[W.F. Lantry]

*
*

"Go, bind thou up yon dangling apricocks,
Which, like unruly children, make their sire
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight:
Give some supportance to the bending twigs.
Go thou, and like an executioner,
Cut off the heads of too fast growing sprays,
That look too lofty in our commonwealth:
All must be even in our government.
You thus employ'd, I will go root away
The noisome weeds, which without profit suck
The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers."

Sorry, couldn't help myself! Anyway, it's been a long winter, and I've neglected my pruning duties. My business awhile was with different trees. But now I'm speedily sharpening my falx, and getting ready to cut out the old wood, so the new blossoms may appear.

It's going to take me about 72 hours to get a good edge on it, so consider this fair warning. Every thread with a latest reply date older than March 1 will be mercilessly cut back to the node. This includes threads in Met, Non-Met, the deep end, and Fiction. I'll leave translation off the list for now, until I can consult with the principles.

Remember, once they're gone, they're gone, so if you care about it, save early, and save often, but most of all, Save Now!

We now return you to your regularly scheduled Act III, scene 4:

"Why should we in the compass of a pale
Keep law and form and due proportion,
Showing, as in a model, our firm estate,
When our sea-walled garden, the whole land,
Is full of weeds, her fairest flowers choked up,
Her fruit-trees all upturned, her hedges ruin'd,
Her knots disorder'd and her wholesome herbs
Swarming with caterpillars?"

Yuck! Caterpillars? Geez...

Thanks,

Bill