It appears that some folks here really like a good old rant. I understand that, being a great respecter of the cathartic power of a good old rant myself. It just appears that some of our ranters need a bit of corralling if they’re not to deafen others trying to have a quieter discussion.
So, to keep people busy over a winter weekend, this is an invitation to readers to offer up a rant. However, this is not Rant Club where anything goes. This is Rantledon, and there are rules and a code of etiquette, and everyone watching has an opinion on your serve. Queensbury Rules of Stoush, if you like.
The Rules are as follows:
- There is a length limit. 250 words. Below is what 250 words looks like:
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Aliquam turpis. Donec lacus urna, aliquam id, ornare eget, malesuada eget, neque. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum aliquam erat ut diam. Duis porttitor nulla at ipsum. Aliquam venenatis velit ut odio sollicitudin imperdiet. Duis dolor elit, tincidunt non, pulvinar vitae, aliquet ut, tortor. Suspendisse semper porta eros. Nulla a nisi. Aenean et est eget augue interdum porttitor.
Duis gravida, nibh eget rhoncus viverra, libero libero fringilla libero, nec cursus massa urna sit amet dui. Praesent ut velit ut risus ornare sodales. Phasellus lobortis semper neque. Etiam tempor ligula tincidunt diam. Nulla facilisi. Donec non massa at ante porttitor tempus. Aenean vel eros. Curabitur lectus. Aliquam erat volutpat. Proin nibh diam, accumsan sed, mattis in, egestas non, leo. Vestibulum tincidunt, sapien id fringilla iaculis, ipsum metus hendrerit velit, ac varius purus magna vel lacus. Vestibulum in nunc. Donec tempus feugiat sem.
Quisque non sapien eget eros rhoncus euismod. Donec justo. Nulla facilisi. Etiam consectetuer. Praesent adipiscing porttitor urna. Duis interdum. Sed ac urna ut ante facilisis convallis. Proin rutrum pretium mauris. Phasellus eget sem accumsan turpis rhoncus luctus. Aenean at pede id mauris lobortis aliquet. Curabitur facilisis sapien sed leo. Aenean facilisis neque ut ipsum. Nunc iaculis. Proin eleifend ante non lectus.
Mauris at ipsum quis turpis dictum rutrum. Aenean eget tortor id massa vestibulum pretium. Nam et dolor. In at erat. Mauris elit neque, fringilla quis, rhoncus sit amet, hendrerit vel, sapien. Nulla.
There are online word counter tools you can use to check your word count. Here’s one.
- Rant on anything so long as you avoid potentially defamatory statements or mere abuse or snide insinuation. Be substantive or satirical as you prefer, but don’t be an arsehat, because I decline to publish arsehat rants, and will delete without mercy.
- Contra-rants are actively solicited.
- Please only post a subsequent rant once there has been at least two more rants posted after yours, so that we don’t have just one voice dominating the thread. (use any waiting time to polish your rant till it glows)
- Non-ranters may respond to rants, but keep it pithy. Witty one or two one-liners are encouraged. Give the current rants on the thread points out of 10, why not? Offer some short substantive criticism even. Just don’t be an arsehat (unless it’s to challenge someone’s 263-word rant).
- Do not abuse any other participant on LP in your rant.
- These rules will be strictly enforced by the Moderator From Hell i.e. me - contravening rants will be deleted.
- If you find that you simply can’t bear to cut down a 400 word (or longer) masterpiece, post it on your own blog and post the link here. If you have read a memorable rant elsewhere, please do the same. (NB if you post more than two links in a comment, it will go straight to the automoderation queue)
People who like their threads unpolluted by off-topic rants may avoid this thread like the plague. People who post off-topic rants in other threads can be told to bring it here instead.
Unlike the Condemn threads, this thread is not meant to be just light-hearted fun, although hyperbolic rants on the trivia of life are more than welcome for the sake of demonstrating bravura rhetorical flourish just because you can. Parodies along the lines of the Rintles from Rantledon Common and The Curmudgeonly Adventures of Uncle Vulgaria may also be offered up (in fact, I will be most disappointed in the LarvyProdder zeitgeist if they are not), just stick to the same 250 word limit.
Rant on!
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MODERATOR NOTE: 659 words contravenes the rules of Rantledon. Read the rules more closely and try again.
I fully expect that many people won’t see this until tomorrow, and most of the rest of you will probably only see it on your way out somewhere or just before you’re getting dinner ready. No worries - let your rant stew up over a night or a day or even two until it’s exactly how you’d like it to be.
