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and the dog ate mother's toes...arghh!!!!!!!!!!
Posted by: LaguitoMojo | April 22, 2004 at 04:19 AM
Oh, and FIRST!
Posted by: LaguitoMojo | April 22, 2004 at 04:21 AM
"On average, a poet had a life-expectancy of only 62, he said. It compared to playwrights' average age 63 years, novelists' 66 years and non-fiction writers' 68 years."
Where does a humor columnist fit in the spectrum? Or a one-person-research-department-for-a-humor-columnist? Or someone who's major contribution to world literature is commeting on someone else's blog? When will the government fund research on the issues that people REALLY care about?
Posted by: mike | April 22, 2004 at 04:22 AM
"Maybe we can meld again."
Dammit Spock, I'm a doctor, not a poet! Now get your mind-melding fingers away from my temple!
Posted by: MOTW | April 22, 2004 at 04:32 AM
Roses are . . .
AAAAAARRRRRGG!
Posted by: Mahatma Kane Jeeves | April 22, 2004 at 04:35 AM
Oh! take me now!
Oh! torture me no more!
With your couplets and rhymes
With obtuse references
With flowerey words
With sing-song meter
With your poetry...
You pain my brain.
Posted by: Tralex | April 22, 2004 at 04:38 AM
I can't seem to follow the logic here . . .
"Dr Kaufman said there may also have been another explanation for poets' early deaths - their prodigious output usually made them more noticeable. Poets produce twice as much of their lifetime output in their twenties as novelists do," he said. "If an unpublished novelist was to die, fewer people would notice.
. . . so notoriety causes death? Or do writers only have so much output in them and, when it's used up, they die?
Posted by: Boo Augustus | April 22, 2004 at 04:41 AM
Boo - maybe they need some charcoal underpants to curb their 'output.'
No! It was the dog, HONEST! I'm just a poet!
Posted by: MOTW | April 22, 2004 at 04:43 AM
. . . or the causual connection. Dave, how many more novels (published or otherwise) do you have in you before you wither away and die. I can reserve the bookshelf space now.
Posted by: Boo Augustus | April 22, 2004 at 04:44 AM
I had this summer.... BANG!
This is why poets live shorter lifes
Just say NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO to bad poetry
Posted by: bubba | April 22, 2004 at 04:45 AM
Is three to six years that much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. Now if poets lived an average of twenty years less then writers, then that is news and time to change careers.
Posted by: Ryan | April 22, 2004 at 04:58 AM
Isn't poetry the same as Rapp? What day is this?
Posted by: jazz | April 22, 2004 at 05:15 AM
The Lundberg Survey reported Tuesday that gasoline prices at the pump just hit an all-time high. Oil is forty dollars a barrel. This summer if you want to take a trip without the kids, the Automobile Club recommends LSD and birth control pills.
Posted by: henrywadsworthshortfellow | April 22, 2004 at 05:21 AM
I write haiku now
little did I know it was
bound to be fatal
Posted by: Andrea | April 22, 2004 at 05:21 AM
everyone who has
written a haiku poem
one day will be dead
Posted by: mike | April 22, 2004 at 05:34 AM
mike, your warning is
just one unit short in the
middle haiku line.
Posted by: markhh | April 22, 2004 at 05:43 AM
Mr. Cranky Pants is DOOMED!!!!
Posted by: mike | April 22, 2004 at 05:44 AM
Boo Augustus:
the relationship is tricky but not harder to understand than the fact that your life expectancy goes up as you age (if you were 30 and you reach 31, you have escaped all your chances of dying at 30 so your expectancy goes up just a little bit).
Then (you are a famous novelist) => (you are probably old, because novelist become famous later in life) => your life expectancy is higher.
Posted by: stats | April 22, 2004 at 05:44 AM
markhh, I pronounce poem as 2 syllables, so I don't agree.
Posted by: mike | April 22, 2004 at 05:44 AM
I found this by searching the site....(I am NOT making this up)
I Am Part Of You
My body is new, I am newborn son
But look at me for who I am:
A soul that's old, yet just begun
To live again in flesh, awaiting your intention
Wanting only love for you, believing your dimension.
Recognize my faith in you and show your faith in me...
Watch me now extend your trust to everyone I see.
