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Great Auks From Little Acorns…

July 1, 2009

cornell.bacall
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As regular readers know, I often post a list of the latest peculiar (or downright bizarre) search terms that have brought people to this blog. I posted the latest today, inspiring our friend Captain Ned to suggest that we each write a poem based on one of the phrases. I like this idea very much. So here’s the list again:

banana bank robbery banana

having sex and sticking your penis in the

mickey hitler

sheep pie

how to pickpocket youtube

“horsefeathers swathed in mink

little girls pregnant in brazil

sheep with helicopter

nervous system of a sheep

i have offended god and mankind because

senile boss stuffed animals

tickle feet little girl

we’ll be friends senile

a cartoon little girl with a heart

forest path cartoon+ sheep

waffles bjork

three rich little girls from last century

english comic kebab hats in taxi

what formal hair style disguise a droopy

militant sheep illustrations

“looks like we’re in a tight spot” movie

out in the night… glaring eyes in dark

obama pickpocket president

the who mods

j t edson fascist

i had an almost apocalyptic vision that

muscular system of sheep

sheep autumn web template

waiting for something feels like eternity

angel in the rain

freep’s fashion

naked boys in arab films

chariots of the gods by erich von heineken

face masks transvestites u yube

dear sky shameless hussy press

“interstellar overdrive” jazz guitar wes

feeding in and tailing out timber required

picture of marilyn monroe eating a hot dog

exploded sheep

girl rubs boy cartoon

“marilyn monroe” drunk

alas, regardless of their doom the little girl

leni riefenstahl pretty swastika

wild west for little girls

marilyn monroe’s corpse

rothbury 2009 t-shirt

cool ford escape mods

mean little girls

william tell overture mum’s lament utube

…pick a phrase that appeals to you and write a poem around it.

32 Comments
  1. Meltonian permalink
    July 1, 2009 11:37 PM

    Having sex and sticking your penis in the
    well-filled ashtray of your local’s smoking spot
    is a basic technique of Opus Dei,

    especially if the ashes are still hot.
    The idea is to create an aversion
    to sex, and, hopefully, a cancerous rot

    which should lead to the wholesale amputation
    of this truly noisome and disgusting thing
    whose singular purpose is reproduction,

    yet is often seen vigorously thrusting,
    totally jacketed in a latex sleeve,
    accomplishing the animal slithering

    whose filthy lubriciousness makes God grieve.
    Sister Ruth Kelly has graciously agreed
    to collect the ashes the local’s patrons leave,

    and distribute them on the basis of need
    according to best practice in business.
    Please, gentlemen, when you have squandered your seed,

    press your quivering, still-tumescent penis
    hard into this stinking, smouldering ashtray,
    and say after me, In nomine patris…

  2. July 1, 2009 11:57 PM

    You’re a strange one, Melton. You are.

  3. July 2, 2009 8:32 AM

    A cartoon little girl
    With a frail paper heart,
    Caught out in the night,
    Glaring eyes in the dark.
    Bright angel in the rain
    Slowly soaking away.

    (sorry I used loads up there)

  4. mishari permalink*
    July 2, 2009 9:20 AM

    No, no, Polly…that’s fine. I should have said that one could use as many lines as desired or, indeed, make a poem solely out of the search terms, as you did and very well, too.

    Jesus…I worry about that Mowbray, sometimes. I foresee a time when what the Americans call ‘intervention’ will be called for:

  5. Meltonian permalink
    July 2, 2009 12:01 PM

    It’s still engraved on my mind, the picture
    of Marilyn Monroe eating a hot dog.
    Not cooked at a high enough temperature,
    its tail twitched violently, and the leg

    she couldn’t get into her capacious gob
    hung scrabbling on her well-appointed chest.
    The little girl who owned it began to sob,
    her leering papa said it was for the best.

    She was a gorgeous woman, but her taste
    for eating family pets was out of control,
    dogs, cats, hamsters, mice, nothing went to waste,
    but she went too far with the Kennedys’ vole.

    She once said, some like them hot, but it’s more fun
    when they struggle a bit and are underdone.

  6. July 2, 2009 1:29 PM

    Ha ha – you’re not doing anything to make yourself seem less strange. Entertaining though!

