BCC administration today suggested that we need more posts. “Ten thousand more,” they said. This is my response:
Who wishes so? If we are marked to be read than
Those gentle readers who do partake of our fare
Shall be blessed, and those who do not accurs’d shall be,
But to wish this day for more posts?
Nay. The fewer posts the greater
Share of honor shall be ours.
By Jove I care not for what hits upon these dark pages
we do receive, nor care I to prance re any such pale statistics,
But comments? If it be sin to covet comments,
Then in troth I am guilty of the blackest heart, and
My name is besmirched with that pride
That marked sweet Eden’s serpent.
No. Faith, I wish not one more paragraph.
For I would not lose that honor that such
Numerous comments bring. Posts? I
Wish not one more! Proclaim it!
Those commenters
Who will not gladly comment on this day
I would fain be rid of their company.
This day is call’d the feast of Crispian.
And she that comments on this day,
Will stand tip-toe when this day is named
And rouse her when this day is remembered.
She shall pull out this post and show with pride
her comments,
And say ‘These flamings I had on Crispian’s day.’
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What comments he made that day.
Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-Evans the King, Bishop Mark,
Tracy of the artistic hand, Bold Margaret, Kristine the Wise, Bright Cynthia,
Of Jo(h)ns four—Lordly all, Gentle Kathryn, Kevin and Scott of Bs,
Karen the Brave, Head Master Ronan, Fair Amri the Fun, Brad the Bright,
J. of the N-S, Norbert of the North, Witty Rebecca,
Fierce Russell, Mighty and Strong Kris, Splendid Natalie, and
Sam The Magnificent.
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of bloggers;
And those that comment on this day shall be our fellows,
Be they ever so trollish,
But this day shall grant insight to their comment.
And those offline this day shall
Think themselves accurs’d they where not here
With us today and hold their profile
Cheap whiles any speaks that
Blogged with us on Saint Crispin’s day.
.
.
.
.
.
So come now fair lads and lassies,
Let us be merry, and let all comments
To this silly post
Be this day penned with a hey nonny nonny
And in that gentle and most noble style of the Bard
and thus honor this blessed St. Crispin’s Day
By Common Consent, a Mormon Blog 
Would you say I liked this post too much if I just woke up my wife by doing a jig on the bed and yelling “FREEDOM”?
Okay, I didn’t do that, but I definitely pissed her off a couple of times with those snort laughs.
We band of bloggers. I do indeed stand a-tip-toe.
What we need is more Sideblog entries — it keeps my facebook profile lively and gives the impression that I am cool
Oh brave new BCC world, that has such bloggers in it
Though I have not the gift of poetry
With honor I here leave my memory.
Once more into the breach!
Once more…into the breach!
Great speech – here’s the latest from historians:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/25/world/europe/25agincourt.html?_r=1&hpw
I’ll call Glendower, who’ll summon the spirit of Prince Hal from the vasty deep, who, fully grown and become Henry V, will strike your head from your neck in a single blow!
Don’t even try arguing that you don’t deserve it!
Bill. I would rather not be confused by the facts. If the story was true enough for Shakespeare it is true enough for me. If I stop believing that where does it stop. Next thing you know someone will claim president hinckley did not really say we were all generals in the pre existence
I would fain become a goatish reeling-ripe flax-wench could I not comment on so fine a post as this.
I am at this very moment imitating the action of the Tyger, and my eye is lent a terrible aspect; my Teeth are set, my Nosthrill stretched wide.
Damn cold.
Awesome…uhhh…eth.
Question, StevenP: Why are you so cool?
madhousewife hath made my day.
Let there be sung ‘Non nobis’ and ‘Te Deum’…
until they both be seared into our mem’ry, yea, and all of us, sisters and brethren, be found humming still the blasted tune unconsciously many days hence.
What win you, if you gain the thing you seek?
A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy.
Who writes a minute’s mirth to wail a week?
Or sells eternity to ‘get a toy?
For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy?
Or what fond bloggar, but to touch the crown,
Would with a flame-war straight be strooken down?
(Sorry – not very merry; I’m strooken down by melancholia!)
So, who is the BCC Falstaff?
While I fain would preface battle with fair speech,
I’d rather fight one with a longbow’s reach.
What Internet world is this
That hath such creatures in it?
you forgot Steven teh awesome.
Our Permabloggers went forth to the Bloggernacle
With grace and myght of chyvalry
Their God for them wrought mervelusly;
Wherefore BCC may call and cry . . . Deo gratias!
Accursed I am. Truly accursed.
There are more things ‘twixt heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your Bloggernacle.