In sober praise of drink, drink, high-minded drink.

 What is wrong with alcohol? As a casual indulger of a few beers now and again, nothing as far as I am concerned. It brings the low high and the high low, all for a pint of mild or bitter. It brings truth to the lips of liars and lip to the lips of the truthful. It frees the tongue and liberates the mind. It is freedom incarnate to do no wrong without facing the consequences, yet it chains freedom with impunity to the rock of reason where it belongs.

 What is wrong with strong drink? Nothing, as far as I am concerned. If I could not drink my full and so be sated, if, say, I was enslaved to the cup of coffee in Saudi Arabia, I would probably go berserk in a ragged rage of sober sobriety: I would simply have to go for the person or persons unknown denying me my little tipple, it obviously being done in a far away country of forgotten dreams all for the sake of polite appearances and strange impersonal beliefs.

 All in all, all who would do so, in whatever unbeknown land that would be, would come to regret their interference in my natural proclivities, as whomever interferes with a person’s natural proclivities should die the death, and die it many times over. And not only die the death in abundance, but be drunk on sobriety while he or she is at it. And, anyway, who or what are these berserk forces denying me this soothing drink when I want it? Is it some fanatical tribe of sober teetotallers, is it good manners, is it economy, is it common sense, and is it right? No, I don’t think so, I do not think.

 And, by all means, no means “no” in this case: for to say “no” to drink is to remain sober in the direst of circumstances. And who can remain sober in this world without crying. And, when resorting to crying, who in this world in his right mind would not eventually resort to laughing about it as a result? Nobody as far as I am concerned. And that is that, drunk or sober, as to live is to drink and to drink is to live. Mark my words: I am right about this, drunk or sober.

Posted in Biographical comments, Sardonic banter, Self-help, Sophistry, Spoofs | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A new, effective management proposal regarding a humane social solution to the general public’s increasing concerns over antisocial street drinking in built-up, urban areas in the multicultural Britain of today.

 As an oft-impartial observer of the “urbane wino scene” in London, I am somewhat disappointed over the lack of adequate social provision for official wino reserves in this country. This no less because it is self-evident to me that protective urban enclaves for winos are clearly needed in the present climate of anti-wino mania now pursued and promoted by most urban borough Councils. There is even a slight risk that the winos’ basic civil rights are under threat. Clearly, something must be done to remedy this situation, and done quickly.

 Really, it is not that the setting up and running of these proposed wino reserves would be a difficult thing for the Government and local Borough Councils to do either. No, as on a purely civic level it would be a relatively easy task to accomplish, and would even create jobs in the affected areas, both in the running and monitoring of these reserves. Clearly, it is because there seems to be no political will or interest in setting up these vital protective areas in urban centres that is the main stumbling block.

 With a little patience and understanding, perhaps this thoroughly inappropriate “lack of political will” can be overcome, and especially when it is realized by all alike that these areas would be an ideal solution to the problem of street drinking by unsocial elements who roam the fringes of British society. The first step would be to accept that those monitored, highly organised and controlled reserves that are set aside for such use are going to be a boon to British society, not a blight upon its social fabric. Winos, it is clear, need to have somewhere sheltered, appropriate and safe for them to go in the daytime. A relatively secure place where they could drink and socialize in privacy, other than hang about the streets and parks in urban centres at all hours of the day, before they disperse to return to their respective sleeping places late at night.

 Ideally, I think that all that would be needed would be an enclosed area physically removed somewhat from normal social contact with normal people: secure areas that are well-lit, fenced in, protected and landscaped to provide a comfortable inhabitable zone away from prying eyes. Ideally, it being a secure isolated area surrounded by fencing and bushes to prevent any unwelcome social contact, or prying eyes, and also any subsequent noise pollution from winos acting in an antisocial manner towards each other. This being behaviour that, I suppose, would occasionally happen amongst them, particularly when the alcohol began to run out.

