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Wednesday, April 17, 2019

Aesop Channel'd 'n' Chopp'd: Array Three



Commentary 

Also called "The Cock and the Pearl," this fable's "frills" are the gleanings of the field, seen by the cock as of value to him. The fool is, of course, the cock himself -- in not recognizing the greater value of his chance discovery.


Its Perry Index number is #503 


Like "Belling the Cat," "The Dog in the Manger" is well known, whether as fable, metaphor or meme.  


Its Perry Index number is #703.

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Aesop Channel'd 'n' Chopp'd: Array Two















Commentary

Attributed to Aesop but probably best classified outside

the Aesopic canon, this fable, also called "The Mice in Council" is widely known.

Its number in the Perry Index is #613.


The referent for the 'you' whom the fabulist admonishes remains vague.

Monday, April 15, 2019

Aesop Channel'd 'n' Chopp'd: a Constrained Illustrated ABC in Meter and Rhyme Recording an Imagined Conversation Between Aesop the Fabulist and Homer the Bard as Displayed in 17 Four-panel Arrays, Including Commentaries: Array One -- Plus a Cross Reference of the Perry Index Numbers to the Lopp'd Verses









Commentary

If a word or phrase, including the title of a particular fable, is unfamiliar and the commentary adjacent to each array provides no explication, try
Googling the word or phrase. 

'
Multinash' is a newly coined abbreviation of the author's own creation meaning  'multinational.' Such an individual (a multinash, not the author, of course) might well elect to spell 'Aesop' using an Old English ash and a Hebrew shin as his arch accompaniment to a Greek omicron and pi

The Attic Greek "Andra moi ennepe Mu-" are the opening seven syllables of Homer's epic The Odyssey, an anticipatory plagiarism of the  Latin "Arma virumque cano" septet of Vergil's The Aeneid. Both are no-nonsense works of verbal art in contradistinction to the silliness reproduced here. 

The German 'mit' and the English abbreviation 'litt' add to the multinational character of this opening array, as the French 'fou' does as well, while standing for 'fun.'

The physiognomy of Aesop's bust is based on a reading the The Aesop Romance, a compilation of several old vitae, which reveals the fabulist to have been one singularly unattractive storyteller. The bust of Homer appears to  feature several facial characteristics of a certain animated cartoon personality.


The meter in this and throughout the other arrays is in dactyls, with lots of end- and internal rhymes.


(Appearing below are the Perry Index numbers corresponding to the fables of which the alphabet’s lopp’d verses, also appearing below, are the constrained treatments.)   


Array One: A: Aesop the Fabulist, from The Aesop Romance.
     A is for Aesop…’tis I! 
“Multinash”? Spell it ‘ash, shin’…plus ‘omicron, pi’!
Hear we “Andra moi ennepe Mu-…”?
Not one whit! Here sits lit writ wit’ wit…mit litt’ bits fit for fou.



Array Two: B: Belling the Cat aka The Mice in Council, from Perry #613.

     B’s for my “Belling the Cat.”

Point…?
To say’s not to do! (Dudes like
you must know that.)

Array Three: C: The Cock and the Jewel aka The Cock and the Pearl, from Perry #503,
and D: The Dog in the Manger, from Perry #703.
     C…? My “The Cock and the Jew’l.”
What’s its gist…? Who’d persist fetchin’ frills finds…a fool.
D’s my “The Dog in the Manger.”
Who’d accrue without usin’…? “Gr-r-r-r-!”s any cur stranger…?

Array Four: E: Ennus, adopted son of Aesop, from The Aesop Romance.
     E is for Ennus, my “scion.”
Me Enn jailed.
Oui! Enn failed.
Enn’s no gens I’d rely on.

Array Five: F: The Fawn and his Mother, from Perry #351,
and G: The Gnat and the Bull, from Perry #137.
     F’s my “The Faun and his Mother.”
No raison favors fight – not when flight be one’s druther.
G’s my “The Gnat and the Bull.
‘Tis too true: you’re just you. Let not pride pull the wool.

Array Six: H: The Hare and the Tortoise, from Perry #226.
     H…? My “The Hare and the Tortoise.”
Read ‘n’ weep:
Never sleep!
Are we thinkin’ Abe Fortas…?

