I Have Been Out-Kinged. Chapter 567.
I am reading about Jones Very, the Transcendentalist poet. I had never heard of him before yesterday. What a name. Imagine growing up with a name like that. Children can be so cruel.
I’m in:
The Better Self.
I AM thy other self, what thou wilt be,
When thou art I, the one seest now;
In finding thy true self thou wilt find me,
The springing blade, where now thou dost but plough.
I am thy neighbor, a new house I've built,
Which thou as yet hast never entered in;
I come to call thee; come in when thou wilt,
The feast is always ready to begin.
Thou should'st love me, as thou dost love thyself,
For I am but another self beside;
To show thee him thou lov'st in better health,
What thou would'st be, when thou to him hast died;
Then visit me, I make thee many a call;
Nor live I near to thee alone, but all.
Jones Very was touched in the head. He wrote sonnets. I am going to read his biography. This cat sounds like he is right up my alley.
There is a song by Sly and the Family Stone. It is called ‘Stand:’
There's a midget standing tall
And a giant beside him about to fall.
Emily, my friend, just asked me what I am doing for New Year’s Eve. Mrs. King has been out of town and she will be coming home early. We intend to spend the night luxuriating in my uxorious nature.
Then, some Welshwomen showed up.