Always let me choose my life, remember why we met...
Support the way I teach myself to never be a pet.
I hope I give you all I ask and hope I don't ignore
The beauty that we share inside
Created so we'd never hide
We'd never lack reality and never try for more
Than who we were before.
Reluctant to let go of how we dance to hide our souls,
We'll never loose that part of us that we met when I was born!
Dave Barry
Copyright ©2004 Dave Barry
Posted by: Harry P | April 22, 2004 at 05:48 AM
Dave.....is that???? GAAAAAA. Hurl alert!
There once was a man from Wisconsin
Oh wait..that was Nantucket.
Well, he'll get his soon enough.
Punky--does writing bad poetry accelerate death? Cuz I figure he's got abou two months left, tops.
Posted by: pamela troeppl | April 22, 2004 at 05:50 AM
Dave.....is that???? GAAAAAA. Hurl alert!
There once was a man from Wisconsin
Oh wait..that was Nantucket.
Well, he'll get his soon enough.
Punky--does writing bad poetry accelerate death? Cuz I figure he's got abou two months left, tops.
Posted by: pamela troeppl | April 22, 2004 at 05:50 AM
"If an unpublished novelist was to die, fewer people would notice."
If an unpublished novelist dies in the forest does anyone give a sh!t?
Posted by: Jeff Meyerson | April 22, 2004 at 05:51 AM
Punky, I DO live in the south. For another 2 weeks, anyways.....
Posted by: mike | April 22, 2004 at 05:56 AM
Me thinks Pam is doubly serious......
Posted by: fred miller | April 22, 2004 at 05:57 AM
So if they switch from poetry to playwriting they'll live an entire year longer? Sounds like the Death Clock giving me two EXTRA years if I take up smoking.
Posted by: Jeff Meyerson | April 22, 2004 at 06:14 AM
Always a good thing any time you can work "We've been devitalized;" into a poem...
Clearly the freedom of the internet is as much a tool for evil as for good!
Posted by: xapi | April 22, 2004 at 06:17 AM
The death rates for poets currently stands at 100%. Good.
Posted by: Justin Seine | April 22, 2004 at 06:26 AM
There was a young maid from Madras,
AAAAAARRRRRGG!
Posted by: Mahatma Kane Jeeves | April 22, 2004 at 06:29 AM
More proof Dave doesn't have much time left with us.
That's Enough
I woke this morn to find my name
Had been illegally appropriated
By a copyright pirate
Named Freemont Lamont Tremont.
I don't appreciate that.
My attornies AND the attornies
Of the Miami Herald
Will be in touch.
Do not, I repeat DO NOT
everevereverever
visit rebelholler.com.
Dog mother toes.
Dave Barry
Copyright ©2004 Dave Barry
Speaking of the Death Clock, shouldn't it be asking if you are a poet or not?
Posted by: BMX3 | April 22, 2004 at 06:44 AM
Of course no thread about poetry would be complete without the ever deadly Vogon poetry. It is similar in form, content and theme to much of the HS senior poetry that I am force to peruse. Vogons do have better spelling, however, as I am sure you will appreciate.
Goop I implore thee, my Joonting turlingdromes.
And beebtiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles.
Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my burglecruncheon. See if I don't.
Your personal Death Clocks have now been reset minus several thousand seconds. HeHeHe
Posted by: Lily | April 22, 2004 at 06:57 AM
La nature est un temple . . .
Le AAAAAARRRRRGG!
Posted by: Mahatma Kane Jeeves | April 22, 2004 at 07:05 AM
Haiku Haiku
Five short syllables
Seven more for good measure
Then -- a surprise -- AAAAAAARRRRRGH!
Posted by: vinnie | April 22, 2004 at 07:39 AM
Who huh what? Okay..
Posted by: MeL | April 22, 2004 at 07:41 AM
5.1 MILLION POETS ON THAT SITE???!!!
Oh.
My.
God...
There must be some *really* bad poetry in there and some *REALLY* overly self-important "poets", too...
I'm askeert
Posted by: csavage | April 22, 2004 at 07:52 AM
So, I suppose that since I just sit here and write humorless sarcastic comments with no rhyme or reason, and have no unwritten novels clogging my arteries, then I will live forever!
Take that, Death Clock!