Array Seven: I: The Idol of Clay, from Perry #285.
     I’s my “The Idol of Clay.”
Shan’t be troll’d, t pot [rau tjpigj upi ,ay.
Pours out gold when you break it one day.
(It appears the god hears – in his roundabout way.)

Array Eight: J: Jove and the Monkey, from Perry #364,
and K: The King of the Frogs, from a later version of Perry #44.
     J’s for my “Jove and the Monkey.”
Please to note: one’s son’s haut, be he fair-form’d or funky.
K’s for “The King of the Frogs.”
Lesson…? Don’t for storks sue. Do make do with god’s logs.

Array Nine: L: The Lion in Love, from Perry #140.
     L’s my “The Lion in Love.”
Be that passion’s
irrational
cognizant of!

Array Ten: M: The Miser’s Lost Gold, from Perry #225 (?).
     M’s my “The Miser’s Lost gold.”
Nick’d: the lot! Nor would Cott* be cajol’d.
“Still…” folks thought, “naught got bought, naught got sold…
What’s amiss…?” Merely this: not one dinar’d he doled!  
     * Cotta’s the archetypal miser in A. Pope’s satirical epistle.

Array Eleven: N: The Neat’s Tongues Adventure, from The Aesop Romance,
and O: The Old Man and Death, from Perry #60.
     N…? My “The Neats’s Tongues Adventure,”
when our gallant’s droll talents proved awkward to censure.
O’s my “The Old Man and Death.”
Don’t invite cure by Death. Death’s for shite. Save your breath.

Array Twelve: P: The Peacock and Juno, from Perry #509,
and Q: The Quack Frog: a Fable, from Perry #289.
     P…? My “The Peacock and Juno.”
On can’t have it all. Folks will call one…well…you know.
Q’s my “The Quack Frog: a Fable.”
First, docteur: thyself cure – or deserve that ‘quack’ label.

Array Thirteen: R: The Raven a Swan – from Perry #398,
and S: The Stag at the Pool – from Perry #73.
     R’s my “The Swan and the Raven.”
Change of scene doesn’t mean that one gets all one’s cravin.’
S…? My “The Stage at the Pool.”
Don’t write off that which oft proves a life-savin’ tool.

Array Fourteen: T: The Thieves and a Cock, from Perry #122,
and U: The United Four Oxen, from Perry #372.
     T’s my “The Thieves ‘n’ a Cock.”
Your belief that a thief won’t undo you…? A crock!
U…? “The Four Oxen, United.”
Graze alone, on your own…? Quick demise you’re invitin.'

Array Fifteen: V: The Vine and the Goat, from Perry #374,
and W: Wolf and the Kid, from Perry #159 (?)
     V is “The Vine ‘n’ the Goat.”
Break your fast: who’ll laugh last when’s laid open your throat…?
W’s “Wolf ‘n’ the Kid”:
Actin’ smart ain’t no art when one’s cautiously hid.

Array Sixteen: X: Xanthus, Aesop’s master, from The Aesop Romance,
and Y: A Youth and his Mother, from Perry #364.
     X is for Xanthus, my Master.
Had slave not been my lotm would’ve my pastures proved vaster?
Y’s my “A Youth ‘n’ His Mother.”
Raise your child to run wild…? He’ll grow up as no other.

Array Seventeen: Z: The Zephyr/Sol War, from The North Wind and the Sun, Perry #46.
     Z…? My “The Zephyr/Sol War.”
What beats force…?
Well, of course, exhortation will…
…or…
   
  

Monday, April 8, 2019

Bananagraffe on W O R D S

Meet Ms. Diana Dors!
She lives down Rotten Row
and best be censur'd -- or
licentious oats she'll sow.

As flights of ducks (a sord)
ascend as does the Dow,
her passions also do,
as do her hackles. Ow!

Meet Dangerfield -- young Rod --
but credit not his word:
"I'm unlike other Rods."
He'll perish by the sword.

Then, planted in the sod
among long bone-yard rows,
that silly so-'n'-so
shall burst forth. Mark my words!

