Moby Rises from the Void

Enter ye in at the strait gate:
for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction,
and many there be which go in thereat:

Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life,
and few there be that find it.

[from: The collected poetic works of Jesus C.]


These Young Folks Today

RCA doggie

I tell you all they do is text on their Walkman transistors
and spin platters on their jukeboxes.
Why in tarnation do they need those newfangled victrolas
with the dag-gone puppy dog a-sittin’ there
listnin’ to the telegraph?

Today’s youngsters are neither responsible nor ready for adulthood. Why, all they ever do is download that devilish syncopated ragtime boogie-woogie into their damn touch-tone telephones. You think the Good Lord meant for them to live like this? Doing the Twist all night long? Flapping their wicked pearls to the “Charleston” and smoking pipes with Brylcreem in their hair as they tap out racy messages in Morse Code to savage heathen peoples in the jungle-land? Why some of them have no shame at all, I say. They display their brazen midriffs and tempt the young men when they go a-courtin’ in the kitchen parlour. Yes sir – these young folks are in need of a good old-fashioned hiding.
With a thresher’s flail, yesirree-Bob…

My granny Jehoshaphat would have taken me to the woodshed for FAR LESS than that .   Now you kids put that cat down and pull up your pants RIGHT NOW or I’ve half a mind to call the constable.