The Angry Exile: Nice to know the Cobbleition have fixed Britain's finances

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

Tuesday, 19 April 2011

Nice to know the Cobbleition have fixed Britain's finances

Well, they must have if they're still spending more than £11 billion on foreign aid including £800 million to India, which despite a lot of poverty is a growing economy with a nuclear weapons program and a space program, and can now afford even more money not only for a gunfight in Libya but for aid there as well. I've no idea where they found the money but my hat's off to them.

'Kinell.

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@AmbushPredator · 727 weeks ago

We're doomed... :(

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Angry_Exile 90p · 727 weeks ago

Yep, and it's not like we couldn't all see it coming. The political game has changed to Hot Potato, which might be more aptly named Hand Grenade, the aim being not to be the ones in office when the money crunch finally comes. The Cobbleition may think they can survive a term or two before it ends up in Labour's lap, but they're risking it going off sooner than they think. They missed a golden opportunity to win the game since Labour's last player seemed not to understand the rules and wanted to hang on to the grenade forever by sticking it down his own trousers.

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Bill · 727 weeks ago

The Treasury the only government department which never steals from the taxpayers pockets and is the one funding the Libyan Games so they really do have a bottomless pit.
So why doesn't the Treasury fund the roads, the libraries and the policymen?

Damn good question IMHO!

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Angry_Exile 90p · 727 weeks ago

'We can't afford it' depends on what 'it' is. I'm sure there are plenty of highly paid people in non-jobs who'd be happy to tell you that roads, libraries and policymen are in the can't afford category.

Tangentially I'd say they might be right about libraries - they seem to be on the decline anyway and I think ebooks might finish them off. I prefer the feel of a physical book myself, but I can't argue the advantages of being able to fill dozens of virtual shelves with old classics for nothing at all. I have a local library a short drive away but I bet it wouldn't have physical copies of more than one or two of our last half dozen downloads: some thrillers by an obscure American author that my wife likes plus Paradise Lost, Dracula and Moby Dick. Second hand book shops are sometimes the best of both worlds. You get a real book, the good ones will get almost anything ever written if you give them enough time, and while they want money for it you don't have to bring the book back again, though if you do they'll give you some of the money back. Anyhow, doesn't alter the fact that you're being taxed to pay for libraries which are now "Oh, can't afford it - is an Indian space rocket any good to you?"

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