Sonnet CX

Alas! 'tis true: I have lick’d Urina blue,
And played with Leopard’s dock so huge and gay,
Flushed classic AHIGs through a stripèd loo,
Pick’d my nose while beachballs spun all day;

Most true it is, that I have looked on Nine
Askance and strangely; but, by Mars and Thor,
Now shall Apple Inc. and marketeers malign
No longer Thalonet’s crusade ignore.

Join Sir MacLash--Men of X, this is the end
Of insulting sausages and senseless crap
Which driveth countless pros around the bend,
And maketh even Vulcans weep and flap.

Then give him welcome, all ye shall be released
When Sir MacLash slays Steve’s bloated beast.

(Shakespeare)

That should be stamped on every shrink-wrapped box of Leotard.

Once Upon a Time in Cupertino

Vain henchmen of ‘Nix in their Genius Bar
Are raping a sheep with a crystal cigar.
NeXTmen salute smiling Stevie, and fart
Whilst ripping out Mac OS 9’s beating heart.

Crib toys and trinkets and beachballs to boot.
Grandpapa Unix limps under the hood.
Apologists, swooning, applaud Open Sores.
Big Steve's ideal customer walks on all fours.

Where are the AHIGs, the AHIGs of yore?
Wat ever happened to less being more?
While pros sink away in Ten’s bug-ridden shit,
X-Men lie sucking Aunt Aqua’s lame tit.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: yabor,

Where are the AHIGs, the AHIGs of yore?
Wat ever happened to less being more?

I've seen them. They exist. I left them someplace.
They're in the wings of mosquitos, where there's very little waste.
Their point is to fly, to soar and reach outer space
But Aqua, oy veh, it's meant only to gin up the taste

For things that are flashy, shiny, and smoothy
There are those who think all that blur is just groovy
But me, and not just you, have a taste more refined
Let me read. Let me click. Let me scroll on a dime.

Let me read. Let me click. Let me scroll on a dime.
Remember the Mac when it was in its prime?
The OS X era: now “Mac” and “crap” rhyme.
Let me read. Let me click. Let me scroll on a dime.

But I want bobbles, though they hobble, my Mac OS
Give me gimmicks, if it mimics, this state-of-the-mess
You see, I have a greed, for colors and bounces
I ne're grew up (near threw up), I'm still a child by the ounces

I wish for every neuron to get max entertainment
Why can't a 3-ring circus be on this engagement?
Gimme gimme gimme, let the colors come through
It's aesexual excitement for those who don't screw

I tried self-hypnosis and yoga and Zen
In a vain effort to stop hating X;
I’m losing it--help me, Bradford, my son!
No Mac is an iSland to quote Johnny Donne.

I’m losing it--help me, Bradford, my son!
No Mac is an iSland to quote Johnny Donne.

You mentioned trying Zen
that is surely the right path
Fewer bobbles and shadows
You do the math

We are the human creature
Evolved for frivolities
But what if one is more evolved
And from goofiness derives no jollities?

To please the crowd is easy
Give them what makes them foam
Appeal to their lightest streaks
Take them 'round the block, not home

But even Zen has been corrupted
By thoughtless silly men
Wearing robes and spouting libby thoughts
They rise as high as hens

What's the answer, you may ask
Can it be packaged in OS's or religion?
No, I say it's something more
Something nobler, at least a smidgen'

And that's the poetry of a life
Some lose themselves in the crowd
And if that's how to find oneself
Then I'll take something far less loud

I don't know the big answers
I have mostly small questions
But, Christ, turn off the goofiness
Stop the bobbletude ingestion