Sorry, I just looked at the picture.
I will work on it and get back to you.
Victoria, that pristine righteous state, that other Eden; set near a jewelled sea, born of honest toil and gold digging and pastoral idylls; that St Petersburg with a provincial gallery we call “National”; that state of bliss and Protestant ethic, has been beset by nefarious gunmen and drug barons; they Mokbel here they Williams there; they Gatto a pizza place and Gatt off. And now our queen of cops is caught out it seems by a dodgy advisor Kerry M; and it pains a citizen to think that this chap might be the same Kerry M who accompanied Lionel Murphy as advisor on the Night of the Long Raid at ASIO in Melbourne in 1973, thereby sullying the Gov and the Gough; and the traditional question “where is he now?” has seemingly been answered of Kerry M: he has been keeping warm by making trouble, the pet. Anyone for tennis?
*makes popcorn*
*pours glass of red*
First, many thanks, Mark, for publishing my rants, and thanks to those who read them..
“Peak Oilers” have been getting a good run in the media today.
The peak oiler tactics are much like those the realclimate gang use.
Doom and gloom sums it up.
It is supported by “Big Money”
“Peak Oil supporters include billionaire hedge-fund manager Boone Pickens and Houston investment banker Matthew Simmons.”
http://www.energybulletin.net/40383.html
Reserves are usually proven up to the level that is enough to satisfy the financial backers of the project.
They have little to do with actual recoverable hydrocarbon available.
Reserve numbers are, at best, very rubbery figures.
For example,
Iraq has “… as much as 350 billion barrels. The figure is triple the country’s present proven reserves and exceeds that of Saudi Arabia’s estimated 264 billion barrels of oil.”
http://business.timesonline.co.uk/tol/business/industry_sectors/natural_resources/article3964957.ece
From where I stand, the money is going to run out long before the oil ever does.
Re the cost of oil production, the major expense is seismic exploration.
The costs in this field have been reduced dramatically with the advent of cheap number crunching.
Exploration costs have been reduced from around $16/bbl to $4/bbl.
Tar sands and shales also hold enormous liquid hydrocarbon reserves.
It is estimated that Canada alone has around 300 billion barrels of recoverable oil, currently being produced for about $24/barrel.
I know it’s not a rant, or anything approaching a rant, but can I just say I love the angry poodle? Even better, it looks like a mini poodle - ie the variety that bark like the Bee Gees. Classic and gold.
Can I nominate Legal Eagle’s rant about the joys of sessional academic work while heavily preggers? I think it’s good value: http://skepticlawyer.com.au/2008/06/servant-to-the-masses/
[text deleted by moderator]
Moderator note: 308 words - try again! ~tigtog
It started as a crush.
You were with one of my friends, all shiny and white, with interesting curves and always ready for a good time.
Eventually I had to have you. Now after almost four years it’s over. You’ve crashed now for the last time. So many times now I’ve been able to bring you back from the brink. This time, this time there was no coming back.
I’m realizing now that I had gradually stopped appreciating all that you did for me. Lately, I’ve been flirting with the newer younger things. They are all very pretty, and from a distance they always seemed to offer more. Smoother curves, very responsive to the touch…
But thing thing is, you were the one that was always by my side and, ultimately, that’s what was important so while my eyes would wander I never strayed for long.
Well, now it’s done and I’m all alone. It was never going to be forever, but I really wished we could have had just a few more months together.
Goodbye 4g iPod, now it’s finally over you’ve left a gaping hole in my life. You were my first Apple product and I’ll always remember you…
SCENE: Any Australian group blog.
POST BY ERMINTRUDE: X and Y. Also, A and B, because of C and possibly also D (see *link*). Therefore, Z.
COMMENT #1 by TOM: Nice post, Bradley.
COMMENT #2 by DICK: Bullshit, Tom, it was a crap post. Anyway, I want to talk about E and F.
*Talks about E and F at some length*
COMMENT #3 by HARRY: Not E and F! Not E and F! Also, you haven’t done the reading.
COMMENT #4 by JESSAMINE: Excellent post, Ermintrude, but have you thought about G and H, and their possible effects on Z?
Also, Dick and Harry, I have some direct, specific questions about E and F.
*Asks Dick and Harry some direct, specific questions about E and F*
COMMENT #5 by DICK: I have too done the reading — look at *link* and *link*.
COMMENT #6 by HARRY: Links don’t work!