Posted by: elfbrains | April 22, 2004 at 07:52 AM
Methinks Punky is up to something...
Posted by: MeL | April 22, 2004 at 07:56 AM
Guess if ya drink enough it wouldn't matter what direction it was going. ;)
Posted by: MeL | April 22, 2004 at 08:09 AM
Why, when I think of all of these fine ladies getting together, does the exchange...
"so, what are we gonna do tonight, punky?"
"the same thing we do every night, MeL, try to take over the world..."
...come to mind?
I know, I should be having less g-rated thoughts, like the rest of the guys, but ya know, obsession has its limits.
Posted by: elfbrains | April 22, 2004 at 08:10 AM
That sound suspiciously like a scene from Pinky and the Brain. :P
Posted by: MeL | April 22, 2004 at 08:13 AM
So it does.
So you are saying that I am overestimating you?
Posted by: elfbrains | April 22, 2004 at 08:15 AM
No..no overestimation..perhaps UNDER. Seeing as how their plots always fail. If Punky is out to overtake the world I'm sure her plan will be genious and the world will be ours. O>:)
Posted by: MeL | April 22, 2004 at 08:17 AM
I'm still working out who is the genius and who is insane. Not that these are mutually exclusive.
And how do you know they failed - maybe they just wanted you to THINK that they failed.
Posted by: elfbrains | April 22, 2004 at 08:19 AM
Maybe they they just want you to know, that they know, that you think they have failed.
Really, look around boys, do your women-folk ever give you the impression that they are NOT in charge?
I rest my case.
Posted by: Lily | April 22, 2004 at 08:28 AM
Maybe, to be on the safe side, tomorrow's man. Harry P, Doug Brockmeier and twopuppies should email me so that we can pretend to be prepared for whatever they're planning.
I hope they don't work for the giant squids.
Posted by: mudstuffin | April 22, 2004 at 08:42 AM
**Retreats in noticing numbered disadvantage, awaits arrived of reinforcements**
Um, Alex? mudstuffin? Hell...Doug? A little help here?
**realizes other guys have slipped in pools of own drool after thought of punky, mel, bangi, et.al together and have been knocked collectively unconscious...retreats further***
Posted by: elfbrains | April 22, 2004 at 08:45 AM
Ah, so you HAVE regained conciousness.
Posted by: elfbrains | April 22, 2004 at 08:47 AM
elf, we already KNOW that Punky is plotting to take over the world. At least now she's being somewhat out in the open about it, and we can keep an eye on her.
Posted by: mike | April 22, 2004 at 08:50 AM
*elf, we already KNOW that Punky is plotting to take over the world. At least now she's being somewhat out in the open about it, and we can keep an eye on her.*
Maybe she is just the diversion and by keeping an eye on her you are leaving the others to carry out her nefarious scheme? Or maybe the others are the diversion and she is the one carrying out the scheme. Or maybe there is no scheme at all and she is just messing with your minds.
Try not to worry about, I'm sure everything will be just fine in the end and you will not feel a thing.
Posted by: Lily | April 22, 2004 at 09:01 AM
I think most of us have been doing that for a while.
Posted by: elfbrains | April 22, 2004 at 09:01 AM
Ladies, I know that I'm not in charge.
That's the way I want it, too.
Posted by: Graz | April 22, 2004 at 09:02 AM
Or maybe I'm the diversion and while you are reading my posts, the plot unfolds?
Posted by: Lily | April 22, 2004 at 09:04 AM
*Ladies, I know that I'm not in charge.
That's the way I want it, too.*
As if you have a choice.
Posted by: Lily | April 22, 2004 at 09:08 AM
That's it, just keep reading my posts. Keep reading ... Keep reading ...
Posted by: Lily | April 22, 2004 at 09:09 AM
Maybe the giant squids work for US?
Keep reading ... Keep reading ...Keep reading ...
Posted by: Lily | April 22, 2004 at 09:12 AM
"Females... they're full of wicked wiles!"
"What are wicked wiles, Grumpy"
"I don't know, but I'm agin' 'em!"
Posted by: mudstuffin | April 22, 2004 at 09:15 AM
Have you ever heard of a woman crew-member dying from putrified squid entrail fumes?
Just something to think about as you ...
