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New Filk: Another Cambredth

Another Cambreadth




BY Joshua Kronengold (with Lisa Padol) n 2021
Structure very consciously pulled from After Cambreadth
words © 1995 John C. Bunnell
music: Heather Alexander (“March of Cambreadth”)
Sung in C minor, Starts on C


Children cry, streets go bare; masks are donned (as) most folk prepare.
Some get sick but fail to die; some are gone ‘fore you say goodbye,
Surgeon’s steel, clean and bright, heals the wounded and cuts out blight,
To the gods our oath we give:
How many of them can we make live?

Bars are closed to slow the spread, Body bags fill up with dead,
ERs mobbed to great degree, wards run low on their PPE,
Scrounge and reuse what you can, no one seems to have a plan,
Hands and sleep and lives we give:
How many of them can we make live?

Through the summer, through the fall, we get used to the protocol,
As the case counts rise and fall, some lose heart once they give their all.
Through the news there comes the word, vaccines once more are deferred,
Till the shots we can take and give,

How many of them can we make live
How many of them can we make live
How many of them can we make live. This entry was originally posted on Dreamwidth, where there are comment count unavailable comments. Comment there or comment here below.
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(no subject)

Due to around half an hour to an hour moving stuff around...and the chrome "tab groups" feature, I'm now down to ONE window from around 8-9 of them. Well, we'll see how long this lasts. This entry was originally posted on Dreamwidth, where there are comment count unavailable comments. Comment there or comment here below.
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Webcomic roundup

I answered a webcomic roundup somewhere else that's more private, and I figure it's long and interesting enough to be worth just pasting here.

This is, to be clear, NOT all the webcomics I follow; just the subset I thought was interesting to write about (plus a few others that I decided to just list).

I read a lot of webcomics (I read them on RSS. If there isn't an rss feed for them or it isn't working I build one). So hilights-only:

  • SpacetrawlerCollapse )
  • PS238Collapse )
  • Gunnerkrigg CourtCollapse )
  • Girl GeniusCollapse )
  • Headless BlissCollapse )
  • Lore OlympusCollapse )
  • MegatokyoCollapse )
  • NamesakesCollapse )
  • Order of the Stick, Questionable Content: People mostly know these.

  • Use Sword on MonsterCollapse )
  • FreefallCollapse )

    The rest are in my NSFW folder, but talking about them isn't NSFW. Roomie is also here but is mostly there because it trips net nanny filters; it stopped showing boobies after the first hundred strips or so (also it's in reruns so boobies ahead).

  • Oglaf!: (who doesn't read oglaf? Some misses, but enough hits to be great).

  • Tiger, TigerCollapse )
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    Mr. Handman

    So, I didn't write any filks during GaFilk. Things happen that way sometimes; I was enjorying vibing out, and playing fiddle (maybe too much? I hope not!), and occasionally (but rarely) singing, and a bit of rehearsal for my small part in the interfilk guest's chorus, but I wasn't in a writing mood.

    Apparently that means I'm inclined to filk after? These things happen sometimes.

    Mr. Handman



    (what happens if I listen to Mr. Sandman in a particularly receptive mood, I guess?)

    By Joshua Kronengold

    May be sung to Mr. Sandman (and probably should be).

    Bung, bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bung, bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bung, bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bung, bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bung, bung, bung, bung, bung

    Mr. Handman, bring me a dream
    Make him the cutest that I've ever seen
    Give him two lips like roses and clover
    Then tell him that his empty days are over

    Mr. Handman, I am full-grown
    But I've no body to call my own
    So, please turn on your magic beam
    Mr. Handman, bring me a dream

    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bring me a dream
    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bung, bung, bung, bung

    Mr. Handman (yes), bring me a home
    Give him a pair of legs with which I can roam,
    Give him a beating heart like Ringo's drumming,
    And feet with ankles that are made for running
    Mr. Handman, Handman, arms that can hold
    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Would be so peachy to settle my code
    So please turn on your magic beam (turn on your magic beam)
    Mr Handman, bring me a dream

    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bring us a dream
    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bung, bung, bung, bung

    Hey! Handman, bring me a dream
    Make him the cutest that I've ever seen
    Just load me in; turn the motor over,
    Then tell me that my empty days are over

    Handman, Handman, I am full-grown
    But I've no body here to call my own
    So, please please please why don't you turn on the magic beam
    Mr. Handman, bring us
    Oh please please please
    Mr. Handman, bring us a dream

    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bring me a dream
    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Make me a dream
    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    We'll be a a team
    Bung, bung, bung, bung
    Bung, bung, bung, bung

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    This be another Verse

    I wrote the changed last stanza for

    This be The (another) verse
    A tiny hack to This Be The Verse (by Philip Larkin) by Joshua Kronengold ([personal profile] mneme)

    They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
    They may not mean to, but they do.
    They fill you with the faults they had
    And add some extra, just for you.

