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Location: the waves, the ocean

Hoist the sails, raise yer bloody goblets, ahoy & onward me laddies!

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Where Afeared Yer Cap'n's Been

Aye, lads, a goodly tie yer cap'n tied on, laced & licked through with rum & whiskey & haunted ever by ghostly, ghastly memories, lads, such that mine eye was clouded white o'er with the past, aye, at the very expense of the fledgling present, in all of its tender eager dreaming. Aye, well, 't happens, lads, when a cap'n falls on palimpsest & 'is back to the bow does turn. But here I be, lads, ready to wind on me cautionary tale, aye, if ye've an ear for listening. Me previous note digressed lads 'pon that sore subject of Blackbeard, most famed of the post-Golden Age pirates, aye, for reasons I shall avoid exposing again today, though suffice it to say me laddies that ere a man becomes a pirate proper he dabbles not in marketing, nay, but steers a course of trial, toil & travail that defines 'is endeavor, aye, to its very core, lads, such that the savagery of battle defines i'm from the inside out, lads, & not, as with that pestulant proxy, the loosely worn cape of words. Well, enough o' that, lads, & on with me tale. I left ye there with the frigid water rushing full into me brigate's hull, aye, with me unpatched eye looking on as about me artifacts whirled in the wake of the sinking bulk, me shoulder badly bitten by the mule-shark that now shall grin no more, aye, &, from what I espied there below the blue, me crew had lighten 'pon the British man-o-war with nary a speck of apparent guile, divested thereupon of their integrity as pirates, becoming instead, of an instant, scurrilous dogs, aye, woe-beholden, manacled to the fate of the pussilanimous & putrid of spirit, aye. & there me spied their things whirling in that vortex of frozen sludge, & there I spied me escape, aye, where no good eye would fall 'pon me, where me crew might think me dead that I may Lazarus unbid to bring them to the consequence of their mutiny. Aye, lads, I found me escape in-- beg yer pardon, lads, a knock, a knocking now 'pon me wooden door...

10 Comments:

Anonymous Captain MarchMadnessBeard said...

I once knocked 'pon a wooden door. It seemed to knock back, aye, as if its fibers flexed and repelled me hand, each fist vector a clown 'pon a trampouline, 'is path determined by sheer momentum, predictable and measureable, like some child's yo-yo, some pendulum, and aye, me knock did continue, and I found meself bothe nervous and intrigued, anticipating what might lie on the other side, what spirit might answer me, what kind soul might offer up chowder for th' evening. Twas then I realized I was face down on the poop deck again, a spilt bottle of rum close by. Aye. Tis a shitter sometimes, Dagger. Verily.

11:03 PM  
Anonymous the bo'son said...

What's this knock 'pon the door? 'Tis the most suspense I've been left in since me last shore leave. 'Twas the year of '93 when I and a pair of scurvy swabs sought a couple hours' entertainments at the cinema, choosing in particular a motion picture of the action & adventure variety, as we were wont to do in those days, and feasting our sea-abrazed eyes 'pon the epic vistas and flitting inner demons of the e'er so rollicking Cliffhanger, in the starring role the person of Silvester Stallone, pirate of the mountainside, salty dog of the gorge, reproduced ten score in size 'pon the silver screen. Aye, 'twas the early days of THX surround sound then, mates, & the sound design of Gregg Baxter assaulted our ears as we languished in the strains of Trevor Jones' subtle and penetrating score. Ah, the life of the movie-goer, mates, such as a simple boatswain as meself could nor imagine nor deserve . . .

9:31 AM  
Blogger COMMENT_POLICE said...

ARR DORKS WE BE FOR WE GOT KICKED OUT OF YONDER DEUNGEONS AND DRAGONS QUEST!
I FOUND MESELF LOST IN A BLOG SMOTHERED IN MOLDY HUMOR AND ACNE! YAR!
-COMMENT POLICE

5:47 PM  
Blogger moonlight ambulette said...

avast, dearest henry,

me thought you might like this:
http://www.fidius.org/quiz/pirate/
but perhaps this be folly on me part.

verily,
red annie flint

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4:48 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Tis many years past since the Ivory Coast last saw the likes of Henry Dagger... So lift up the skull and the dirty crossbones and get yerself ready to flag her. And we drink for the day that a pirate had his way... before the longshoreman, before the coast guard, when a man was a man and he took what he sarrrrrrrr...

We miss ye cap'n, we all miss ye
--Longsense

8:35 PM  
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