A deformed heap of dwarves
Cuts pourpoints in your coat of king;
And the imperial eagle, which, formerly, under your law,
Covered the whole world of thunder and flame,
Cuit, poor plucked bird, in their infamous pot!
As the people of Africa prepare to give thanks for the life of the misogynistic, homophobic, hissing zombie who saved them from AIDS, some of Calle Carmen’s sharpest minds are said to have spent last night in a Punjabi curry house, planning to raid the remains, pope them in the popmobile, and give the man…
I’m going to do a quick and dirty update to 1.5 this afternoon, so things may look weird for a while (or longer). Update: think it all works. Please tell me if you get any weird stuff.
When I was poor, I wrote pastiche in considerable quantities (and even did a few sit-down-and-sweat exams) for music students who could afford not to fulfill their harmony and counterpoint requirements personally. I figured that if institutions issuing degrees were too lazy, stupid or corrupt to investigate a sudden improvement in a student’s grades or,…