The Angry Exile: Nutter vs Nutter

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

Friday, 25 February 2011

Nutter vs Nutter - UPDATED

Apparently Gaddafi is blaming Osama Bin Laden for causing unrest in Libya, though I have no idea if this means he's madder than we all thought or if it's a tactic aimed at trying to get western support (in which case he might be madder than we all thought). But it's make a great special for a Celebrity Deathmatch comeback.

UPDATE - hanging on but looks like he's struggling to keep his grip.

In Egypt, President Hosni Mubarak's first address to his people was defiant. By his second speech, he tried to be conciliatory, to present himself as an elder statesman.
Col Gaddafi did the same, moving from irate father wagging his finger at his disobedient teenage subjects to saying all he ever wanted was to be a loved and respected constitutional monarch with no real power, like our Queen.
Later, there was an even more direct echo: Mr Mubarak told ABC News in the US he was "fed up" with ruling his country and carried on only to stop it falling apart. Col Gaddafi yesterday said he was not "interested" any more but would stay out of patriotism.

If he hasn't settled on a destination for an indefinite holiday he probably needs to start thinking about his preferences for a wall with a nice view.

Comments (6)

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Captain Ranty · 735 weeks ago

He's a dozy bastard.

I don't think Ozzie gives a flying fuck what goes on in Libya, IF he is still alive.

And what was all that guff about drugs? He mentioned the EXACT area where the dealers hang out, (which I have driven past dozens of times), and yet he has never sent his lads in to sort the dealers out? Doesn't make any sense at all.

He is talking out of his hole. As usual.

CR.
My recent post 2011 Census Rebellion!

1 reply · active 734 weeks ago

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Angry_Exile 90p · 734 weeks ago

On that subject, I'm glad you were out of there before it all kicked off, if only so you avoided the "joys" of an Easyjet trip home.

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AmbushPredator 59p · 735 weeks ago

In the immortal words of Harru Hill :"There's only one way to find out...."

3 replies · active 734 weeks ago

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Angry_Exile 90p · 734 weeks ago

Not a catchphrase I'm familiar with.

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AmbushPredator 59p · 734 weeks ago

No 'Harry Hill's TV Burp' down under? I suppose that makes sense, since you wouldn't have the programmes he'd be taking the mickey out of...

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Angry_Exile 90p · 734 weeks ago

Not sure. I think he just does the Comedy Festivals or the odd tour but I've certainly not seen TV Burp on the telly guides, though he might conceivably be on a channel I rarely watch. We get the Eurovision Song Contest here so relevance of programme content to an Australian audience might not be a barrier :D Used to watch Harry hill in the UK and didn't remember the catchphrase, though if he only uses it on TV Burp that'd be why. That show never did anything for me and I didn't watch it much.

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