COMMENT #7 by TOM: Have you seen what that asshat Bl*ir said this morning?
Etc.
[text deleted by moderator]
Moderator note: 402 words contravenes the rules of Rantledon.
Come on people, I’ve given you the link to the word counter, and I am checking.
Try again ~tigtog
Skepticlawyer #7,
I’m glad you like the poodle, although I prefer to think of it as Eeeeevul rather than just Angry. LE’s rant is excellent.
Pavlov’s Cat #10,
so sadly totally true.
On things merchandised without being tested by humans:
Such as my new bicycle which has pedals long enough to hit the ground if you even slightly tilt going slowly and cautiously around corners, as I do.
On my toaster which has a lever to lift the toast a whole centimeter higher, which is still not high enough to get it out (without using the fatal knife).
Not to mention my Toyota Corolla which has a nasty little, slightly protruding, lever under the seat for moving it back and forwards. And seems designed to catch the cuff of your trousers as you get out and send you sprawling onto the ground with torn cuff. You can’t bash it in with a hammer, or twist it back in with a wrench, you can’t stuff 5 old socks over the end of it, tied with a ribbon, because like all socks not actually on your feet, they de-materialise, vanish. No, you can only dress like an 18 year old spiv in cuffless trousers …..
Has anybody mastered their washing machine (some buttons do nothing, others do unpredictable things, but I’ve never got it to wash clothes in less than 180 thumping minutes), There we are helpless in front of the car radio, combined photocopier/scanner/printer/fax/ …
Even packaging, which once offered only the challenge of finding the last pin in the new shirt, now defies the kitchen shears: batteries, razor blades - the packaging is more robust than the contents!
I agree with X myself, though I’m not so sure about Y. Or, come to think of it, C.
I’m not too sure what the reading this in all of this, but this looks like an interesting film version.
Russell #13, exquisite precision on the word count there!
*Applause*
Mine’s on Israel:
http://kevin79.wordpress.com/2008/06/26/fighting-tha-good-fight/
“I’m sure we’ve all seen the tragic photos of Polish cavalrymen with lances and sabres charging German tanks in a horrendous mismatch of firepower.”
Where? Where have you seen that, arsehole?
Who published these photos? From which battlefield? You don’t know, do you?, smug Teaching Company history lecturing dude. To think I wasted valuable
bandwidthmoney on your lecture series when I could have shoved my head in a combine harvester and avoided such inanities.The answer is they don’t exist. Because the Kawaleria Polska weren’t Napoleonic bloody dragoons and never fucking charged a tank.
If you knew anything about the Invasion of Poland you’d know they were a modern mobile infantry formation with organic armor, artillery and anti-tank weaponry, and the myth of the Panzer-tilt was fabricated by an embedded Italian reporter after the battle of Krojanty.
I know you’re a social historian, replete with insights into Weimar Germany and Nazi electioneering; all the more reason to tread carefully when you do talk about military history and not just repeat crusty old furphies like ‘LOL Polish Cavalry!! PWND!’. Given your brilliant dissection of Nazi propanganda it’s all the more ironic: the only photos of Polish cavalry charging tanks are stills from a German propaganda reel ‘Geschwader Lutzow’.
I’m so sick of 4wd’s infesting eastern Sydney. Gas guzzling power trips on wheels. Inhabited by aggressive middle aged women forcing their way through traffic on the way to the shops, the hairdresser, or the school. Or aggressive middle aged men in full mid life crisis using them as a metaphor in a struggle to gain some relevancy in their lives.
I’ll be so glad when petrol reaches $3 a litre or something stupid so these nutters will have to find another way to express themselves to their fellow human beings.
Silly tig tog!
LP posters don’t rant, they embark on considered discursive practice.
They wouldn’t rant about Geoff Dixon, the man now personally trying to shaft Qantas workers, for example.
They know, after failing to shaft shareholders and workers in their tens of thousands under cover of commercial darkness via an ignominiously failed hedge fund takeover for immense personal gain last year, that Geoff would not think of repeating his pattern of dishonesty with workers currently. They know there is no such thing as a media commentary blackout concerning this issue; “that scarce dare speak its own name”, anymore than concerning electricity privatisation, Murray-Darling irrigators or Tasmanian forestry vandalism or the reality of IR “Reforms”.
Nor they would rant on the collusion of Government and Opposition on a tax rort at the expense of the environment and agricultural productivity, outlined by Alan Ramsey in the SMH just out, against the objections of a dozen senators; Greens, Democrats, Joyce, Heffernan; independent enough to still be able to think for themselves.
