The Angry Exile: Not the sharpest knives in the drawer.

The Hangman

Into our town the Hangman came,
Smelling of gold and blood and flame.
And he paced our bricks with a diffident air,
And built his frame in the courthouse square.
The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
Only as wide as the door was wide;
A frame as tall, or little more,
Than the capping sill of the courthouse door.
And we wondered, whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal, what the crime
That the Hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.
And innocent though we were, with dread,
We passed those eyes of buckshot lead --
Till one cried: "Hangman, who is he
For whom you raised the gallows-tree?"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
And he gave us a riddle instead of reply:
"He who serves me best," said he,
"Shall earn the rope of the gallows-tree."
And he stepped down, and laid his hand
On a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for another's grief
At the Hangman's hand was our relief
And the gallows-frame on the courthouse lawn
By tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way, and no one spoke,
Out of respect for his Hangman's cloak.
The next day's sun looked mildly down
On roof and street in our quiet town,
And stark and black in the morning air
Was the gallows-tree in the courthouse square.
And the Hangman stood at his usual stand
With the yellow hemp in his busy hand;
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike
And his air so knowing and business-like.
And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done
Yesterday, with the foreign one?"
Then we fell silent, and stood amazed,
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."
He laughed a laugh as he looked at us:
"Did you think I'd gone to all this fuss
To hang one man? That's a thing I do
To stretch a rope when the rope is new."
Then one cried "Murder!" and one cried "Shame!"
And into our midst the Hangman came
To that man's place. "Do you hold," said he,
"with him that was meant for the gallows-tree?"
And he laid his hand on that one's arm.
And we shrank back in quick alarm!
And we gave him way, and no one spoke
Out of fear of his Hangman's cloak.
That night we saw with dread surprise
The Hangman's scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
The gallows-tree had taken root;
Now as wide, or a little more,
Than the steps that led to the courthouse door,
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
Halfway up on the courthouse wall.
The third he took -- we had all heard tell --
Was a usurer, and an infidel.
"What," said the Hangman "have you to do
With the gallows-bound, and he a Jew?"
And we cried out, "Is this one he
Who has served you well and faithfully?"
The Hangman smiled: "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows-beam."
The fourth man's dark, accusing song
Had scratched our comfort hard and long;
"And what concern," he gave us back.
"Have you for the doomed -- the doomed and Black?"
The fifth. The sixth. And we cried again,
"Hangman, Hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick," he said. "that we hangmen know
For easing the trap when the trap springs slow."
And so we ceased, and asked no more,
As the Hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night,
The gallows grew to monstrous height.
The wings of the scaffold opened wide
Till they covered the square from side to side;
And the monster cross-beam, looking down,
Cast its shadow across the town.
Then through the town the Hangman came,
Through the empty streets, and called my name --
And I looked at the gallows soaring tall,
And thought, "There is no one left at all
For hanging, and so he calls to me
To help pull down the gallows-tree."
So I went out with right good hope
To the Hangman's tree and the Hangman's rope.
He smiled at me as I came down
To the courthouse square through the silent town.
And supple and stretched in his busy hand
Was the yellow twist of the hempen strand.
And he whistled his tune as he tried the trap,
And it sprang down with a ready snap --
And then with a smile of awful command
He laid his hand upon my hand.
"You tricked me. Hangman!," I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men...
And I no henchman of yours," I cried,
"You lied to me, Hangman. Foully lied!"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
"Lied to you? Tricked you?" he said. "Not I.
For I answered straight and I told you true --
The scaffold was raised for none but you.
For who has served me more faithfully
Then you with your coward's hope?" said he,
"And where are the others who might have stood
Side by your side in the common good?"
"Dead," I whispered. And amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me:
"First the foreigner, then the Jew...
I did no more than you let me do."
Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
None had stood so alone as I.
The Hangman noosed me, and no voice there
Cried "Stop!" for me in the empty square.

Maurice Ogden

Sunday, 4 October 2009

Not the sharpest knives in the drawer.

Mainly because they're not knives at all, but teaspoons.

