Asymmetrical Information

I always prefered Misalliance (sp?) myself.

I offer in evidence for the prosecution, verse 6 of the National Anthem:

Lord grant that Marshal Wade
May by thy mighty aid
Victory bring.
May he sedition hush,
And like a torrent rush,
Rebellious Scots to crush.
God save the King!

Nuff said

Well, that was a lovely show. Now for grim reality: the description of Ireland was a little off, the Irish economy has been pacing ahead of the British for how long? And which one is closer to the vaunted goal of a free market, the one in Dublin or "New Labour" in London?

Maybe it sounds better in Gaelic...

Well, that was bracing. Thank you.

I know the poem was presented in good jest...and I love Flanders and Swann (I Called the Glazier In is a great and funny song)...

But as a golfer who has made two pilgrimages to the cradle of the game, I must stick up for the canny Scots. Never have I felt so welcomed as by the Scots. They were just glad as could be to see me and my fellow American visitors. I did not get the same reception, however, from the English and Irish.

Now this brings back some memories. I know my mother has both "At the Drop of a Hat" and "At the Drop of Another Hat" stashed somewhere. Now I'll have to visit her just so I can dig these out and listen to them. Hey, did she put you up to this???

A very fine poem three days before St. Patrick's Day.

A toast to all that is good and just:

Slan agus seaghal agat;
Bean ar do mhein agat;
Talamh gon chios agat;
Agus bas in Eirinn.

Misalliance has the best wordplay of all -

Said the right-handed Honeysuckle to the left handed Bindweed
'oh let us get married if our parents don't mind we'd
be loving and inseparable, inextricably entwined we'd
live happily ever after' said the Honeysuckle to the Bindweed.

To the Honeysuckle's parents it came as a shock,
the Bindweeds, they cried, 'are inferior stock,
They're uncultivated, of breeding bereft
We twine to the right and they twine to the left'.

Said the anticlockwise Bindweed to the clockwise Honeysuckle;
'We'd better start saving
Many a mickle mac's a muckle
Then run away on a honeymoon and hope that out luck'll
take a turn for the better', said the Bindweed to the Honeysuckle

Although I'm partial to Madeira M'Dear:

She was young, she was pure, she was new, she was nice, She was fair, she was sweet seventeen. He was old, he was vile, and no stranger to vice, He was base, he was bad, he was mean. He had slyly inveigled her up to his flat To view his collection of stamps And he said as he hastened to put out the cat, the wine, his cigar and the lamps: 'Have some madeira, M'dear You really have nothing to fear I'm not trying to tempt you, that wouldn't be right You shouldn't drink spirits at this time of night Have some madeira, M'dear It's very much nicer than beer I don't care for sherry, one cannot drink stout and port is a wine I can well do without It's simply a case of Chacun à son gout Have some madeira, M'dear!'

Unaware of the wiles of the snake in the grass
The fate of the maiden who topes
She lowered her standards by raising her glass
Her courage, her eyes and his hopes
She sipped it, she drank it, she drained it, she did
He quietly refilled it again
And he said, as he secretly carved one more notch
on the butt of his gold-handled cane;

'Have some Madeira, M'dear
I've got a small cask of it here.
And once it's been opened, you know it won't keep
Do finish it off, it'll hlp you to sleep
Have some Madeira, M'dear
It's really an excellent year
Now if it were Gin you'd be wrong to say yes
The evil gin does would be hard to assess
Besides, it's inclined to affect me prowess
Have some Madeira, M'dear!'

Then it flashed through her mind what her mother has said
with her antepenultimate breath;
'Oh, My child, is you look on the wine that is red
then prepare for a fate worse than death!'
She let go the glass with a shrill little cry
Crash! Tinkle! It fell to the floor
When he asked 'What in heaven?' she made no reply,
Up her mind, and a dash for the door.
'Have some Madeira, M'dear'
Rang out down the hall, loud and clear
A tremulous cry that was filled with despair
As she paused to take breath in the cool midnight air,
'Have some Madeira, M'dear!'
The words seemed to ring in her ear,
Until the next morning, she woke up in bed
With a smile on her lips and an ache in her head
And a beard in her earhole that tickled and said
'Have some Madeira, M'dear!'

F&S - bless 'em!

"The Complete F&S" is available as a 3-CD set. If there are one or two of you that don't have it, for shame! :)

I recently had some "difficulty" with a contractor and a kitchen renovation. The new wall ovens were not installed for my height or to to my specification. As the contractor was spinning his tale of woe I said loudly:

"I'm delirious about our new oven fitted with the eye-level grill. This means that without my having to bend down the hot fat can squirt straight into my eye."

Deer-in-the-headlight stare for a good 30 seconds as he processed the information. Had I not laughed he might be still standing in the kitchen.

Well done. You might have said:

'Twas on a Monday morning the Gas man came to call The gas tap wouldn't turn, I wasn't getting gas at all He tore out all the skirting board to try to find the main And I had to call a carpenter to put it back again Oh, it all makes work for the working man to do

'Twas on a Tuesday morning the carpenter came round
He hammered and he chiseled and he said: 'Look what I've found
Your joists are full of dry rot but I'll put it all to rights'
Then nailed right through a cable and out want all the lights
Oh, it all makes work for the working man to do

'Twas on a Wednesday morning the electrician came
He called me 'Mr. Sanderson', which isn't quite my name
He couldn't reach the fuse box without standing on the bin
And his foot went through a window so I called a glazier in
Oh, it all makes work for the working man to do

'Twas on a Thursday morning the glazier came along
With his blow-torch and his putty and his merry Glazier's song
He put another pane in, it took no time at all
But I had to get a painter in to come and paint the wall
Oh, it all makes work for the working man to do

'Twas on a Friday morning the painter made a start
With undercoats and overcoats he painted every part
Every nook and every cranny but I found when he was gone
He'd painted over the gas tap and I couldn't turn it on
Oh, it all makes work for the working man to do

On Saturday and Sunday they do no work at all,
So 'Twas on a Monday morning the Gas man came to call!

The recent drive to change the name of "french fries" made me think of a comment one of them made at a New York run of At the Drop of Another Hat, "One of the nice things about coming here is that we can get food that isn't available at home, like English muffifs."

You might be interested to know that Michael Flanders daughter, Stephanie, was a senior advisor to Larry Summers at the Treausry. Heh heh. This song is satirical by the way.

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