I find it fascinating the way our culture bestows the presumption of intelligence on certain people. As far as I can tell, anyone with a medical degree is at the top of the list. Now, I’m sure you will say, “wait a minute, Jo Cose, I don’t think that that is necessarily true.” Well, think about it before you go on. How many people do you know who say, “Well the doctor said so,” or “I read about it and they quoted a doctor,” or even the oh so witty retort, “where did you get your M.D. from?” So, yes, I think that most Americans take it for granted that their doctors are at the top of the intellectual food chain.
Second on that list is, of course, the non-medical doctors. It’s true; if you have a Ph.D. after your name, you are automatically considered a brilliant person. Surely, having spent that much time and money in and on school, you must be smarter than the average bear. Working at America’s premiere space agency, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard people say that so-and-so must have the right answer because he/she has a Ph.D.
I spent 3 years in an M.A. program, where I met a lot of Ph.D.s, Ph.D. students, and Ph.D. candidates. I must admit that a few of them were worthy of the epithet “brilliant”; however, most of them were not. What the average Joe/Jane doesn’t realize is that all a Ph.D. means is that you are a (if not the) leading expert IN YOUR FIELD, not necessarily (or usually) in ALL fields. No, it is actually my experience that most Ph.D.s are anything but brilliant, and extremely few of them have as much knowledge outside of their topic as they do in their specific topic.
All this is merely a build-up to share with you an email I was cc:ed on that was written by someone who feels the need to add “, Ph.D.” after her name in her email signature block.
Thank you very much--it was the introductions that are of utmost concern. I understand that adding the Chairman was a last-minute thing, it was as you said, however, that we had to adjust the remarks once for the change, and we were fine with doing it because it would be appropriate for S---- to introduce him. What is of concern re: appropriateness is S---- having to re-take the stage to introduce Dr. W-----. She greatly respects Dr. W----- but it just isn't appropriate at her level to have to keep getting up to the podium to do introductions when she is not even the host of the event.
While I must admit that if you read it two or three times, it becomes quite clear, it really is offensive to me as someone who has spent so much time in school to see a “, Ph.D.” after the name of the person who wrote this crap.
I realize that I haven’t really posted in quite a while (well, to be honest, I’ve posted more recently than between other posts in the past). So, I’ve been hunting around for something to talk about. I recently completed Lynne Truss’s book, Talk to the Hand: The Utter Bloody Rudeness of the World Today, or Six Good Reasons to Stay Home and Bolt the Door. It was exactly what was to be expected. I find her writing engaging, inspiring, and refreshing. She writes (generally) how I strive to write: in a carefree, laid back, yet sometimes pedantic manner, but never losing sight of the fact that pop culture references are OK. Sadly, while I found myself at times laughing out loud and at others nodding my head emphatically in agreement, I found the book to be rather disappointing. Where Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation was educational and fun, Talk to the Hand was more of general ranting with little scholarship behind it (not that her intention was to be scholarly in any way—in fact she says in the beginning that it won’t be). In general, I find that comediennes tend to focus their humor on a) men/relationships, 2) being fat, and III) periods. While she didn’t really talk about any of these, there was still, at times, that feel of the safe fallback routines for women, if that makes any kind of sense.
Or, if I didn’t want to talk about that, I could discuss either or both of the other books I’m reading, Spunk & Bite, a book that I hope will help me to write in the aforementioned style, and Cursing in America: A Psycholinguistic Study of Dirty Language in the Courts, in the Movies, in the Schoolyards and on the Streets, which the title pretty much says it all. The former is really little more than bathroom reading at this point, and the latter is actually more engaging than I expected. The author’s not much of a writer, but the topic is interesting. I’m sure he picked it for no other reason than to be able to say such words as fuck, motherfucker, cocksucker, and cunt at academic conferences…but that’s just my guess. In case you are wondering, I just finished Bill Bryson’s book, Made in America: An Informal History of the English Language in the United States, and in there he mentioned Cursing in America as one of the only books on the history of cursing, so I thought I’d pick it up. (Also, in case you’re wondering, I really didn’t like Made in America. I found the title misleading; it was more a brief history of America than anything to do with language. True, he did mention at the end of each section or chapter that words came out of whatever specific moment in time he was discussing, but it really wasn’t about the words as much as it was about the history of the United States.)