Thet certainly would not be upset at the absence of that heroine of the left and passionate environmentalist Penny Wong from this list, or the silence of that little lambkin Garret.
Bloggers.
Heaven forbid they’d have enough blood in their veins to feel any thing about anything!
I’m not sure what it is about Her Majesty’s Government, but they do seem to have an obsession with surveillance. Perhaps it is a common trait among members of the House that the conservatives like to wear tights and be whipped, and Labour like to watch. But it seems passing strange to me that even when they are announcing a Good Thing - such as a program to prevent deforestation in former French colonies, Her Majesty’s Government must support the policy with an extension of their bizarre surveillance fetishes. In this instance, they are to launch cameras into space. Can’t they just hang a few illegal foresters and be done with it? That’s what we would have done in my day, none of this poking about in people’s underwear drawers to find out if they’re hiding a woodchip or two. Damned peculiar behaviour, I do say!
Bleah, mispellings, and incoherent jokes about the alphabet are all part of the package when you make a blog comment late at night.
“In the beginning was the word”
The entire universe is born of a rant.
The beat generation showed that the rant can be a lifeline, a connection to ourselves and each other as we float aimlessly in the stormy seas of alientaion and powerlessness.
A rant cannot be contained, regulated, packaged, word limited, pre-configured, voluntarily submitted to censorship, commodified for advertising purposes. Such things are not rants but market feedback, an interactivity between producers and consumers.
The rant is free, spiritually, politically and economically.
The rant is no more an art or a style or a technique than giving birth is, both are amongst the essence of life, both have there own timing, duration and outcomes, unique in every situation.
An invitation to rant such as is presented here is like an invitation to a theme party, or a a punk revival party with the appropriate fashion and accessories, disguising the very essence of conformity and regurgitation that punk fought so hard to destroy. The punk theme party goer flippantly commemorates or ridicules punk but never ever perceives or embodies anything of the spirit of punk.
No, the rant does not live on this thread. The rant lives where it wants to live; not in the box marked “rant” but in the endless horizons of the universe that is born of the rant itself.
Free the rant! break free from the chains of this restrictive thread.
That was rantastic!
rant you
Bloody channel-dredging, public transport-ruining Victorian Labor are at it again in the Gippsland byelection. Or more specifically, Bloody Stephen Newnham, State secretary and campaign director for the party. Andrew Landeryou thinks he’s terriffc, which should tell you something.
In our own local byelection in 2007, we got four. bloody. letters. per adult person from Labor at our house - one each, so that’s eight - “from” the premier John Brumby, but authorisedintinylittlelettersatthebottom from S. Newnham of 360 King Street. Four each! Talk about overkill. Of course,
taxpayersthey can afford it, because of not spending it on public transport and other services. Barista also received a letter from these tree-killers purporting to be from a “concerned citizen”, Sue Loukomitis, claiming that the Greens want to “close down” MacRobertson High school, a selective secondary school nearby. Strangely enough, that was also authorisedintinylittlelettersatthebottom by S. Newnham, also of 360 King St. West Melbourne.This guy also built a website which is classic astroturf, Greens-Liberal-deal.com.au, which was all acid green and black with yoof-full looking graphics, but was cooked up by Newnham himself. It was linked to the batshit crazy greenswatch.com.
After all that unmitigated lying bastardry directed at the Greens, this time around, when the Greens decided they wouldn’t direct all their preferences to Labor, this S.Newnham described it as “an act of treachery”.
That’s chutzpah, folks.
This is almost certainly defamatory but the good people of Portal of Evil, News Division have some choice words for David Addington here.
Bull crap.
You can rant in a box. You can rant in a sealed bag. You can rant while nailed to a cross. You can also rant while confined in a padded cell. Indeed, some of the most sustained and voluble rants happen in padded cells.
The ranter rants regardless of setting or of circumstance. The rant is the favoured mode of communication of the powerless, of the impotent, of the self-conscious victim.
It could be argued that the rant requires powerlessness. Powerlessness energises the rant.
Who ever heard of a ranting pope, a ranting emperor, at least while they continued to exercise authority? Look at King Lear. When did he start ranting? When he was a practising king? While he was losing his kingliness? Of course not, stupid!
If you really want to rant, lose a life!