  7. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    July 2, 2009 1:32 PM

    Three rich little girls from last century:

  8. parallax permalink
    July 2, 2009 3:13 PM

    Fuck guys, hang fire, I’m in catch up mode:

    Meltonian Says:
    June 29, 2009 at 11:58 PM | Reply

    Some beautiful pictures, BTP, but those floaters are too ego-free for my taste. I like the idea of the species shift, however. My choice would fall on the elephant, I think, no predators, a nomadic lifestyle, a community of equals but with the chance of solitude if required, mud-baths, nine-foot penis etc.

    yeah right Melt … cue neanderthal nasal response: “wend I get excited (like), I knock mnself owt – wiv me dik”

    Here you go Melt, a song lamenting the demise of your dick: lost forever in repose … retired .. imagined .. floating like a nine-foot line of spaghetti before you:

  9. July 2, 2009 3:17 PM

    Hey – how are you Para?

  10. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    July 2, 2009 3:22 PM

    While we’re on the subject of Braggadocchio and his wooden nose, how’s the forest-felling coming along for the Guardian poster poems book, Billy? I’ve not seen it announced in Forthcoming Releases…

  11. parallax permalink
    July 2, 2009 3:30 PM

    Hey – Polly – good thanks. I’m behind the eight ball, and you?

  12. July 2, 2009 3:59 PM

    Erm is that a good or a bad place to be? You seemed to have been absent for some time and I was thinking about when you might turn up again and there you are!

    I’m ok, a little warm and cranky, but that’s to be expected from Yorkshire folk in a heatwave. Suppose you’re approaching the depths of winter, well as deep as it ever gets anyway!

    Actually I’m a little annoyed about the fact that I’ve just found a blogpost on the Guardian which has the comments closed off. It was only posted today. What’s the point of that? It’s the Media Monkey (?) I think he was just fearing the response he was going to get to the suggestion that the BBC should have a porn channel. I’m all for free expression and generally I’m in favour of these things being in legitimate settings so as to hope to offer some protection to the actors involved but I consider it my right to refuse to pay my licence fee if my money was in any danger of funding such things. Of course I think it was a joke (or I’m hoping so anyway)…

    Can’t say I’m splitting my sides over it.

  13. parallax permalink
    July 2, 2009 4:30 PM

    Ah Polly (can’t comment on the BBC – they don’t microwave it this far – I think we’re being fed Ramsey and Clarkson with an Attenborough voice-over -David informs us that they’re an anthropological find from a different species/culture).

    Behind the eight ball means fucked, but shit that’s life and it’s just game.

    The weather – give me a break – a week ago I was watching flesh burn in the Northern Hemisphere at 20 degrees and now I’m home shivering in front of heater at chilly winter 19 degrees. What can I say? Your heat is unexpectedly warm and I got fucking burnt on Wimbledon Common – how does that work? I blame Obama and his seismic imbalance in world culture – it’s voodoo that the black kid/white adult MJ hyperventilated him/her self to death

  14. July 2, 2009 4:58 PM

    So you had a good holiday then? Just imagine how hot the Wombles would have got picking up smouldering rubbish and red hot drinks cans etc

    Ah I presumed that being behind the 8 ball meant you were about to win the game, but then I’m used to the version of pool which has yellow balls for one person and red for the other, and even then I get confused and ocasionally welly the black, which I’m told is only required at the end of the game – oh well.

    My homage to MJ is the fact that I’ve had the song “black or white” running round my head for the past week. Wonder why my brain picked that one?

  15. parallax permalink
    July 2, 2009 5:17 PM

    I dunno Polly – do you associate yourself with the names – Linda, Heather, Lisa, Deborah or Paris?

  16. Captain Ned permalink
    July 2, 2009 6:19 PM

    The question we first must answer:
    who are the militant sheep?
    Careful study of available images
    yields nothing of definitive value.

    Information currently scarce
    despite best intelligence-gathering
    operations;
    further research no doubt necessary,
    but relative absence of factual grounding
    need not delay commencement of
    counter-subversive activities.
    Dossiers already prepared
    identifying likely leaders of movement;
    arrests imminent.

    Motives at present unknown,
    but ovine insurrection cannot be ruled out.
    Suggest martial law
    as precautionary measure
    until suitable legislative framework can be
    put in place.
    Some protests likely, but media support
    guaranteed;
    troublemakers to be dealt with
    in the usual way.

