The Angry Exile: I'm fucking dog sick hearing about this bloody wedding

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 24 April 2011

I'm fucking dog sick hearing about this bloody wedding

An open letter to the world's ~~mediocre~~ media:

Despite my long standing republicanish tendencies I don't harbour any ill will towards William and Kate. Okay, it does annoy me slightly that unless Australia ditches the monarchy he'll be 'my' king one day, but that's not his fault.* The poor bugger never asked for the job and for all any of us know may turn it down when the time comes. So no, I have nothing against them, but I don't know them and they don't know me and it's vanishingly unlikely that that will ever change, which means I have nothing but indifference towards them either. Sorry if this is entering the flag-waving spirit that seems expected of everybody British born, but I'm just not prepared to jump on the bandwagon and sit here pretending that it's in any way meaningful to me.

So can the media kindly stop with the endless fucking wedding-a-thon coverage? Please? We all hope they have a nice day for it and that the drunken uncles don't make complete arses of themselves at the reception, but beyond that some of us really don't give a rip. It's becoming so excessive - this is just the most extreme example I know of here in Oz - that even the T-Mobile 'funny' wedding advert with the lookalikes just annoyed me. In this digital age every network has a spare channel or two so can you please just put one aside for the wedding and have at least one just doing business as usual. Even the main one would be okay since I realise that so many people addicted to the House of Windsor soap opera really are interested. But other things will happen on April 29th and no doubt some bastard somewhere will take the opportunity to bury any bad news he needs to get out in what is passing for the open. It might be nice if someone was prepared to fucking report it for the benefit of those of us who aren't busy going ooh-ahhh at footage of the coach and the dress on the TV or sitting lulled into a trance by the tones of whichever Dimbleborg is doing the commentary.

In short, if they don't re-enact the one from the Vicar of Dibley where Alice and Hugo get married, which would still be utterly irrelevant but funny as all fuck, then I'm not interested.

Many thanks,
An angry and curmudgeonly Exile.

Or the UK does it first. I've always wondered what would happen then. Do the Royals have a second favourite Commonwealth country to go to and be king/queen of?