lunes, 23 de febrero de 2015

2ND ANNIVERSARY OF THIS BLOG SONG

I forgot to write the anniversary post on Valentine's Day to commemorate the second anniversary of this blog. So guess I'd do it now...
WITH A MODERN MAJOR PARODY!!!

GET READY FOR THIS SONG!







This month we celebrate this lovely blog-site's anniversary,
a fête interdicted to every uncultured adversary!
Two years ago, in mid-February, on the day of Valentine,
a brisk young lass had an idea that she thought would be divine.
For, namely, she had homework on her life's first blog for English class,
and finding theme proved at first difficult so she thought off her ass...
(Pardon my French!)
Then she thought of her interest in fiction worlds and literature,
(Literature... What now?)
And soon of what her weblog would say she was no more insecure!

And soon of what her weblog would say she was no more insecure!

And soon of what her weblog would say she was no more insecure!
And soon of what her weblog would say she was no more inse-inse-insecure!

She's written about Shakespeare, about Dickens too, and Andersen,

and themes of more popular fiction, and all that she rambles then...
This month we celebrate this lovely blog-site's anniversary,
a fête interdicted to every uncultured adversary!


















There has been much talk here about the Bard of Avon's tragedies,
and one of them has even been retooled into a travesty.
Of fairytales and children's fantasy there has been a fair share,
and we have added new ingredients into age-old kidlit ware...
The fates of the Tyrells, of the Baratheons, and Lannisters,
and some talk about chemicals which we still keep in canisters...
Add frogs, theodicy, puns, and some early modern history...
(Early modern history... This one's easy!)
And the content of this blog is to newcomers no mystery!

And the content of this blog is to newcomers no mystery!

And the content of this blog is to newcomers no mystery!
And the content of this blog is to newcomers no misty misty mystery!

At first only high literature, but soon this site's broad repertoire

has spread in all directions, even Spanish titles of film noir...
This month we celebrate this lovely blog-site's anniversary,
a fête interdicted to every uncultured adversary!









We have covered the story of that proud and dark-skinned general,

who killed his darling lady wife, though she was pure, indelible.
Though we've stressed more the role of that great traitor who was catalyst,
as praised by one John Eglinton, that Shakespeare-loving analyst!
For Iago pulled the strings of every other chara's daily life,
though there was only one immune, and that was his own lady wife...
Even though I disagree that it was all for that lieutenancy...
(That lieutenancy? Come on!)
At the end of the day, all was revealed, though no one was in ecstasy!

At the end of the day, all was revealed, though no one was in ecstasy!
At the end of the day, all was revealed, though no one was in ecstasy!
At the end of the day, all was revealed, though no one was in epic ecstasy!

And the dashing young lieutenant, we'll say, happy ever after lived.

Though everyone is dead, the establishment did lastly him forgive...
This month we celebrate this lovely blog-site's anniversary,
a fête interdicted to every uncultured adversary!










In Andersen's Snow Queen, the Fourth and middle one of seven tales

has always been my favourite, another theme that here prevails.
There's this lovely clever princess who reads all the world's periodicals,
and wants to find a Mr. Right for discussions methodical.
Every suitor at the royal court was baffled and stuck in a rut,
but there came a handsome young man who was modest and up didn't shut...
In the end, Andersen says, "he was as pleased with her as she with him!"
("He was as pleased with her as she with him!" One of my favourite phrases!)
A relationship ensued, he felt with her as she at ease with him!

A relationship ensued, he felt with her as she at ease with him!

A relationship ensued, he felt with her as she at ease with him!
A relationship ensued, he felt with her as she felt pleased, at ease with him!

Though the Seventh Story tells they're travelling abroad on honeymoon,

these could be the heroes of their very own story, spun off late or soon...
This month we celebrate this lovely blog-site's anniversary,
a fête interdicted to every uncultured adversary!











This blog has also been a shrine to early modern history,
Enlightenment and Counter-Reformation have no mystery.
And there's been much talk about a great bloodshed, war that lasted thirty years
and of warlords that fought then for freedom, their deaths wept with heartfelt tears...
Like old Count Tilly, brash Pappenheim, or wealthy upstart Wallenstein,
whose eerie personality was not even second to Frankenstein!
And each sixth of November, readers are recalled to Lützen's plain...
(Lützen's plain... Remember why?)
Where hero king Gustavus of the Swedes lies among Lützen's slain!

Where hero king Gustavus of the Swedes lies among Lützen's slain!
Where hero king Gustavus of the Swedes lies among Lützen's slain!
Where hero king Gustavus of the Swedes lies among Lützen's gallant slain!

And of clever Queen Christina, and her broken mother Eleanor,
whose passionate love for her spouse was beyond death, for evermore.
This month we celebrate this lovely blog-site's anniversary,
a fête interdicted to every uncultured adversary!






In fact, having discovered the reason why old Christianity

had swept progress of empires, saying it all was profanity...
Didn't know that earthly power is such an intoxicating drug,
whose effects have scarcely changed, a mind-usurping, yet high-rating drug.
And why ever will this teal-blue planet ne'er get rid of suffering,
which hope and optimism, fortunately, serve for buffering...
For hope had also been locked by the gods within Pandora's box...
(Pandora's box? Why did she open the lid?)
She was weak and she was curious, and thus she once put before us knocks...

She was weak and she was curious, and thus she once put before us knocks...

She was weak and she was curious, and thus she once put before us knocks...
She was weak and she was curious, and thus she once put before us and to bore us knocks...