 This area would need to be no bigger than the social need required in a local area: it being a reserve which, ideally, might be no bigger than a small urban garden; or, hopefully, at its greatest extent, would be no bigger than a tennis court. Obviously, the area would need monitoring on a daily basis, and service industry jobs would be created to cater for this need, and would be a social and economic benefit of adopting this policy. Ideally, indeed, necessarily, the reserve would need to be monitored by close circuit television, together with regular visits by community support officers, police officers, street cleaners, and social workers, who could offer advice, consultation, and polite conversation to the winos present at the time, which is a Council service that is always welcome by socially responsible citizens.

 Of course, sanitation could be a problem, particularly where it concerns the large amount of urine produced by winos in one day. An ideal “green” solution to this problem would be to create a well-drained marshy toilet area at the corner of the reserve that is sieved and filtered by reed beds, to cleanly and safely biodegrade the residue left each day by constant use. This self-sustaining toilet area would then not need to be cleaned or monitored by the Council’s sanitation department, as it would be self-sustaining eco-friendly solution to waste management on the reserve, which is only practical.

 With the present increase of the implementation of Controlled Drinking Zones in our urban areas and town centres, it is only right that winos be protected from the over-zealous enforcement of these draconian methods of controlling street-drinking, and any overly obnoxious anti-social behaviour associated with it. I think that the easily adopted, conveniently-run solution which I propose here is only fair to all involved, in helping bring the present wino problem in our cities and major urban areas under control, and to help monitor the situation.

 I hope that all politicians, urban borough councillors, and social entrepreneurial individuals and institutions and members of the public who have a vested interest in this matter, would agree with me over this socially progressive proposal. If so, I hope they would help support it, and help further this new legal and thoroughly humane solution, and positively engage over this matter with all necessary parties involved in the local government management regime primarily charged with tackling the ongoing unsavoury wino issue in this country.

Posted in Devil's advocate, Ecological comment, Sardonic banter, Self-help, Uncategorizable, Urban heroes | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

An obituary for Yellowism.

 Is Yellowism here to stay, a stain on the fabric of the modern art world that is more indellible than indelible ink itself? As Prof. Robert “Bobby” Dazzler, the well known Scottish art historian and critic, has said about Yellowism in one of his numerous modern art lectures at the London School of Art and Design in Holborn: “If a pushy, up and coming young artist wishes to strike a blow for some obscure would-be “movement” like “Yellowism” then he should create something that will ruin the appetite for modern art of every art critic who ever sees that work hung in an expensive art gallery. If an avant-garde art gallery refuses to put up potential pieces of art like this that challenge the basic tenets of all art, that would be the ultimate compliment (and it is seldom done). But no matter, as they won’t turn their back on such disruptive cultural material as long as it has the potential to make money. People can stand anything these days, including the highly publicised, or notoriously self-publicising “non-event of Yellowism”. Yellowism is certainly not “art as we know it”, and it probably isn’t “anti-art” either. It’s certainly a brash, pushy element of contemporary visual culture, but it is certainly not an essential part of our rich artistic culture. But in reality it’s not an “artistic movement” at all, and it’s certainly not “real art”. In fact, it’s not really much of anything really, it’s just some re-hashed, anti-establishment, pre-labelled thing called “Yellowism”, something that has been squeezed out of a soured attitude towards modern art and put up for public display. As such, in the future as much as in the past, any of its numerous products cannot be presented in any meaningful level in an art gallery, without being accepted as being artistic enough to be there in the first place. Perhaps, in reality, it can only be presented to the world at large only through “puerile Yellowistic chomps” at something else more worthwhile, such as the “unbridled creativity” of art itself. The main difference between Yellowism and a real art form is that in art you have freedom of interpretation (as an function of creativity); in the pretentious artistic stance of Yellowism you don’t have freedom of interpretation at all, as there is no artistic spark there for it to interpret. Thus, as a direct result of this, it can be said that everything and anything that can be pointed out as existing is inevitably about Yellowism, and that’s it: end of story. Thus, once its main existential agenda has been exposed for what it is (as a self-seeking quest for its own continued acceptance and growth, like an “artistic cancer” on the body of modern art) everything that is labelled as Yellowism immediately becomes equally valid as an artistic work; and so, in that case, everything is art, everything can be seen as being art. But that certainly doesn’t mean to say you have to like it (or even accept this premise in the first place). As such, in calling some simplistic act of vandalism (such as occurred at the Tate Gallery), or in accepting some trumped up piece of semi-artistic-looking work “a potential piece of Yellowism”, is both a self-fulfilling and a self-defeating task. As such, as for “Yellowism” in the art world, you can either take it or leave it; I suggest you just leave it.”