    But they were fucked up in their turn
    By fools in old-style hats and coats,
    Who half the time were soppy-stern
    And half at one another’s throats.

    Man hands on misery to man.
    It passes like the winter flu.
    Be kind to everyone you can,
    So might the world be made anew.

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    Godspeed, friend.

    My long-time friend, Harold Stein ([personal profile] hms42), has finally left us--for nothing, for the great filksing in the sky, for dreams beyond our knowing...but...he's dead.

    I'm...still processing.

    Harold...is difficult to describe. He was pleasant and friendly without ever really being charismatic, eminently competent without ever being comfortable, and a tireless filk saint who was never honored for his service (in his life) except via a listener guest slot at OVFF -- which he had to miss due to his illness, listening to recordings of same less than a day before he died.

    I first met Harold, that I remember, in the halls of Lunacon, as he waxed eloquent about how much he liked filk--having first becoming fascinated with it at I-Con, the Long Island con that has had great filkers, but has never been great for filk (except for introducing new people to the community, where it served an important role despite the diffulty of filk at a con where the evening programming a car ride away from the daytime programming). At this point, I think Harold had attended just two cons with filk -- Lunacon and I-Con. There were many more, afterwards.

    I think (this was after I'd stopped attending I-Con) that I-Con was also where he first took a service role, thanklessly running filk at I-Con for many years before he decided to move on. That wasn't the end of his service, either -- he got digital mini-recorders when the latest generations of them became easily available, and would spend countless hours on a routine of changing out the recorders and backing up the night's haul, almost always closing out the night at NEFilk, OVFF, FKO,local cons, tirelessly worked at the sound boards, produced numerous CDs, (particularly the one-off Interfilk CDs, where after working the boards all convention, he'd package a concert or three to CD and sell them for our perennial fan fund), and took on numerous odd jobs as needed, driving my big harp to several cons and Spencer's gear to many others; and editing the Pegasus Award pages, and helping out the Filk Hall of Fame administrator, and spending his time and money on collecting hard to find filk collections, and helping administer the UK Filk Archive.

    His exhaustive and extensive collection of archives were an amazing resource he spent countless hours on, exclaiming how the work of people writing down what got sung in a room, in a concert, or on a convention album would allow him to identify and index his archives, and then, opening them up to others. He also created -- and in most senses, was -- the tradition of an NEfilk CD, making a CD for each convention to be given out free to members and with remainders auctioned off at other cons for Interfilk, with songs from the guests, from the NEfilk guest for next year, and when he could, from or honoring filkers who had died within the last year.

    And, of course, he also continued to run filk at local cons, particularly Philcon.

    He didn't sing, that I knew, except, rarely, in groups when his voice could hide among others. Or write music, or play an instrument. He just listened, requested, recorded, edited, shared, and collected. It was enough.

    Over the last...I'm not even sure how many years, we ([personal profile] drcpunk and I) fell into the habit of rooming with him at filk conventions. It was comfortable. We'd keep often only partially overlapping hours, and while we were all in the room, he'd talk about his various projects, job things, or ideas for other projects (he had so many ideas. Not all of them were good ideas, but even when you express a bad idea it often sparks a good idea from someone else). Sometimes we had to tell him we needed him to stop talking (so we could sleep, or read, or work), but once we realized he would if we asked, this was fine too. When he got his last car, he drove it over to our place to verify that he could fit my harp into it. (This wasn't because he drove my harp a lot; he drove it a few times, but he figured if the harp fit, a lot of other things would fit too; it's a big harp). We were friends.

