Happy Saint Patty's Day!

"Saint, n.: A dead sinner revised and edited." -- Ambrose Bierce.

Today's Perverse Verse:

It's a sad fact but one that we secretly relish
That those whose wholesomest words and deeds we most embellish
And whom we venerate as a saint,
Ain't.
Everyone, it seems, has one skeleton in his or her closet or another,
Including that most saintly of all figures you can think of--
Your mother.
Even Mother Teresa, we now know, had her moments of doubt and misgiving,
Times when she exclaimed to herself: "This is a hell of a way to make a living!"

Relatively speaking, that is

This is the birthday of Albert Einstein, born 1879.

"I have never met a man yet who understands in the least what Einstein is driving at...I very seriously doubt that Einstein himself knows what he is driving at." -- William Henry Cardinal O'Connor.

Today's Perverse Verse:

Apparently, E=MC squared
-- Has anyone ever cared?
It may be a gas
That energy is mass
To some;
But what's Einstein to us,
Who can't tell minus from plus?
-- A bum.

Wonders of a new day

Lytton Strachey, English biographer, born on this day in 1880. He wrote:

"The horror of getting up is unparalleled, and I am filled with amazement every morning when I find that I have done it."

Today's Perverse Verse:

The dread
Of getting out of bed
Is only overshot
By the fear of not.

That's not fair, Moliere

Today is the birthday of the famous French dramatist Moliere (Jean-Baptiste Poquelin), born in 1622. He wrote:

“Man, I can assure you, is a nasty creature.”

Besides being one of the world’s great playwrights, Moliere was an actor and director of his plays. His total command of the art is probably unrivaled in history.

Moliere’s masterpiece is The Misanthrope, which was, in part, a send-up of his own unhappy marriage.

Moliere died in Paris in 1673, shortly after playing the lead in his The Imaginary Invalid. The clergy, whom he had offended throughout his career, refused him burial on holy ground. The funeral took place at night to avoid scandal; nonetheless, thousands attended a torchlight procession worthy of one of Moliere’s productions.

Today’s Perverse Verse:

No one could be such a holy terror
As Moliere.
In plays like The Misanthrope
He skewered human love and hope.
While telling people they were vile,
He had them rolling in the aisle.

Birth, Marx

Harpo Marx was born today in 1893.

"It is a far, far better thing to have a firm anchor in nonsense than to put out on the troubled seas of thought." – John Kenneth Galbraith.

Today's Perverse Verse:

I think, therefore I am, said Descartes,
But for our part,
We think that an awful lot of people with strong opinions
-- And their minions --
With their brain waves so exceedingly faint,
Ain't.

What about the meaningless absurdity of Dr. Phil?

Leo Tolstoy, the great Russian novelist (War and Peace), died on this day in 1910. Near the end of his life he wrote:

"The meaningless absurdity of life is the only incontestable knowledge accessible to man."

Today's Perverse Verse:

If you think life's absurd,
You may not have heard
There's another one waiting,
Even more excruciating.
If you long for -- at long last -- death,
Save your breath.

To read about Tolstoy on death, visit farewells.blogspot.com.

Join the club

Lincoln delivered his Gettysburg Address on this day in 1863.

"Democracy means simply the bludgeoning of the people, by the people, for the people." -- Oscar Wilde.

Today's Perverse Verse:

If you're so annoyingly cocky
To think that I and you are equals,
Then you must think that Jaws and Rocky
Are no better than their sequels.

Read about Lincoln's Gettysburg Address at farewells.blogspot.com.

Today is International Day for Tolerance

"Tolerance is only another name for indifference." – W. Somerset Maugham

"Tolerance is the virtue of the man without convictions." – G. K. Chesterton.

Today's Perverse Verse:

Even tho I hate you,
I can tolerate you,
At least for today--
But then -- go away!

Today is I Love To Write Day!

"Everybody is writing, writing, writing–worst of all, writing poetry. It'd be better if the whole tribe of scribblers—every damn one of us—were sent off somewhere with tool chests to do some honest work." – Walt Whitman.


"It is the glory and the merit of some men to write well, and of others not to write at all." – La Bruyere.

Today's Perverse Verse:

The proliferation of The Blog
Leaves one agog.
From Chicago to Prague,
Like some noxious fog,
It hangs heavy as smog.
It's a World Wide bog,
Through which one can slog
Like a drunken hog,
Until you cry out: Aaaggh!