'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 maxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.
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.
"Has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Calloh! 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.

Some day, some people you don’t know might get spittin’ mad at each other.
you won’t have a ****** thing to do with it.
But one morning while you discuss equality at a café on Wilshire
you might hear a terrible
BOOM
In the middle of the city
And you could spill your fair-trade iced coffee
All over your Egyptian cotton clothes.
you might be able to make it home to see
If your purebred cats are not dead
But most likely you won’t get so far.
your ice might melt,
Don’t you know?
And your faucet might leak.
your apartment could be an ocean
And nobody would care.
You might try to get away
But everyone else will do the same
And you might puff up like the Chilean Blob,
And maybe your hair will come out in tufts
And you’ll possibly die with your legs stuck out at obscene angles
On a gum-dappled sidewalk,
Ashes and fallout whiffling down around your snow-angel death scene.
Mushroom cloud don’t care how civilized you is.

Over the muttering, a sputtering candle is down to the quick
Flashing and flickering, the wick goes out

Rumbling skies threaten with scowling fingers of unappeased gods
Grey hairs curling in rage at eviction from Olympus
The sky then screams in a tumultuous rage:
A sacrifice is dire and desperately needed.

A maiden-green tree implores to above,
silently surrendering still arches
as she kneels in the earth, longer than any man has lived.
Cleaved by a fissure of light from something dark and then
a tremdous clap, thundering and thrashing
the towering tree, goes down, face flat.
A mother to decay she will become.

The rain drums into the humming hills, running down the mountainside.
It ruthlessly rushes tearing away grainy earth,
bouncing and bubbling in crevices galore,
turning all green and lush in an awakening as old as age.
The hills inhale blue and green.
Buds will flower, petals will die
but an end to all is not nigh

Don't ask - If that was there in the 1950's...
Chances are, it was.

Don't ask - Where the Jabberwock is...
It is currently whiffling through the Tulgey wood.

Don't ask - What normal is...
We don't give a Tumtum tree.

Don't ask - What a Bandersnatch is...
We've been arguing about that since the 1950's.

Don't ask - About our Gallbladders...
It's one thing we have in common.

Don't ask - How to get Raymond started on European history...
He'll do it himself.

Don't ask - How to say thank you...
Just flick the cat off you tongue and get it over with.

'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 hast 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.

RECORD: 2 + 2 = 5
FROGMAN: RaiDIhO HEAD

***** Wonka: ... There's no Hearthly way of knowing
                         Which way they are growing.
                         There's no knowing where they're toe-ing.

Mr. Salt: [weakly echoing] Toe-ing...

***** Wonka: Or which way thought streams'a'flowin.
                          Is it braining, is it storming?
                          Is a braining-storm a'blowin'?

[sharp rasp] ***** Wonka: Not a speck of light is showing
                                                So the anger must be growing
                                                Are the fires of passion a'glowing?
                                                Is the grimsly leader mowing?
                                                Yes! The anger must be growing
                                                'Cause the toe-ers keep on throwing

[practically stcreaming] ***** Wonka: And they're certainly not showing
                                                         ­           Any sign that they are slowing!

[lets out a high-pitched, almost unHearthly stcream]

Dr. Frodrick Fronkensteen: Throw!... the Hearth Switch!

eyeGore: [shocked] Not the Hearth Switch!

And, while sparks flew across the slab,
The Number 5, with lies and tame,
Came whiffling through the Tulgey Lab,
And burbled as it came!"
-- Lewis Carroll

Suzy's: It halted,
            and it gurgled The QCuloween's Trademark Seal,

"I'm just Around 5 foot 9, and weigh a buck ninety-fine!"

STOP: TURN THOUGHT

'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.

'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 Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwocky, 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 it's head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast 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.

-Lewis Carroll