    But especially with guy friends, I don't always know what that means. If he had hobbies outside of filk (and Ingress, the ARG I introduced him to, which he continued playing well after I'd mostly made it a sometimes treat and moved on to other electronic geocaching friends (hi, Pokemon Go)) and building computers for people, I didn't know about them (I'm not convinced they exist). I didn't know much about his inner life, other than that he wanted to help people, do things that mattered, and that he ernestly wanted to apologize when he thought he'd wronged someone, wanted to make sure that he got permission before releasing work and didn't record those who didn't want to be recorded.

    I do know that he was endlessly open to new experiences, even when they didn't work out. He would ask us to invite him to gaming nights even though board games weren't a passion of his the way they are mine (and did like them, even though he wouldn't take time out of a con to play them the way I will), would try out any restaurant we would take him to even though when he ordered for himself he tended to go for standard American fare, and would even try everything we ordered when going to more adventurous Asian restaurants, not complaining about the food that didn't work for him, but occasionally remarking that this dish or another one was "too spicy" for him.

    I also knew his health was worse than he pretended. We knew when he got a cancerous melanoma around 10 years ago, though he claimed it was less scary than any cancer is. We knew when the cancer came back a year or three ago, and that he was going through a course of treatment that they hoped would beat the cancer back once again--and when he got the diagnosis that it hadn't worked, wasn't going to work. It was just a month between when he got the report that he had, at most, a couple of years to live, and when the diagnosis went down from months to days or hours.

    I don't think he gave up hope until those last few, horrible days. And even then, when I saw him the day before he died, he couldn't talk, not intelligbly, not anymore, but there was light in his eyes, enthusiasm, love. Hope, I think, of a sort. He wasn't obviously sad; he was frustrated, and happy that friends had come to visit him and sing to him.

    Nothing will change now that he's gone, and everything. Harold wasn't out creating great works, and many of his projects came to nothing or came out only half-right. He wasn't one of my closest friends, although it's possible that I was one of his (one of the world's greatest injustices is that it contains this kind of asymmetry, but there is nothing we can do about it other than be kind).

    But he brought a light--hope, kindness, and an endless heart that would fill up the cracks in the world around him -- with him wherever he went, and without him, that light is gone. Snuffed out from our world. What he did best was to help, and now in place of that help, we have to help one another.

    I will miss him.

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    New song: A Pack of LIes

    I do try not to write in anger. Mostly.

    But since I got blindsided by the most -smug- pro-harassment, pro-puppies song in a while today...wel, this came out.

    A Pack of Lies
    Joshua Kronengold
    may be sung to the tune of Stan Rogers' "Lies"

    At last, the con is quiet for a year,
    The worldcon held in Finland, too much fun for pain and fear,
    The filkers, sharing new and ancient verse,
    The concourse filled with sales and games and lots of fan discourse,

    Sure was a bitter couple of Worldcons for a while,
    Some trolls tried to take over using cheats and hate and guile,
    They thought they could pay money for our prize,
    And tricking fans by posting wicked lies!

    All lies
    All those trolls are telling wicked lies,
    Lies all lies
    They have no shame for their disgrace,
    If you disprove their story, they revise,
    Their pack of wicked lies!

    Are Hugo nominations ruled by TOR?
    That was their story; somehow we don't hear it anymore.
    Are they just fans just wanting to have fun?
    They always seem so angry when the ceremony's done.

    Each time the story changes, like Rashamon it sounds,
    Like they think they can't lose if they keep giving runarounds,
    But every time they give the game a try,
    Why can't they post a better class of lies?

    Those lies,
    All those trolls are telling tired lies,
    Lies all lies
    They have no shame for their disgrace,
    If you disprove their story, they revise,
    Their pack of tired lies!

    And now the pack have come around again,
    This time they say they're being banned for what they think and when,
    It's "censorship" that now ignites their fears,
    Well we've been hosting everyone for over fifty years!

    Your politics don't matter, if you are here for fun,
    Your passion for SF should let you blend with everyone,
    But if you come in hate, say your goodbyes,
    You're banned for breaking rules, and not your lies,

    Those lies,
    All those trolls are telling themselves lies,
    Lies, all lies
    They cannot think they've lost their place,
    So when they see their losses, they revise,
    Their foolish little lies.

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    On humor. And jokes

    So, something you might not know about me. I don't actually know a lot of jokes.

    I mean, I know a few. But mostly, if you tell me a joke, I'll probably try to make one up to follow you. And...I'm not awful at it. Usually.

    Which partially explains this chatlog between me and [personal profile] batshua. Note that every joke I tell except the ones specifically marked I made up on the spot.

    Collapse )
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    Filk: On the Internet

    I finished this (based, naturally, on some previous songs in the circle) about 20 minutes ago.
    So no promises on it not drifting futher, but hey, fresh filk!

    Up on the Internet (Magic)
    by Joshua Kronengold
    to the tune of "Under the Gripping Beast", by Cat Faber

    For a cardboard box that's filled with cards, with five dots on the back,
    Land, artifacts, and colored cards, red, blue, green white and black,
    I bought them from some Wizards, from a land that's near the shore,
    And should I keep on buying them, I'll die forever poor,

    Up on the Internet is the price that they will pay,
    For all my Magic cards, if sell instead of play,
    But the pain of giving up my cards, no sorcery can heal,
    So just until the next release, I will will keep my cards and deal.

    I sat there the first evening, as I tuned up my first deck,
    I shuffled and I played a game, and found that it was dreck.
    But with a few more dozen packs, and tuning for an hour,
    I found my deck could draw some land and tap it all for power,

    Up on the Internet is the price that they will pay,
    For all my Magic cards, if sell instead of play,
    But the pain of giving up my cards, no sorcery can heal,
    So just until the next release, I will will keep my cards and deal.


    As I played, I needed far more cards to meet my decks' demands,
    Rare creatures, moxes, fireballs, time walks, and multilands,
    The next two sets released and shipped, and sold out in a night
    And I resolved to get the next, if I had to wait 'til light,

    Up on the Internet is the price that they will pay,
    For all my Magic cards, if sell, and do not play,
    But the pain of giving up my cards, no sorcery can heal,
    So just until the next release, I will will keep my cards and deal.

    My decks won me a tournament, Mr Suitcase they called me,
    So now those cards could bring me lots and lots of cash money,
    But the thought that I should sell them all is not one I can bear,
    Not even though in Legacy, they find my decks unfair

    Up on the Internet is the price that they will pay,
    For all my Magic cards, if sell instead of play,
    But the pain of giving up my cards, no sorcery can heal,
    So just until the next release, I will will keep my cards and deal.

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    Meme time: Amendment

    Migrated from Miles Vokosigan of FB (who is apparently nolonger in the LJ/DWverse?)

    YOUR MISSION, SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TO ACCEPT IT: If you could add one Amendment to the US Constitution, what would it be?

    Here's mine (warning: it's a mouthful).

    Every citizen of the United States of the age of majority is guarunteed an equal vote and an equal share of representation for senators, as well as for federal, state, and local representitives. Accordingly:

    1. No Citizen of the country at or above the age of majority shall be denied the right to vote for any reason save an act of rebellion.

    2. The states are required to make sure that all citizens are eligible to vote have the ability to vote in both semifinal and final elections, facing no bars such as unreasonable waiting periods, unnecessary voter registration, or unreasonable demands for identification beyond that needed to prove that they are a citizen of the United States (or for local elections, if that is not required, a local reseident).
    a. This also means that a means of voting shall be made available to any citizen who might otherwise have problems voting due to residency, illness, disability, or incarceration.

    3. Henceforward, the President and all other top executive offices of cities, states, and the country will be elected via direct popular vote of the populace.

    4. No bar should be allowed to an equal exercise of the franchise based on any basis except that listed out here -- including location of residence, except that one must be resident within an area in order to vote for their executive officer or representative body or bodies. As such, the practice of Districting for the purpose of determining voting areas is hereby banned; instead, states and all other territories of the United States must use a voting system that apportions representitives in a manner proportional to the voters preferences.

    a. All citizens must be able to vote in national elections and to elect representitives to the governing bodies of this nation, so non-state-resident citizens shall be considered as living in the non-geographical state of United, which shall be given Representitives and Senators as any other state.

    5. In order that no cartel should henceforth control the choices available to our fellow citizens, all elected offices will also have their final candidates set via public and open semifinal elections, which like final elections, must allow choice of multiple candidates and produce fair and proportional results. Thus, there shall be one set of finalists for the Presidency and Vice Presidentcy throughout the nation, rather than separate and potentially contradictory sets of finalists in the several states. Congress shall make laws determining how this election proceeds, and whether the President and Vice President are elected and/or nominated together or separately.

    6. All election days shall henceforth be national holidays, that no ciitzen be prevented by hardship or financial burden from exercising their rights and duty.

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