Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's BĂȘte Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com

Friday, May 20, 2005


I gotta admit it -- the 2-year-old's addiction to the Michigan Men's Glee Club is starting to get to me. I like the music -- a LOT -- but not THAT much. And when I start to learn the words from sheer repitition --

"Here they come with banners flying!" --

that's kind of jaunty, that's colorful --

"Now we their praises sing for the glory and fame they brought us" --

the tune rocks, but the grammatically convoluted, tiresome words, especially after the 30th time in 2 months, and I can't even console myself by thinking of parallels to Pindar, the Classical Greek sports poet whom I'm not that crazy about anyway . . .

One line I do like, a lot, from the alma mater, "The Yellow and Blue" (written by a grad of the class of 1878):

"Yellow the stars as they ride through the night and reel in a rollicking crew."

Drunken, partying stars. Midwest anthropomorphizing paganism at its finest.
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