The Special Category

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901


HANDY TIPS FOR LIFE (Men AND Women)

DIETING TIP:
Lose weight quickly by eating raw pork or rancid tuna. The subsequent food poisoning/diarrhea
will enable you to lose twelve pounds in only two days.

FINANCE TIP:
Save on electricity by turning off all the lights in your house and walking around wearing
a miner's hat.

FINANCE TIP:
Save on gas by pushing your car to your destination. Invariably passers-by will think
you've broken down and come over to help you.

HOUSEHOLD TIP:
Drill a small, one inch diameter hole in your refrigerator door. This will allow you to
check that the light goes off when the door's closed. Clever, eh?

HOUSEHOLD TIP:
Old telephone directories make ideal address books, simply by crossing out the names and
addresses of people you don't know (or maybe even want to know).

INEXPENSIVE ENTERTAINMENT:
At work, put decaf in the coffee maker for three weeks. And once everyone has gotten over
their caffeine addiction you may switch over to much cheaper espresso.

INEXPENSIVE ENTERTAINMENT:
Buy a television set exactly like your neighbors. Then annoy them by standing just outside
their window and changing channels using your identical remote control. Magic!

INEXPENSIVE ENTERTAINMENT:
During rush hour, sit comfortably in your parked car and point a hair dryer at passing cars.
See if they get to slow down.


INEXPENSIVE ENTERTAINMENT:
Fool other car drivers into thinking you have an expensive car phone by holding an old TV
or a video remote control up to your ear, and occasionally swerving across the road.

INEXPENSIVE ENTERTAINMENT:
Putting just the right amount of gin in your goldfish bowl makes the fishes' eyes redden and
bulge in response, and causes them to swim in an odd, eccentric, most amusing manner.

AND:
When money comes out the ATM, shout: 'OOH, WOW! OOH LOOK! SEE, SEE, I WON! Excellent!
Third time this week!'

PARKING TICKETS:
Dodge lousy parking tickets by discreetly leaving your windscreen wipers turned to 'fast wipe'
when you leave your car parked illegally.

PERSONAL HYGIENE:
Impatient? No time for a bath? No shower? Wrap yourself in tape and shift the loosened dirt
by quickly peeling it off in seconds.

TRAVELING TIPS (I):
Do not bother to pack liquid shampoo in bulky bottles which can leak in your suitcase. Do plan
ahead. Con the whole family beforehand into getting easier, 'skinhead' haircuts here, a day or
two before departure.

(II)
When motoring anywhere, always turn left. Then, if you should be lost, well, you can soon
confidently find your way back home by reversing the procedure, and always turning right.

SAFETY TIP:
Do fasten your shoe laces responsibly, and certainly do it indoors. Caution: NEVER in a
revolving door.

902
THE LISTENERS
A Poem by Walter de la Mare

‘Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest’s ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveller’s head:
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.
But no one descended to the Traveller;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveller’s call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
’Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote on the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:—
‘Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word,’ he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.


THE OLD FARTS
Mutton Geoff

'Er, is anyone there?' said Ted Elverton,
To the back of his wife's head.
Seven times he'd asked her what was for dinner,
(She was either deaf or dead).
Even though he was six feet behind her,
He still could not make her hear,
So he stepped two paces forward, and four feet to her rear;
'Er, is anyone there?' he asked.
No reply there came from Nannette Elverton,
As she stood at the old kitchen sink.
'Oh, what's for dinner, Nannette?' he sighed,
(Christ, her hearing truly does stink!)
No reply came forth, so on he pressed,
To only three feet behind.
'Nannette,' he stressed, 'I long for some fodder,
'And what is topmost in my mind,
'Is the thing you've prepared on the culinary front,
'That you still seem unwilling to state,'
Then another step forward he toddled,
Only two steps behind his mate;
Sort of drew a long breath, then he hollered,
'I've got this harsh pang in my gut!
'Tell me the dinner that you plan to cook,
'For my belly thinks my throat's been cut!
Still no answer at all from his old lady love,
As she cracked on fast, doing the food,
'I keep on shouting,' he sighed, 'Lord above!
'It seems that I shout in vain;
'Hello, Nannette?' he hollered, "Hello?"
'You're really quite an old pain!'
Now, level behind her, old Ted hollered right in her ear:
'I'm gaggin' to eat so, again...
'Nannette, oh gosh, tell me first -WHAT'S FOR NOSH!'
She turned, her cheeks all red and hot;
'Bangers 'n' mash, hell I've told you ten times!
'Are you soddin' deaf, Ted, or what?'

903


Poema VIII
(written by Pablo Neruda)

Abeja blanca zumbas --ebria de miel-- en mi alma
y te tuerces en lentas espirales de humo.

Soy el desesperado, la palabra sin ecos,
el que lo perdió todo, y el que todo lo tuvo.

Ultima amarra, cruje en ti mi ansiedad última.
En mi tierra desierta eres la última rosa.

Ah silenciosa!

Cierra tus ojos profundos. Allí aletea la noche.
Ah desnuda tu cuerpo de estatua temerosa.

Tienes ojos profundos donde la noche alea.
Frescos brazos de flor y regazo de rosa.

Se parecen tus senos a los caracoles blancos.
Ha venido a dormirse en tu vientre una mariposa de sombra.

Ah silenciosa!

He aquí la soledad de donde estás ausente.
Llueve. El viento del mar caza errantes gaviotas.

El agua anda descalza por las calles mojadas.
De aquel árbol se quejan, como enfermos, las hojas.

Abeja blanca, ausente, aún zumbas en mi alma.
Revives en el tiempo, delgada y silenciosa.

Ah silenciosa!


Poem - A Recollection
(adjusted translation)

A pale bee buzzes in my soul, overcome,
and decelerates in delirious spirals.

I am dejected, deflated, depressed.
A morose sound echoes:
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaooooooooo
I have lost all that I acquired.

A cable of a ship squeals in longing,
For a desolate land, and a Java rose.

Oh, silent one!

Let sleepless eyes adjourn.
A night moon illuminates a statue, embarrassed and nude.

Deep eyes could meet a summer evening,
But reject a fool's arms that bear jonquils, nasturtiums, and roses.

Breasts appear as molluscs.
Shade embroiders a less curvaceous belly.

Oh, silent one!

A silence prevails over your absence.
Clouds rain, ill winds commandeer quarrelsome birds.

Liquid puddles accumulate in a road.
In a tree, overloaded leaves jeer, commiserate, or complain.

A pale bee buzzes, to jar my soul.
In silence, I feel a buzz remain.

Oh, silent one!

904

[To commemorate the fourteenth anniversary of the author's mother's death and what would have been his parents' golden wedding anniversary]


Le Jardin -- Oscar Wilde:

The lily’s withered chalice falls
Around its rod of dusty gold,
And from the beech-trees on the wold
The last wood-pigeon coos and calls.

The gaudy leonine sunflower
Hangs black and barren on its stalk,
And down the windy garden walk
The dead leaves scatter,—hour by hour.

Pale privet-petals white as milk
Are blown into a snowy mass:
The roses lie upon the grass
Like little shreds of crimson silk.





Mourning Glory Idioms

Seven years and seven more
Passed since last that beauty shone
And we are left a decade on
And then still a further four.

A bold smile that says forget-she-not
Bless'd he, who'd work on bended knee
So golden joy that all can see
Is reflected in a well-kept plot.

And who could walk past such a place
Without sorrow or kind words,
Which shall instill like soaring birds,
The still air with lordly grace?