 This analysis of Yellowism, as being some infantile form of “anti-art”, is as good advice as any on such a puerile thing as “Yellowism” is (and it’s innumerable “would-be in-thing” predecessors on the art scene are, and always shall be). Clearly then, the best thing to do with Yellowism is to ignore it, that’ll teach its misguided adherents and would-be followers some table manners in the art world. However, at some time in the near future (when all this comes out in the wash and time levels all disputes and petty squabbles in the art world and turns it into history lessons), it will be seen more clearly that, perhaps, we despise those who are most like us more than those who are least like us, and probably for the very same reasons too.

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An expose of pensioners scrounging off the State, while hard-working British workers pick up the tab.

 It is slightly strange, to become enlightened over the British benefits system while watching a prime-time television chat show… but there you are. I refer here, of course, to the recent broadcast debate by channel 5 about the Channel 4 television series, Benefits Street. And what a surprise: I expected to be drawn into the argument about long-term unemployed dossers, about their right to survive – gratis – and, “Very well, thank you,” on Government payouts (in a society where full employment is, apparently, nowadays quite mandatory).

 But how wrong I was. In fact, these poor, pathetic, lacklustre persons claiming their various unemployment benefits are irrelevant, and always will be, as they are the natural Capitalist successors to the Lumpenproletariot of Communist fame. Clearly, in fact, they are, as a class, socially useless beings living a completely meaningless life on the margins of society (and, let’s face it, they are very good at it as well – experts at doing nothing all day long, you might say).

 What I didn’t expect to hear on this chat show was that in truth the major drain on Government benefit payments was not the long-term unemployed, but the great British pensioner! What a turnaround! To be informed that these crotchety old moth-balled “agents of leisure” take at least half the billions of pounds a year of the British benefits pot for themselves, and do not contribute one jot to the national well-being for doing so.

 What a lot of lazy dossers these worn-out “over-the-hill” fellows must be! Where is their embarrassment, their shame at losing their much deserved economic meaning, their social contribution, and, ultimately, their raison d’etre? And what do they do all day for their money? Nothing! They just sit around all day, lounging about in armchairs eating cake and drinking cups of tea and watching dodgy television game shows like Deal or No Deal.

 I mean, what a waste of space, what a waste of all that stored-up wealth of personal experience it is to British society! Do these left-over social dregs on their last legs not know that they cannot even hope to do that with impunity, and to waste what is left of their precious time on idle chit chat and silly socializing with their fellow dozy, pre-packaged human beings that invariably end up in the nursing homes of the nation, just waiting about for their last breath to take them off to Never-Never Land?

 Where does their civil responsibility reside? Where has their social contribution got to? Really, in this day and age, what use are all these dozy old pensioners to the British economy anyway, after they have taken their almighty bite out of the (now thoroughly limited) British people’s benefits system? None whatsoever as far as I can see! Talk about indolence! These thoroughly lethargic individuals, hanging onto the end of their tether for dear life, have gone beyond leading an “apparently” well-deserved relaxed lifestyle; they have taken it one step further and have made the afternoon nap a mandatory requirement of their leftover existence in a hard-pressed economic climate. In fact, they have made this their last social and political statement of their lives!

