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Re: DAY :ashes in new year, Chinese yet soon too? I'll be blowed: drink?

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  • Peter Lenihan
    ... yeh. ... metric ... considwers ... but ... of ... but ... on ... mesg ... an ... thr ... he ... and ... ansd ... othersd ... it ... feet ... shirt ... and
    Message 1 of 6 , Jan 4, 2008
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      --- In bolger@yahoogroups.com, "graeme19121984" <graeme19121984@...>
      wrote:
      >
      >
      >
      > from some coot lurker; ( where i got it from, an go the coOts/
      yeh.
      > an I no you are too) ( might still be a winjammer here to thr some
      > day soone as oil today over 100$ a barrel record a nd thats
      metric
      > here for oiIL about the same as a barrel of XXXX now)
      >
      > What and where doo I remember that bolger hapyy new year
      considwers
      > thomas day?? weLL there''s SEA Bird eighty6 and ther666s uthers,
      but
      > here: tyhanks to COOTS: we got sum origunal stuff for Bolgerados:
      >
      > I truly have to to say I maen sincere real apolopgees for some
      of
      > the comntent early into ut and it could so eesily be fighting
      > words for lots because it does mnake me pay careful attention,
      but
      > breathee in a bit, an lots wont get that feeling anyway but here's
      > been lots, but that was probly just a man (((DAY) (middddlrc;ass
      > anglo whote did I say anglo anfd middle classs. and in his toimes
      > erly 1900"s n not PC tuday: good stuff as Harry wood say: and good
      on
      > th coots too: tell you bout harry anotther chineese ok: read this
      > bolgrities - breathe in , and read theh meaning of the DAY: the
      mesg
      > of the Day - I could eezilly go there - think Bolger an out boards
      an
      > adventure an getting rid oif STUFF an doin it an just bre4athin
      thr
      > salt :
      >
      > o.
      >
      > Oh
      >
      >
      > mr Bolger was goin on about so much more but nevertha less it ewas
      > there an i felt it but the again t I h also read Reueel Parker an
      he
      > kinda hints about DAY ---- oooo ===== nonpareil--- (( what then is
      > bloody pariel? ) == Mowe,r huntington, not what you mow with,
      and
      > still tjere is respect that comes through DAY from Bolger here
      ansd
      > there and Parker who said Bolger know a Sharpie etc etc anf
      othersd
      > who know a parker etc.
      >
      > Respect as it posses and passes and passes yey again and again and
      > again each year and drink it down up still up we go and then down
      it
      > and up etcetera as:::
      >
      > "You and I at the end of it will get no more than he will six
      feet
      > of mother earth. To the devil with your fifty years of dress
      shirt
      > existence, trousers with pockets, and houses with doors, and all
      > the rest of the paraphernalia that goes to make up civilization.
      > When are we happiest? The Look in your hands.... Is what you
      > have succeeded in grasping worth any more than a fistful of yon
      > gray ash in whos crumbling heap the last sparks are flickering
      and
      > passing away?"
      >
      > T. F. Day, editor of The Rudder, 1911
      >
      > http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MessaboutW/message/19849
      >
      > was thi sthe 1900's? Boats, or then fashionable Theosophy? Or is
      it
      > allways boats anyway?!
      >
      >
      > must of been drinkin XXXX too i would say. not really a depressif
      > just matter of fact to the ordinary ""man", but maybe thats how he
      > was and yhat resonated wih boLger?? Matter of fact it is in fsct
      >
      > cheers
      > grme
      >
      > an also ps S, if youse want to smell som of that salt taste, heres
      > WINJAMMMMERS, the last commercial last fleet, 30000tons plus
      under
      > sail afteer ww 1 and ww2, yeh way to go an eighteen story high
      masts
      > an oral historyof those guys that sailed em, an whats' it ilke
      about
      > the horn pregnant women sail type boats and all, an if I only
      could
      > lift this table with my TEETH the drinks ud be all mine, b ut a
      sit
      > is i'm hanging off the wall horizontal by them same teeth right
      now
      > if you belive it, horizuntal", cause of anothe rbet, but then
      tht's
      > life in ant year I guess, an the typin is harder: it's lusten up
      > here, in the back ground but i'd bet youo mostly listne closey,
      happy
      > new years all: (moNTY Python got it rong about FINLAND I'd reckn
      > course these ships need balls and more as well as wind up rm an a
      > beautiful pregnancy
      >
      > )
      >
      > The Cape Horners (radio)
      >
      > http://www.abc.net.au/rn/hindsight/stories/2007/2111656.htm
      >
      > houses with doors, and mugs with handles, and mugs with boats and
      > mugs and boats, happy new year, and here's to pockets a hundred
      years
      > on, and on.



