Re: Northern pricipality

[Rutlands@aol.com]

Poster: Rutlands@aol.com

In a message dated 98-02-17 16:46:17 EST, you write:

<< 
 Poster: "duane moore" <brycedebyram@hotmail.com>
 
 Here's one view, 
 See you all at the next meeting,
 Bryce de Byram
 
 A Sirventes for the North
 
 Old Coeur Noir's time draws near,
 and the winds of change blow Northernly.
 Rumblings resonate across the land,
 carried waves as messanger
                              ...Mess-E-nger. 
 speak of "when's" not "if's."
 
 A house would be divided,
 and friends brought to blows
                             ..As when Atlantia went Principality, no doubt.
 if like Solomen,
                           M-e-n?  More than one Solomon? Or just more feeling
than research?

 we half the child,
                         Half?  Within poetic limits, but are you sure you
don't want to say "halve"?

 to appease the parents.
                          O man O man, when's the last time you read the
Bible?  Two women, harlots, lived together; both had children of harlotry; one
died; each woman claimed the living as her own.  The question that was asked
of Solomon was-- whose baby was it?  Solomon gave the order to divide the
child in front of both women, to provoke a reaction.  One said, Divide it,  it
shall not be hers nor mine; the other said, No, give it to the other woman,
but don't kill it.  Solomon declared that the latter was the true mother, and
gave the (whole) baby to her.
 
 I sit by the James
                     This is James of Rutland, and I'm NOT going to use the
obvious openings here...

 with breath baited;
                    Eating sushi again?

 saddened to see
 the player with vested hand,
                      Did you have anyone in mind up here who is NOT vested?

 only too quick to withdraw.
 
 For when thrones and powers unchecked stand
 promised as visitors at the door;
 It is easy to see why
 some would rather hold a empty field,
                                  AN empty field, O Literate One.  And the
last I looked, it wasn't.  What do we lack, that our field is empty? 

 than cower underneath a Lion.
                     Which has been in the past the very example of thrones
and powers unchecked... And are you making the allusion that this is, shall we
say, anti-Lion?  I seem to recall the beginning of this being about 3 weeks
BEFORE this last Crown.  

 
 But let not the craftsman labor
 without the arrow-strait guidance of a Master.
                    Is this another misspelling?  "Straight" means one thing;
"strait"  as a noun I won't go into, but as an adjective it means (to quote
Webster's 20th Century Unabridged), "...narrow, close, contracted, not broad,
tight, confined...difficult; distressing; mean; stingy.."  It is the "strait"
in "strait jacket"...  O my, such guidance!

 Let not the South's fertile fields wither 
 without the healing touch
 of drops of rain.
                           ...To misquote Candide, try setting your own hand
to make your gardens grow...
 
 And fighting men lack the example, 
 the prowess and skill
 of teachers girded round with glory;
 of Houses of method, of chivalry
 numbered and chained.
                           What, are there none down there?
 
 For as each bee works
 for the hive's gain;
 So do the good works
 of scores of loyal northern subjects
 flow sweetly for Atlantia's harvest.
                                      And there's nothing coming from the
South, hm?  I know that isn't what you meant but it's certainly what you
sounded like.  It sounds like a better analogy is an anthill.  The soldiers
are so specialized to fight that they cannot feed themselves.   And --ask your
lady-- hives can and do swarm, which is, given that both divisions are strong,
a perfectly good way to get more hives...more honey.  
 
 I swear by the Moon,
 the Cross and Lily,
                              Hm, covering all bases...

 that we shall see Stonewalls broken
 and Hallowed Rocks and Hills leveled
 by the quiet fury of this storm.
 
 Friend, send out this song to our King,
 and to the silent hands that move beneath the groaning board;
                                              A novel way to serve, but hardly
practical...

 that I see naught but grief
 for the father that sunders his land
 for the inheritance of a prodigal son.
                              Does that mean that a non-prodigal son, being
wise and providing for the future, should not distance himself from said
prodigal? Or that a good steward should not divide a windswept field with a
hedgerow that more things may grow therein in the absence of the wind?   
 
     Bryce, I  like you as a person, but this poem was loaded with things that
just aren't so.  All this is doing is drawing one more imaginary border,
which already exists in fuzzy theory or people couldn't refer to "the North"
"the middle" and/or "the South".  It is NOT making a new kingdom.  It is NOT
erecting roadblocks.  It is NOT directed at any one person.  It's a majority
of people up here seeing what it is we want to do-- and we're nowhere near
seeing it yet.  We won't know anything until votes are counted.  And that's
the determining factor;  the Society is a game played by X-many people in a
country (the USA, not Atlantia) founded on representation and self-
determination.  If Local Branches X, Y, and Z choose to regionalize, that is
their privilege--their "privus legis"- private law.  If they see a need to
regionalize, then address that need;  if they see gain in the change,  first
determine if that gain is others' loss before you complain.  And then state
your position simply and clearly.   The easiest reply to poetry is sarcasm,
which I do enjoy, but it doesn't make for good discussion of issues of
substance.      Sincerely, James of Rutland, writing as a private individual
in Highland Foorde.
      
 
 
 
 
 
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