Though the magic spot where discord never entered never did exist,

there's Leipzig-born old Leibniz, showing us how we should this resist
(and that's by being optimists!)!
This month we celebrate this lovely blog-site's anniversary,
a fête interdicted to every uncultured adversary!














Last year, we made forays into the well-known realm of Westeros,
where, though the battles and intrigues, they nearly never pester us...
The Iron Throne-based Lannisters and other aristocracy,
but never do forget outsider groups or meritocracy...
When Renly died, I cried... I wept as much when Robb Stark lost his head...
But 'twas Dornishman Oberyn's painful end that filled me most with dread...
(sobbing)
On the other hand, I celebrated the whole day when Joffrey wed...
(When Joffrey wed! Shall I tell you how it happened? All right!)
He drank his wine, he choked, he reeled, he'd swallowed strychnine: JOFF WAS DEAD!

He drank his wine, he choked, he reeled, he'd swallowed strychnine: JOFF WAS DEAD!

He drank his wine, he choked, he reeled, he'd swallowed strychnine: JOFF WAS DEAD!
He drank his wine, he choked, he reeled, he'd swallowed strychnine: JOFF, THAT BLOODY TOFF, DROPPED OFF, DROPPED DEAD!

As for eunuchs: Varys still lives, Theon Greyjoy's got Stockholm syndrome.

And every single Stark child is now struggling worlds away from home.
This month we celebrate this lovely blog-site's anniversary,
a fête interdicted to every uncultured adversary!








We've covered Luna Lovegood, Ty Lee, many a hyperactive girl...
and we've been fighting for our rights, like Enjolras, truly, in this active world...
And we've talked much about loanwords, being fond of lexicology,
so the terms for ranks cover up more than half our anthology.
Wrote in Swedish, French, Spanish, German, Croatian, Hungarian,
and quoted some Valyrian as spoken by Targaryens...
There's been book reviews, and film reviews, and even some reviews of songs
(Just look at our blog!)
Though we've written some disclaimers to alert those who thought our views were wrong...

Though we've written some disclaimers to alert those who thought our views were wrong...
Though we've written some disclaimers to alert those who thought our views were wrong...
Though we've written some disclaimers to alert those who thought our views were extreme and were wrong...

For the mistress of this blog is neither Fascist nor a Communist,
and respects all religions: only zealotry has got her pissed.
This month we celebrate this lovely blog-site's anniversary,
a fête interdicted to every uncultured adversary!

















Whenever a plot bunny e'er within this tangled head was born,
it soon within these pages to an adult rabbit full was grown.
A fic, a filk, some art, a joke, a pun, a short translated piece...
had soon here come to light: so now they come in more than threes...
Ringstettens and Baratheons come in the form of feuilletons,
a legacy of those novels once published in newspaper tonnes!
As Rin and Len Kagamine, or life at the Ringstettens' hearth...
(The Ringstettens... and what more?)
Last autumn, Days of Victories... and don't forget Brienne of Tarth!

Last autumn, Days of Victories... and don't forget Brienne of Tarth!
Last autumn, Days of Victories... and don't forget Brienne of Tarth!
Last autumn, Days of Victories... and don't forget Brienne the gallant Maid of Tarth!

The Apple, Pear, and Plum was for our Spanish fans a Yuletide gift,
and now a Haft Paykar in Westeros is taking many a shift...
This month we celebrate this lovely blog-site's anniversary,
a fête interdicted to every uncultured adversary!



Now what would this blog be without a single verse of poetry?
A tiresome prose rant that would never be that good authority.
Nine Muses helped me get most of my idols on this pegasus,
starting with Count Carl Snoilsky, Englished by me myself for pleasure's fuss.
And all forgotten poets of the lovely age Victorian,
left in the shade of Dickens for the literary historian.
Remember Frederick Swinborne, the Keary sisters, Eliza Cook...
(Keep these names on your mind, dear readers!)
I recommend their verse taken from archive.org or Google Books!

I recommend their verse taken from archive.org or Google Books!
I recommend their verse taken from archive.org or Google Books!
I recommend their verse taken from archive dot org or from Google Books!

Some other Swedes, like Karin Boye or Carl Wilhelm Böttiger,
as Englished by me as sundry verses from Faust by Goethe, he!
This month we celebrate this lovely blog-site's anniversary,
a fête interdicted to every uncultured adversary!













And so it's been two years of sharing what we have to offer now,
but we've not yet exhausted the full content of out coffer now.
To quaff, to quell, to quench, to question being always on our mind,
ensuring that this effort has made this fine blog one of a kind.
Reviewing Kenneth Branagh's Cinderella, with its view of war...
while Close, and Shut, and Lock will fight the Princess Cures over and o'er...
And, as for Brienne of Evenfall, we hope Book Six is not her last...
(WE SERIOUSLY HOPE SHE LIVES THROUGH THE WINDS OF WINTER!)
For we of the Maid of Tarth's fanbase think she deserves quite long to last!

For we of the Maid of Tarth's fanbase think she deserves quite long to last!
For we of the Maid of Tarth's fanbase think she deserves quite long to last!
For we of the Maid of Tarth's fanbase think she deserves quite long, yes, decades long, to last!

Ever since two thousand thirteen, for these two years, it's undoubtable
that the fruit of our passion has become something redoubtable!
This month we celebrate this lovely blog-site's anniversary,
a fête interdicted to every uncultured adversary!


No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario