SNYDERMANIA: wHen piGs flY #17

Sunday, July 11, 2010

wHen piGs flY #17

snYdertooNs

6 comments:

Susan R. Mills said...: Ha! Really you should publish these things. My brother sold some things he he calls Puntoons to a small local magazine. They are cartoons based on puns. He's not getting paid much for them, but it's some satisfaction for the work he's put into them.; July 12, 2010 at 4:13 PM
#167 Dad said...: This comment has been removed by the author.; July 12, 2010 at 5:30 PM
#167 Dad said...: Susan,
Someone is actually getting paid for his work? There is hope yet.
Thanks for the positive mojo; July 12, 2010 at 5:31 PM
Momma Fargo said...: LOL. I think you need another book in your future! I agree with Susan.; July 12, 2010 at 10:11 PM
#167 Dad said...: Momma,
I'm digging the good mojo.; July 13, 2010 at 10:23 AM
Guely of Sweden said...: "Epiphany" that's a word i like a lot (really)it's meaning evokes certain magic for the mind. Cool to find it in your funny paper!; July 16, 2010 at 1:35 PM

NORTHERN EXPOSURE

Goethe's final words: "More light." Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that's been our unifying cry: "More light." Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlight. Neon. Incandescent. Lights that banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier's field. Little tiny flashlight for those books we read under the covers when we're supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home- Lead Thou me on! Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light is light.

FIELD OF DREAMS

Well, you know I... I never got to bat in the major leagues. I would have liked to have had that chance. Just once. To stare down a big league pitcher. To stare him down, and just as he goes into his windup, wink. Make him think you know something he doesn't. That's what I wish for. Chance to squint at a sky so blue that it hurts your eyes just to look at it. To feel the tingling in your arm as you connect with the ball. To run the bases - stretch a double into a triple, and flop face-first into third, wrap your arms around the bag. That's my wish, Ray Kinsella. That's my wish. And is there enough magic out there in the moonlight to make this dream come true?