fantastic voyage

what matters in the infinite deeps of space
cannot be measured by the normal mind
a monster lurks behind each staring face

in the beginning we might magics trace
and nothing mortal would we leave behind
what matters in the infinite deeps of space

a sort of ichor must our fluids replace
for a short period we'll be flying blind
a monster lurks behind each staring face

there's no great shame and no disgrace
in all the fear that turns our hearts unkind
what matters in the infinite deeps of space

each of us at the end will find the place
where no great forces will our spirits bind
a monster lurks behind each staring face

through tiny holes the silver threads we lace
already known are answers that we'll find
what matters in the infinite deeps of space
a monster lurks behind each staring face

Chaucer lamenteth the n00bs

Whanne that Septembre doth the summer ende
vnto the schooles the myriad noobs do wende;
they think nat of the trouble and the frette
that they will cause vpon the Internette.
In daies long past svch swaines wee did nat see
vntille they rechéd college or vniuersitie,
bot nowe at everich schole compvters waite
instrvmentes alike of childish loue and hate.
As sone as youngstre on the net doth logge
bot thatte hee (or shee) doth make an blogge,
opon the uuiche the bratte doth lightlie write
of matteres simple and of svbjectes trite:
howe one beth lamer, yet another leet,
and howe they never shalle knowe defeat.
Gentillesse and chivalrie do soffre rout
whanne these yonge men and women doe come out;
whilom there was on the Nette true cortesye
bot nowe gode manners doe from the Webbe flee.
UUee elders loke, and we ovre heads doe shake
and uuonder whether twas alle an mistake.
One thing there beth that doth drive us alle bats,
and thatte is alle those goddamned swivinge lolcatz!