 What has become of their sense of social responsibility, their urge to contribute to society? Where has the “get up and go” of these out of date, lethargic lemons gone to, to the dogs, or over to the obligatory afternoon bingo event down the local OAP’s club? How shameful! How wasteful of all that combined economic, social, and personal wisdom contained within the combined noggins of these poor old fellows, who have basically been “put out to grass” before their time has truly come! What they really need is some pushy bureaucrat from some Government sponsored quasi-autonomous non-governmental organisation, or even the local Job Centre, to go and give them a good old kick up their combined backsides and get them back into doing some socially useful work for the British nation, before it’s too late for all of us.

Posted in Devil's advocate, Political satire, Sardonic banter, Sophistry, Spoofs, Uncategorizable | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

Who, really, is [the current British Prime Minister] David Cameron?

 I don’t know very much about David Cameron except that he is rather plump (apparently with “puppy fat”) and looks like he likes to “boss it about a bit” in a bit of a “lordly manner” over the “common people” (or “plebs” for short). And really, is this not enough to know about a man who is plainly naturally a bit bossy on the quiet to say the least? Obviously, he is the sort of fellow who, when “in charge”, apparently likes to get his own way, and if (like others like him in positions of authority) he somehow doesn’t, well, you can expect a bit of a tantrum straight away. Say, much like an over-active child in need of a good spanking before bedtime, I presume, just to keep him on the straight and narrow and to make sure he doesn’t start wetting the bed without fully realizing the consequences of his actions.

 It is not that he has no fully-functional governmental policy ideas either: I expect he has, all second hand and take from dusty old Tory manifestos, I suppose, or, at the very least, taken from some stress-cracked Tory think-tank taking cover from hard economic reality out in the heart of the home counties. After all, you don’t expect originality from Tory politicians, only a rehash of some dusty old hoity-toity policy made to fit the mould and regurgitated all over the times we live in. So much for the diversity of the human condition in a new model age of enlightenment!

 And as for his dress sense is concerned: look at the sort of clothes he wears, he’s a walking advert for the likes of [now defunct] high street clothes shops like C&A, I think: he’s all black and white and baggy about the ankles. Where he gets his “neat and tidy” conservative dress sense from, well, it must come straight out of an old 1960’s home shopping catalogue for “uppity politicians”, straight out of the “square pegs for round holes” section.

 It’s not that he looks like a tower of strength either, as compared to some (whom shall not be named, as it’s unnecessary) he often looks “all in a dither”. Say, much like a short, plump, overworked middle-class salesman caught trying to sell something unpalatable to a harassed washerwoman on her doorstep, and meeting quite unexpected (but thoroughly effective) consumer opposition to his shoddy wears. Someone in the “public image industry” should definitely take him in hand and show him a few party tricks to play for the inattentive audience: An already media-jaded audience which is already quite fed up of hearing his old Tory brand of mealy-mouthed blathering on afternoon “soft news” programmes, one after another (with networked repeats), and regurgitated ad infinitum for posterity to make sure everyone’s heard it straight from the horse’s mouth. It’s hardly inspiring, I can tell you.

 In short, and to round things up (as I have more important things to think on), is David Cameron just another version of a Tory wide-boy straight out of the Prime Ministerial mould for such party animals, and destined to be overlooked by history much like many of his bland Tory predecessors before him now are? Yes, probably, but that is the nature of the popular political game he plays at No 10 Downing Street (which has now become (if it already wasn’t) the Tory party equivalent of Blarney Castle), which, inevitably, he plays in the only way he can: blandly, with blarney.

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Do the long-term unemployed people in this country have the right to exist in a state of complacency?

 Do the long-term unemployed in Britain today have any real right to continue to exist as they are, as fickle, lazy, work shy, miserable ragamuffins seemingly laughing heartily in the face of every hard-working man and woman in the country? In the strict sense of the word I would say, “No!” But this if only that such blatantly ignorant, unproductive and socially irrelevant people if unable to support and maintain themselves are, as such, economically redundant unproductive units of insignificant, spineless antisocial protoplasm – indeed, they are a complete waste of living-space in any decent, law abiding society.

