HA HA HA! Oh noes! Not another blog that just posts YouTubes!!!

Thanks Sharon! I haven't heard this round in years. A wonderful soundtrack for an afternoon spent in the garden on this splendid day.

Nothin'? From here it almost looks like the brilliance of...afterglow!! ;)

I love the parody on wikipedia:

Winter is icumen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm,
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
And how the wind doth ramm!
Sing: Goddamm.
Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,
An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver,
Damm you; Sing: Goddamm.
Goddamm, Goddamm, 'tis why I am, Goddamm,
So 'gainst the winter's balm.
Sing goddamm, damm, sing goddamm,
Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMM.

Bach apparently did a parody as well. I guess you can't have a song around for 1000 years without somebody messin' with it..copyright laws last how long?????

Not that Ezra Pound's poem needs any defense (gah, what? No attribution on Wikipedia?), but I'm going to say that this sure looks like fair use to me.

I certainly wouldn't call this nothin'. Made my evening!

Here's my favourite rustic song, only slightly more modern. I heard it sung late one night on the radio by an unknown female vocalist nearly forty years ago, and it's haunted me ever since.

UNDER the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

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In similar vein:

Hebban olla vogala nestas hagunnan hinase hic
enda thu uuat unbidan uue nu.

Which is Old Dutch for 'All the birds are building their nests, except for me and you - what are we waiting for?', written by a Flemish monk in the English town of Rochester around 1100. It seems that springtime has always had an effect on the spirit.

I was in the military for four years and I still have a hard time getting up early. But now I donât have a drill sergeant turning the lights on and yelling at me either.

Here's my favourite rustic song, only slightly more modern. I heard it sung late one night on the radio by an unknown female vocalist nearly forty years ago, and it's haunted me ever since.

UNDER the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

UNDER the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

Hmm, what to do about Bunning. It has to be significant. And here's a hint--don't go on and on about how there are wonderful Republican Senators out there. It's a waste of your time at this point. If you want to say something nice, say how different that Republican is from his friends--today.

sumer

I Got Nothin'