Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Chris Matthews: West Point An 'Enemy Camp' Full Of 'Rabble'



But don't question their patriotism....

Actually, I give Matthews credit for at least being honest. Most of the Angry Left isn't.

A lil' poem about this sentiment...

TOMMY

I went into a public-’ouse to get a pint o’beer,
The publican ‘e up an’ sez, “We serve no red-coats here.”
The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die, I outs into the street again an’ to myself sez I:

O it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, go away”; But it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins,'’ when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it’s “Thank you, Mr. Atkins,'’ when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but ‘adn’t none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-’alls,
But when it comes to fightin’, Lord! they’ll shove me in the stalls!

For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, wait outside”;
But it’s “Special train for Atkins” when the trooper’s on the tide,
The troopship’s on the tide, my boys, the troopship’s on the tide,
O it’s “Special train for Atkins” when the trooper’s on the tide.

Yes, makin’ mock o’ uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an’ they’re starvation cheap;
An’ hustlin’ drunken soldiers when they’re goin’ large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin’ in full kit.

Then it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy how’s yer soul?”
But it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll.

We aren’t no thin red ‘eroes, nor we aren’t no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An’ if sometimes our conduck isn’t all your fancy paints:
Why, single men in barricks don’t grow into plaster saints;

While it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, fall be’ind,”
But it’s “Please to walk in front, sir,” when there’s trouble in the wind,
There’s trouble in the wind, my boys, there’s trouble in the wind,
O it’s “Please to walk in front, sir,” when there’s trouble in the wind.

You talk o’ better food for us, an’ schools, an’ fires an’ all:
We’ll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don’t mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow’s Uniform is not the soldier-man’s disgrace.

For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Chuck him out, the brute!” But it’s “Saviour of ‘is country,” when the guns begin to shoot;
An’ it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ anything you please;
But Tommy ain’t a bloomin’ fool - you bet that Tommy sees!

-Rudyard Kipling


('Tommy' is the Britspeak equivalent of our 'GI Joe')

UPDATE:Mess NBC'c chief blowhard got a number of what he refers to as 'tough calls' and had the common decency to admit he was out of line and apologize on the air.

Good. He needed to, badly.



1 comment:

Anonymous said...

At one point, being acquainted with Kipling, Tennyson, Lewis Carroll, Poe, Shelley, Keats, Byron, Mark Twain, Matthew Arnold, & other great Victorian & Edwardian writers was considered necessary as part of a typical education. I marvel sometimes at the ease with which quotes from Kipling & Tennyson could be dropped into programmes such as ' Lost In Space ' , a children's show of the 1960s. The writers were the product of a classically-educated school system. We were still expected to have at least a nodding acquaintance with French & Latin when I was a kid.

Unfortunately, the culture has sunk into a politically-correct slough wherein the race, age, sex, &, above all, the politics of the writer are the concerns of the current pathetic crop of academics. ( I once quoted Confucius, & a PC girl said to me : ' Why, he's just some white male, isn't he?! ' ! ) & the writing for Hollywood has sunk to the bottom of the barrel -- half-literate & nauseously politically correct. ( I am happy to say that I did not replace my old monochrome, B&W, Samsung ca 1982 ( yes, 1982!, inherited twice! ) television set when the digital conversion occurred. What I see when I travel tells me that I'm not missing much.

I am reminded, though, of a once-famous joke from the 1920s ( the Golden 20s or Roaring 20s ) : Naughty Boy says to girl : Do you like Kipling ? Girl responds : I don't know, you naughty boy. I've never Kippled !

-dragon/dinosaur