quote:

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.

Holy crap. I mean, I'm just a hack, but doing a bit of programming makes you appreciate even the stunning achievement of OS X as an operating system. And yet, as stunning as all those layers of unix and Aqua may be, when I think of something else -- the original Mac -- it is not "stunning" that occurs to me. It's awe. I'm awed by the attention to detail, and just the general ethos, that went into the making of the original Mac. It wasn't perfect. No reasonable person would say that it was. Nostalgia shouldn't cloud the mind or paint too rosy a picture. But the original OS had a real attention to detail, and this attention to detail (and to user friendliness uber alles) influenced a whole generation of developers, and in a good way. If you weren't sure what to do you could just look at the OS itself and some of the Apps that Apple supplied with it. It was the foundation from which some real fine innovation was spawned, including the Adobe-type palettes (or whoever the inventor was).

Granted. OS X has offered some nice advancements, including Spotlight (at least in Finder windows) and the unfinished Column View, to name a couple. (I still think the Dock is horrible and wouldn't even be considered a beta at NeocomSoft.) But I really appreciate the anal attention to detail the old system had. It's as if they always asked themselves, "How can we make this easier for the user?" But now? What do you suppose the question is that they ask themselves? Maybe "Does this look cool?"

Nothing wrong with cool but, sheesh, the first question is so much more important...not to mention noble.

Primate Change

As more and more Mac pros, all over town,
Knee-deep in crap, put themselves down,
We ask Steve & Co: Fellows, what gives?
Will Apple, Inc. clean up these stiffs?

They smash their heads on unstable bytes,
They hang themselves from traffic lights;
They slash their throats with toys of quartz,
They gas themselves with NeXT-Men’s farts.

Some go to the docks and jump to their death,
Others launch iChoke and take a deep breath;
Some, on safari, get eaten by bugs,
Others drink crapqua from OpenSource jugs.

Some take a beachball and swallow it whole,
Still other pros dine on a glass-sausage roll.
They lower the tone, these frightful old stiffs:
Apple, Inc., Apple, Inc., fellows, what gives?

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

Terrorists

She hates the USA, that witch
(Lewinsky’s boyfriend’s wife);
Obama is Osama’s bitch,
Al Gore hates human life.

Jack Murtha is a commie prick
Who, given half the chance,
Would suck his hero Castro’s dick;
John Kerry, move to France.

Pelosi’s just a marxist cow,
Ted K.’s a murd’rous joke--
All these jerks, in love with Mao,
Hate Freedom, Kirk, and Coke.

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

.
Good one, yabor! A perfect snapshot of American right-wing talk radio.

Or any political post by Rico.
.

Thanks, counselor.
Happy Easter. We're having a white Easter over here. It snows, I mean.

quote:

All these jerks, in love with Mao,
Hate Freedom, Kirk, and Coke.

Captain James T. Kirk

The Omen

Once in freezing NeXT York City, as I was making love to Kitty,
Licking sausages and gumdrops untill my tongue was sore,
While her beachballs were a-spinning (as they did from the beginning)
Suddenly I heard a ringing, a ringing at my see-through door.
“Tis some liberal,” I muttered, “ringing at my see-through door--
Time, I guess, to go to war.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was April or September,
Or it could have been December, or indeed the month before.
Anyway, that very morrow I had vainly sought to borrow
A DVD of Zorro--Zorro who with bad guys wipes the floor--
With evil bastards not unlike that fat fuck Michael Moore--
A terrorist for evermore.

And Safari at that moment quitting (though that’s proper and befitting)
Pissed me off and filled me with a red-hot anger never felt before;
Turning down the central heating, blowing steam I stood repeating,
“Tis some liberal entreating entrance at my see-through door -
Some wet fucking liberal beating at my lovely see-through door;--
Fuck you, asshole, this is war.”

I drew my gun and cocked the trigger, when, with many a fart and snigger,
In there stepped that Gaia bitch of whom we all have heard before.
Not the least obeisance made she; not a minute stopped or stayed she;
But, with mien of queen or lady, parked her fat ass on my floor -
Just below a bust of Nelson Gaia parked her ass upon my floor--
Which made me good and sore.

