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RAGTIME VOGON POETRY AND ITS THEOLOGICAL CONSEQUENCES

RAGTIME VOGON POETRY AND ITS
THEOLOGICAL CONSEQUENCES

There are some who wonder why God allows Vogons to destroy whole
planets, thus sending trillions of lifeforms to undeserved oblivion. Although
we can't speak for God (only His press agent and a few prophets can that),
anonymous sources have informed us that Heaven recognizes two principle
benefits from Vogon planet-bashing:

1. Heaven needs more Angels (sorry, Dodgers fans), and
2. Wanton destruction gives Vogons more material from which they fashion
their poetry.

Now, argument number one needs little explanation. Number two, however,
may appear illogical at first. After all, isn't Vogon poetry pretty bad? Well, the
charitable explanation is that the Vogons haven't been writing for very long,
and they might get better as they get more practice. And no one, not even
the Devil, wants Vogon poetry to get any worse than it already is. (Not that
anyone thinks it could.....but who wants to tempt fate?)

Actually, there is sometimes a third reason given:

3. Vogons selectively target for destruction those planets inhabited dispropor-
tionately by poetry critics. With fewer critics in the cosmos, no one will know
just how bad the Vogons are as poets. (God and the Devil know, of course,
but the Vogons don't know which planets they can be found on, nyah, nyah!)

Ragtime Vogons take poetry a step further by setting it to music, specifically
ragtime, a type of syncopated music which took America by storm during the first
15 years of the twentieth century. In the hands of talented composers
like Scott Joplin, Eubie Blake, or Irving Berlin, ragtime was an irresistible
treat. In the hands of the Vogons, well, .........words fail us. Judge for yourself
from the following examples:


The Maple Leaf Vogon Rag
(With apologies to Scott Joplin )

I am the meanest Vogon in this wretched galaxy.
I've axed a hundred planets since this morning after tea.
I've abused the in-flight caterers
For their soggy mashed potaterers.
My job is really ducky
'Cause the stuff I do is yucky.
All the other Vogons watch in admiration
As I shake the earth's foundation
With the Vogon Leaf Rag.


The Vogon Entertainer
(More apologies to S.J.)

Where is my old straw hat?
Where are my spiky shoes?
Time to give everyone the blues!
Oh,
There's a pleasure that none can match,
When you are ugly and green, and can't dance.
But your audience has to watch
As around the whole spaceship you prance.
You are footloose and feelin' pumped
(Although your softshoe is more like CLUMP! CLUMP!).
You're the body electric,
The Vogon select trick,
The star of the planet-bustin' show!

Discuss this Journal entry [4]

Latest reply: Jun 26, 2001

Limericks for the literary set

We're lamenting the death of poor Douglas.
For now, even Atlas is shrugless.
Like brave Arthur Dent,
Doug came, saw, and went,
But at least his life wasn't hugless.

There once was a child named Alice
Who fell on the Queen of Hearts' palace.
She met a white bunny
Who acted so funny
(Who knows what they put in his chalice?).

Oh, Hamlet was king of the Danes.
Decisions were always his banes.
He said, "Should I shower,
Or read Schopenhauer,
Or just be a model for Hanes?"

There once was a king named MacBeth,
Whose ambition brought bloodshed and death.
He often asked "Why
Do these thanes always die?"
The witches replied, "It's your breath."



Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: Jun 9, 2001

Limericks for the literary set



There once was a child named Alice
Who fell on the Queen of Hearts' palace.
She met a white bunny
Who acted so funny
(Who knows what they put in his chalice?).

Oh, Hamlet was king of the Danes.
Decisions were always his banes.
He said, "Should I shower,
Or read Schopenhauer,
Or just be a model for Hanes?"

There once was a king named MacBeth,
Whose ambition brought bloodshed and death.
He often asked "Why
Do these thanes always die?"
The witches replied, "It's your breath."

Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: Jun 9, 2001

CURRENT EVENTS

NEWS FROM AROUND THE WORLD,
AS TOLD IN THE FORM OF LIMERICKS

A Hindu Afghani named Mabel
Was perturbed about wearing a label:
"Taliban's persecution
Cries out for solution!
Why, they won't even let me watch cable!"

A farmer from Fresno was glummer
When told he'd get no rain all summer.
"Global warming," he'd pout,
Is the reason, no doubt,
Why weather gets dumber and dumber!"

Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: May 27, 2001

Hitchiker's guide to the English-speaking universe: FAQ's


Hitchhiker's guide to the English-speaking universe

Frequently-asked questions about Galactic English

Question: I am confused about the role of the English language in the universe. Everyone speaks English in the science fiction movies and television shows that I watch, but whenever I leave the house to go shopping in the supermarket, my ears are bombarded with Chinese, Spanish, Hindi, indeed everything EXCEPT English. Why Is Earth the only planet in the cosmos where English is not in common use?

Answer: We asked The Inter-Galactic Board of Language Enforcement (IGBOLE, for short) to rule on your question, and they assured us that your ears must be deceiving you. Either that, or these non-English-speaking beings that you hear are from another universe (which is by definition impossible, but we must humor them until they
come to their senses).

Question: Can nothing be done to persuade these beings that English is the only valid way to communicate?

Answer: IGBOLE has set up a pilot program to ferry non-English-speaking people--200 million at a time--to 100,000 different planets for intensive English lessons. We think that they will WANT to learn English, because there would be no other valid reason for them to have left their own universe for ours. Or, if they erred by coming here, they will see their error as soon as the lessons begin.
Of course, if IGBOLE's first theory is correct (that these beings don't, in fact, exist), then it will hard to ship them anywhere. But the bright side of this eventuality is that they are harmless to everyone except you. If we can persuade you that you don't exist either, IGBOLE's job will be whole lot easier.

Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: May 25, 2001


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paulh. Following butterflies through the meadows

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