Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog

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samedi, juin 20, 2009

Righteousli off y-pissed


Helas, myn eyne are ful of teres and wepynge for the peple of Iran who marchen yn the streetz and are faced doun by the will of schrewes and wikked men and tirauntz.

Thys putteth me in mynde of the book that comforteth me the moost, the Consolacioun of Philosophie of Boece (of which ich haue made a smal translacioun auailable for a modest pryce at Mayster Pinkhurstes shoppe - buy oon now and get a free copye of the Piers Plowman B-Text as wel as an attractif book-candel for redinge aftir derke yn fireproof areas).

In this fayre and wyse book of the Consolacioun, Lady Philosophie speketh to Boece the writer, who ys put in prison by evil men. Lady Philosophie telleth Boece that the evil haue nat the victorie no mattir how grete their power and prosperitee, and the good haue the victorie no mattir how grete their suffering:

"Thow most nedes knowen that good folk ben alwey strong and myghti, and the schrewes ben feeble and desert and naked of alle strengthes. And of thise thinges, certes, everich of hem is declared and schewed by other. For as good and yvel ben two contraries, yif so be that good be stedfast, thanne scheweth the feblesse of yvel al openly; and yif thou knowe clearly the fraileness of yvel, the stedfastnesse of good is knowen." (Liber Quartus Prosa II)

lundi, juin 15, 2009

Nickel and groted

My gentil rederes,

Ich haue had but litel tyme for poosts of blog syn ich have come home. For home ys where the herte ys, and also where the time-consuming family mattirs lie in wait.

Philippa hath been mightily y-freaked at me for the tyme that ich spent in Vegas. And alas, ich haue lerned that fals is the man who seyd that al thing that happeth in Vegas doth remayne in Vegas - rathir, thos thynges that hap in Vegas aren revisited seven-fold upon eny sely man who thinketh to kepe them undir cover. Ich speke nat of harlotrie, for ich nam nat lyk that, but let me telle yow ich haue nat the goold cuffe-linkes the which Philippa did yeve unto me for ower last anniversarie. Let us just saye that the table of poker knoweth wher thei might be. Methinketh the redy applicacioun of some diamondes and a trip to Fiji wolde remedye the situacioun, but my finances are so bleak that ich wolde rather read The Mayor of Casterbridge than look into my chekke-book.

Litel Lowys groweth moore un-litel everich daye, and now - by Saynt Abelardes misfortune! - he prepareth for the course of universitee. This somer he hath an internship y-taken, and in the fall he shall enter Oxenforde as a geologie major. "But wherefore geologie, my swete son?" ich askid hym. And he seyde to me, "No astrolabes." Every daie he petioneth me for money for clothes, bookes, swete herbes to applyen to his shouldres and nekke, and licorice and cetewale to chewe for to sweeten hys breathe. I do suspecte that amor hath kikked my sone in the shins at the same tyme that college hath hym by the nekke-bone, and temperance cometh nat to hys aid in the tag-team. Yet swich is my love for hym that ich fayne wolde yeve hym al that he wolde aske, but my finances are so bleak that Ich wolde rather joyne the Guild of Zero-Cokereres in Venezuela than look into my chekke-book.

And al of this procedeth from the economic downturn y-causid by the brief rule of the Lords Appellant,
who hath got everything at VIs and VIIs. My job descripcioun hath chaungid. Biforn whan ich was the clerke of the kinges werkes, ich did sum light administracioun of building projectes and got to travel (bandits notwithstondinge). And yet now ther ys no money to paye eny crafter or artisan, and King Richard hath been zealous with the lay-offes. So ich have had to make up for the bad economie by also bicoming an amateur mason, carpenter, plumbre, tiler, dyer, weaver, and eyebrow-plucker (ask nat about the last oon). Many yeeres yn the custoumes hous made me nat a jakke of all trades, and ich haue no idea how to redesign Westminster halle. To yow, the Economie, and to noon other wight complayne I, for ye been so swyved! Ther is sum talk of outsourcing minting to the gold-digginge ants of Ceylon, thogh the commons of parliament may oppose yt.

Ich praye that yow fare better than I. Until next tyme I remayne

Le Vostre
GC