“Fuck thee!” said I, “fuck thee, devil!--fuck thee, thou art fucking evil! -
Whether Gore himself or merely Satan tossed thee here ashore,
A fucking fraud yet all undaunted, on this freezing town enchanted--
On this home by X-bugs haunted--tell me, for you know the score--
Is there an Ice Age coming?--tell me, tell me, bitch of Gore!'
Quoth Ma Gaia, “Fuck thee more.”

“Be those words our sign of parting, evil witch!” I shrieked upstarting--
“Get thee back into the crapfest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no green turd as a token of the lies Al Gore hath spoken!
Thy CO2 was never broken!--move thine ass outside my door!
For some reason I can’t shoot thee, but move thine ass outside my door!
Quoth Ma Gaia, “Nevermore.”

And Ma Gaia, green turds shitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
Just below the bust of Nelson on my clutter-free blue floor;
And her eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the spotlight o'er her streaming throws her shadow on my door;
And this blue-white fat old hag, who weighs half a ton or more,
Can't be shifted--fuck you, Gore!

(Poe)

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

Oh that is truly hysterical broeder yabor.

Edgar is probably the best American wordsmith ever par none.

Just now I changed the ending, improving it mucho, I think.
Broeder Rico, where's my aircraft carrier?

Oh my holy hannah, that's now up there with my favorite all time Sillies. I could just see the bust of Nelson.

And I think I'm going to actually start saying "fuck thee" and "fuck thee more" to people.

lol.

The Best Of Times

I was picturing a mushroom cloud
Blooming high o’er Tel Aviv
When on TV I saw a crowd
Of muslim youths expressing grief;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Burning cars in merry France.

I heard some trembling euro duke
Beg to kiss a mullah’s bum:
The USA doth make me puke,
And please feel free to stone my mum.
Apostates swung from nearby trees:
Fine work by Allah’s Thought Police.

I saw a UN spokeswimp shit
His pants when shown a Mo cartoon:
Free speech is great, I do admit,
But greater is the Crescent Moon.
And as I said my prayers I thought
What wealth Sharia law has brought:

For instance, when my wives I slap
I tell them (when in pensive mood)
That I would rather take a nap,
But that I punch them for their good;
And then their hearts with pleasure fill
As they bow to Allah's will.

(William Wordsworth)

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

A Tragedy

My name is Reggie P. Oedipoid.
Annoyed with daddy (an idoit),
I went to see Dr. S. Freud--
A wanker you'll want to avoid.

He told me my case was complex,
And he urged me to stop having sex
With mummy (she's married to Rex),
And to masterbait in the annexe.

I took his advice but now find
My eyes have died--I am blind.
And rot eats away at my mind--
I sure feel screwed from behind.

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

quote:

My name is Reggie P. Oedipoid.
Annoyed with daddy (an idoit),
I went to see Dr. S. Freud--
A wanker you'll want to avoid.

LOL. And a new word is born. I wonder if we should spell it "iDoit." Brother Rico gets to supply us with the official definition.

The word is already in usage here, pronounced as if french:

"id-WAH"

The Speech

Whose church this is I think I know.
I didn’t hear the sermon though;
I was merely sitting here
Yearning for a marlboro.

Some pedants say that I gave ear
To hateful crap year after year;
“Home to roost”? Give me a break:
I was in bed, or in Zaire,

Or with the wife eating a steak,
Or on Mars, make no mistake.
Once again: I was asleep--
And grandma is a racist snake.

My country is a garbage heap.
Here a nigger’s life is cheap.
And Clinton is a lying creep,
And Clinton is a lying creep.

(Robert Frost)

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

Sunflowers

Whose work this is I think you know.
Yes indeed, it’s a Van Gogh.
Beloved by many, great career
(After he was buried though.)

He gave a whore part of his ear.
This girl--a shallow soul, I fear--
(Or did she think the ear was fake?)
Tossed away said souvenir.

Whereupon Gauguin (a snake
Whose paintings suck, make no mistake)
Left town while Vincent was asleep.
They were "brothers”, for God’s sake.

Vincent’s paintings, though not cheap,
Are well worth buying, if you keep
In mind they are direct yet deep
(No kinky Christs nor flying sheep.)

(Robert Frost)

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

Greetings from Holland

Islam and Al Gore are all the rage.
Females walk round in in burkinis,
Men folk drive wind-powered Minis.
All the EU is a darkening stage.