Then I thought about the book I’ve been neglecting. I started reading Gabriel García Márquez’ semi-fictional Love in the Time of Cholera, but I have to be honest, it’s not terribly exciting, and I’ve been reading other stuff in between pages. The Little Sabra bought me One Hundred Years of Solitude for my birthday, but I haven’t started it yet. I will, though, I promise.
Speaking of the Little Sabra, I could talk about her, but we haven’t done anything too terribly exciting since we got back from Boston. I think the most interesting thing we've done recently was go to Baltimore to meet my folks for snow balls.
There’s stuff going on in the news, but it who really cares that Paris Hilton got out of jail?
LtL and I are embarking on a new website, so that’s sort of got me jazzed, but as neither of us know anything about Drupal, the site is rather slow going. I don’t think I want to talk about it here, though.
What else? I joined the Smithsonian Institution a few weeks ago and just got my first issue of thier magazine. I started reading that, and there are some very interesting articles about very interesting people.
Finally, I should wrap this up with a general bitch about how there are so many people out there doing amazing and interesting things, and here I am sitting on my ass fantasizing about doing amazing things. How do they do it? Some kid (well, 23—gee, I’m feeling old calling a 23-year old a kid) just flew around the world in a plane he built, someone else is feeding the hungry, and still another citizen of the world is building mud huts in the middle of Africa, and here I sit on the 9th floor of NASA HQ, cooled by the A/C, typing away at my computer with little actual work to do, fantasizing about articles I could write, TV shows I could produce, non-profits I could start, websites I could develop, and still I sit while others do.
I often wonder if I really made a wise investment when I borrowed many thousands of dollars from Mr. Stafford to go to graduate school. I mean, instead of wasting my time learning from people who have devoted themselves to study and learning, I could have been working for the government getting a real education.
Here are some things that I have learned since coming to the government (and yes, I know that some of this may have appeared before, but so what? It’s my blog and no one can tell me what to do):
- It is inappropriate to use semicolons in letters
- It is bad to use the word however in letters
- It is not necessary to italicize titles of books or ships, even space ships (I wonder how they would handle the use of italics in the comment above?)
- Even though letters are signed by individuals, it is correct to use we instead of I, even when we refers in one paragraph to NASA alone and the next it refers to NASA and another agency
- Regrettably is better than Unfortunately
- It is incorrect grammar to have a 1 sentence paragraph
- Besides being the past tense and past participle of lend, lent apparently is not a word, and even if it were, it sounds less formal than loaned
- It sounds much more impressive to use myself when you mean me
- Similarly, it sounds much more impressive to use I when you mean me
- One should never split a hyphenated word across lines
I need to get out of here!
I went down to the Library of Congress this morning to photocopy some articles for bobzillaau.
Now, anyone who either has heard me tirade about the Library of Congress before or has been to this esteemed repository knows very well where this little blog entry is going.
They only had 1 of the 2 articles that Bobzillau needed (naturally), but I ordered that one and went to a computer to do a little research on my own topics. It occurred to me that while I was there, I should do a little light reading in the New York Dramatic Mirror. As the events that I am currently researching occurred in 1892, I requested that particular volume. I handed in my ticket and prepared myself for the inevitable reply from the tech, “it’ll be up in about 45 minutes.” Well, within 20 minutes, my ticket was returned with the little box next to “Not on Shelf” ticked. I walked up to the other tech and said in my most polite tone, “does this mean that someone in the reading room is currently using this book.” In the short, aggravated tone of the non-aspiring GS-4, she looked at me and said, “it means it’s off the shelf. It could be anywhere. We don’t keep track.”
So, I gave up. I have fought this battle too many times. It is inexcusable that there is no tracking system for these books. Once removed from the shelf for any reason, they are lost to the keepers of the books. I suppose that the gnomes who work in the bowels of the Library of Congress only hope and pray that the books are returned when readers are finished with them. I went to speak with a librarian for 2 reasons: 1) to tell them that I think it is absurd there is no tracking system and that they have no clue what becomes of the very things that they are chartered to protect, and 2) to find out what other theatre magazines, periodicals, and journals the Library of Congress owns that were published in 1892.
