[cryptome] Art of Deception 2: The weel laid plans o' mice and men...gang aft agley

  • From: doug <douglasrankine2001@xxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: cryptome@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Sat, 17 Jan 2015 13:35:06 +0000

see url: http://cryptome.org/2015/01/sterling-cia-exhibits.pdf

for full documentation on CIA being deceived by Iran.

As you can see my Langauge is changing...this is due to a genetic disturbance induced by the Anniversary of the Death of Robert Burns and the thocht of all that whisky and haggis which I will be eating over the next week or two at all those Burns Suppers I will attend. The celebration of this great event happens on Sunday 25th of January.

I dedicate this posting to the CIA and all the other world security and intelligence services...Lang may yer lums reek.

To a Mouse

/On Turning Her Up in Her Nest with the Plough,
November, 1785/

Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous/beastie/,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty not,
          Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
         Wi' murdering/pattle/!

I'm truly sorry Man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion
         Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may/thieve/;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A/daimen-icker/ in a/thrave/ 'S a sma' requet;
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
         An' never miss't!

Thy wee-bit/housie/, too, in ruin!
Its silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
         O' foggage green!
An' bleak/December's win's/  ensuing,
         Baith snell an' keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary/Winter/  comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
         Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel/coulter/  past
         Out thro' thy cell.

That wee bit heap o' leaves and stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turned out, for a' thy trouble,
         But house or hald,
To thole the Winter's/sleety dribble/,
         An'/cranreuch/  cauld!

But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving/foresight/  may be in vain:
The best-laid schemes o'/Mice/ an'/Men/ Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
         For promis'd joy!

Still thou are blest, compared wi' me!
The/present/  only toucheth thee:
But Och! I/backward/  cast my e'e,
         On prospects drear!
An'/forward/, tho' I cannot/see/,
         I/guess/  an'/fear/!

Robert Burns


Other related posts:

  • » [cryptome] Art of Deception 2: The weel laid plans o' mice and men...gang aft agley - doug