Critics may be unanimous that no verse which appears on this list has more than an ounce of good sense in it, and that all of it is certifiably green in the meaning department, but if we stipulate this, where does that leave the poor sod who gets attacked for mentioning that he puts ice in his whisky? I mean he's sitting there quietly on the group W bench, just sitting there with Arlo and a rather large lobster, churning his words, and suddenly, just because he's mentioned frozen water, hordes of pork roasters come at him with ice picks. How much justice is there in that, I ask you? About as much as you'd get from a blind barman in a New England nunnery. Maybe less. Bloody minded is what I call it, just plain straightforward bloody minded, like a Yorkshire pig with a hankering for truffles, setting off for France, and finding after the Strindberg roundabout--avoid that one on any bank holiday weekend is my bit of free advice-- and turning left at Helium (if you see signs for Misery, you've gone too far), carrying on past McGonagall's Auction (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/scotland/ tayside_and_central/7402920.stm.) that he's actually got no idea where France is. That's not how we go about life down at the Salt Lake Masonic. Show me money and I'll show you people with a lot more sense than pigs, people who know their ice cubes from their branches, people who can tell you there's not an ounce of difference between cold water out of a stream and frozen water from the freezer. Water is water and work is work and that's all I can compress into a postcard-sized rant, so that's all there is to it.
David Ritchie taking it home in Portland, Oregon ------------------------------------------------------------------ To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html