 This is not because I would condemn the long-term unemployed out of hand for being continually unemployed in a society where a currently up to date employment history (with curriculum vitae attached) is “de rigueur” for gaining wothwhile long-term employment of any kind, or they remain unemployable. And which “state of affairs” in this country is inevitably the rigorous social norm, or is especially enforced by an ordered, bureaucratic, regulated system of paid employment. No, I would not condemn them for failing to fulfil that viciously draconian requirement of the job market. But I would condemn the long-term unemployed of today outright purely and deliberately for knowingly and wilfully being recalcitrant unproductive economic and social units of the British economy. And then for being so easily able to live with it as well, just so long as the various State benefits just keep on rolling into their basic bank accounts every payday, regular as clockwork.

 Personal productivity in our fast paced, technologically advanced modern world means a person being able to look after himself or herself as a self-aware, self-motivated, self-reliant social unit in society. It does not mean then that any naturally useless, inherently worthless long-term unemployed person is also necessarily utterly and totally meaningless, or necessarily has no real meaning. The naturally drab, sanguine, dull, lacklustre, useless, or economically and socially unproductive long-term unemployed person indeed has a very real meaning: to be unproductive at the expense of the society he or she lives in, survives within, or inhabits as a virulent parasitical growth upon the body politick. This is the sheer, raw, intensely personal meaning of the lack of moral and spiritual meaning and purpose to his or her life that a long-term unemployed person has to contend with in Britain today.

 The Marxists had a nice, neat, even polite word for the long-term unemployed, these economically unproductive, antisocial individuals exiled from decent society – Lumpenproletariot, they called them. Characteristically lumping them all together in one saggy, wrinkled under-bottom of social classification, or, for convenience – an underclass. Although they did not include the upper classes in this decidedly dodgy class-ridden definition of lazy, lacklustre, good for nothing, low-life scum – an almost criminalized “outsider” group of lackadaisical unemployables. In effect, the Marxists expected the upper classes to look after themselves at the expense of the social underdog, clasping political and economic power tightly to themselves as they went (and the upper classes weren’t wrong in that, only being crass, mean, and opinionated over it, as usual). No, the long term unemployed in this country are a long way towards being classified as being a classic case of Lumpenproletariotism, and especially if they cannot and have not ever done any useful, productive work in their entire lives. In fact, I would go so far as to say that they have not, and probably never had, and probably never will have, any practical understanding or appreciation of the work ethic, as amazing as that sounds to some.

 How then would it be possible to totally eradicate the long-term unemployed, these basically underemployed, basically unemployable, basically totally irrelevant, socially-naïve persons of ill repute from the face of the planet in a decent, law abiding, humane way? This is the stark social dilemma which confronts modern British society today. Of course, idealistically speaking, this is not a very practical thing to do anyway, as even those in receipt of any form of Government State benefit, of any kind (be it a service, a utility, a product, or (perhaps more relevantly) any regular benefit-based payment from out of the Welfare State’s enormously bureaucratic benefits system), can be questioned as to their inherent social usefulness as and when they receive it if they have not already “paid into the pot” on a regular basis to help pay for it.

 No, the question of what exactly to do about the long-term unemployed remains a nagging problematic quandary, an irritating social conundrum to the average working person, working hard every day for his or her well-earned crust of bread. Even if these hard working people themselves, in their desperate desire and fawning need for work itself (if only to massage their grossly enlarged egos), are as a result often being exploited in a myriad of different ways. In turn, inevitably, they are being imposed upon every day in a myriad of subtle ways, by those who best know how to exploit, use, and manipulate that very basic desire of ordinary, hard-working people to be socially useful, productive, wage-earning, morally motivated human beings. Ordinary people of average intelligence who are driven to work every day, solely by the driving need to improve their own desperate economic position and to maintain their essential social prestige.

