Tetherd Cow Ahead

On my way to work this morning I heard a ‘comedian’ on the radio reciting a limerick. Not only was it not funny, it wasn’t properly a limerick. A nicely constructed limerick is an elegant gem of amusing poetry and the thing he coughed up was a leaden lump of clangourous word globs.

Herewith some rules for writing limericks:

The proper scan for a limerick is (where ‘a’ is a weak emphasis, and ‘B’, a strong):

a B a a B a a B (There was an old man with a beard)
a B a a B a a B (Who said ‘It is just as I feared…)
a B a a B (Two owls and a hen,)
a B a a B (Four larks and a wren)
a B a a B a a B (Have all built their nests in my beard!’)

There are some variations on the syllabic structure, but this is basically the plot. It’s really simple and you can easily feel it by clapping on the strong syllable (of course, to limerick writers this is the equivalent of moving your lips while reading to yourself, but I feel that if people started out by doing the clapping we would have far fewer terrible limericks in the world).

How, then, do people get it wrong so often? Consider:

There once was a young lady from Spain

This is incorrect. Can you see how it screws with the meter? You need to say either:

There was a young lady from Spain

or

There once was a lady from Spain

It is important to get the meter right in a limerick because that is one of the rules. You can’t just bandy any old thing about. Why? Because then it’s not a limerick. If you decide that you wish to change the rules, fine, but don’t introduce your effort as a limerick, but as a bad poem, which is what it will surely be.

Some other tips for writing limericks:

·Don’t start and end with the same line: this is an inferior form and should be avoided.†

·Don’t use the same rhyming word more than once: it shows a lack of cleverness.

·Rhyme properly: ‘time’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘dine’

·Avoid contrivance in language or rhyme: if it sounds forced it will not work.

Once you have mastered these simple rules, off into the world you may venture and with luck you may even create some jewels such as these:

From the depths of the crypt at St Giles,
Came a scream that resounded for miles,
The vicar said ‘Gracious!
Has Father Ignatius
Forgotten the bishop has piles?’‡

or

I sat next to the Duchess at tea,
It was just as I feared it would be
Her rumblings abdominal
Were truly phenomenal
And everyone thought it was me!

When you have mastered the proper form, you may then join the elite and become revered. Consider this masterpiece from Edward Gorey:

There was a young curate whose brain
Was deranged by the use of cocaine
He lured a small child
To a copse dark and wild
Where he beat it to death with his cane

Gorey is not only in complete control of the form, but he has subverted it by making the punchline grim and surprising, an effect that only works because we are not expecting that outcome (it is, of course, a very Gorey thing to do).

The most skilfull limerickists (I just made that word up) then really excel. This one uses expected rhyme for a superb piece of trickery:

There was a young lady from Bude
Who went for a swim in the lake
A man in a punt
Stuck an oar in her ear
And said “You can’t swim here it’s private!”

See how wonderfully funny that is? But it’s only funny because it breaks the rules. Otherwise it would just be surrealism. And to break rules, you gotta know rules, capisci?

From there, the possibilities are endless. How about this:

A limerick fan from Australia
Considered his efforts a failure
His verses were fine
Until the fourth line

Or one of my favourites:

There was a young man from New Haven
Who had an affair with a raven
After wiping his chin
He declared with a grin
“Nevermore!”

Next week, on Post Bovus Ergo Propter Bovus, we investigate The Haiku. Please sharpen your knives.

Whoops. Er… sorry that’s seppuku.††

*I realise that by introducing a topic such as this I risk another worrying poetry competition between jedimacfan and Polanski. Sigh.

†As in: “There once was a man from Japan… That silly old man from Japan” Tsk.

‡Limericks don’t have to be bawdy, but it is a grand tradition.

††Which is what the guy on the radio should have immediately committed, if he’d had any common decency.

I’ve been meaning to write something about the eerie phenomenon of Alien Cattle Abduction for some time (because you know this will be a subject of continued concern here at The Cow), and now Radioactive Jam has stumbled across some breaking news in Canada. Visit this site and find out all about the unsettling facts that governments are hiding from us!

Thanks RaJ, and thanks Canadian Milk Board for doing something funny with advertising for a change.

I am loathe to just pinch articles from boingboing but I’m afraid I had no choice but to make sure you all knew about The Cat Piano.