One of the odd things about the Library of Congress is that they seem to have 2 kinds of people working there: annoyingly helpful people and annoyingly disinterested people. The librarian who I spoke with was among the former. He wanted to know all about who I was researching, and I tried several times to tell him politely that I have already done extensive research on Sampson, and I have already looked in many places for his name. Undeterred, he still decided to pull several reference books off the shelf and suggested that I look Sampson up in there. Finally, after about 30 minutes of looking through books that I had already looked through, and listening to the librarian rattle off unimportant and unrelated things, I finally decided to head over to the performing arts reading room. I was sure that they should have a list of theatre trade magazines.
I signed into the Music Reading Room (for that is where the performing arts collection is housed) at 11:20 am and left at about 2:30 pm. Why was I there so long? Well I met a fascinating gentleman. He is the performing arts librarian, and he was one of the most interesting people I have met in a very long time. He had a shock of thick, white hair on his head that was in need of combing, but shaped in the classic “comb-over” style of balding men. He was unshaven, with stubble as white as the hair on his head. He had bushy salt-and-pepper Groucho Marx type eyebrows protruding from beneath his glasses, and not a little bit of hair growing in plain site from areas that one really shouldn’t have hair growing. He was dressed in a shirt that had more stains than the tablecloth at the local diner, and it looked like he had slept the past several days in it (as well as in the pants). He screamed academic eccentric from the word go.
As I mentioned, he was the most interesting person I have met in a very long time, and I thoroughly enjoyed the time I spent talking with him about all sorts of things. He scored points in the very fact that he knew who Sandow was without prompting! He was a very smart, very informed theatre historian, and he was a good listener—asking poignant questions about my main topic and other topics we touched upon during our hours long conversation. He knew one of my professors at the University of Maryland and we talked about him for a moment. The LOC Librarian is interested in theatre spaces (that is, the actual venue and physical structures like the New Amsterdam in New York). This is where he and the University of Maryland prof come together. So, he told me a little about his dissertation, which looked at the rise of 42nd Street in New York City as a major theatre strip. He was interested in how certain areas become important theatre districts. I thought that this was fascinating, and I will be ILLing his dissertation to see what he says. I told him about my early idea of looking at the intersection of theatre technology and maritime technology, and he thought that that was a good idea, but agreed that it would be difficult without knowledge of Latin, and Italian. I mentioned the Drottningholm Theatre as one of the theatres that I would love to look at for this topic, and he understood and agreed. As I said, he is quite an informed person. I did have to argue with him, though, when we finally got back on track and started talking about strongmen. He seemed to feel certain that Sandow is only remembered because he was a good looking guy with a good body. I think that that is true, but it also oversimplifies the situation. True, because he was attractive (as opposed to the strongmen before him who looked tough and mean and rough), people were shocked to discover that he was also a strongman, but until Sandow, no one would have thought that he had a good body.
In the end, I found out, much to my surprise, that the Library of Congress actually has a full run of the New York Dramatic Mirror on microfilm. But, I never did get that list of theatre trade periodicals.
I went to McKeldin Library at the University of Maryland this past Friday to photocopy some articles, and I had to go up into the stacks. When the elevator opened, I stepped off and just stood there: paralyzed, transfixed. I had been transported to another place: the sight of all those books; the smell of all those books; the knowledge that was before me; so much to read, so much to learn. I just stood there and closed my eyes and drank in the smell of all those books. It was like a glass of fresh water to the parched Mariner. It made me so sad when I came to and realized that I was there for only a brief sojourn and not for good.
OK, so I just got back from 2 days of training. Was it ever a friggin' waste of my time and your tax dollars. YOU SHOULD COMPLAIN TO SOMEONE WHO WILL LISTEN. The title of the course was “Business Writing and Grammar Skills.” If ever your boss tells you to take this course, and you have been published, or even if you have a high school degree, don’t waste your time.
We actually spent the better part of an hour working on changing nouns into possessive case. I thought I was going to die of embarrassment for the rest of the class who were struggling. But, yes, it actually got worse. The next hour was devoted to the difference between the words to, too, and two. But wait, there’s more: we also covered their, there, and they’re.
I was required to take this class; apparently my boss makes all newbies take it regardless of their writing experience. So, I was resigned to be in the class, and it would have been tolerable—knowing that I was getting paid to be there and all—if the teacher wasn’t so horrible. I had some serious issues with her and disagreed with a lot of what she said (or just knew her to be wrong).