Keep reading ... Keep reading ... Keep reading ...Keep reading
Posted by: Lily | April 22, 2004 at 09:15 AM
You're right, Mike- that is like Bangi!
Posted by: evil little pixie | April 22, 2004 at 09:35 AM
As far as Punky's plan go all I have to say is..
"I'll never tell..."
Posted by: MeL | April 22, 2004 at 09:49 AM
Now, Mel, we have all seen that after a few margaritas with alex, your tongue gets as loose as his morals.
Posted by: elfbrains | April 22, 2004 at 09:54 AM
Who paid for this research.......novelists or poets or was it pork in a congressional budget bill?
Posted by: susan | April 22, 2004 at 09:55 AM
Clearly, it was the environmentalists. They're trying to save the rainforests be reducing the demand for paper.
Posted by: mike | April 22, 2004 at 09:57 AM
D@mn, I seem to have lost a thread around here - has anyone seen it?
Anyway, across the hall are a bunch of examples of students' poetry about love. I can see that most of them deserve an early death - or maybe to get married (there are, of course, things worse than death).
Posted by: elfbrains | April 22, 2004 at 09:59 AM
What when alex is around is between me, him, and the...well let's just leave it as it's between me and him. ;)
Posted by: MeL | April 22, 2004 at 10:01 AM
Gee...thanks for making me feel like I'm gonna be the downfall of mankind. :P
Posted by: MeL | April 22, 2004 at 12:18 PM
er womankind. Whatever.
Posted by: MeL | April 22, 2004 at 12:19 PM
Don't worry Dave, they didn't include Rock Star.
Posted by: crash | April 22, 2004 at 12:37 PM
Well, I was going to post something, but after reading about dead poets, and topical haiku and bad Dave(?) poetry and conspiracies to pit blogmen against blogwoman in an apocalyptic war of words that maybe will cause this board to implode, I forgot what I was gonna say.
Posted by: Lmd33 | April 22, 2004 at 01:24 PM
mike, Thanks for that link! And,now that I've gotten past that bad patch in the acid pool, (LTTG as always ;-) I just gotta say
Bangi_Gurl, if you read this, couldja re-consider that black-hooded robe?! Kinda...well...ya'd sure make a splash in my new alt-Hel ice castle comin' in wearin' it and just yer feathered boa beneath! :-)
Always envisioned that boa as black too, but any color that sets You off so flamingly!!!!
Posted by: eadn | April 22, 2004 at 02:11 PM
P.S.sst alex?! A little advice: Do like I do and wait watching and poised. When Punky and the Lasses proceed with their plans, we'll be ready for the show, or to run for the hills, or to dive right in! :-)
Posted by: eadn | April 22, 2004 at 02:15 PM
OK, I'm gonna say it too and anyways: Punky and the Lasses wbagnfarb! :-)
Posted by: eadn | April 22, 2004 at 02:21 PM
*Ahem*...tap..tap...
To Old Age, by Walt Whitman:
I SEE in you the estuary that enlarges and spreads itself grandly as it pours in the gr...gr...gaaaaack! Aarp!
(Applause)
Posted by: Gregg | April 22, 2004 at 02:24 PM
Here Gregg, have a beer to wash that down with! ;-)
Posted by: eadn | April 22, 2004 at 02:26 PM
What plot? there's not plot. What in the world are you boys talking about?
Posted by: MeL | April 22, 2004 at 06:33 PM
I built a machine and took over the world.
I did it because I was looking for a project.
And it was either learn French or take over the world.
So I took over the world. But nothing changed, because that would not be fair.
And next weekend I can learn French.
Posted by: barbiguinness | April 22, 2004 at 06:40 PM
Google? What's google? I know nothing.
Posted by: MeL | April 22, 2004 at 08:12 PM
I'm not listening Gregg. LALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALA
Posted by: MeL | April 22, 2004 at 08:29 PM
I pity the poor Internet-surfing fool that chooses to remain ignorant of Google!
(I know you're being facetious, of course.)
Posted by: Gregg | April 23, 2004 at 04:45 AM
If poets die young
Then I guess I'll die young then
Well, dang. Goshdarnit.
That actually works better as a non-haiku:
Poets die young.
I guess I'll die young then.
Dang.
Posted by: Blogchik | April 24, 2004 at 09:27 AM