Scotland, specifically Edinburgh during the Fringe, is an inspiring place full of ideas and concepts, and not a few conceits. We saw things to make us wince, to stop the breath, to trigger tears and lots and lots of laughter. We also saw things that struggle to reach average and the occasional total bomb. But I don’t much care for the dross I caught because the upside more than outweighs the down.
Thus I found myself inspired once again to utterly and completely ruin one of the Nation’s favourite poems. The Jabberwock.
‘Twas brillig and the slithy toves
Did what Toves do, on wet Tuesdays
When men in spats were all ‘By Joves’
And lost their hats in various ways.
The rabbit tapped his watch and spat
‘Oh come on Charles, she’ll have a fit.’
‘She hates nonsense.’ He caught a hat
And ate the brim. ‘Now just you sit’
‘And write a verse about this cat’
‘Something deep that’ll stir her soul.’
‘Not talking shellfish and other crap’
‘Unless you’re happy in this rabbit hole.’
The pensmith sighed: ‘I’ve tried my best’
‘But with her there always is a catch.’
‘She wants her tea, with lemon zest’
‘And deep fried loin of bandersnatch.’
He tweedled his Dum and diddled his Dee
‘How can I cook with no utensils.’
‘I’ve no skills in the kitchen, you see.’
‘The only tools I use are pencils.’
The rabbit chopped a homburg in three
‘Just add this with a pinch of stock
‘Then make a fire from the Tumtum tree’
‘And cook the lot in your jabber-wok.’
And rabbit said as they left for home
Passing back through the looking glass
‘If you ever write me back there again
This vorpal blade’ll go right up your…’
I’ll end with a great mind – David Hume.
Now, I’m a man who thinks a fair bit about absurdities so, anyone, why are his toes so polished? Is this a Scottish thing? Or a philosophical thing? Or just a thing?
Perhaps people give his toes a pat? There was a bronze otter statue around here whose head was like gold because everyone who visited patted it.
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Yes, I think that’s so But does Edinburgh have a civic toe fetish?
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Wouldn’t put anything past them 🙂
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This little piggy!
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I’ve seen this in other places, so it’s not just a scottish thing – though a specific scottish thing is Greyfriars Bobby whose nose is rubbed so much it gets damaged.
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Like wellingtons cone hat in Glasgow?
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That’s definitely a Thing!
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This was brill His Geoffleship!
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Frabjous?
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Most definitely!
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Good fun, Geoff
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So funny, Hume’s toes caught my eye, too 🙂
By the way, your book, Apprenticed to My Mother, arrived in the mail yesterday. Look forward to reading.
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Oooo grand…
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Yes, I think they play with his toes – must be a Scottish thing……. There’s a statue, somewhere in the nether reaches of Austria my memory says, though it may have been Italy – who is said to be helpful for infertility. He has a rather interesting burnished area. And to the poem, I thought your version an improvement on the original. You’re welcome!
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Ah, now my central and Southern European bucket list just grew. And thank you about the poem. I’m waiting on the Archaeologist. I fear a severe wigging…
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And hast thou slain our sensibilities?
Flee from my feed, my pun-nish friend.
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Thanks for the follow 🙂
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thought i’d done it before!
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Geoffle, I’m not sure what to make of people rubbing toes. I’m sure we have nothing of the sort here in Australia. That must be why they play cricket.
Best wishes,
Ro
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Yes that can be the only reason
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