Posted - 06/05/2005 : 17:10:58
Back when I posted on some message boards consistently, I adopted the custom title "Sarcastic Jackass Extraordinaire" (probably ripping it off after seeing someone adopt it first). That led to some people, hilariously, trying to ignore my posts on that basis, accusing me of trolling and intentionally riling up others. But damnit, I'm proud of being in this exclusive club, and so should you! In fact, I felt proud enough of it one of these recent days that I composed a poem to, hopefully, somewhat accurately convey the motivations, hopes and overall beliefs of us condescending nonsense-debunking bastards everywhere. Without further ado:
The Sarcastic Jackasses' Creed
Believe we do in one mankind,
Not superstitions, scams--all kinds--
Or other lies;
Believe as well, we do, that "faith"
Is nonsense, masked.
What's true is true, remains quite safe
From questions asked;
Our trust is rarely thrown around,
To men or gods.
The latter, curiously, sound
Like jokes or clods;
A bearded, vengeful, sexist prude
Up in the sky?
One who, no less, is his own brood,
His own son... why
Such stories make as little sense
As any Zeus.
But they're believed--in present tense--
The grownup's Seuss!
Our twisted sense of humor rocks,
With it, stupidity we'll mock,
From all directions;
Mad cultists, bigots, other quacks,
They're all fair game.
Their "logic's" gaping, half-assed cracks
Bring untold shame
On all humanity. In fact,
We hope, in time,
Our ranks will swell, those scamming hacks
Won't get a dime
Dispensing medical advice,
Killing, preventing armistice,
At hard-earned facts exposing myth,
At women's rights,
At those who wake up, take a whiff
And see the light;
And join us, tentatively first,
But soon aware
Of just how much a Stone Age verse
Can be a snare
That trips up reason, common sense,
And even brothers turns against
Each other, mindless.
We fear, a single scary verse
That neighbors, friends, loved ones were cursed,
For doubting this--oh, sin of sins!--
"It can't be true," that justice wins;
That Hell's too long!
We'll triumph yet: like shooting cod,
It's all too easy
Debating, smacking down the sods,
Making them queasy;
Though, we believe, the scammer's strength
Lies not in reason.
It may yet last for quite a length,
For many seasons...
Is poor technique.
They scheme, inflict their mental bonds
On those too meek
To challenge them, point out B.S.
Despite the scent.
Or innocents, who wouldn't guess
There was dissent.
Believe, we do, that our best friend
Is solid knowledge.
No wonder all the hucksters tend
Not to acknowledge
Rebuttals, challenges, the facts:
They gain the most when their claims lack
So be a "jackass": "save" (err, wake)
A friendly soul.
Or at the least, a moron rake
Over the coals!
Send this unsolicited to 10 people on the fifth full moon in June while drinking a Guinness, and you'll win... just kidding!
Edited by - WinAce on 06/05/2005 17:11:21