 Of course, purely as an economically necessary result of this, some say that for doing so these ordinary, hard working people are merely bonded wage slaves: working like mules for a pittance and performing tricks for their economic masters’ continual amusement. I say that, as they have nothing better to do with their time, this state of affairs of being mere employees is their natural position in life anyway. In this society this sort of ordinary, average, workaday people are paid their due for what they can do (even if in reality it is only a mere pittance), and that is all they can expect for working hard in this society, their due – nothing more, nothing less.

 But then that is another matter (one of cold, hard economic necessity maybe), for we are still left with the question of what to do with these scruffy, no-good, lazy, lacklustre, lackadaisical, down-trodden, ostracised social misfits, these great supine protoplasmic invertebrate jellies, the long-term unemployed. And especially with those sad, virtually “institutionalised” ones whom just will not do any work at all, and do it all day long, every day. They being caught as they are, much like confused laboratory rats in the maze of a increasingly depressing social and economic cycle, and then never ever even cared enough about it all to try to get a real, decent job in the first place.

 Thus, these scruffy social miscreants with no apparent social or economic use whatsoever, these mealy-mouthed, socially unproductive economic units lacking even the basic desire to work to produce something of economic value to the world (but then still with the insatiable desire to consume what they have not produced), must face being systematically eradicated from the face of the earth by the society they have so blatantly scorned and that has so deservedly rejected them in turn. For them the Government says that they must “go to work” in a steady, socially productive manner (to perform the regular, daily work-task of full-time employment in imitation of, if not in mockery of, the essentially liberating work ethic of hard working workers), or face being expunged from decent society, utterly condemned and ostracized for their pursuit of an indecent, morally obscene lifestyle.

 Yes, the Government says these socially uncooperative individuals must join the intrepid British workforce in working for a crust of bread, and not be left alone to be thrown it like a mangy dog would a bone by its master. This is the truly Herculean task that has been appointed by the Government for the Jobcentres to accomplish, and is one that is apparently slightly easier to accomplish that getting a corpse to get up and go to work every day to earn his or her daily bread. Then, apparently, when this task has been done, these unemployable social misfits (probably laughing uproariously at our well-meaning efforts to utterly expunged them with impunity from the antisocial unemployment regime they live under), should also have the good grace to accept the plans which the Government has for them without making the least possible fuss about it as well, or ideally at least.

 But it is not all negativity, it is not that (in their sublimely surprising sanguine state of vegetate existence where all the amenities for existing have been provided for them – gratis) they do not present a lucrative market niche in the ever-growing social and welfare amenities and educational and training facilities market that caters for them. In fact, the long-term unemployed represent a burgeoning business opportunity in this burgeoning area of social enterprise to provide social welfare facilities that, in itself, is a nice profitable market niche. Which is an opportunity for those in big business to create work out of, and so exploit and profit out of these useless social misfits’ uncomfortable social and economic position. This the Government knows well enough already. At least in this way they can still be economically useful units of profit bearing potential, and so contribute to the overall economic recovery as they do so.

 No, despite this, despite even this capacity of the long-term unemployed to create jobs and employment opportunities for others (in the employment education and welfare administration field) to help them find work in the job market, these disgracefully unemployable social misfits, these local Jobcentre rejects, these barking-mad, back-biting mutts fed and kennelled by the Department of Works and Pensions, must be completely and utterly eradicated from the face of the planet. If only it is purely for reasons of good taste and ethical decency, and not sheer economic necessity. Yes, eradicated if not by others around them more used to working hard, long hours for a living hired to do so by the Government, then certainly by themselves alone – expunged from the inside out and consumed from within. Indeed, who in his right mind, in effect, would ever want to be, “One of them!” or be singled out as “social pariahs” by society and its various Government bodies in the first place?