Monday, April 1, 2019

A...B...C...D...-ump: Monorhymes & Monomaniacs: a Nonsense Alphabet

"'Til Terminated,
T's Thoughts Turn, 
Time and Time
 Again, to Trump" 
#2 pencil on
photocopy paper,
cropped and 
digitally modified
4" x 4"


     A 'toon be Mrs. Andy Gump.
Poor broad's puss? Paw'd by randy Trump.
     Behold Beyoncé's baby bump!
Who owns that ova? Maybe Trump?
     Can clods compact to form a clump?
They can! They forge abnorma' Trump.
     Deck MAGA hats the city dump?
Hell! Hoard$ got hawk'd. Don't pity Trump! 
     El Presidente's effing plump.
A fool's vain errand: reffing Trump.
     Fine frauen? Trump's wed three (no frump).
All speak no...hear no...see no Trump!
    "Good golly, Papa's such a grump."
(Young Barron thinks not much o' Trump.)
     Hides bigly hair a midget's hump?
Who pillages the fridge? It's Trump!      
   Ivanka's Da's scores? In a slump.
Says she, "You still my winna,' Trump."
   Jared Kushner's cryin,' "Jump!"
At Mueller? Nope! At Lyin' Trump.
     Kill the ref! Then kill the ump!
(Then kill, as well, that filthy Trump.)
   Lymphoma! Look: a tiny lump.
What's next? Cue weepy, whiney Trump!
   Melange o' cysts -- cysts on his rump.
Who owns those mumps? Dishonest Trump.
  N 
  O 
  P 
  Q 
  R 
  S 
  T
  U
  V 
  W 
  X 
  Y
  Z

Friday, March 29, 2019

Sestinable, or, How, On First Looking Into Bishop's Quinti-Sensual "Sestina," I Composed My Own Queer De-Sensical Sestina: a Tutouliporial of Sorts

Here are combinations of the letters O P S T. The six forming words, used as end words in the sestina, are in underlined italics.

S P O T    P O T S    O T P S    T S O P     S P T O    P O S T    O T S P    T S O P
S O P T    P T O S    O S T P    T P O S     S O T P    P T S O    O S P T    T P S O
S T O P    P S O T    O P T S    T O S P     S T P O    P S T O    O P S T    T O P S

Typically, sestina end words aren't anagrams of each other. That this sestina's are is but one characteristic distinguishing it from less rigorous examples of the form.

Here each of the six end words is assigned a numeral: 'opts' > 1  'post' > 2   'stop' > 3   'tops' > 4   'pots' > 5   'spot' > 6

Here are the sequences in which the words will be permuted through the lines of the six stanzas.

1  2  3  4  5  6 first stanza    6  1  5  2  4  3 second stanza    3  6  4  1  2  5 third stanza
5  3  2  6  1  4 fourth stanza    4  5  1  3  6  2 fifth stanza    2  4  6  5  3  1 sixth stanza

Here are the six stanzas, plus the three lines of the envoi. Note that all lines are in alexandrines and that the whole, with the inclusion of the envoi, forms an acrostic. Note as well that the envoi employs all six end words both at ends of lines and internally halfway through each line.

So: Phoppe, who'd cop to "Best Sestin'er Ever," opts
to score 'n' share three pair o' anagrams on 'post.'
What's more, he'd bare such fare -- nor there'd he stop,
but, totting, syst'matize (verse-wise, sum guys be tops)
this list, then scribbl'it down. (Clowns flush theirs down pals' pots,
so hectorors their feckless anagrams won't spot.) 

Exhibits Phoppe his heartware. Where? You'll know the spot:
Ru'de l'Oulipo, where each sestina author opts
to rake in (po'try's play'd like poker) all the pots.
He'd do it, too, were he to, on some off site, post
these "piroulipolettes" (his verse? Like spinning tops)
to collocate, curl, gyrate, twirl -- nor ne'er to stop. 

Touts query Phoppe, when on his blog they chance to stop,
while fancy'ng not to put the poe' boy on the spot,
yet blown away how homeboy players' licks he tops
(though not, when each round's won, to lick his chops he opts):
"How so: your pluprose shows up in The Denver Post,
whose pages peddle pablum'd prose -- plus pans 'n' pots?"

To parry pryers' pot shots -- mots Phoppe knows as 'pots' --
he'll let roam po'ms where're, Lord knows, nor never stop
composing -- not (riposte) composting -- 'em, then post-
ing 'em on Fou.com (for Nonsense, 'tis THE spot.
I'm wont to note: Der Phoppster, on occasion, opts
to smoke each po'm -- each toke (no joke) in lieu of Tops.)

