Lyndon Hood - Bad Liar, Lower Hutt

Monday, July 25, 2005

NEW ...

...oh, who am I kidding...

OLD HOOD: An Election-Year Glossary

Are you weary of trying to decipher exactly what various parties will do if elected? Having trouble sorting out the scandals from the storms-in-tea-cup? Have you been left drowning and helpless in waves of catch-all buzzwords and empty political rhetoric, and that even though actual campaigning hasn't started yet? You are not alone! Your humble lexicographer is in much the same boat.

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SLIGHTLY NEWER HOOD: Political Poetry Through the Ages

I have always maintained that the whole of human experience is reflected in literature. There is much to be learned from careful study of the great classics. To prove this point, I was inspired by this week's Poetry Day to sort through my own small knowledge of world literature, seeking works from the past that could perhaps shed light on our current obsessions.

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The latter caused Bruce, of Waitako, to send me one of his poems. I am completely charmed. Not only do I have a reader, I am an inspiration! Think I'll publish it on my blog:
Remembering Roger

There once came a great prophet of a type messianic,
Who did preach the extinction of woes economical.
Yea he seized his great moment ‘mid political panic,
And did institute change of a type Rogernomical

This prophet of change and other protagonists,
Harked back to ideas from a previous time.
We thought not to question for all were good socialists,
And promised utopian pleasures sublime.

This knowledge that seemed at times quite esoterical,
Was followed by followers with fervour religious,
And preached by disciples in tones quite hysterical,
Who forertold this new age would bring wealth quite prodigious

For theory ‘twas not, ‘twas profound revelation,
And thus with such certainty boldly propounded.
We asked not for proof, nor for verification,
For on eternal truths it was thought to be founded.

And when with a faith that did seem somewhat mystical,
‘Twas claimed that ‘twould spread such great wealth through the land,
New converts ‘twould say, eyes aglow, “Its simplistical,
We merely employ an invisible hand”.

Thus great wealth would accrue by this means automatic,
There’d be no need at all for concerns altruistic.
‘Twas all said with a faith, ‘twas a faith so dogmatic,
And sweet music for those with plans opportunistic.

We’d give those poorly paid much less remuneration,
And sell all public chattels which progress impair,
Thus appeasing that demon whose name is inflation,
And finding salvation by means laissez-faire.

And when any questioned their claims hyperbolic,
And dared to suggest ‘twas all quite hypothetical,
From their lofty advantage they became vitriolic,
And called such unseemly behaviour heretical.

And when we did come to the land that was promised,
To savour the fruits of profound revolution,
No rivers of milk nor of honey were noticed,
Oh, but those fruits had been subject to redistribution.
Not an exact mirror of my sentiments, but pretty much. And well worth saying in these dangerous times.

Happy election-date-announcement-day, everyone.