      There are times,though not all that frequent, when I sincerely wish
      I had a better understanding of the English language.And then there
      are times, such as with this piece of work, when I doubt a better
      understanding would really help all that much........perhaps it is
      not too early for a drink afterall!!! :-D

      Sincerely,

      Peter Lenihan
      >
    • Hajo Smulders
      I at first thought this was one of those surreal spam messages (Which I find fascinating by themselves). But then glancing over it I read about the bolgerados
      Message 2 of 6 , Jan 4, 2008
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        I at first thought this was one of those surreal spam messages (Which I find
        fascinating by themselves). But then glancing over it I read about the
        bolgerados etc... Even then at first I thought spam was getting smarter;
        picking up sentences from previous forum postings and reusing those. I had
        been suspecting spambots to start doing this; but this would've been thge
        first one I encountered. Usually I get shakespeare or Moby Dick... (You have
        to forgive me; I'm a programmer for a major website (We did more than a
        billion hits last year) and this stuff attracts my professional interest.)
        When I did discover that there was a human being behind this (Congrats mate;
        you passed a reverse Turing test) I was stunned and very happy at the same
        time. Mr. (or Mrs; but I expect Mr.) graeme19121984: Happy new year to you!
        I am happy to find people that have totally different ways of thinking than
        I do and that makes this world a fascinating and wonderfull place. If I ever
        run into you your first drink is on me.

        Hajo


        >
        > There are times,though not all that frequent, when I sincerely wish
        > I had a better understanding of the English language.And then there
        > are times, such as with this piece of work, when I doubt a better
        > understanding would really help all that much........perhaps it is
        > not too early for a drink afterall!!! :-D
        >
        > Sincerely,
        >
        > Peter Lenihan
        > >
        >
        >
        >



        --
        --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
        Q: How many women does it take to screw in a light bulb?

        A: That's "womyn" with a Y, and it's not funny!


        [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
      • dnjost
        ... ewas ... is ... and ... down ... all ... civilization. ... yon ... This is evidence that the spirit of John Cage lives on in the computer programming
        Message 3 of 6 , Jan 4, 2008
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          > > mr Bolger was goin on about so much more but nevertha less it
          ewas
          > > there an i felt it but the again t I h also read Reueel Parker an
          > he
          > > kinda hints about DAY ---- oooo ===== nonpareil--- (( what then
          is
          > > bloody pariel? ) == Mowe,r huntington, not what you mow with,
          > and
          > > still tjere is respect that comes through DAY from Bolger here
          > ansd
          > > there and Parker who said Bolger know a Sharpie etc etc anf
          > othersd
          > > who know a parker etc.
          > >
          > > Respect as it posses and passes and passes yey again and again
          and
          > > again each year and drink it down up still up we go and then
          down
          > it
          > > and up etcetera as:::
          > >
          > > "You and I at the end of it will get no more than he will six
          > feet
          > > of mother earth. To the devil with your fifty years of dress
          > shirt
          > > existence, trousers with pockets, and houses with doors, and
          all
          > > the rest of the paraphernalia that goes to make up
          civilization.
          > > When are we happiest? The Look in your hands.... Is what you
          > > have succeeded in grasping worth any more than a fistful of
          yon
          > > gray ash in whos crumbling heap the last sparks are flickering
          > and
          > > passing away?"
          > >
          > > T. F. Day, editor of The Rudder, 1911
          > >
          > > http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MessaboutW/message/19849
          > >
          > > was thi sthe 1900's? Boats, or then fashionable Theosophy? Or is
          > it
          > > allways boats anyway?!

          This is evidence that the spirit of John Cage lives on in the
          computer programming world. I get messages in my email that resemble
          the sentence structure seen above, but they are usually asking me to
          help hide money for some prince in Africa, or enlarging body parts
          through modern medicine.

          I for one, would rather build a boat. June Bug perhaps. 18lbs a
          sheet for Oukume. It should come our around the 100 lbs. Bolger was
          aiming for and will take the place of: 16' canoe, 13' Enterprise, and
          my beloved Pointy Skiff.

          David Jost
        • John Kohnen
          Graeme, in his enthusiasm, got himself all stumbled and jumbled up somehow. ;o) This bit of Thomas Fleming Day s editorial jotting from an old Rudder magazine
          Message 4 of 6 , Jan 4, 2008
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            Graeme, in his enthusiasm, got himself all stumbled and jumbled up
            somehow. ;o) This bit of Thomas Fleming Day's editorial jotting from an
            old Rudder magazine that I posted over on the Messabout group evidentally
            sent poor Graeme into an incoherent ecstasy. <g>

