VEXED TO NIGHTMARE BY A RAGING THREAD.

Abi Sutherland at Making Light posts The soft and unmistakable sound of a gauntlet landing on the dusty ground, reproducing a series of comments by her and Chris Clarke at a Google+ thread started by the latter. She jokily accuses him of being an oldster and says “May I serve you a peach, sir? I do like the way you’re wearing those white flannel trousers; rolling them definitely suits you”; he responds:

this is just to say
I have fenced
the lawn
that was in my yard
and which you were probably hoping to be on.

And they’re off. Abi’s “Father Williams” and Chris’ “13 Ways” are particular highlights, but it’s all loads of fun (if poetry parodies are your idea of fun); my post title comes from Abi’s “Raging and raging in the lengthening thread/ The mood will not heed the moderator,” and I laughed loudest at Chris’s

My friend, you would not Greek without regret
For clients entre whom you would preneur,
The old Lie; Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet
Consectetur.

Enjoy. Or don’t; it’s a free internet.

Comments

  1. Electric Dragon says:

    Nobody read him, the commenter,
    But still he typed, hoping:
    I was much less linked than you thought
    Not posting but trolling.
    Poor chap, he always loved snarking
    And now he’s fled
    He must have been too busy his job took over
    They said
    Oh, no, no, no it was too social now
    (the old one said moaning)
    I was never friended in all my life
    Not blogging nor tweeting.

  2. Leonardo Boiko says:

    an old post:
    a spambot jumps in
    email sounds

  3. Thanks for the link and the good words, languagehat. Sparring with Abi was great fun, despite – no, actually because of – the fact that I was hopelessly outclassed.

  4. Language Hat, this is learned stuff:
    Patent I haven’t read enough;
    They’re making reference, ’tis clear,
    But beyond that I can’t get near.
    But oh, good Lord, the verse they make,
    I must confess strikes me opaque.

  5. I would though retweet Mr. Clarke’s “Dulce et Decorum Est” to the very highest heaven, if it were a tweet. Masterful.

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