Sunday, November 03, 2019


Like dare I say the vast majority of people -- certainly most normal people, of which I am one -- when I wake up in the morning I have a song in my heart and a skip in my head.

Specifically, the Monty Python Holzfällerlied, from 1972.

From Wikipedia:
"Das lied beginnt als harmloser shanty, der das leben eines holzfällers in idealisierter weise beschreibt; ab der zweiten strophe nimmt der text eine bizarre wendung: Der sänger gibt an, in frauenkleider zu schlüpfen und in bars herumzuhängen. Zunächst stutzend und bereits etwas irritiert, macht der mountie-chor diese wendung noch mit."
Zitat ende.

Always (!) irritate authority figures with one's wendungen.
It shows that one is still vibrantly alive.
Canadians appreciate that.

Over the years I have known innumerable Canadian holzfällers, many of them dressed in frauenkleider an mehreren tagen der woche, and at least seventy percent of them were vibrantly alive.

Quite unlike die nordamerikanische beutel rat.

I don't like marsupials, because the nasty little buggers resist the reduction of psychological phenomena to physical states; unlike the typical holzfäller, they are opponents of Cartesian dualism.

Canadian food: Cannelloni, lasagna, moussaka, lobster thermidor, escalopes de veau a l'estragon avec endives gratinéed with cheese.
And roast possum.

[Rub the possum inside and out with flour, salt, pepper, and paprika. Lay it on the rack above a roasting pan, pour in some water, cover with foil, and roast 45 minutes. Serve with a fresh garden salad and warm crusty sourdough.]

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