A Difficulty with Priorities
(to the tune of Gilbert & Sullivan's 'Ruler of the Queens Navy')

When I was a lad I had a germ
Of interest in everything that I might learn
So I set up Windows on my hard disk core
And logged onto the internet to learn some more

[He logged on to the internet to learn some more]

I followed web links so care freely
That now I am addicted to the ‘bakery.

[He followed web links so care freely
That now he is addicted to halfbakery]

Baking, I found, was quite a lark
And I joined the other ‘bakers in the land of CARK
The time thus spent was more than planned
But I never go out anyway to get sun-tanned.

[He never goes out anyway to get sun-tanned].

I enjoyed myself enormously
And now I am addicted to the ‘bakery

[He enjoyed himself enormously
And now he is addicted to halfbakery]

My evenings all became the same
My free time always spent upon the baking game
As a long term baker of good repute
I posted many ideas that I thought would suit

[He posted many ideas that he thought would suit]

I posted ideas so copiously
That now I am addicted to the ‘bakery.

[He posted ideas so copiously
That now he is addicted to halfbakery]

On real life slowly I lost my grip
And passed all the hours on a ‘bak’ry trip
On going out I was not keen
And I wouldn’t give you tuppence for the social scene

[He wouldn’t give you tuppence for the social scene]

Reclusive life so suited me
That now I am addicted to the ‘bakery.

[Reclusive life so suited he
That now he is addicted to halfbakery].

For days on end at the keyboard bent
I’ve never really worried ‘bout the time I’ve spent
And new ideas, I read them all
And barely notice passing of the time at all.

[He doesn’t notice passing of the time at all]

I browse so long, I miss my tea
And now I am addicted to the ‘bakery

[He browses so long, he misses his tea
And now he is addicted to halfbakery]

Now ‘bakers all, whoever you may be
To avoid the fate of this ‘net zombie
And fight the lure of the ‘bak’ry’s pull
Be careful to be guided by this golden rule

[Be careful to be guided by this golden rule]

Switch off your brain, love daytime TV
And you’ll never get addicted to the ‘bakery!

[Switch off your brain, love Oprah Winfrey
And you’ll never get addicted to the ‘bakery!]


Invented by the French (Poem No.3)

Computers and airplanes, the First World War trench.
Cars, busses and railroads, hand built by the French.

The value of pi and the humble park bench.
Spaghetti and lamb chops, all made by the French.

Cartoons and pop music, the adjustable wrench,
TV and torpedoes, invented by French.

Real ale and cast iron and the fine, buxom wench,
The phone and the Walkman, brainchilds of the French.

“But how,” you may ask, “can I prove they are French?”
Well just take a sniff at their faint garlic stench.


Poem No.2

Scrolling through the ‘bakery,
Reading the ideas,
Taking in the annos,
All the boos and all the cheers.
Some of them are practical
And some of them are witty,
And all of them inspired me
To write this little ditty.


The Ravings of an Eedjit (Poem No.1)

I met a surfer from a half-baked site
Who said: One croissant and a pile of bones
Stand by my idea. And beneath, in harsh anno’s,
half sunk, my shattered posting lies, whose prose
And spelling poor, and mix of many tense
Tell that its author was not well read.
Which yet survive, writ on the world wide web,
By pedants mocked and newbies shred;
And on my posting these words appear:
“We should use nanobots, and GM tech;
Why can’t we all just learn to share?”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
of that vast WIBNI, heated and terse,
The flames stretch down the page.


[Jun 27 2000, last modified May 29 2024]