 Without doubt, these utterly useless, antisocial individuals, the long-term unemployed in Britain today, must be destroyed, condemned, expelled, extracted, excised, or, in effect, eradicated from society. In short, the present Government considers that they must be made to pay through the nose for what they do and how they are, and not anymore ever be allowed to require society pay to support their dodgy, unproductive lifestyle at the expense of the average hard working man or woman in the street.

 Ideally, they must be marked out for what they are, preferably by their own inner knowledge of themselves as being nothing else other than totally useless and meaningless nonentities, marked out as being purely unproductive economic and social units in a necessarily economically productive and socially meaningful society. And then, as an added bonus to those working all day, day in, day out, for small financial gain just for something constructive and socially meaningful to do with themselves (and watching what occurs for a leisure and recreational activity), to be eradicated, expunged, excised, or otherwise extirpated from good, decent society as painfully and publicly as possible. This mainly just to teach the long-term unemployed this one hard economic and social lesson in life and which they had better not forget: That there is no such thing as a free meal in the real world.

Posted in Devil's advocate, Sardonic banter, Sophistry, Uncategorizable | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

The Noble Knights of Ni.

There follows below a translation into English (from the original archaic French) of a fragmentary 8th century poem about the noble knights of Ni. It has been done as part of a collaborative effort run and organized by the Department of Romance Languages and Literatures at Harvard. Their on-going aim is to improve the academic coverage on the Internet of the British Arthurian, or King Arthur legend and the parallel noble questing legends in early European literature, which, as a group, have the same cultural origins.

This poem-fragment concerns the questing tale, or legend of the noble knights of Ni, a group of middle aged knights being similar to the knights of the round table, but of a slightly later date, possibly late Anglo-Saxon or proto-Frankish knights of the Holy Roman Empire. If it is not completely legendary a tale, or this poem is not based upon factual historic material, their eventual fate is not recorded in the annuals of chivalry, or is now lost to history.

This poem I have translated myself with the aid of the Google on-line translation service. Unfortunately, it being only an inanimate computer programme, it is not quite used to dealing with ancient French (this copy taken from a 13th century manuscript kept at the Bibliothèque Nationale de France), so some of the wording and word order I had to guess at. Although, despite this limitation, the basic poetic essence of this ancient poem has come out quite well in the translation.
Oh, Needy Knights of Ni.

Oh, needy knights of Ni,
Bon chance to you, fair knights of Ni,
bright keepers of the sacred word of Ni itself;
good hunting to you while riding by, needful knights of Ni,
if but deserving of less sufferance than is due
than this quest reserves for you, noble Knights of Ni.
Yet with it being neither less nor more of what you are,
with nothing you go for it, brave knights of Ni;
nor by doing so, lack it, or not fulfil in full
your needful destiny to do with it.
Ah, noble ones of the order of the knights of Ni,
rejoice, as it can be done, oh noble knights of Ni.
But hark, yet none know the dread heartaches
of being noble knights of Ni none better
than the noble knights of Ni themselves;
nor none better know now, or nor later on neither,
that those heartaches will lead them to it itself also;
and so rejoice that needful things near at hand also
will come flowing from the knights of Ni themselves,
in their knightly quest for eternal over exuberance.
Noble knights, this is your needful quest fulfilled,
oh noble knights of Ni, to become much more
than legend or old song in the hearts of men of old;
perhaps men not from the noble order of Ni themselves,
but equally insistent in their quest for enlightened intercourse.
Oh, noble knights of Ni, on questing on your knightly errantry
based on being from Ni itself, continue being so,
in being those noble knights from Ni itself
sublime in all its purity; and yet it was nobly done
noble knights of Ni, so hastily flashing by in shining armour,
even to attempt such a noble quest for it itself,
one so nobly based on the sacred word it itself represents.
Yes, nobly done, knights of Ni, nobly done.

Posted in Anti Heroes, Literary criticism, Sardonic banter, Spoofs, Twaddle, Uncategorizable | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment