Huh. I had no idea

that Jim Dale wrote the lyrics to "Georgy Girl." (Here)

Anglo-Saxon Alamo

I am re-reading John Myers Myers' Silverlock (I'll do a complete report on it when I do my monthly book list) but just wanted to say that I was totally charmed by the account of the death of James Bowie at the Alamo done in Anglo-Saxon blank verse, which includes, in part:

Gathered the garrison, gave them his orders:
"Houston the Raven is raising a host;
Time's what he asks while he tempers an army.
Never give up this gate to our land.
Hold this door fast, though death comes against us."
. . .
Bold thanes were with him, thirsty for honor,
Schooled well in battle and skilled in all weapons;
Avid for slaughter there, each against thirty,
They stood to the walls and struck for their chieftains,
Houston and Bowie, the bearcat of heroes.
. . .
at last some found him,
Fettered to bed by the fever and dying,
. . . Gladly they rushed him, but glee became panic.
Up from the grip of the grave, gripping weapons,
Gizzardbane rose to wreak his last slaughter,
Killing, though killed. Conquered, he won.
. . .
In brief is the death lay of Bowie, the leader
Who laid down his life for his lord and ring giver,
Holding the doorway for Houston the Raven,
Pearl among princes, who paid in the sequel:
Never was vassal avenged with more slayings!



-- from "The Ballad of Bowie Gizzardbane"



I wonder what the heck Tolkien would have made of it. My hunch is that he might have admired it. It is certainly in keeping with one of the great themes of Anglo-Saxon poetry, the berserker courage of men facing a hopeless end (the sort of spirit he tried to evoke with the story of King Theoden choosing to ride out of Helm's Deep).

Strange to structurally compare the legend of the end of the Alamo, and the myth of Raganok. Anglo-Saxon scops would have recognized it as the same story.

Eating a chocolate-flavored coffee bean

When I put it into my mouth, the first perception is shape alone: it is perfectly smooth, hard and tasteless. But as I roll it around my tongue, the surface warms, softens, and sweetens, and I taste the dark chocolate, at first merely covering the oval shape, but now sliding off and dissolving into my mouth.

I bite down. My teeth effortlessly close through the surface of softening chocolate to the hard brittleness within, which I quickly crush noisily into grit. The chocolate flavor instantly changes, adding the darker notes of coffee. The crunchy bits catch in my teeth, mixing with the melting chocolate as I chew, and then the noise quiets as the chocolate melts and eventually disappears, leaving only the grit behind, which my chewing grinds to finer and finer powder. I swallow, and the taste slowly softens and then dissapates, as I pick out the last few bits of coffee bean still caught in my teeth.

Status report

The taxes may actually be done. I need to read them over, and then we can get them in the mail. The feds owe us a refund, but we have to pay into the state, so it's pretty much a wash.

Latest word is I'm going to be without my main computer for anything from three more days to a week. No e-mail until I get it back.