Monday, October 8, 2012
Forty Three Years Ago
October 4, 1969
Dawn creeps in through the canopy of trees and vines somewhere deep in the jungle in this place called Viet Nam.
The crackle of radio traffic interrupts the singing of the birds and the screeching of the monkeys.
“Red Queen, Red Queen this is White Rabbit. Over”
“White Rabbit this is Red Queen. Over.”
“Red Queen be advised Ell Tee (Lt.) Jefferson he has urgent traffic this location.
“White Rabbit this is Ell Tee. Over.
“Ell Tee this is Major Slick. You and your men are to leave your present position and move approximately 10,000 klicks (kilometers) south by west ASAP. You will then wait there for further orders UNODIR (Until Otherwise Directed). Do you copy?
“Major Slick this is Ell Tee. Roger, I confirm 10,000 klicks south by west. We are moving out.”
Several hours of radio silence ensures …
“Red Queen, Red Queen this is White Rabbit, over.”
(Only static on the radio.)
“Red Queen, Red Queen this is White Rabbit, over.”
(More silence .. more static)
“White Rabbit this is Doormouse, over.”
“This is White Rabbit, Doormouse, go ahead.”
“White Rabbit this is Doormouse be advised that Red Queen and his whole platoon were ambushed by Charlie. Everybody is gone, even El Tee bought the farm. I repeat, Red Queen was ambushed by Charlie and they all went west (been killed.)
“Doormouse this is White Rabbit .. "Ten Four.”
© Tim D. Culey October 4, 2012, 10-4.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
The Grade School Teacher
He was an irascible
student, talented yet bored
He wouldn’t obey and often
the teacher he mocked
Finally there was
simply too much for her to ignore
She picked up her
stick and her right arm she cocked
Intending to go forward
with a ferocious intensity
She began thinking “I’m
going to beat this little B..tard!”
Then she hesitated,
wondering “What is wrong with me?”
“Is there a chance maybe
he can’t help it, the little retard?”
She gave him crayons
and paper and put him into the corner
In desperation upon
his head she affixed the dreaded fools cap
She made a mistake, because
there was no one there to warn her
The paper turned out
to be priceless 18th century foolscap.
He scribbled and drew
merrily on this precious medium
When she realized what
she had done, she was completely aghast
She was distraught
not knowing what else she could do with
him
She said, “My
instincts were right, I should have beat his
little a..”
© Tim D. Culey -2012-
Thursday, September 27, 2012
The Bard of Avon
It appers that Wm Shakepeare predicted the 2012 political situation when he wrote Mabeth. It's amazing how he knew all those years ago.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
Mitt's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more.
His is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing. — Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28)
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
Mitt's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more.
His is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing. — Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28)
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