    In event of guerilla campaign,
    all overseas regiments to be recalled.
    Investigations into possibility
    of alliance with other farmyard factions
    thus far inconclusive; plans
    for pre-emptive action
    awaiting approval.

    Mint sauce stockpiles have been increased.

  17. Meltonian permalink
    July 2, 2009 6:41 PM

    Nice to see someone is on top of the sheep threat. Look out for a promotion, Captain!

    I hope you didn’t confine your visit to the Other Island, para.

    • parallax permalink
      July 5, 2009 1:43 PM

      Sadly, I never made it to Jersey MM

    • Meltonian permalink
      July 5, 2009 10:47 PM

      You would have been sad if you had made it.

  18. July 2, 2009 9:59 PM

    Captain Ned – Brilliant!

    But how will mint sauce work against gorrillas?

  19. Meltonian permalink
    July 2, 2009 11:17 PM

    I received BM’s book today (Lares/Manes). I shall study it with interest. Having already read his ‘Five Easy Pieces’ (which forms a section of this book) I’m not automatically repelled by the somewhat minimalist ethic and absence of trad effects. It also helps to know that he can pull off a sonnet at the drop of a hat.

    I don’t know why he’s pictured wearing a 12 year-old’s denim jacket.

  20. mishari permalink*
    July 2, 2009 11:31 PM

    All in all, I think I prefer a shrunkenly bedenimed Mills to Mills in a suit and tie…I’ll order my copy of his collection now.

  21. Meltonian permalink
    July 2, 2009 11:35 PM

    Christ. Stop that man’s rations.

  22. Captain Ned permalink
    July 3, 2009 8:31 AM

    As a Welshman, Melton, I am always on top of the sheep threat. In every sense.

    Gorillas, like most things, lie outside of my area of expertise, Pollyanna. I have certainly never threatened a gorilla with mint sauce.

  23. July 3, 2009 8:36 AM

    MM, can I use “I’m not automatically repelled by the somewhat minimalist ethic and absence of trad effects. It also helps to know that he can pull off a sonnet at the drop of a hat.” as a blurb for my next book?

    HLM, the Graun book is being typeset and is now pretty much out of my hands. You should hear from Sarah soon.

  24. Meltonian permalink
    July 3, 2009 1:45 PM

    Be my guest, BM. With my endorsement prominently displayed I think you could expect extra sales (well, one). Anyway, I hope all goes well and we see you on the platform at the Nobels before long.

  25. Meltonian permalink
    July 3, 2009 11:09 PM

    I Have The Nervous System Of A Sheep.
    Once I was something of a sociopath,
    unable to empathise, hug or weep,
    the misfortunes of others made me laugh.

    I had to leave the legal profession,
    and went for guidance to a therapist.
    Hearing my dysfunctional confession
    she fast-tracked me to the surgical list.

    Now I have an ovine nervous system,
    and I am ready to rejoin the fold,
    to twitch and huddle with the best of them
    and give up fleece and fillets to be sold.
    For many years rotten, tough, a bully,
    born again as mutton, tup, and woolly.

  26. mishari permalink*
    July 3, 2009 11:35 PM

    I’ve been listening to Levon Helm’s new album over and over again for the last couple of days. It’s wonderful and a must for anyone who loves The Band. Here are some reviews. The LP can be downloaded here.

    You want an ideal marriage? Try the Grateful Dead’s “Tennessee Jed’’ in the hands of Levon Helm. Great idea, greater execution. Happily, there are more perfect fits on this ear-opening new disc from the longtime drummer of the Band. Helm survived throat cancer to release “Dirt Farmer’’ two years ago; it was filled with rural tunes from his youth and earned a Grammy for best traditional folk recording. But this follow-up has a more lively batch of songs recalling the Helm we know and love from his rocking days.

