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Archive for September, 2013

A Blasphemy Day Ditty

You'd think a hard-boiled baby-eating atheist like myself would have no trouble coming up with a post in honour of International Blasphemy Day, wouldn't you. Not so, Gentle Reader, not so…

It's the Day Of Blasphemy and so
I sat down here, tried to compose
A little rhyming ditty
'bout how all gods are shitty,
But the words would not appear—
My thoughts kept drifting far and near.
The faces in the patterns on the wall
Stared back at me—refused to help at all.
The hammers of the workmen 'cross the street
Played rhythms I augmented with my feet
As I hummed a little tune
And I stared around the room
And saw the mirror needs a wipe
And the clock needs setting right
And the stack of books beside my bed
Really should be shelved instead.

Hmm…

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Save “The Sky At Night”

Auntie Beeb is thinking of axing The Sky At Night! When I say that this show is an institution, I really mean it. It is, if I remember rightly from my trivia-quizzing days, the longest-running television show in the world. You could probably make a pretty good documentary about the history of cosmology over the last half-century or so, just using old clips from it.

Anyway, if you're in the UK, please, for the love of all that's holy or awesome or whatever adjective you prefer, sign this petition.
Daz


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Gadzooks! It's Friday, ain't it. I'm absolutely cream-crackered, so this week's Friday Night Is Music Night has been thrown together in a bit of a rush. The theme is directions. Up, down, east, west, back'ards, for'ards and side to side. Toward the country beyond the moon's rising, or at the back of beyond.

As ever, feel free to leave your own additions in comments. And now I, Gentle Reader, am off to bed.
Daz

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A Letter To The Editor

Uncle Joe woke up today and cast a bleary eye
Upon the awful, godless world, and gave a little sigh;
And, feeling rather grumpy, took up a pen to scribe
A letter to the editor. Twas published, by and by.
"I didn't do it gov'nor. It wasn't me!" he lied,
"And by the way that Dawkins bloke can only write sci-fi!"

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Behold, our glorious leader…

Here's the relevant part…

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I don't recommend insomnia as a life-choice but, lying there trying to work out why the bloody sheep keep jumping the fence, and why the farmer doesn't buy a friggin' electronic counter instead of employing insomniacs…

Erm, what was I saying? Oh yes. Lying there, the occasional line or two of doggerel (sheep-doggerel, maybe?) does pop into my head. Hence this:

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Arguments From Motorcycle Helmets

When did you last see this headline…?

"Remove your helmet or I won't serve you," biker is told.

That's right. You never have seen it, yet it happens every day. Even, or maybe especially, at petrol stations. And nobody thinks it discriminatory or unnecessary—not even bikers, though we may grumble under our breath in winter, as we carefully reassemble several layers of cold-weather protection.

Now imagine this headline:

"Remove your burka or I won't serve you," Muslim woman is told.

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