When I see a snake, I go overboard like Peter … when he went overboard.

dr. g. wilson, natural history lecture, march 24 2010

You have seen hail, sometimes, leveling the grass. Indians were so leveled by the bullet hail. . . . Children crying with cold. No fire. There could be no light. Everywhere was crying, the death wail.

yellow wolf, a chief of the nez perce

‘Verily Thou art a God that hidest Thyself.’ -Isaiah xlv. 15

God, though to Thee our psalm we raise


No answering voice comes from the skies;


To Thee the trembling sinner prays

But no forgiving voice replies;

Our prayer seems lost in desert ways,

Our hymn in the vast silence dies.

We see the glories of the earth

But not the hand that wrought them all:

Night to a myriad worlds gives birth,

Yet like a lighted empty hall

Where stands no host at door or hearth

Vacant creation’s lamps appal.

We guess; we clothe Thee, unseen King,

With attributes we deem are meet;

Each in in his own imagining


Sets up a shadow in Thy seat;

Yet know not how our gifts to bring,


Where seek Thee with unsandalled feet.

And still th’unbroken silence broods

While ages and while aeons run,

As erst upon chaotic floods

The Spirit hovered ere the sun

Had called the seasons’ changeful moods

And life’s first germs from death had won.

And still th’abysses infinite

Surround the peak from which we gaze.


Deep calls to deep, and blackest night


Giddies the soul with blinding daze

That dares to cast its searching sight


On being’s dread and vacant maze.

And Thou art silent, whilst Thy world

Contends about its many creeds

And hosts confront with flags unfurled

And zeal is flushed and pity bleeds


And truth is heard, with tears impearled,


A moaning voice among the reeds.

My hand upon my lips I lay;


The breast’s desponding sob I quell;


I move along life’s tomb-decked way

And listen to the passing bell

Summoning men from speechless day

To death’s more silent, darker spell.

Oh! till Thou givest that sense beyond,

To shew Thee that Thou art, and near,

Let patience with her chastening wand

And lead me child-like by the hand


If still in darkness not in fear,

Dispel the doubt and dry the tear.

Speak! whisper to my watching heart


One word-as when a mother speaks

Soft, when she sees her infant start,

Till dimpled joy steals o’er its cheeks.

Then, to behold Thee as Thou art,


I’ll wait till morn eternal breaks.

nondum, by gerard manley hopkins.

this may be my best, maybe my only answer to this.

Well folks, you say "potato," I say "you go straight to hell!" This is tip of the hat/wag of the finger!

steven colbert

colbert report, april 7 2010

Levon wears his war wound like a crown

He calls his child Jesus

`Cause he likes the name

And he sends him to the finest school in town

Levon, Levon likes his money

He makes a lot they say

Spends his days counting

In a garage by the motorway

He was born a pauper to a pawn on a Christmas day

When the New York Times said God is dead

And the war's begun

Alvin Tostig has a son today

And he shall be Levon

And he shall be a good man

And he shall be Levon

In tradition with the family plan

And he shall be Levon

And he shall be a good man

He shall be Levon

Levon sells cartoon balloons in town

His family business thrives

Jesus blows up balloons all day

Sits on the porch swing watching them fly

And Jesus, he wants to go to Venus

Leaving Levon far behind

Take a balloon and go sailing

While Levon, Levon slowly dies

He was born a pauper to a pawn on a Christmas day

When the New York Times said God is dead

And the war's begun

Alvin Tostig has a son today

And he shall be Levon

And he shall be a good man

And he shall be Levon

In tradition with the family plan

And he shall be Levon

And he shall be a good man

He shall be Levon

levon, by elton john, lyrics by bernie taupin.

this duo is responsible for the best lyrical poetry in popular music in the last 50 years, with possible exceptions including (but not limited to) paul simon.