The Marmot’s Hole

9 Comments

1. Sonagi
   Posted February 19, 2008 at 11:30 am | Permalink

   I started laughing at #30 and didn’t stop until the punchline.

2. Mr Kim
   Posted February 19, 2008 at 12:04 pm | Permalink

   Gold.

3. Dram_man
   Posted February 19, 2008 at 12:15 pm | Permalink

   The Burma Shave end is just classic.

4. dogbert
   Posted February 19, 2008 at 12:39 pm | Permalink

   That’s even funnier than the What White Folks Like shtick … 2008 is shaping up to be a good year for satire.

5. McGenghis
   Posted February 19, 2008 at 12:52 pm | Permalink

   No need to apologize to Chaucer for that. Bravo!

6. Netizen Kim
   Posted February 19, 2008 at 2:02 pm | Permalink

   It may be even funnier if you read after a long drag on your favorite bong. Just trying to be helpful.

7. nicecuppatea
   Posted February 19, 2008 at 3:09 pm | Permalink

   Poor Rowan Williams. When satire that good is getting thrown at you, you know the end is nigh.
   This is pretty funny too:
   http://www.martian.fm/canterbuh.htm
   And because I feel slightly sorry for the poor old fart, I’ll post one of his better poems in his much maligned honour:

   The sky falling - Rowan Williams
   —–

   “They [the Celtic chiefs] told him that they feared only one thing, that the sky should fall” Arrian, the Expedition of Alexander.
   —–

   A joke, perhaps? They still
   do it, solemnly meeting
   the earnest foreigner’s enquiry.
   Because there could have been,
   surely, no terror

   For the lime-rinsed and technicolour-
   shirted, head-hungry, henpecked
   louts who so irritated
   dry Caesar in the promise of an end
   so brisk and flat

   And messy, like flies squashed
   between the pages as the book
   claps shut; dying of the applause
   of heaven and earth when they
   join hands

   At the show’s end. Or maybe,
   after all, serious. Think of them
   lurching out of the doorway
   to breathe, pee, vomit,
   packed with booze

   Kebabs and mutual admiration,
   into the cold; the snow just starting
   and the sky slips gently
   and piecemeal into the grass
   and vanishes,

   Fragments of brief intricacy,
   like the bard’s lovely, hot,
   cosseting songs indoors,
   the words that freeze great doings
   (rapes, wars)

   In symmetries and stars; and going
   nowhere. The stories sink
   into the grass at night,
   and the earth sits there,
   not applauding.

   Spreading an empty palm;
   swallowing the sparks of damp
   and formal brilliance. Very
   quiet.
   No joke.

8. Wedge
   Posted February 19, 2008 at 3:16 pm | Permalink

   Iowahawk: Mere words cannot do justice to this man’s talent for slagging the deserving Left. Although this one is damned good, I still think Chutch is his finest hour:

   http://iowahawk.typepad.com/io.....s_chu.html

9. keith
   Posted February 19, 2008 at 4:37 pm | Permalink

   Very funny, Rowan Williams certainly does qualify as an arsehat. I had to study Chaucer, if it had been this entertaining it would have been a lot more fun.