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Chronicles of the Knights Simplar
Looking for Logic on the Liberal Left...this may take awhile

Thank God for Sean Penn!

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Message from the Scribe- Please forgive the lack of substantial new updates to the Chronicles of the Knights Templar, and their last known knight, the goode Sir Tad. I have been busy working on final projects in Scribe School. My classes this term were Quills 110-Which one is right for you?, Ink and Society 220-Colour choices and their implications on cultural memes-can you afford not to be color blind?, and my required class on Feminist Epistemologies and Pedagogy 120- But what have you done for me lately? (It may have been required; but it was still my favorite of the three-you should have seen the teacher, Ms. Hunidsmen-grrrrrr!) (That last comment was intended in a non-patriarchal dominated, gender-neutral, eco-feminist supportive type of way.)

As last reported, our courageous knight was on his way to visit with the intrepid and brave and goodly actor Sean Penn, who was playing the role of a journalist taking the pulse on "the street" (to use the savvy journalistic vernacular) in the former Persian Empire (and to, perhaps, shop for a new rug.) Alas, once again, the goode Sir Tad was caught by messenger*, and learned that the deft goode Sean has now moved to New Orleans to help the victims of Katrina. He met up with Sean just before he launched his vessel of rescue.

And so kindly reader, I will let Sir Tad take iteth from here.

Sir Tad-"Thank you good scribe, and by the way, you should really have that cold sore looked at."

"Hail aynd harketh to myne fyne Sir Sean. Thate thys thyne mater is wonders precyous, wythe thyne entent of it is more gracyous styll. Thou hath cometh yonder to gyve thoust goode abettyng upon thyne Felawshype. Myne wytnesseth of "Faste Tymes at Rychmonde Hye" knoweth none bowndes. Praye to thee, D'ost thou styll keepeth yn touché wyth thy fayre maydn Phoebe Cates, fore myne mynd styll wondyrs bayk to thayt swymmyng poole seyne, and YOWSA! Myte I begeth thee so thate I maye hayv her fonne nombre?"

"Why the hell are you talking like that?" said Sean.

"Sorry," I said, as I unburdened Peanut of my plate mail armor’s weight, "I really am trying to work on that."

"What’s with the getup?" queried the multi-cultural embracing and accepting Sean. "It is the least protection I can afford us on our dangerous quest. Do I notice that you too are wearing a type of armor?"

"Uh, yeah, it’s a flak jacket. It’s total anarchy down here, with the right wing, neo-con, Halliburton controlled government doing nothing to stop the peaceful victims of this terrible and devastating tragedy from randomly shooting the relief workers," replied Sean.

"Ah yes," I replied, "both Peanut and I indulge in the safety of armor, as you can see, except on Fridays of course, when we get to wear Dockers." Hearing this, Peanut winced away and hung his head low. Knowing what the matter was, I said to Peanut in an affirmative tone, "You can too wear them; it's just that not everyone looks good in pleats-we'll hit the outlet store next week, I promise."

Turning my attention back to Sean, I asked him about the wisdom of venturing upon the water wearing armor of any sort. Granted, I too was wearing it, but at least I was outfitted with the Holy Water Wings of Saint Adjutor, the Patron Saint of doggy-paddlers, but then I realized that God would protect the keepers of his brothers.

Sean and his essential crew of two personal assistants and a personal photographer began to shove off in the crowded boat to give aid to those in need. I called out that it may be prudent to plug the drain hole in the bottom of the boat, but it was too late. Luckily, the goode Sir Sean had some type of beverage cup in hand to bail accordingly. When the outboard motor on the boat failed to start, the expert crew of personal assistants and celebrity personal photographer jumped into action and begain rowing with paddles. To witness such courage and resourcefulness!

When a nearby reporter callously asked the goode Sir Sean what he hoped to achieve, he gave it right back to them by saying,"whatever I can do to help." Another attack was launched at the would be rescuers when a by-stander asked, "How are you going to get any people in that thing ?"

"Let me handle this one for you, Sean! For I am emboldened by your example," I yelled. He was afraid of being shot; he should be afraid of drowning in a bullet proof vest; he had to frantically bail water out of the tiny, crowded boat while people paddled. Didn't this callous by-stander understand the goode Sir Sean had enough to worry about?

Check out Sean's future plans at Iowahawk's Nawlins News Niblets!


*Note from the Editor-While Sir Tad is the last known questing Knight Simplar, the Knights Simplar Organization as a whole still boasts a very healthy bureaucracy, complete with Marketing, R&D, HR, Regulatory and Quality, Accounting and Controlling (Payables and Receivable), IT, Logistics (Squire, Smithy, and Stable-worker Union, Local 755), and a fitness center with aerobics classes.
9/06/2005 01:37:00 AM |
2 Comments:
  • So his boat sank. So what. At least he was there trying to do something. All the wackos can say what they want. If they give money and support, fine. It's welcomed. I'm going back home next week to help out. My parents and relatives got flooded. It's better now, but there is a ton of work to do. Great Blog!

    By Blogger C R Mountjoy - GDF, at 3:26 PM  
  • This was hilarious. Scooping his boat out with a cup so as not to sink. That is rich!

    By Anonymous Mark Cross, at 11:49 PM  
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