Applus Incraporatus

Aqua incontinenta leopardum vice versa et caprioli
digicidi laternas traficum machinae nextae;
ac neque scam stabilis bigus doccus aut transparanti
menusi ac focus grupus resultant ruinis.
Lucida fontus sola: fucit Stevum imminente baldum
finderae labeli Orspisus Bloatiae indecentes.
macilashi californiam terram vincit, Cupertinorum
panicum Thalonus liberator visit officinas.
Nunc solutiae adobum fotosiopum caput; impedit pro
laborare, damnus sistema operationis succit;
nunc et Barbi cribus toius sori oculi rolanti causam,
menopausa Aquae constanta, status pro ridiculus.
Beta inacceptabilis pulsat templum pauperi suicidas:
dysfunctionalia finitas exit? O beate Ahigi,
vitae summa macintosi splendidi disfrutare bonam;
Te baccum stabet Iobsus; Platinumque Hades
et lesmorus exiliis Plutonia: quo simul leonis,
genus canon legaci sortiere ret sox virgines.

(Horace)

EUROPIA THE BEAUTIFUL

O beautiful for bureaucrats,
For self-appointed czars,
For we-know-best aristocrats,
For faceless kommissars!

Europia! Europia!
God shed His plagues on thee,
May Allah’s boot thy butt salute,
May thy groin feel His knee.

O beautiful for thine elite
Whose stern impassion'd stress
A thoroughfare for serfdom beat
From Napels to Loch Ness.

Europia! Europia!
God sock thee in the jaw,
Confirm thy soul in thought-control,
Thy cowardice in law.

O beautiful for tyrants prov'd
In suffocating strife,
Who more than self the Saudis loved,
And Islam more than life.

Europia! Europia!
God can’t locate thy spine,
Thou art a mess of jellyness
(Like OS X not 9).

O beautiful for servant dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster gallows gleam
Adorned with Jews and queers.

Europia! Europia!
God shed His plagues on thee,
May Allah’s boot thine ass salute
May thy groin feel His knee.

(Katherine Lee Bates)

This message has been edited. Last edited by: yabor,

Get Well Soon

The mighty Leopard wakens:
Apps screw up and freeze,
My prefs are bolloxed good, and all
My fonts changed to CHINESE.

I blame myself, of course:
This almost surreal mess
Shirley ain’t the fault of Earth’s
Most advanced OS.

Poor Leopard must be tired:
I work him much to hard;
My customers can wait, I’ll go
And buy a get-well card.

Speaking of silly, somebody sent me this the other day:

Re: Europia the Beautiful

I think that's a forceful and healthily angry response at a lot of the insane garbage going on in European politics and social policy. Many of the notions of the far left spread like a virus, particularly because their premises go unchallenged. Well, I challenge those premises. I think Western Civilization, while not perfect, is a damn site better than Sharia law, for instance. This modern inclination towards destroying and undermining one's own hard-fought values and ideals is not healthy.

Leftism/Marxism is like a virus that has infected our moral notions about what is fair play, about what is justice, and about what are things worth defending and what are things worth tearing down. There is a preponderance of emphasis on what is wrong, and rarely on what is right. It's a noxious brand of nit-picking and fault-finding which has as its goal the perfection of the human being. Well, we can't even get a perfect operating system. It's unlikely we'll ever perfect humans. Leftism/Marxism gains the incredible power that it has because it sounds as if its goals are worthy. After all, aren't they about equal rights, racial equality, and "social justice"? What could possibly be wrong with those things?

Well, nothing, at least in principle. But it all depends on what one actually means by each and every one of those terms. The left has a definite affinity for subterfuge and Orwellian language. Sometimes they'll tell you exactly what they're all about such as when Hussein says that the American military is a bully in the world. Other times you have to not take their words at face value and actually look at their actions and the results of their actions. A nightmare of millions of deaths was hidden behind the "equality" words of Communist Russia.