    It is aptly named “Electric Dirt,’’ and the songs range from sharply etched blues-rock (two Muddy Waters tunes) to contemporary folk, gospel, and a New Orleans-flavored take on “Tennessee Jed.’’ Once again, former Dylan guitarist Larry Campbell serves as producer, and he opens up the throttle to a bolder sound. Helm continues to grow stronger, while his daughter Amy (of the group Ollabelle) adds sweeping harmonies. Helm does some co-writing, but it’s the covers that shine, such as a stomping version of Waters’s “Stuff You Gotta Watch’’ (about a woman who “steals your dope’’ and drinks your gin) and the heartfelt gospel of the Staples Singers’ “Move Along Train.’’ Helm blends the secular and gospel worlds with an almost seamless precision. Fans of the Band will love this–The Boston Globe

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    If there’s one thing a good drummer knows it’s the power of a groove, and Helm, one of rock’s greatest with the sticks, has them in spades on “Electric Dirt,” his second album since recovering from throat cancer.

    Helm’s upped the rock energy quotient here, taking him even closer to that timeless Americana sound he and his mates in the Band helped create four decades ago. The sources of that sound are evident in the earthy blues of Muddy Waters’ “You Can’t Lose What You Ain’t Never Had,” the deep gospel of Pops Staples’ “Move Along Train” and Happy Traum’s ethereal Celtic-cum-Appalachian ballad “Golden Bird.”

    The different strains of American roots music meld seamlessly in “Growing Trade,” written by Helm and album producer Larry Campbell, and on his version of the Grateful Dead’s “Tennessee Jed.” Both songs sound like worthy companion pieces to the timeless roots rock of the Band’s “Music From Big Pink” and the group’s collaboration with Bob Dylan in “The Basement Tapes.”

    New Orleans great Allen Toussaint lends his unmistakable touch with colorful horn arrangements on Randy Newman’s “Kingfish” and Richard Carroll Lamp and Willy E. Taylor’s effusive “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to be Free.”

    Helm’s voice has lost almost all traces of the cancer-treatment damage that was periodically evident on 2007’s “Dirt Farmer,” returning to what approaches the full glory of its prime. He sings of the land and of people who struggle to hold on to some small piece of it. It’s especially powerful considering the ways in which he’s transcended significant struggles of his own.–The L.A. Times

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    When the Band disbanded, its members went on to solo careers of limited distinction. Robbie Robertson released a series of increasingly self-conscious albums. Rick Danko and Richard Manuel entered periods of drug trouble and then exited life. Garth Hudson soldiered on as a valued sideman. The post-Band lull was most perplexing for Levon Helm.

    If Helm was not the face of the group—it was at once faceless and multifaceted—he was arguably its voice; his vocals anchored such hits as “The Weight” and “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down.” Helm released a series of quiet solo records in the late seventies and early eighties, dabbled in acting, participated in a brief Band reunion, and battled cancer. His live music career rolled on (his Midnight Rambles in Woodstock are legendary), but he seemed finished as a recording artist.

    Then, in 2007, Helm surprised everyone with “Dirt Farmer,” an album of traditional and contemporary folk compositions that benefitted from being both trendy (many aging rock stars were revisiting the music that first inspired them) and excellent. Helm’s voice was weaker, but his conviction was strong. Now he has a companion record, “Electric Dirt” (Vanguard).

    Made largely with the same crew as its predecessor—including the guitarist and producer Larry Campbell and Helm’s daughter Amy—the set finds Helm both affirming life and anticipating death. Randy Newman’s “Kingfish” is a song the Band should have done, as is the Grateful Dead’s “Tennessee Jed.” Much is raucous, though there are sombre ballads that look directly into the great unknown. The constant throughout is Helm’s subtly spectacular singing. When he was young, he sounded like a wise old man. Now he sounds like an oracle. –The New Yorker

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  27. Zephirine permalink
    July 4, 2009 8:42 PM

    Like many good musicians, Levon Helm’s not a bad actor too, as he showed in ‘Coal Miner’s Daughter’.

    I must have been unconsciously influenced by your sheep theme when I chose the latest caption photo for Other Stuff http://www.pseudstuff.blogspot.com
    .. some sort of morphic blog resonance going on…

  28. July 8, 2009 10:44 PM

    Mickey Hitler what a name
    His brother’s in the fascist game
    He thinks it would be really ace
    To only have a master race

    Luckily I was out of the loop for the Jackson funeral but en route to Portugal I did catch a Spanish TV show with at least 25 MJ look-alikes onstage at the same time doing a “celebration” of his music. Several were extremely podgy which can’t be right

  29. Meltonian permalink
    July 9, 2009 12:00 AM

    Michael belongs to all of us now, Al. Good trip?

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