h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Thing! Glorious Thing!!! Most hated say of the ites!

*pops the cork on a bottle of and pours for the Thingites*

...and a lovely Thursday it is. We've had 12 inches of fresh snow. No clients calling in to the studio because they're all home watching Gilligan's Island re-runs. Life is good on Thursdays!

Ahhh!

though today is a with that ing economic summit just down the street and the traffic and all it still cannot dim the true glory of THING.

Poets, Poets, poets!!!!!!

One morn before me were three figures seen,
With bowed necks, and joined hands, side-faced;
And one behind the other stepp'd serene,
In placid sandals, and in white robes graced:
They pass'd, like figures on a marble urn,
When shifted round to see the other side;
They came again; as when the urn once more
Is shifted round, the first seen shades return;
And they were strange to me, as may betide
With vases, to one deep in Phidian lore.

How is it, shadows, that I knew ye not?
How came ye muffled in so hush a masque?
Was it a silent deep-disguised plot
To steal away, and leave without a task
My idle days? Ripe was the drowsy hour;
The blissful cloud of summer-indolence
Benumb'd my eyes; my pulse grew less and less;
Pain had no sting, and pleasure's wreath no flower.
O, why did ye not melt, and leave my sense
Unhaunted quite of all but - nothingness?

A third time pass'd they by, and, passing, turn'd
Each one the face a moment whiles to me;
Then faded, and to follow them I burn'd
And ached for wings, because I knew the three:
The first was a fair maid, and Love her name;
The second was Ambition, pale of cheek,
And ever watchful with fatigued eye;
The last, whom I love more, the more of blame
Is heap'd upon her, maiden most unmeek, -
I knew to be my demon Poesy.

They faded, and, forsooth! I wanted wings:
O folly! What is Love? and where is it?
And for that poor Ambition - it springs
From a man's little heart's short fever-fit;
For Poesy! - no, - she has not a joy, -
At least for me, - so sweet as drowsy noons,
And evenings steep'd in honied indolence;
O, for an age so shelter'd from annoy,
That I may never know how change the moons,
Or hear the voice of busy common-sense!

A third time came they by: - alas! wherefore?
My sleep had been embroider'd with dim dreams;
My soul had been a lawn besprinkled o'er
With flowers, and stirring shades, and baffled beams:
The morn was clouded, but no shower fell,
Though in her lids hung the sweet tears of May;
The open casement press'd a new-leaved vine,
Let in the budding warmth and throstle's lay;
O shadows! 'twas a time to bid farewell!
Upon your skirts had fallen no tears of mine.

So, ye three ghosts, adieu! Ye cannot raise
My head cool-bedded in the flowery grass;
For I would not be dieted with praise,
A pet-lamb in a sentimental farce!
Fade softly from my eyes, and be once more
In masque-like figures on the dreary urn;
Farewell! I yet have visions for the night,
And for the day faint visions there is store;
Vanish, ye phantoms, from my idle spright,
Into the clouds, and never more return!

I hereby declare that I do not want to hear anymore about these piffling arguments. Today is a day, whether it be Poets or the other one. Can we please just all get along for a bit, as I am getyting all a bit miffed with life and I might have to sulk if we can't all be nice.

Right. Rant over.

*wanders away disconsolately*

No that really was Keats.

He's right you know......

Was just being all a bit fed up with arguments, not having a go at Keats:-p

Tis Wibble all. Time of ness and !

Just Thursday and Friday to go until the weekend!

Humpday?
Sounds good to me...

You don't have that term for Wednesday in the UK?

HUMPDAY!HUMPDAY!HUMPDAY!HUMPDAY!HUMPDAY!HUMPDAY!HUMPDAY!

Well it's no Thursday!

No, we don't. Possibly 'hump' means something different...

It has varried meaning here also.
But in this context it refers to
getting over the hump or hill of the workweek.
So it's all downhill toward the weekend!

How disappointing...

*listens intently to the conversation between Pf and elwood*

*wonders if 'humpday' would be such a good idea if that were the only day you were allowed*

On the other hand, if you were unable to initiate incidents of such a nature (for whatever reason), you may well be pleased for a day that specified the task *has* to be carried out *ponders*