Re#19, even sillier me. Along the lines of Helen’s protest at the Port Phillip Bay command economy idiocy, thoughtful Tig Tog presents an elegantly crafted little cameo, at the “Dorrigo doctors” thread, that eventuates as paradigmatic at microcosm of all that is wrong our society; a society that increasingly masquerades as an oafish drunk with two left feet.
What Kafkaesque bureaucracy exhausts itself in the dreaming up of endless Byzantine excuses for inactivity when lives are at stake, when a simple stroke of a pen from the top could have things set to rights such a veritable eon ago?
I am utterly sick to death of fatuous morons who think that because Peter Garrett was a rock star who purported to care about the environment, he would obviously make a fabulous environment minister, despite growing mounds of evidence to the glaring contrary. Apparently the more he approves insanely destructive and economically unviable projects like the Gunns pulp mill and the dredging of port phillip, the more it shows he knows how to make the system work.
I am gobsmacked by the earth-shattering silence as Garrett proceeds to completely destroy the prospects of us ever seeing a $2 billion+ investment in the environment ever again, as he makes Caring for our Country the single biggest retrograde step in national environmental policy since -I don’t know what to even compare it to. He has removed every aspect of strategic landscape planning and implementation that he can get his hands on as quickly as possible, putting in place a series of open scattershot grants that fragment both the on-ground and administrative approach to environmental management. He has released money without even giving his department time to specify the particular outcomes sought. It stinks of the worst pandering to particular interest groups.
It appalls me that I, a Green, must point out that the Howard Government’s Natural Heritage Trust was vastly superior environmental policy to Mr ex-ACF’s arrogant and shallow understanding of how to invest to protect, restore and prepare this country’s incredible natural heritage, and now in the face of climate change.
Tigtog, I think myriad (#28) might be deserving of a more expansive post (or at least release from the 250 word limit)
I for one, would like to know more.
It is indeed a fine rant full of provoking points. I don’t really want to rescind the limit for this particular thread, but I too would like to know more. Myriad could perhaps expand a little more substantively on the Saturday Salon thread? It’s a good idea not to make comments too long there either, but leeway can be given for information on a substantive matter.
The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist.
Why was Karl Marx eliminated as a suspect in the Whitechapel murders?
[rest of rant deleted as came to 254 words - the above only left in place to give context to subsequent comments ~tigtog]
Why was Karl Marx eliminated as a suspect in the Whitechapel murders?
Karl Marx died in 1883, while the murders occurred after 1888. But a good theory none the less.
P’s C 10/10
huzzahs
The phrasal verb
Is most absurd -
To come through on a promise
Is to stand by your word.
If you stand someone up
You’ve let them down,
If you lead them on
They’ll follow you round.
And when your tall tales
Wear a bit thin,
If they catch you out
They’ll do you in.
If you go under
You have to start over,
They’ll sell you down
‘Til they wind you up.
If you brush them off
They’ll stick to your tail,
If you start up a fight
You’ll end up in gaol.
So you have to look up
What you once wrote down;
To stay in the game
You must get out of town.
If you work too hard
For not enough pay,
When you come to your senses
You’ll soon go away.
When the boss hands out trouble
Don’t get pushed around:
To stand up to someone
You first sit them down.
When they face the facts
They’ll soon back away,
So knock down the resistance
To build up your pay.
Stay low to the ground
‘Til you’re flying high,
Live each day like your last
And never say die.
While all around
Might snort and scoff,
If you carry on
You might just bring it off.
If you don’t play right
You’ll be left on the shelf
So hang on to your dreams
And wake up to yourself!
sure, I’ll post more. see you in the salon thread. thanks for the interest.
Professor Rat, you disappoint me. If you were only ever going to have on opportunity in life to sign yourself Professor Rant, surely this was it.
Mercurius: awesome.
…one opportunity
*rolls eyes*
Typos. Don’t get me started on typos.
*mutter*
The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist.
Why was Karl Marx eliminated as a suspect in the Whitechapel murders?
In Marx’s personal life, violence was never far from the surface. He was verbally abusive, and arguments were common within his family. According to an Encyclopedia Britannica account on Marx, his father even expressed fears that Jenny von Westphalen was “destined to become a sacrifice to the demon that possessed his son.”
The misogynist Marx To Engels,1862: “Every day my wife says she wishes she and the children were safely in their graves, and I really cannot blame her, for the humiliations, torments and alarums that one has to go through in such a situation are indeed indescribable…’
Misogynist Marx to Antoinette Philips, 1861: “This young lady, who instantly overwhelmed me with her kindness, is the ugliest creature I have seen in my entire life, with repulsive Jewish facial features.”
