vision2020
RE: Topless Gratitude
Doggone this is funny...
ROTFL
Greg Dickinson, I dont think they got it.
Cheers!
John Harrell
--- Tom Hansen <thansen@moscow.com> wrote:
> For those of you who received gibberish when I posted Sylvia Plath's
> "Daddy", you can read the poem by followint the link below.
>
> http://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/daddy.html
>
> Take care,
>
> Tom Hansen
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Gregory Dickison [mailto:gdickison@moscow.com]
> Sent: Friday, June 28, 2002 12:36 PM
> To: vision2020@moscow.com
> Subject: Re: Topless Gratitude
>
>
> Tom:
>
> Thank you for trying to post the poem Auntie E. referred to, but all that
> came through was gibberish (see below). Where can we find a copy of the real
> poem?
>
> Gregory C. Dickison
> Lawyer & Counselor at Law
> Post Office Box 8846
> 312 South Main Street
> Moscow, Idaho 83843
> (208) 882-4009
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "Tom Hansen" <thansen@moscow.com>
> To: "Joan Opyr" <auntiestablishment@hotmail.com>; <vision2020@moscow.com>
> Sent: Friday, June 28, 2002 12:06 PM
> Subject: RE: Topless Gratitude
>
>
> > Greetings Visionaires -
> >
> > Vary well said and a big touche' to Ms Opyr.
> >
> > To Mr Wilson: Your malicious attempt at sarcasm (without a valid point I
> > might add) could have been at least funny. For everybody's info I have
> > posted Sylvia Plath's "Daddy" below.
> >
> > Daddy
> >
> > You do not do, you do not do
> > Any more, black shoe
> > In which I have lived like a foot
> > For thirty years, poor and white,
> > Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
> >
> > Daddy, I have had to kill you.
> > You died before I had time---
> > Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
> > Ghastly statue with one gray toe
> > Big as a Frisco seal
> >
> > And a head in the freakish Atlantic
> > Where it pours bean green over blue
> > In the waters off the beautiful Nauset.
> > I used to pray to recover you.
> > Ach, du.
> >
> > In the German tongue, in the Polish town
> > Scraped flat by the roller
> > Of wars, wars, wars.
> > But the name of the town is common.
> > My Polack friend
> >
> > Says there are a dozen or two.
> > So I never could tell where you
> > Put your foot, your root,
> > I never could talk to you.
> > The tongue stuck in my jaw.
> >
> > It stuck in a barb wire snare.
> > Ich, ich, ich, ich,
> > I could hardly speak.
> > I thought every German was you.
> > And the language obscene
> >
> > An engine, an engine,
> > Chuffing me off like a Jew.
> > A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
> > I began to talk like a Jew.
> > I think I may well be a Jew.
> >
> > The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
> > Are not very pure or true.
> > With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck
> > And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
> > I may be a bit of a Jew.
> >
> > I have always been sacred of you,
> > With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
> > And your neat mustache
> > And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
> > Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You----
> >
> > Not God but a swastika
> > So black no sky could squeak through.
> > Every woman adores a Fascist,
> > The boot in the face, the brute
> > Brute heart of a brute like you.
> >
> > You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
> > In the picture I have of you,
> > A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
> > But no less a devil for that, no not
> > Any less the black man who
> >
> > Bit my pretty red heart in two.
> > I was ten when they buried you.
> > At twenty I tried to die
> > And get back, back, back to you.
> > I thought even the bones would do.
> >
> > But they pulled me out of the sack,
> > And they stuck me together with glue.
> > And then I knew what to do.
> > I made a model of you,
> > A man in black with a Meinkampf look
> >
> > And a love of the rack and the screw.
> > And I said I do, I do.
> > So daddy, I'm finally through.
> > The black telephone's off at the root,
> > The voices just can't worm through.
> >
> > If I've killed one man, I've killed two---
> > The vampire who said he was you
> > And drank my blood for a year,
> > Seven years, if you want to know.
> > Daddy, you can lie back now.
> >
> > There's a stake in your fat black heart
> > And the villagers never liked you.
> > They are dancing and stamping on you.
> > They always knew it was you.
> > Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.
> >
> > Although the analogy may be a bit over-extended, it gets the point across.
> > Thank you, Ms Opyr.
> >
> > Take care,
> >
> > Tom Hansen
> >
> > ***********************************
> > Work like you don't need the money.
> > Love like you've never been hurt.
> > Dance like nobody's watching.
> >
> > - Author Unknown
> > ***********************************
> >
> >
> > -----Original Message-----
> > From: Joan Opyr [mailto:auntiestablishment@hotmail.com]
> > Sent: Friday, June 28, 2002 11:26 AM
> > To: vision2020@moscow.com
> > Subject: Re: Topless Gratitude
> >
> >
> >
> > Nate Wilson wrote:
> > >For years we have been trying to convince the women of the
> > >Palouse to resubmit themselves to a primitive male-dominated society.
> > >And here, finally, we have the first stages initiated voluntarily by
> > >Dasiy. As a sign of our gratitude the CPP would like to pay for lip
> > >plates and neckrings at the Falling Moon for Daisy and any other women
> > >who have submitted themselves to us in this way. In addition Daisy has
> > >also been chosen to be the first among many to bear children to the new
> > >chieftan.
> > > We are extremely grateful and hope by next summer to have them
> > >beating our laundry on the rocks down by the river
> >
> > Every woman loves a fascist? Sorry, Nate, but Sylvia Plath beat you to
> this
> >
> > one four decades ago. I refer you to her poem, "Daddy." You might find
> it
> > interesting in more ways than one.
> >
> > Ach, du,
> > Auntie Establishment
> >
> > _________________________________________________________________
> > MSN Photos is the easiest way to share and print your photos:
> > http://photos.msn.com/support/worldwide.aspx
> >
>
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