Inhaling verse? Which Joes won't curse -- gross'd, toes to tops.
This even when Verlaine (the fave of whose? Pol Pot's)
goes up in smoke. Yup, jokester Phoppe, a loner, opts
to torch the French Romantics, though the cops cry, "Stop!"
Phoppe's lot -- Jane, Puff, Dick, Mother, Baby Sally, Spot --
rue scorching art. (Elsewise, though? Dumber than a post.)

Now omega looms; green rooms grown dim. The noon post
lies, unread, in stacks unshreded. Table tops
o'erflow with letters dead. Each missive bears this spot:
tre nightshades noir, ones never made by flame-scorch'd pots.
And although Phoppe, who, sensing denoument, shouts, "Stop,"
he chooses to continue -- like he always opts.

At close o' show, who'd spot a poetaster opts
to sift hot sand for potsherds Classic (pre- or post-),
and classify Phoppe "TOPS" -- and cherish Phoppe full stop. 
                                                


Monday, March 25, 2019

Hommage á Gorey





Here' it is: the director's cut of Hommage á Gorey. (An earlier version, posted last May, 
has mysteriously discombobulated. Oh, these tiresome comput-a-machines!) To those 
who viewed it the first time around we say, "It's back, baby, and better than ever." 
To those who've never viewed it we say, "Avanti, Monte!" To both mobs we say, 
"Leave a comment or a question at jhiggins27@verizon.net -- and be quick about it...
please."

Thursday, March 21, 2019

Potential Profiles in Textiles

TV Bad Dude Mr. Tea 
Former First Son-in-law Jared Cushioner 

Theatrical Polymath Noel Cowhide 
Singer Johnny Cashmere 
Playwright George Bernard Shawl 

Actor Cloth Rains
Actress Canvas Bergen 
Minimalist Composer Philip Glassine 

Dr. Martin Loofah King, Jr. 
Actor Benedict Cumberbund
Astronomer Neil deGrasse Ties

Actor Denzel Washantung 
President BarRag Obama
Greek Philosopher Socksrates

Monday, March 18, 2019

ShakesBeer: Three Act III, Scene I Beverage Coasters

 "Et tu, Brew?" 
Julius Caesar 
Act III, Scene I
"A keg on both your houses!"
Romeo and Juliet 
Act III, Scene I

"To beer or not to beer..."
Hamlet 
Act III, Scene I

Sunday, March 17, 2019

Dantegrams (and a Mobygram) for St. Paddy's Day

Midway on the journey of our life
we jury found the oily moon arife.
One pony an' a well be there? Oh, dear!
Abandon hope, all ye who enter here!

Midway on the journey of our life
we jury found the oily moon afire.
Need no owl be here? Nah! Altho' a pyre...
(Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.)

Call me Ishmael.
Mail me a "C" shell.

Friday, March 15, 2019

Go Figurata!

Hand Book or My Manualphabet: Verses Embodying a Carmina Figurata 























An artist’s hand impersonates: it’s counterfeiting life. A bachelor’s hand procrastinates: it’s disinclined to wife.
The Christ’s hand grins ‘n’ bears it as Delilah’s hand deceives. An empty hand? It supplicates. A four-in-hand inweaves.
Guidonian hands elaborate Mnemosyne with runes. An hour hand meanders through one's endless afternoons.
Does Israel Hands bear malice? Yes, though Horner’s hand would play, whilst Karloff’s hand dehydrates and your left leads me astray.
A mojo hand infatuates, its victims paralyzed. Napoleon’s hand dissimulates, its hubris well disguised.
An open hand calumniates. A penn’d hand signifies. A Qainchi hand embellishes. A read hand prophesies.
A sever’d hand vituperates, its future’s come to grief. A tether’d hand excruciates, despairing of relief.
An underhand informs against. A vampire’s hand garrote's. A waving hand dismisses. A xanthoma’d hand? All spots.
A yogi’s hand surrenders: its beginning is its end. Then Zeus’s hand cracks down on me, though bidding me, “Transcend!”

Litany Chanted Over Schrödinger's Box

Is he dead yet...? 'Yes' or 'No'...?  All'd 'God Bless!' if 'Yes,' you know.  Is he dead yet...? Don...