Thursday, 7 February 2013
People at the store in a state of giddy excitement, systematically clearing the shelves of bottled water and batteries and bagged sand, of milk and ice-melt, of whatever passes for pemmican nowadays among latter-day squaws loading the backs of station wagons -- granola bars, 85% cacao dark chocolate bars, dried apricots, dried figs, dried mangoes, bags of almonds, bags of chopped walnuts.
Everyone wants, everyone waits for, everyone is prepared to dance attendance on the storm when it finally arrives, everyone secretly loves the Weather. Sick of man-made news of mad mullahs here and abroad, the welcome mat is always out for the Weather. Because it's mostly out of our control. Because it works its will. Because no one on the talk shows, no one in the newspapers, can give you his views on what to do about the Weather. There's nothing else like it.
Brrrr. Brividi! Blizzard Conditions! White Outs!
Now please open your hymnal:
O God our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come
Our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home.
But what if all those confident predictions gang agley? What if, instead of that historic storm that has been promised, instead of that snow falling softly, softly falling, on all the living and the dead, and leaving piles of silent snow, secret snow, in the end only a disappointing dusting arrives because the storm decides in its infinite wisdom to leave these parts, and to light out for the watery territories, and to relieve itself eastwards, over the ocean, over the sea?
There will be tiime, then, for a plaintive chant:
O bring back, bring back, bring back that blizzard to me.
Posted on 02/07/2013 8:23 PM by Hugh Fitzgerald
8 Feb 2013
Dusty Rides Again
Gabriel Conroy, as in The Dead? "Disappointing dusting" as in what falls in Dusty's House of the Dead or on Minneapolis, Minnesnowda when hit by a "Siberian Express"?
And the rest is rust, rustication, Russification, and snowdust.
Don't Eat The Yellow Snow,
The Yalu River, Korea
cc Frank Zappa, Mount Snowdon, Wales
Paddy Fermor, Snowy Mount Soracte
(each above, a "drifting flake")
ps "station wagons"?
Tags: Christine O'Donnell, not a witch; just a flake, pale flurries are but a shadow of a former blizzard, VN: look on the works of Dusty, write "Despair," did Lord Snowdon retouch, or retake, Mrs. Art Longwood, that fickle flake?
8 Feb 2013
Believe me, I don't want it. It can go out to sea. Or to hell. Just not here!
8 Feb 2013
Chief Inspector Dreyfus
Scrounging for pemmican at S.S. Pierce.
Now, its successor diagonally across the street.
The 85% was recently relocated by the checkout.
I had the hardest time finding it.
8 Feb 2013
Where's The Beef Jerky?
I won't begin with a Mandarin translation of the Joycean, Finnegan pemmican again, but will observe that while "Dreyfus" rhymes with "typhus," a different species ( hat tip to Sal Monella) altogether is involved in the infectious wit of "Typhoid Mary" Jackson. A gale sturm und dig warning should be issued on account of the propensity of New England kiddies to construct unlicensed and unsafe structures which often entomb them in a icy sepulcher by the sea. I'd ask Paul Blascowicz to add a public plea to consult the wits with respect to snow of the Esquimaux, but fear that our British cousin visitors might relieve themselves in what they think is an "Ig loo."
For those across the Big Pond, will add from The Restaurant At The End of Verne, a "Don't panic." - a distinguish solar panel has determined that "Captain" Nemo will likely not darken the deutscher voltaic arrays of northern Germany given that would require a storm trek of over twenty thousand leagues to the Hanseatic.
Poe-Faced & In League With Lee,
Tags: "died of typhus in Corfu," Atlantic, Baltic, Heaseatic in league with the devil in the details of solar energy, snow castles, Lolita, First Love, sand castles, life's a beach, puttin on the Biarritz, McFate's a bitch like the Boston Big Dig or Ditch, "anarcho-tyranny," backyard fort construction winter madness, ad hoc piblokto, storage of wind and solar energy for when de wind don't blow and de sun don't shine, batteries not included, German putsch of putzes puts its panels where the sun don't shine, Dear Inspector Dreyfus, please note that a disaster price-gouging law is the anti-Semitism of socialist fools