Hello Mr Chips
Chips: I know the world’s changing, Dr. Ralston. I’ve seen the old traditions dying one by one. Grace and dignity and feeling for the past. All that matters here today is a fat banking account. You’re trying to run the school like a factory for turning out money-making, machine-made snobs! You’ve raised the fees, and in the end, the boys who really belong to Brookfield have been frozen out, frozen out. Modern methods! Intensive training! Poppycock! Give a boy a sense of humour and a sense of proportion and he’ll stand up to anything! I’m not going to retire. Do what you like about it.
From the film Goodbye Mr Chips (1939)
Director: Sam Wood Stars: Robert Donat and Greer Garson
Ah! Welcome, new friend,
You’re a teacher now I see
It is a pleasure to note the end
Of the gap between you and me
For in joining us you will start a breeze
With your flimsy, butterfly’s wings
That will be tomorrow’s tempest
To blow away sordid things
But don’t expect to be a star
Unless you leave your class
To sell yourself to the gods afar
As a rich man’s looking glass
Yet if you stay and share each day
With the voices of tomorrow
You will hear the laughter which cannot be heard
By the dwellers in present sorrow
And your chance remark or one gentle word
May never be on file
Even though it may add to the lives that you save
With the alchemy of your smile
Teach on, young colleague, and have no fear
Of the Gorgons Fame or Shame
For you will build lives throughout every year
And there is no prouder claim.
Quotation source gratefully acknowledged: http://www.filmsite.org/good.html
Übermensch
Look at me now . . . I am Superman . . .
Suddenly found in this morning’s elan
More potent than ever before,
As I praised dear old George Bernard Shaw.
I didn’t know it took so many hours
To uncover the breadth of my stately powers . . .
An unhappy childhood plus family relations
Brought me so many privations
But when, just today, I finally knew
That even the wildest of dreams can come true
With a Wow! and a Wham! and a plan to pursue
I thought up the things I must do . . .
The first thing I did was pan Trump’s decisions
Then I chastised the leader for his obdurate visions,
Next I censured the Press for their biased derisions
And invoiced my doctor for unneeded incisions.
I then gave all generals some time in the trenches,
Sent one lying PM off to the back benches,
Made each so-called expert pay for failed ventures
And too costly dentists distribute free dentures.
Not finished yet, I sacked overpaid bosses,
Built bridges on roadways which any child crosses,
Forced greedy banks to refund our losses,
And burnt all my shares in the Exon colossus.
For another bold deed that was the time
To splash all developers’ eyesores with lime,
Make lawyers donate their wages from crime
And force every shock jock to broadcast in mime.
Oh dear! I was drained at the end of this day,
And midnight has left me with no more to say,
So I’ll jump into bed until the time when . . .
I’m afraid I will wake up as Clarke Kent again.
An Overheard Song
Once in the land of Gobbledygook
The rules of convention were put in a book
Citizens felt they had all passed the test
As long as each one of them looked like the rest
So they wore the same clothes and ate the same food
And thought any difference outrageously rude
They sang the same songs and cheered the same men
And voted for each one again and again
They built the same houses regardless of cost
And then they built towers so more space was lost
They followed their customs with endless decorum
And when people dissented they flocked to deplore ‘em
If anyone took an unwanted direction
He or she soon was a rat for dissection
At all public meetings true axioms were mumbled
And because of this fumbling society crumbled
Nobody thought or desired to be taught
Instead every rule-book was frantically bought
Discussion was hushed and new learning was nil
And radio’s Yes Men swept in for the kill
All work was part-time as careers disappeared
And gurus of nonsense were widely revered
It didn’t take long for this world to decay
As wise people died only fools had their say
In the end no one knew what had really gone wrong
But you might find a clue in the words of this song.
Life Is A Terminal Illness
Walking is a challenge now that I’m old
I wear lots of clothes because of the cold
And my movement resembles a circus trick
As I need to walk with a walking stick
Ho hum beat your drum
I look for my finger and find my thumb
My poor back aches with both knees in pain
As I try to pick things up in vain
My vision is weak with my hearing poor
I need a hearing aid what’s more
Fiddle de dee and can’t you see
I’ll soon have a place in a nursery
Blood pressure’s up with cholesterol
My doctor’s off to Sebastopol
There’s gout in my foot, arthritis in my fingers
A constant ache and the memory lingers
Hi ho you should know
My hair is white as Christmas snow
When I am seated it’s hard to rise
So I perch on a stool to compromise
I can’t watch the news as I fall asleep
I forget so much it makes me weep
Boo hoo that is true
My whole poor life is a hullabaloo
I go to great length to cure my ills
It takes me ages to count my pills
And so my life goes on and on
So much to be frowned upon
Rage rage listen to the sage
Now I must learn to act my age
But one thing stands like stone
Dead people cannot moan
The ultimate test is still the best
As I am not yet laid to rest
So it’s ho ho ho and time for bed
I must stop my moaning as I’m not yet dead
All Things are Fine
If you tell the truth you don’t have to remember anything. Mark Twain
I am the child, reviled
I am the Muslim you disdain
I am the old man exiled
Who sleeps out in the rain
I am the teenage user
I am the homeless waif
I am the wife abuser,
From whom she will never be safe
I am the alimony shirker
I am the young alcoholic
I am the retrenched worker
Diagnosed as melancholic.
I am the illiterate student
I am the bankrupt receiver
I am the priest who is prudent
But who is a deceiver.
I am the costly lawyer
I am the persecuted Jain
I am the hostile employer
Obsessed with personal gain
I am the voice of the sinister
I am the last in the line
I am the spent prime minister
And yes, everything is fine
royciebaby
