Friday, July 4, 2008

Readings: Dung Happens

I have, for some time now, been reading one of mankind's top ten literary masterpieces, Don Quixote, without posting any excerpts from it. This morning, however, I came across a passage that seemed to cast the brilliance of Cervante's wit and wisdom on a feeling that has been fidgeting around in some dark corner of my mind, just below the level of consciousness, thus revealing it in the light of understanding.

In the following, the humble, but loyal, Sancho Panza may be understood as representing your host. Don Quixote will be understood to hold the place of all those blog post gurus and sages of the comment box with whom I have come in contact since entering the blogosphere some years ago:

"Each day, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "you are becoming less doltish and more wise."

"Yes, master, for some of your wisdom must stick to me," said Sancho, "just as land that is of itself barren and dry will eventually, by dint of dunging and tilling, come to yield a goodly crop. What I mean to say is that your worship's talk has been the dung that has fallen upon the barren soil of my poor wit and that the time during which I have served you and enjoyed your company has been the tillage.

Dung: dig it.


Anonymous said...

On this fine Independence day, while Fox News types go into primary color orgiastic spasms, I salute you, mon frere!


Rodak said...

Thanks, MS. Although I didn't have the broken leg, that story is very familiar to me.
My draft status, btw, was 1A-O. There was nuthin' "unfit" about ol' Rodak, other than his willingness to do what he was told.

William R. Barker said...

While we (this means you too, Mad!) often tilt at DIFFERENT windmills, I tend to assume we all have our hearts in the right place.


And... on those occasions where we all have the same target in sight... DAMN! WE'RE AWESOME!



Rodak said...

Yeah, we are all whores with hearts of gold.