            "The fire is well burned down, the end of the last log is sticking out of
            the gray ash, smoking and smoldering like an old love affair, and there is
            no more fuel in the locker. Let her go out, say I, for I'm sick of this
            armchair life and want to get outdoors, where a man don't have to breathe
            the same air twice over in order to get a good full of oxygen. I'm tired,
            boys; tired as a dog that has hunted rabbits all day. The only difference
            the dog runs his quarry to earth, while mine take to the water. I was just
            thinking when you joined me, what's the use of all this this living, this
            working, this worrying, this fretting and fussing? Isn't the negro who
            sits in the shade of the plantain, content that he has a shirt to his back
            and a meal in his belly, the more sensible fellow? You and I at the end of
            it will get no more than he will six feet of mother earth. To the devil
            with your fifty years of dress shirt existence, trousers with pockets, and
            houses with doors, and all the rest of the paraphernalia that goes to make
            up civilization. When are we happiest? The day we throw this all off, and,
            clad in our worst, play savage on some lonely shore, dragging a meal out
            of the water as our ancestors did before some misguided idiots invented
            money, markets, and manners. To-day I have a thousand-fold the knowledge
            possessed by the most learned and brilliant of the ancients, but am I any
            happier? Not a bit. You and I are being dragged at the wheels of the thing
            we call Progress, and those who ride, cry out to join in a song of
            triumph. For what? Look in your hands. Is what you have succeeded in
            grasping worth any more than a fistful of yon gray ash in whose crumbling
            heap the last sparks are flickering and passing away?"

            T. F. Day, editor of The Rudder, 1911
            On Fri, 04 Jan 2008 02:31:32 -0800, Peter L wrote:
            > There are times,though not all that frequent, when I sincerely wish
            > I had a better understanding of the English language.And then there
            > are times, such as with this piece of work, when I doubt a better
            > understanding would really help all that much........perhaps it is
            > not too early for a drink afterall!!! :-D
            >
            > --- In bolger@yahoogroups.com, graeme wrote:
            >
            >> from some coot lurker; ( where i got it from, an go the coOts/
            >> yeh.
            > > ...

            --
            John <jkohnen@...>
            The world is a skirt I want to lift up. <Hanif Kureishi>
          • SaIL Again Resources
            Had a good friend that lived in the dunes of Truro back in the 60 s that waxed profound in the same manner as Mr. Day. Sure miss that man and his wonderful
            Message 5 of 6 , Jan 6, 2008
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              Had a good friend that lived in the dunes of Truro back in the 60's that waxed profound in the same manner as Mr. Day. Sure miss that man and his wonderful wisdom.

              John Kohnen <jhkohnen@...> wrote: Graeme, in his enthusiasm, got himself all stumbled and jumbled up
              somehow. ;o) This bit of Thomas Fleming Day's editorial jotting from an
              old Rudder magazine that I posted over on the Messabout group evidentally
              sent poor Graeme into an incoherent ecstasy.

              "The fire is well burned down, the end of the last log is sticking out of
              the gray ash, smoking and smoldering like an old love affair, and there is
              no more fuel in the locker. Let her go out, say I, for I'm sick of this
              armchair life and want to get outdoors, where a man don't have to breathe
              the same air twice over in order to get a good full of oxygen. I'm tired,
              boys; tired as a dog that has hunted rabbits all day. The only difference
              the dog runs his quarry to earth, while mine take to the water. I was just
              thinking when you joined me, what's the use of all this this living, this
              working, this worrying, this fretting and fussing? Isn't the negro who
              sits in the shade of the plantain, content that he has a shirt to his back
              and a meal in his belly, the more sensible fellow? You and I at the end of
              it will get no more than he will six feet of mother earth. To the devil
              with your fifty years of dress shirt existence, trousers with pockets, and
              houses with doors, and all the rest of the paraphernalia that goes to make
              up civilization. When are we happiest? The day we throw this all off, and,
              clad in our worst, play savage on some lonely shore, dragging a meal out
              of the water as our ancestors did before some misguided idiots invented
              money, markets, and manners. To-day I have a thousand-fold the knowledge
              possessed by the most learned and brilliant of the ancients, but am I any
              happier? Not a bit. You and I are being dragged at the wheels of the thing
              we call Progress, and those who ride, cry out to join in a song of
              triumph. For what? Look in your hands. Is what you have succeeded in
              grasping worth any more than a fistful of yon gray ash in whose crumbling
              heap the last sparks are flickering and passing away?"

              T. F. Day, editor of The Rudder, 1911
              On Fri, 04 Jan 2008 02:31:32 -0800, Peter L wrote:
              > There are times,though not all that frequent, when I sincerely wish
              > I had a better understanding of the English language.And then there
              > are times, such as with this piece of work, when I doubt a better
              > understanding would really help all that much........perhaps it is
              > not too early for a drink afterall!!! :-D
              >
              > --- In bolger@yahoogroups.com, graeme wrote:
              >
              >> from some coot lurker; ( where i got it from, an go the coOts/
              >> yeh.
              > > ...

              --
              John
              The world is a skirt I want to lift up.


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