To expose the mean underbelly of the left is simply to focus the light of reason on them and not to let them to perversely define morality according to their often squeaky-clean Orwellian words. We fight a lot around here at thalo.net about playing words games. But this is so only because word games have such incredible power to influence and deceive. Take a brave and bold look at what leftists and Marxists actually believe. And it does take a bit of bravery, because they will dump heaps of invectives upon those who question their righteousness. Much like Islam, the intimidation of their bluff and bluster works. It tends to beat people down and back. But this kind of totalitarianism and bullying can and should be faced up to. And you did so with your fine poem.

iMAGINE

iMagine there's no Aqua,
No trashcan in the dock,
No sausage scrollbars,
A Finder made by Spock;
iMagine apps and OS
Working properly ...

iMagine opaque menus
It isn't hard to do,
Customization options,
Geneva Niner too;
iMagine all the NeXTMen
Fucking off to Greece ...

You may say that I talk bollocks:
“Apple, Inc. is a soft pear”
But I’ll bet nine Jackson Pollocks
That the MacLash will come down on Stevie’s flabby Kittens like a starving polar bear.

iMagine no “permissions”,
I wonder if you can,
No need to tear your hair out,
Bill Gates an also-ran;
iMagine girly labels
Changed to classic ones ...

You may say that I talk bollocks:
“Apple, Inc. is a soft pear”
But I’ll bet nine Jackson Pollocks
That the MacLash will come down on Stevie’s flabby Kittens like a starving polar bear.

(John Lennon)

Don't make me have to edit that post to (John Lemmon). Come on, brother Yabor. I think you're slippin'.

quote:

iMagine there's no Aqua,
No trashcan in the dock,
No sausage scrollbars,
A Finder made by Spock;

Love that. Very nice poem.

Enterprise

I am a sausage maker,
Aunt Crapqua is my name;
My RAM is overpriced
And iLife is my game.

My husband’s name is Unix,
And Steve is our best friend;
The three of us fleece sheep--
Of fun we have no end.

Steve runs a chic boutique
Where shiny things he sells:
His whistles are the balls,
As are his faux-fur bells.

Unix

As I click on the icon
Of iWoes in my dock,
I think of old pop Unix:
The old fart does still rock!

Although he has arthritis
(Which makes my pro apps stall)
That deaf, dumb, and blind sod
Sure spins a mean beachball.

Betas Are Forever

O! how much more doth Kitty kinky seem
By those wet sausages with which we scroll.
Crapqua looks fair, but fairer we her deem
For that sweet odour which lives in her hole.

Ah! tufted warts have not as full a dye
As the traffic lights in Leotard’s Finder.
And lest we forget that time is zipping by,
Leotard’s beachballs are a great reminder.

Sure, for chimpanzees only is X’s show:
Pros live unwoo'd, and feel black Steven’s hate.
But, so what? Apple says: urinate on snow
And thus with piss your works of art create.

So, here’s to you, beauteous and lovely X,
May we pay for you over and over again.

(Shakespeare)

Leopard, Leopard

Leopard, Leopard, turning right
At that garish traffic light,
When left is where I want to go;
Stupid cat, you ain’t no pro.

From what Chinese paradise
Did Steve ship thy Mighty Mice?
Tell me, why did Mister Spock
Cut his ear off in your dock?

Why do all but babies puke
When they at your labels look?
Why do bangers on all fours
Pay for you in Apple Stores?

Your damned sausages of glass,
Go and stick ‘em up your ass.
If I were a dog (Great Dane)
I’d shit on Unix, your dread brain.

Leopard, Leopard, turning right
At that garish traffic light,
When left is where I want to go;
Stupid cat, you ain’t no pro.

(Blake)

Big Bother

Earth’s most advanced OS? Yeah, right.
Saint Jobs is pissing all over us, rather;
See him smile, our shepherd and father,
As he rapes a pro with a traffic light.

Whatever happened to the classic Mac’s
Toolness and logic and pure damn class?
Swapped for a sausage of baby-blue glass;
And geeks have their feet on our necks.

Welcome to Mac OS X, sweet chimp.
There’s plenty of beachballs to play with.
The MacLash, you say? No, that’s a myth;
Platinum? He was a gray-bearded wimp.