“Jo Cose,” you say, “you always think that you are right.” True, but that is because the good Lord cursed me with a brain and a little intelligence. Just to prove my point, I shall give you 2 examples.
Ex. 1) Even though this was not a technical writing class, she mentioned that if we ever found ourselves writing instructions, we should always stick to 7 steps or fewer. According to her, the brain cannot process more than 7 steps. She used LEGO as her example. Now, I could discuss 7 being a mystical and cabalistic number, but that isn’t where I’m going with this. No, it’s that she kept saying how LEGO is this great Dutch company. I kept my mouth shut, but for those who are interested, LEGO is in fact a Danish company.
Ex 2) She said that one of the major reasons why American English grammar is so hard is because there is no authoritative body to dictate rules. French, no matter where it’s spoken throughout the world (apparently, whether you are Cameroonian, Canadian, Haitian, or French, you're speaking the exact same language) is ruled by the Académie Française. This is, of course (mostly) true. The Académie Française does exist, but I don’t think that the countries that have repelled the yoke of French oppression are really going to ask the Académie Française their opinion on matters (can you see the Cajuns in Louisiana calling up France to check on a word?). Now, here’s where she got a little off (again). While we Yanks have no central body (which would have to be in Washington, DC, BTW), the British do: in Oxford. I wasn’t sure, so I double-checked, and my hunch was correct. The only thing in Oxford, besides snooty Brits, is a big-ole university named, oddly enough, Oxford University. Now, their press does publish the Oxford English Dictionary which is purported to have every “real” word in the English language. This is not the same as having an official body to legislate what words should and should not be in the English Language.
Another thing that really bothered me about her was her animosity toward the academy. Now, I admit that I am an academic snob, and an elitist, but I really must say something when people are just wrong. For a day and a half she kept saying how school did us (the students) a great injustice by teaching us passive voice and insisting that we use passive voice. “Colleges LOVE passive voice, and they want you to use it because it is flowery and makes you use more words,” she would say. Well, during a break we were talking about passive voice, and of course, I mentioned how I hate it because it removes all blame. She agreed, but insisted that there were other reasons, like college where they want you to write with lots of words. I couldn’t take it anymore and I said, “you know, I was in school a very long time, and I was always getting yelled at for using passive voice. They don’t like passive voice any more than anyone else.” She rebutted with, “I was in school for a long time as well, and, maybe it’s the program you were in. I was a history major and you can’t write history without passive voice. Take something like ‘Roosevelt was elected by the people.’” I parried with “Say, ‘The people elected Roosevelt.’ Now it’s active voice, even though it’s in the past. There is a difference between passive voice and past tense.” She responded to this in the classic, “I don’t want to argue about this,” and turned away. Refusing to allow her the last word, I said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were arguing; I thought we were having a conversation.”
Finally, my greatest issue with her was that early in the morning on the first day, we were chatting and I mentioned that my three biggest pet peeves since coming to NASA were (from least to greatest) the following things:
- calling everything an acronym whether it is initials, abbreviations, or acronyms
- IRS is an example of initials. It is pronounced like letters (I-R-S). Even though it is made up of the first letters of each word (Internal Revenue Service)
- Ltd., Esq., and Blvd. are abbreviations. You pronounce each as the full word: “Limited,” “Esquire,” and “Boulevard.” They are not said out loud as the letters, nor do they create new, unique words.
- NASA is an acronym. It is pronounced like a word (na-sah), but is made up of the first letter of each word, National Aeronautics and Space Administration
- misusing the word I. When in doubt stick with me. I much prefer a misused me to a misused I. For example, “if you have any questions, you can contact Jim or I.” NO NO NO! It’s Jim or ME. Would you say, “contact I”? Now take “Jim and I are going to the mall.” This is absolutely correct. “Me and Jim are going to the mall” is 100% wrong, but it’s OK; much better than “do you want to go to the mall with Jim and I?”
- using the reflexive pronoun. When in doubt, DON’T USE IT. I hate people who say stupid things like, “if you have any questions, you can contact Jim or myself.” It should be “me.” Would you say, “if you have any questions, you can contact myself”? Of course not. Well, I guess you would if you worked at NASA
So, I tell her this last one, and when we get to reflexive pronouns, she makes a big deal about how this is one of my pet peeves. Now, I would argue that almost everyone in that room misuses the reflective pronouns, so now everyone in the room thinks I’m a big-ole dick, when in fact it was the teacher who was the bitch for attaching my name to the issue in the first place.
