I threw this post together while on my lunch break. It was really just a jaunty, silly little exercise. I spent the rest of my day in relative news-silence, and posted this only to discover that the wonderful Elisabeth Sladen passed away today.

So I'll keep the post as is otherwise, but I did want to pay my respects to our Sarah Jane Smith first. It was a pleasure watching you on screen, madam.


Some day I will understand how it is I can be so lucky in fannish things, and have not a bit of luck in others. But tonight at the Bell House is ANOTHER 2-part premiere of Doctor Who season 6, and I’m GOING. My 4th Doctor Scarf is in my bag, and in my impatience for 7 pm to arrive due to the fact I lack a functioning TARDIS, I’ve started reminiscing about when I was knitting my Doctor scarf in the first place.

But since I’m bored, and too bored to write a proper post recollecting my geekish knitting experience, I’ve put down in ballad form!

…very BAD ballad form. I never said I was any GOOD at poetry.

Artistic liberty artistically had its merry way with the Facts, M’am.

I present to you…

The Ballad of the Scarf )
agentanachronism: by sobata (God DAMNIT England)
( Jun. 2nd, 2009 11:12 am)
England, I love you. You know this. I love you like the older, quirky half brother I might actually have (ah, the joys of being adopted). Your history, culture, patterns of speech, comedic turns, good times and bad amuse me greatly. You know that, push come to shove, I'd help John Adams drop kick Thomas Jefferson in the face if I could for saying France was better than you. And I know you're a nanny state, and your royal family is silly, and you're neck in neck with America for the title of "White Trashiest Country in the World", but your flaws...well, they've always been part of your charms.

But Good God, England, this is going too far.

England, you need another Chesterton and a good smack upside the head. Now, I know I could never hope to fill the intellectual shoes of that man, but don't make me come over there with a couple of friends and A Flying Inn.

I mean, my brother and I had HIGH HOPES--mainly involving you, us, a whirlwind run around Cornwall and a pub crawl throughout your land. My brother and I HAD A TOUCHING, BROTHER/SISTER BONDING MOMENT over this. DON'T DO THIS TO ME, ENGLAND.


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