pmcd
11-Apr-11, 08:59
I am the very model of a modern Caithness Orger:
With eagle eye and brain I can with easy logic augur
All the topics and the subjects on the log all multifarious,
And I can then pontificate on your submissions various.
I'm known to be a genius because I seldom falter:
In having the last word you'll find I worship at the altar
Of knowing all and thinking less and shouting at the peasant
Who dares to take me on and cross me when I wax unpleasant
(Who dares to take me on and cross me when I wax unpleasant! x 3)
I'm rarely complimentary or kind to all my readership
And all are quite subdued by my perfunctory leadership
In short, deluded hypocrites, in Caithness you're the molluscs
And I'm the righteous pedant with a brain the size of bolluscs!
It doesn't matter whether it is God or horses calling -
The Caithness Orger shouts and gives his enemies a mauling:
Who dares to cross this cynosure will pay with curses bitter,
And suffer names like "fool": "retard" - which always tend to litter
His swivel-eyed protestings at the state of our society,
(And all the wondrous nonsense we enjoy in such variety)
His red-faced opposition is amusing and hysterical
But we all know his arguments resemble objects spherical!
(But we all know his arguments resemble objects spherical! x 3)
For all his cant and "logic" and his great superiority
He stands out like a great baboon let loose in a sorority
In short his panegyrics should be labelled "Out of Order"
For he is the very model of a modern Caithness Orger!
(With apologies to William Schwenk Gilbert, who did to Victorian society what Iceland has just done to us)
With eagle eye and brain I can with easy logic augur
All the topics and the subjects on the log all multifarious,
And I can then pontificate on your submissions various.
I'm known to be a genius because I seldom falter:
In having the last word you'll find I worship at the altar
Of knowing all and thinking less and shouting at the peasant
Who dares to take me on and cross me when I wax unpleasant
(Who dares to take me on and cross me when I wax unpleasant! x 3)
I'm rarely complimentary or kind to all my readership
And all are quite subdued by my perfunctory leadership
In short, deluded hypocrites, in Caithness you're the molluscs
And I'm the righteous pedant with a brain the size of bolluscs!
It doesn't matter whether it is God or horses calling -
The Caithness Orger shouts and gives his enemies a mauling:
Who dares to cross this cynosure will pay with curses bitter,
And suffer names like "fool": "retard" - which always tend to litter
His swivel-eyed protestings at the state of our society,
(And all the wondrous nonsense we enjoy in such variety)
His red-faced opposition is amusing and hysterical
But we all know his arguments resemble objects spherical!
(But we all know his arguments resemble objects spherical! x 3)
For all his cant and "logic" and his great superiority
He stands out like a great baboon let loose in a sorority
In short his panegyrics should be labelled "Out of Order"
For he is the very model of a modern Caithness Orger!
(With apologies to William Schwenk Gilbert, who did to Victorian society what Iceland has just done to us)