The Angry Exile: 999 failboat.

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

Wednesday, 6 January 2010

999 failboat.

Hugely entertaining.

Nanny's local council had checked the ice (7-8 inches) for safety and solidity, and the curlers of Kirk Loch duly began curling.

Can you guess what happened next loyal readers?

Yes, that's right, someone phoned the police to tell them that there people on the ice.

Nanny's police, six of them to be precise (according to "Skip Cottage Curling"), duly turned up to warn of the danger.

However, owing to health and safety rules, they couldn't go onto the ice.

Can you guess what happened next?

Yes, that's right, Nith rescue arrived in a rescue boat. However, owing to health and safety rules, they couldn't go onto the ice either.

Can you guess what happened next?

Yes, that's right, the coast guard arrived!

However, owing to health and safety rules, they couldn't go onto the ice.

Let's just sit back and admire the fail for a bit. Six coppers standing around unable to do a bloody thing because of elfinsafti* ... fail. Three emergency services respond but they're not permitted to go onto a frozen lake despite the ice having been checked and the presence of people already out there enjoying themselves in a continuing state of non-danger... fail. One of the emergency services shows up with a fucking boat but is still not permitted to go on the lake... fail. Instead of maybe leaving one plod to keep an eye on things and everyone else buggering off in case a real emergency happens elsewhere they end up standing there just watching... fail.

Photo by Anne Smith from skipcottagecurling.blogspot.com

But the biggest fail of all isn't actually that funny. It seems likely that some busybody decided to phone the police instead of going and politely asking the curlers if they were sure they were okay out there. Independent thought and not relying on the fucking Nanny State... very sadly fail.

* Actually there was something they could have done. The Ambush Predator has blogged on some muppet reporting his girlfriend's mobile being nicked and then got done for wasting police time when they rang it and she answered. They gave the idiot an £80 Fixed penalty Notice for the, so why couldn't the Scottish cops have occupied themselves giving each other fines for standing there doing fuck all of practical use to a bunch of people who were clearly not in need of police assistance? Or maybe even the softcock who rang 999 instead of talking to the curlers in the first place?

3 comments:

Rob F said...: I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Actually, I think I might as well do both.; 6 January 2010 at 01:49
Angry Exile said...: Yeah, about how I felt.; 6 January 2010 at 03:31
Bill Sticker said...: (Cliché mode engaged) You couldn't make it up.; 6 January 2010 at 11:38