One last thing. There was one good thing about the class. The instructor recommended Lynne Truss’s Eats, Shoots & Leaves. While I agree that it is (so far) a wonderfully funny and inspiring book, if I were the teacher I would have kept my mouth shut. She, the instructor, baldy plagiarized. The instructor would say things like, “the other day I was at the grocery store and I saw a sign that read…” or “I was in [enter city here] and there was a sign that said …” Well, I guess at this point you have figured out that they were ALL examples from the aforementioned book. Interestingly, they were all from the introduction as well. Hmmm, what does that tell you? The teacher gave yet another stolen example, a Dear John letter, which she at least changed a little: she changed the British “Dear Jack” to the American “Dear John.”
So, there you go. That is what poor, poor Jo Cose had to endure for the past two days.
Oh, BTW, I know that there are all kinds of grammatical errors in this entry, but it's my blog and I can write the way I want.
I went over to the University of Maryland last night to give MO the paperwork for his letter of reference he said he would write and my essay that he said he would read.
I wasn’t actually expecting him to be in as it was around 6:30 in the evening, and he usually rushes home to his wife. Also, I didn’t want to hang around as I was illegally parked in a teachers’ lot. I ran into the building, went up the elevator, ran down the hall, and as I turned the corner, I noticed that his door was open. I was praying that it would be his officemate because, as I said, I was illegally parked, and I didn’t want to be rude to MO and tell him that I couldn’t hang around and talk. As I turned into his doorway, I was completely taken off guard. His office was filled with people sitting all around and reading from books on music stands. Immediately it dawned on me, MO was rehearsing his play that will have a reading on Thursday.
I was so embarrassed, but I had gotten too far into his office, and he had nodded at me, so I moved in, as quietly as possible, to place the package on the table. I managed to do that, but as I turned, my jacket caught the edge of an extra music stand, standing by several others. Of course, as I moved, the jacket pushed the stand into the others, and as I tried to free my jacket, I stumbled, hitting other stands. It was something completely out of the movies, and the only thing worse that could have happened would have been if I had actually fallen into the stands.
Fortunately, I did get the package to him and didn’t get a ticket for illegally parking.
Hmm, I just noticed that every time I have one of these long, crazy weekends, it seems that Shining Starr9 is involved somehow.
Anyway, today started out OK; I got a late start but who cares. I went over to the Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center at the University of Maryland to use the Michelle Smith Performing Arts Library. I was looking for an article that Bobzilla suggested I look at. Wouldn’t you know, there was a football game going on. Now, as all of you know, in an ironic twist, I am not a sports fan, least of all college sports since they always come before academics, and I think that this country just doesn’t have its priorities right when it comes to education. So, I had to park a freaking mile away and walk and walk. Fortunately, it was a beautiful day, so it wasn’t all that bad in the end.
I finally made it to the Library, got the journal I was looking for with no hassle, and read the whole article without falling asleep, which was no easy feat. This last bit is actually unfortunate; it was really an interesting article demonstrating how British music halls moved from sometime performers running the theatres and circuits to professional businessmen running the corporate business. He, the author, argued that this shift was simultaneously occurring in British big business and that the parallels are indicative of trends in late nineteenth and early twentieth century business practices. Sadly, he writes like an academic and it was just very boring to read.
As I was leaving the Library, SugarDaddy called me and said that he was interested in going out later in the evening. I told him my plans and he said that he would definitely be interested.
I met him at the Freer Gallery of Art, a Smithsonian Institution museum, to see an independent film called The Magical Life of Long Tack Sam. He was a Chinese magician, juggler, acrobat, who played in vaudeville houses around the world. It was really good and quite interesting. I think that a lot could be done on him if he really is as important as the filmmaker (his great grand-daughter) says. I think I need to look more into him!