Free speech is OUT, ID-cards are IN.
We pray to Gaia in pleasant green parks
Adorned with statues of Atta and Marx.
To be a Jew is to live in sin.

Sans permission I can’t scratch my back.
Green Commissars tax every breath
We take from our birth till our death.
P.S. Muslims invented the Mac.

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

That's a pretty good one, Yabor.

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

Thanks. Here's a better version, I think:

Greetings from the EU

Islam and Al Gore are in fashion.
Our females plant trees in burkinis,
Our men drive wind-powered Minis.
We hate CO2 with a passion.

Walking on eggshells is all the rage.
We pray to Gaia in schools and parks
Adorned with statues of Atta and Marx.
We live on a green-painted stage.

Free speech is out, ID-cards are back.
From our conception until our death
The State counts our every damn breath.
P.S. Muslims invented the Mac.

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

Okay, you're pleasantly starting to resemble Joan Baez.

quote:

THE ALTAR BOY AND THE THIEF 
(Words and Music by Joan Baez)

At night in the safety of shadows and numbers 
Seeking some turf on which nothing encumbers 
The buying and selling of casual looks 
Stuff that gets printed in x-rated books 
Your mother might have tried to understand 
When you were hardly your daddy's little man 
And you gave up saluting the chief 
To find yourself some relief

Finely plucked eyebrows and skin of satin 
Smiling seductive and endlessly Latin 
Olympic body on dancing feet 
Perfume thickening the air like heat 
A transient star of gay bar fame 
You quit your job and changed your name 
And you're nearly beyond belief 
As you hunt down a little relief

The seven foot black with the emerald ring 
Broke up a fight without saying a thing 
As the cops cruised by wanting one more chance 
To send Jimmy Baldwin back over to France 
And a trucker with kids and a wife 
Prefers to spend half of his life 
In early Bohemian motif 
Playing pool and getting relief

My favorite couple was looking so fine 
Dancing in rhythm and laughing in rhyme 
In the light of the jukebox all yellow and blue 
Holding each other as young lovers do 
To me they will always remain 
Unshamed, untamed, and unblamed 
The altar boy and the thief 
Grabbing themselves some relief

The altar boy and the thief 
Catching a little relief

Or maybe...

quote:

CHINA 
(Words and Music by Joan Baez)

In the month of May, in the glory of the day 
Came the descendants of a hundred flowers 
And their fight it did begin with the aging Mandarin 
And they fought with an extraordinary power 
Everyone was smiling, their hearts were one 
In Tiananmen Square

But it seems that the Spring this year in Beijing 
Came just before the Fall 
There was no summer at all 
In Tiananmen Square 
China... China

There's peace in the emerald fields, there's mist upon the lakes 
But something is afoot in the People's Hall 
The spirit of Chu Ping is alive in young Chai Ling 
And the Emperor has his back against the wall 
Black sun rising over Tiananmen Square 
Over Tiananmen Square

But it seems that the Spring this year in Beijing 
Came just before the Fall 
There was no summer at all 
In Tiananmen Square 
China... China

In the month of June, in the darkness of the moon 
Went the descendants of a hundred flowers 
And time may never tell how many of them fell 
Like the petals of a rose in some satanic shower 
Everyone was weeping in all of China 
And Tiananmen Square

But it seems that the Spring this year in Beijing 
Came just before the Fall 
There was no summer at all 
In Tiananmen Square 
China... China

And even the moon on the fourth day of June 
Hid her face and did not see 
Black sun rising over Tiananmen Square

And Wang Wei Lin, you remember him 
All alone he stood before the tanks 
A shadow of forgotten ancestors in Tiananmen Square

And my blue-eyed son, you had no one 
You could call a hero of your age 
You have the rainbow warriors of Tiananmen Square, singing 
China Shall Be Free 
China Shall Be Free 
China Shall Be Free

The point is, she's one "touchy-feely" artist who's not afraid to take a whack at the left. You can about count those types on one hand.

quote:

I know you are surrounded 
By parasites and sychophants 
When I come to see you 
I dose up on coagulants 
Because when you hurl that bowie knife 
It's going to be when my back is turned 
Doing some little deed for you 
And baby, will I get burned

Yabor or Joan Baez?