Yes, it’s exactly what you think: the keyboard is connected to a mechanism that jabs a sharp spike into the bum of the appropriate cat, each of whom has been selected for the pitch and tone of its meow. Oh the cruel mirth.

I am obliged to recount that the brother of a certain reader of this blog has a variation of this instrument, called The Cat Bagpipes, in which the cat is held splayed in the arms in a manner that resembles bagpipes. The cat’s tail is held in the mouth and upon the ‘player’ biting it, the cat then utters sounds not unlike the tones of a bagpipe.

Now before I get spammed by animal rights activists, I just want to say I don’t condone this behaviour.

But it sure is funny.

My lucky-dip present from my mate Pete at our writing group’s annual Christmas meeting was this ‘Super High’ set of sunglasses. The packaging promises ‘Super Amusive Play’ and warns ‘This Is a Toy!’ (just in case you get so Super High that you are tempted to wear them to your next United Nations press briefing).

But the best part is the contents description:

It says at the bottom: ‘Specifications colours and contents may vary from illustration.’

Fantastic! They could stick anything in this bag and not get sued.

But I know that the thing you all really want to see is how cool I look wearing them. Oh very well.

Sometimes the Blogosphere just catches you unawares with its downright joi de vivre. Over the last few weeks I’ve been visiting the Joey Polanski Show and having a good ol’ chuckle at Joey’s adventures in the land of expedient spelling. Just now though, Joey was kind enough to link to me, via a typical Joey post, and although it is always a flattering thing for a blogger to be accorded that honour it doesn’t necessarily mean a reciprocal post will occur, as you all know.

Except that Joey made me laugh. I mean, really, really laugh. This is why: some of you will remember this post I made about perfume a little while back. Those of you who don’t should read it before going to this post of Joey’s.

See? I fell about.

Joey rocks.

Nurse Myra took great delight in bringing to my attention this Wanted ad from Saturday’s Sydney Morning Herald. It reads:

Wanted

Viking Warriors

Calling all Erik the Reds, Odins, Thors and Beowulfs. Several ‘Viking warriors’ required for two weeks work. Authentic Viking appearance and extensive knowledge of Viking culture preferred. Must have own complete Viking costume including arms and armour. Historical re-enactment experience preferred.

Auditions 9.30 am Friday 28 October 2005.
Australian National Maritime Museum, Darling Harbour. Applicants requested to be in full costume. Please bring references.

Valhalla Awaits. Beserkers† need not apply.

I don’t know what thrills me the most: that applicants must arrive in full costume, or that they are expected to bring references!

Man, I really want to read those references. I imagine a typical one would go something like this:

To Whom it May Concern

Thangbrand Breiðskeggr has manned an oar in my longship for six months and I have found him to be a fine and upstanding fellow, if somewhat strongly smelling. His raping and pillaging skills are eclipsed only by his capacity for quaffing prodigous quantities of ale and his proficiency at knatteleik.

I think I can say that most of us here on the Mjöksiglandi Spörr will be sad to see Thangbrand go, but Odin knows that he is destined for bigger and better things.

I wish him every success in his future endeavours and I am sure that if he can control his temper and avoid further beheadings of his co-workers he will be a valuable addition to any workplace that will have him.

Yours &c
Erik Breiðrböllr

Dedicated readers of The Cow will have by now realised where I’m heading with all this. A bunch of Vikings turning up at the Maritime Museum in costume on Friday, and me with time on my hands as of Wednesday… Yes, that’s right, not only do you get to read about it but I’m going to go get you some pictures.

I was especially motivated when I read the following description of Viking dances on Regia Anglorum:

“Several sources mention warriors performing acrobatic dances (often naked), whilst wielding weapons, usually in connection with the cult of Odin.”

I don’t know about you, but when I imagine yer typical Viking performing an acrobatic dance, fully armed and naked my brain has a sort of vodka-and-curdled-yoghurt-through-the-nose hysterical spasm.

Oh please let these guys on Friday be really dedicated.

†Tsk. You’d think that someone would check an unfamiliar word like ‘berserker’ before cavalierly whacking a spelling error up for all the world to see. Especially when they’re appealing to people with extensive knowledge of Viking culture…