Sunday, September 18, 2005

Scene Three

[Scene 3. Enter Dynamo and eCache.]

Dynamo: Hearest thou the news last week, Cache?

eCache: I heard little else.

Dynamo: They shall debate; Forrester, Corzine, and two others.

eCache: Shall it be the five, or only four?

Dynamo:
Some say five, but recently I see
New report that four shall be contested,
Though all four men may not contest each time.

eCache:
If so, dost think that ethics shall be raised?
This bodes ill for Corzine, ‘twere it known.

[Enter other bloggers from the concert.]

Nightfly: What cheer, friends?

Dynamo: The Carnival is here?

Enlighten: We had mind to travel. So, what news?

eCache: We spoke of the debates for Governor.

Enlighten:
Ah, the statehouse. I fear Forrester
Shalt lose; and Corzine cannot cure
Ethics problems in the several towns,
Having them himself. Within the schools
Administrator’s salaries are flush
While education wanes.

Tammany: Speak thou of Epps?

Enlighten:
The very man. But what is this? XPat?
Did you not stay behind? Hast caught us up?

Tammany:
Even so, but under separate guise;
And under separate blogs doth post my thoughts -
The one for local matters, such as this.
I’d rather Mr. Epps donate some pay
To those in blind Katrina’s murd’rous wake.

Mr. Snitch:
I never cease to wonder at the blogs.
The local papers, senseless, stand aside
From blogs – from local writers, in the streets
And towns, who watchful-waking make their blogs
A home for local news. A sterling source
Of readers, talent, time, goes thus unused.

Nightfly:
The night draws on, and morning opens fast
Upon the starry backdrop. Even I,
Who never was an early-rising fly,
Must soon away. Yet we have not heard all.

Enlighten:
Some bloggers haven’t made the time to call;
Others, writing late, must wait a week.

Nightfly:
Loathe am I to miss their chance to speak.
If any have not made the Carnival,
A link├ęd message to this post withal
Shall serve. What sight is this? A city road
Bright orange?

Tata:
Therein lies a curious tale.
Forsooth, I rather wished to paint my home;
But, hasty-late, and with my injured arm,
One can dislodged and tumbled to the ground.
We hoped to clean the spill with litter mix,
And made it worse.

Mr. Snitch: One hardly notices.

Tata: Go to! ‘Tis a sticky orange mess!

[Enter Pink Panther.]

Nightfly:
Is this our erstwhile hostess? Welcome back!
We had not hoped to see you for the week,
But, returning unlooked-for, do tell
Of your adventures. What's the news?

Pink:
With
work and classes crowding close upon,
I feared to find the time to post these links.
But lo! I come with some exciting news!

Nightfly: Hast saved on car insurance?

Pink: I'm in love!

Enlighten: But soft! Look at the time!

Mr. Snitch: It's getting late!

Nightfly: I've got to wash my car.

Pink: At 2 A.M.?

Nightfly: Well - aye, marry! 'Tis most untidy brown.

Pink: Men!

[Exuent.]

[Next week, Joe's Journal hosts (we all hope!) Sorry this is late, but Blogger really bit the wax tadpole tonight - pages wouldn't load, and since half of us are hosted on Blogger, this meant not being able to link, upload, read, or much of anything. Thanks for your patience!]

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