Marx to Engels: “If a negotiation I have initiated with Lassalle succeeds, and he lends me £30, and you lend me the remainder, I would at last be independent again and reorganise all my domestic arrangements, whereas at present I have to pay out 25 per cent to the pawnshop alone, and in general am never able to get things in order because of arrears. As has once again been demonstrated in Trier, nothing will be achieved with my old lady until I can go and personally sit on her throat”.
One has to give Professor Rat credit for persisting until he finally abides by the 250 word limit, but as his premise has already been soundly refuted by the Inconvenient Truth that Marx died several years before the Whitechapel murders, what’s the point?
Marx may not have been the most admirable human being in terms of how he regarded his interpersonal relationships with women. That doesn’t mean that every single ethical/philosophical insight that the man had is worthless.
You out there. You, you mongrel, are the “previous owner”.
What does this mean? At some point in time, you said “good enough” and stopped spending money, stopped doing the job properly and covered it up.
Bastard previous owner acts are the lowest form social behaviour on the planet. Sure, you’ve got to sell what you don’t need, but at least make it safe, or leave it obviously broken.
What sort of low, gutter crawling shenanigans am I referring to? You know exactly what I’m talking about. Remember the rotted laundry floor joists that were simply covered over with plywood? I had to fix that. Remember the broken sewage pipe that didn’t quite reach the laundry drain? Not even capped! How you stood the stench whenever it rained I’ll never know (actually I do - you left about 6 months after doing it). That dodgy wiring job to fix where car had caught fire, and threatened to do so again? That was me, left staring at the tangled and unravelled wiring harness and wondering why the headlight was connected to the ignition, which was why the car only ran with the headlights on.
One day, I’ll catch you in the act of bodging, papering over, covering up, hammering or gooping. It will not be pretty.
Plaudits to Mercurius, Prof Rat and David Rubie.
We were the previous owner of a car; we did NOT wind the clock back, “Abdul” who bought it for cash did. But the prospective buyer saw our name on the rego papers and tracked us down and phoned, thereby learning the clock had been wound back. Lost all interest immediately. For once a “previous owner” did someone a favour. But only cos she sought us out.
Professor Rat, if Karl was a lousy husband and non-provider, what part of his Major Rant against Capital can be attributed to his Hatred of Success and Wealth? Any? None?
tigtog: I think the case has legs, there’s always been the stink of Necromancy around the Whitechapel murders.
With all due respect tigtog, I feel what you have proposed here is unnecessary and more to be likely to be inciteful than insightful. The blogosphere will never run short of rants. And the best, bitter and most heartfelt ones will always trump the kind of bloodless pastiche that this particular exercise will generate. Because REAL RANTS are driven by people who just can’t express themselves any other way. In fact I think it’s downright patronising of you to ask those that should know better to parody those that know no other way of MAKING THEIR POINT. The raison d’etre of the blogosphere is it should contain a multiplicity of voices. Mocking the few original ones that arise like Botticelli’s Venus from the foam suddenly sporting big black army boots and red clown nose is pretty much tantamount to admitting you’re a son of JOACHIM OF FIORE, after all. Or at least a wet luuvie undermining civilisation as we know it. It’s a RED RAG to a bull to subtly but clearly tempt the likes of me to take pot shots at the many blog RANTOSAURUSES that loudly but harmlessly blunder about the intertubes, we should both know better here, especially me as I’m PRETTY MUCH JACK of these hamfisted attempts to BAIT PEOPLE into losing their cool YOU LYING COMMIE! and then enjoying THE SPECTACLE of them WIGGING OUT in public THE BELLS! THE BELLS! which will ACHIEVE NOTHING that’ll make us proud to be human THE HORROR! THE
Nabs, didn’t youse write a WHOLE BOOK that sounded like a hymn to youthful illegal flesh, a poem to blundering lust visited upon a nymphette whose beauty would make a hairy nosed wombat weep but said ogre should keep his bloody mitts off and definitely not drown her awful mother just so he could eat roots and leaves, you disgusting old horrid old scheming and deranged pediatrician you.
Which book youse wrote was a RANT of the first water, a textbook showing other beetle browed ugly hairy revolts how to deflower the pristine young ladies, unless of course some teenage Lothario had already achieved said notch on his perilously over-notched belt, you swine you coward you PREVERT.
And then you got your dirty little RANT published as a BOOK and made into a FILLUM. Twice, you drongo. How did youse do it? the green elf of jealousy is about.