The film was preceded by two shorts, the first of which made absolutely no sense whatsoever. There is some guy preparing a dead woman for her viewing (I’m assuming) and a young boy is watching (I presume that he is the son). The mortician finishes clipping the corpse’s nails and washing the body. Then the boy asks to be alone, and when the mortician leaves, the boy picks up all the nail clippings. The scene cuts: it’s dark, so I assume it’s later, perhaps that night and the funeral is completed. We see in the darkness that we are in a kitchen and the boy comes in and opens the refrigerator. He is clad in sweats and tee shirt; I guess I’m meant to believe that he is ready for bed. He digs through the fridge, finds something wrapped in foil. He fixates for a moment on the aluminum-covered package, and just as he begins to open it, he scratches his head. (I wonder if this was planned or if he really had to scratch his head and the filmmaker just liked it.) He finally gets the foil off and it turns out to be a huge turkey leg. He begins to eat it slowly, then a little quicker. After another scratch on his noggin, he starts attacking the turkey leg, biting off pieces quicker and quicker. He never swallows or chews any of it. When his mouth is completely full he stops, leans his head back on the open refrigerator door, breathing heavily and wheezing. The credits roll.
The second short is actually by the same woman who wrote The Magical Life of Long Tack Sam (she is in the audience this evening incidentally). Before the films began, the filmmaker gave us a little background on this particular piece. She said that it was written and filmed shortly after the events of September 11, 2001. Because she was still working on The Magical Life of Long Tack Sam, this piece is heavily informed by that research, and it is a sister piece, so she is grateful that they are being shown together. The short is called Blue Skies, after the Irving Berlin song of the same title (from the play Betsy in 1926). This piece begins with a close of up of someone’s eye as tears pour out. The sound track is nothing more than this person sniffling, whimpering, and, making all those other irritating noises. Then the view cuts to a close-up on the person’s mouth. Then, to break the monotony, there is a knock at the door, and a white woman enters, goes to the crying person who we discover is Asian. The white woman pours water into a basin, and soaks some cloth. She wraps the crying person’s hair up, and begins to pull out clothing from drawers. She then helps dress the crying person, who is no longer crying, and finally pours a drink, the Asian person doesn’t drink until the white woman first sips it. There are scenes of the Asian person donning make-up: eyeliner, lip-gloss, and paint for eyebrows. The screen goes black, and with the sound of an old-time spotlight turning on, we see bright blue skies. Our Asian person, who turns out to be what I can only assume is an onnagata, appears and begins singing (well, lip-synching actually) Blue Skies as the credits roll.
After the movie, SugarDaddy and I decided to head out to Cleveland Park and have dinner at Ireland’s Four Provinces, or the 4-P’s as us yokels call it. I’m really not a big fan of the 4-P’s, but I haven’t been there in ages, so that’s where we go. Well, as is usually the case with Irish bars, there was a live band playing (The Sean Fleming Band to be exact). They were mediocre, but we stayed very late, and I consumed lots of beer. All in all it was a fun time.
Anyway, it’s almost 4 am and I need to go to sleep…peace out y’all.
brought to you by Procrastination.
I guess I should bring everyone up to speed on the graduate school front. Well, I spent all weekend (it was a long one thanks to Mr. Columbus) working on filling out the application in Adobe Elements to make it appear like I typed it. Alas, in the end it didn’t look good, so I’ve decided to neatly hand write the application. Since I have all the information already, I don’t expect it to take too long, and I plan on putting it in the mail on Saturday. I have finished the first draft of my proposal and now it needs to be vetted (assuming that everyone is willing to read it). I have already sent it to the ‘rents. A friend at work looked at it, and made some good suggestions. I will also ask the woman at the University of Manchester (she offered months ago), DC, Bobzilla, and perhaps DW. MO, the Greek, RC, and LtL have all already agreed to read it, so that is good news. So, I should have the whole application out of my hands by Saturday.
I haven’t done anything with the Royal Holloway application, but it’s all the same info, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Once I get the University of Manchester application in the mail, I will concentrate on the Royal Holloway one. Since Manchester is shaping up to be my first choice, I am focusing all my energy on that one.
MO first introduced me to Philip Larkin when I was in graduate school (the first time). As he (MO) will attest, I can never remember Larkin’s name. So, imagine my surprise when I was skimming Evl Redhead’s blog and came across one of Mr. Larkin’s poems.
Because I can never remember it, and because it’s a great poem that everyone should know, I have reproduced it in its entirety.
This Be The Verse
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.