Sunday, 31 December 2006

"AH DUNNO!"

It's New Year's Eve
Just one more heave
Tomorrow's world waits, fresh and new.
Do I believe that? Or do you?


A warm welcome to all in the burrow today. Hot brandy mince pies will be served.

10 comments:

Jose said...

Tomorrow's world new and fresh, Anticant? The world will be older tomorrow and staler. It has been so for millions of years if I follow scientists' teachings.

It isn't pessimism, it is just the reality of things. We may change it, better we must change it, but how can we get together 6 billion plus people to carry it out?

Szwagier said...

I've never thought much of New Year's Eve, to be honest.

But I'm slowly coming round to the view that, as it's the celebration of one of the most trivial thing things in the Universe - that the planet Earth is one second older than it was previously - I should really approve of it more.

Noone getting born in unsanitary conditions; noone being nailed to pieces of wood; no glorification or war or death, or even peace and life. Just a lot of drunken joy that the clock is ticking. Perfect.

trousers said...

I've never been one for New Year resolutions - I think changes should be made at whichever opportunity. However the space I've allowed myself to reflect on the changes I do need to make, in recent weeks, means I'm effectively (if coincidentally) making New Years Resolutions.

My hope therefore is that my own little world can feel somewhat fresher in the coming months than it has done in the last few.

As for the world at large (if that's not a silly phrase) I carry no such hopes.

Mince pie much appreciated. Thank you.

zola said...

G'day Anticant : After a liquidy day of postmodern fluids picked and mixed with northern new year eve delights I suspect I need a few of those mince pies. This especially if they have substance.
Bloody ell I could eat an orse right now.
send the pies. urgent.

anticant said...

Hi Zola, ben and the Beadle were just about to set about beating the burrow bounds to see if there was a drunken and disorderly Zola lying around outside. Mince pies await you. Sorry, no horses - you'll have to make do with reindeer.

lavenderblue said...

The World tomorrow will indeed be older and staler..........and rather too many of the 6 billion plus the reindeer will be hungover............
ZoZo will however be pure in mind,spirit and body..........
and A Happy New Year to you all.

Suzon said...

It could all be much worse. But it's bad enough says Eyore.

Eytalian says pessimism of the intellect, optimism of the alcoholic spirits.

Bring on the pies! Zo bless us everyone!

zola said...

Indeed there is me old Anticant.
Zola is D and D slowly but surely but not on the floor or in the gutter yet.
BTW : I resolve for next year to make a real effort to distribute those mince pies to undergraduate students and prositutes. This in hope that it will be good for them.
If that goes well lawyers and politicians come next.

zola said...

Anticant : two very suspicious ladies are hot on our tails methinks.
What is the legal position for this and what advice from the beadle of the parish?
However they sound very polite and well spoken.

Percy Flarge said...

Good evening, Mr Zola Sir,

I venture to approach you in a spirit of seasonal goodwill, to aspire to a kindlier view on your part of the fraternity of Beadles. Pompous and tiresome on occasion we may be, but we perform humble and essential duties to the best of our limited abilities.

This afternoon, on my annual secondment to assist my old chief, Mr Bumble, at the Work House, I prevailed upon him to bestow a small extra portion of gruel upon the inmates, to universal acclamation. Noting that you favour the charitable distribution of mince pies to prostitutes and students, I wish to propose that next Yuletide we together staff a Crisis at Christmas soup kitchen in Lapland [my return transport via Santamobile permitting].

In view of your interest in the Rochdale Pioneers, you may be interested to know that I am a former denizen of Toad Lane. Finally, may I respectfully point out that whatever other adjectival kind of Beadle I am, I am NOT an 'effing' Beadle, and have not been so since the lamented demise of the late Mrs. Flarge.

With the season's compliments,

P. Flarge