Mar 21 2007
This is a special shout out to the guy who was driving the BMW behind me last night at around midnight with your brights on. And the bumper riding was awesome too. I hope it was as special for you as it was for me. All fifteen minutes of it. Thanks again.
Mar 21 2007
Welcome, gentle readers, to our new site. This one just, well, suits me better. I was gonna post a link to the old one, for my new viewers, but then I decided that I actually really liked the idea of a fresh start. Thanks for following me over here. Let’s have some fun!
Mar 20 2007
Hubby: ‘Twas Brillig? I don’t get it.
Me: You don’t get what?
Hubby: I don’t get the name of your blog.
Me: You know–”‘Twas Brillig, and the slithey toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe…”
Hubby: I still don’t get it.
Me: The Jabberwocky? Lewis Carroll? Alice in Wonderland? It’s a poem full of non-existent words, but as you read it you completely understand the meaning and the feeling of the poem. It feels like the words mean something, even though they’re really just nonsense. It’s funny, artistic, and mystical all at once.
Hubby: Okay, that’s kinda cool. But I don’t think anybody’s gonna get it.
Me: Really? I just sorta thought that everyone would get it! Maybe I’d better find a way to let them know, just in case…
And here’s the full text of the poem, just in case you’re interested…
(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought –
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’
He chortled in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