A shopper was asked for proof of age when she tried to buy a packet of teaspoons from a supermarket.
Emma Sheppard was forbidden to buy the cutlery unless she showed identification to a shop assistant at her local Tesco.
Till operators at the store in Evesham, Worcs, wouldn't sell the pack of five teaspoons on Monday night as part of their 'Think 25' scheme, which demands ID from people who look under 25 when buying certain goods.

Jesus fucking Strictly Come Dancing Christ, it was a packet of fucking teaspoons, not a fucking chainsaw. Just teaspoons, right? Fucking teaspoons. And when the age restrictions, pointless and illiberal as they are, are largely for under 18s what the cunting fuck do those nanny state fellating sycophants at Tesco think they're fucking doing demanding ID from people who have passed that age several years before. Let's be be clear about this, on your 25th birthday being 17 is behind you by more than a quarter of your life so far. So Tesco's revolting scheme could more accurately be called 'We Didn't Fucking Think 25'.

Emma, a housewife, said: 'When the assistant asked me for ID I thought John had sneakily put some booze in the trolley...

And if he had it should be fuck all to do with Tesco beyond being pathetically grateful for the business. Even if he's got a baby face Ms Sheppard, who's pictured in the paper, looks old enough to be given the benefit of doubt, though of course the witless twats have refused to sell alcohol to people who have people with them who don't also have ID or look old enough, just in case it's being bought for someone else. However, it's not grog in this case but those potentially lethal teaspoons.

... but then when she held up a pack of spoons we looked at her like she was an idiot.

Which she clearly was.

'I didn't have my ID on me as I was only doing my weekly food shop and was not buying any alcohol. We couldn't get the spoons in the end, and I rather angrily threw my shopping in the trolley, breaking my eggs.'

I'd have fucking left it where it was and walked out.

A Tesco spokesperson said: 'Some utensils, such as knifes, will carry a 'Think 25' alert when scanned through the checkout. There is an element of common sense involved and this was a mistake, for which we are sorry.'

There we go, then. All fixed now. Tesco's corporate gob is firmly wrapped around the base of the nanny state's cock, and despite their being spit roasted by the part of the state responsible for planning arse fucking them if they dare to be too successful they're going to stick with treating people like retards. Look, Tesco, we all know you pay shit wages and get the occasional employee who isn't even as sharp as the teaspoons they refuse to sell people, but wouldn't it just be a lot easier to stop being cunts? It's not doing you any favours with the government anyway, so why don't you spit it out and suggest that enforcing the state's fuckwitted authoritarian rules isn't a job for private enterprise.

5 comments:

JuliaM said...: "We couldn't get the spoons in the end..."

What? They didn't call the manager? They actually left it at arguing with the scannerslut?

I'd have walked out of Tesco's with those spoons, or with the checkout girl's/managers still beating heart!

It's because people back down so easily that these stores get away with such rubbish...; 4 October 2009 at 17:19
Anonymous said...: Have to say I agree with JuliaM - unless people keep challenging these stupid rules more & more of them will be put in place - just because they can.
Alternatively, I'd have let the rest of the shopping be scanned though - and then walked away leaving it all behind.; 4 October 2009 at 23:55
Anonymous said...: Enough to make you weep. What a wimp.

Sainsburys is crap anyway. I boycot them on a matter of that principle alone.

People are so cowed! At the very least, I'd've held up the spoons to the crowd at the checkout and told 'em where to stick 'em!; 6 October 2009 at 12:53
Anonymous said...: I have another story from that very same branch of Tescos that I was told recently.

It seems that a pensioner was there with her granddaughter to help her with the shop, and when they got to the till was told that the granddaughter would have to produce ID as there was some booze in the trolly. So far so bad. But when the woman tried to challenge this (the granddaughter was over 18, but had no ID with her) the staff threatened to BAN her for 24 hours for making a fuss, and apparently showed her a list of all the people that had been similarly banned.

Unsurprisingly, she will no longer shop there.; 6 October 2009 at 19:57
Angry Exile said...: Anon, I've also heard of that happening in Tesco and other UK supermarkets. I just can't understand why they think that they're not pising off their own customers treating them this way.; 9 October 2009 at 07:12