100 Comments – oh well done, chaps
Posted on December 20th, 2009 by James Higham
Well done to these three gentlemen, none with a website to link to from here but with plenty of thoughts on various matters. Gents, you may do as you will with the above badge of distinction.
Dearieme
For him – this fowl musical piece:
Xxxl
For him, this Kitchener poster:
MTG
For him, this piccy [I couldn't bring myself to include a song]:
Filed under: Blogging
Gosh, a hairy angel worth millions for Christmas.
You shouldn’t have, James.
I have 3 messages to that entity at No 10
Message 1)
They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.
Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude.
“Spirit! are they yours?” Scrooge could say no more.
“They are Man’s,” said the Spirit, looking down upon them. “And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers.”
“This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!” cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the City. “Slander those who tell it ye! Admit it for your false purposes, and make it worse! And await the end!”
“Have they no refuge or resource?” cried Scrooge.
“Are there no prisons?” said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. “Are there no workhouses?”
The bell struck twelve.
Scrooge looked about him for the Ghost, and saw it not. As the last stroke ceased to vibrate, he remembered the prediction of old Jacob Marley, and lifting up his eyes, beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist along the ground, towards him.
Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
Message No 2)
“Earth provides enough to satisfy every man’s need, but not every man’s greed.” Mohandas K. Ghandi
Message No 3)
Begone from this land for ever, you filthy parasite. xxxl.