Teil Drei-Und Vierzig
To listen, poke the bat ar right.
To read this week's episode, click the snow over Hessen.
The story so far is here.
"Why are all our women sickly?"Asks the famous Dr. Blenn.That is answered very quickly,-Our physicians all are men.
Heat, says Professor Tyndall, is a mode2009 Update: The condition poets will call inspiring, construction crews perspiring, joggers respirational, surfers recreational, the sleepy soporific, and the chef prolific; as measured by a thermometer.
Of motion, but I know now how he's proving
His point; but this I know — hot words bestowed
With skill will set the human fist a-moving,
And where it stops the stars burn free and wild.
Crede expertum — I have seen them, child.
2009 Update: Punishable by exclamation.There was a pretty girl.In the terror and the whirl
Of the tempest of her passion she was torrid!
But when moderately moved
By what she disapproved
She said, with gentle censure, it was horrid.
A chip, in floating down a stream,Indulged a gratifying dream:"All things on earth but only IAre bound by stern necessity-"Are moved this way or that, their courseDetermined by some outer force."The helpless boughs upon the treesConfess the suasion of the breeze."The stone where it was placed remainsTill loosened by the frost or rains."The animals go here and thereAs circumstances may declare."The influence they cannot seeIs clearly visible to me."Yet all belive they're governed stillBy nothing but their solemn will."Deluded fools! I-I aloneObey no forces but my own."Without or sail or oar, I glideAt pleasure to the ocean's tide."No pow'r shall stay me till I laveMy body in the salt sea wave.Just then an eddy's gentle strengthBy hardly half a finger's length,His chipship drew aside. Said he;"'Tis far indeed to reach the sea."Now more and more, behold him swerveAlong the eddy's outer curve.He says: "My joy in swimming's o'erI'm half inclined to go ashore."As still he sweeps his arc,He adds: "The day is growing dark,"But still there's time to reach, no doubt,The point for which I first set out."The circle was completed quite."Right here," he said. "I'll pass the night."Nor ever once that chip suspectedThat ought but he his course deflected.Free-will, O mortals, is a dream:Ye all are ships upon a stream.
He either fears his fate too much,2009 Update: Panic at the mundane or its variations.
Or his deserts are small,
Who dares not put it to the touch-
Who'd rather pass than call.
Earl of Montrose
When Adam long ago in Cupid's awful court
(For Cupid ruled ere Adam was invented)
Sued for Eve's favor, says an ancient law report,
He stood and pleaded unhabilimented.
"You sue in forma pauperis, I see," Eve cried;
"Actions can't here be that way prosecuted."
So all poor Adam's motions coldly were denied:
He went away — as he had come — nonsuited.
heard from afarAncestral voices prophesying war.