This is me, Eccles

This is me, Eccles
This is me, Eccles

Wednesday 29 February 2012

A geust blogger, de Brad of Avon

It aint easy to keep writin spiritaully nuorishin fings about how Bosco and me is saved, and de Cathlics is all headin for de Lake of Fire, so I has got a geust blogger to do it for me todday.

Brad of Avon. Feed me till I wants no more.

Well, God's above all; and there be souls must be saved, and there be
souls must not be saved.
(Othello)

For mine own part,—no offence to the general, nor any man of quality,—
I hope to be saved.
(Othello)

Descend to darkness and the burning lake!
(Henry VI part II)

Enough; I read your fortune in your eye.
Was this the idol that you worship so?
(Two Gentlemen of Verona)

Iddle of Peter

O thou senseless form,
Thou shalt be worshipp'd, kiss'd, loved and adored!
And, were there sense in his idolatry,
My substance should be statue in thy stead.
(Two Gentlemen of Verona)

Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you
For more amazement. If you can behold it,
I'll make the statue move indeed, descend
And take you by the hand.
(Winter's Tale)

Boskos vauvado: I understand thee, and can speak thy tongue.
(All's Well That Ends Well)

But, good my brother,
Do not as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven.
(Hamlet)

My bruvver Bosco

But what is your affair in Elsinore?
We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.
(Hamlet)

Priest, beware your beard,
I mean to tug it and to cuff you soundly:
Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat:
In spite of pope or dignities of church,
Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down.
(Henry VI Part I)

Yet I alone, alone do me oppose
Against the pope and count his friends my foes.
(King John)

The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
Which we call 'mollis aer;' and 'mollis aer'
We term it 'mulier'.
(Cymbeline)

If there be more, more woeful, hold it in;
For I am almost ready to dissolve,
Hearing of this.
(King Lear)

Mollis Aer

Well, dat's all de Shakespere you needs to know. Dere is some uvver stuff no duobt, but it aint needed for Salivation.

8 comments:

  1. As a graduate of the Shakespeare Institute, a habitue of the Folger Library, a full-time authentic priest who works in a highly secular occupation, and a casual browser of Dr Thompson's blog where I post under only ONE name I have to conclude that Shakespeare is merely a sockpuppet of Benedict Carter, and that "Mollis Aer"/"Mulier" line is a textual clue to the REAL Moly, who is quite clearly a sockpuppet of the traddie blogger Aqa Fortis.

    From "Cannon's Mouth Eleven"

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dat's a terrifyin thuoght, but de logic is incontrovertibble. Shakespere is either de rabit or Ben Crater. Dem sockpossums gets everywhere, as my Anti Moly says.

      Delete
    2. Shakespeare is actually one of mine...

      (the question of whether I myself am the rabbit is another one entirely, of course)

      Delete
  2. "Brad of Avon. Feed me till I wants no more."

    Am I the only person who reads the ALT texts to your images?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. We HMTL experts allways adds an ALT text, Dammon.

      Delete
  3. We're traddies. We don't approve of ALT texts. You aren't Cardinal Bugnini's sockpuppet are you, Damon?

    Jadis

    ReplyDelete
  4. Here are some more excerpts from Damian's lovely DT blog talkback, the latest one entitled "A witchcraft scandal on our doorstep"

    Molly : Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd. ROFL

    Pholas : Thrice and once, the sockpuppet whin'd.

    Daryl : Damian blogs : —'tis time! 'tis time!

    Molly : Round about the caldron go; (pours herself a large gin)
    In the poison'd comments throw.—
    Toad, that under cold stone,
    Days and nights has thirty-one;
    Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
    Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!

    ALL : Double, double toil and trouble;
    Fire burn, and caldron bubble. ROFL LOL ROFL

    Molly : Fillet of a traddy clique,
    In the caldron boil and bake;
    Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
    Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
    Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
    Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,—
    For a charm of powerful trouble,
    Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

    ALL : Double, double toil and trouble;
    Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

    Pholas : Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf;
    Witches' mummy; Eccles' aunty;
    Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark;
    Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark;
    Liver of blaspheming priest in good standing;
    Atheists' brains, and slips of yew
    Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse;
    Nose of cyberstalker, and Blogger's Mouse;
    Finger of birth-strangled babe
    Post-natally abortion'd by a drab,—
    Make the gruel thick and slab:
    Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
    For the ingrediants of our caldron.

    ALL : Double, double toil and trouble;
    Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

    Molly : Cool it with a baboon's blood,
    Then the charm is firm and good.
    That'll show these traddy catholic claquers
    A thing or two. ROFL LOL ROFL

    Exeunt all stage trapdoor, biting the carpet and grasping several bottles of gin.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dat's very good. I hadn't reallised dat Damian was bloggin about my Anti Moly now.

      Delete