Thursday, December 01, 2005

REFERENCE -- "The Moffitt" posted at Fraters Libertas

Posted by Craig Westover | 12:00 AM |  

Posted at Fraters Libertas under the pseudonym "John of Stillwater."

I've been following the trolling of the American Lung Association's Bob Moffit on various websites. It seems he never makes any logical arguments to support the necessity of a smoking ban. When it comes to the right of people to choose the activities they want to pursue on private property, Bob just says "Nevermore."

The Moffitt

Once upon a midnight dreary, a bar owner sat weak and weary,
Burdened by many a troublesome sign of things in store,
While she nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at her tavern door.
`'Tis some customer,' she muttered, `tapping at my tavern door -
Only one, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly she remembers busy times of past Decembers,
Long before when dying embers wrought their ash inside her door;
Bravely she did fight her sorrow, she had work to do tomorrow
Helping bars to gone to borrow -- take the risk they had before --
For the rare and radiant freedom that this land had meant before --
Nameless, she feared, evermore.

And the sudden, sad and certain closing of each smoke-free tavern
Chilled her - filled her with fantastic anger never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of her heart, she stood repeating
`'Tis some customer entreating entrance at my tavern door -
Some late customer entreating entrance at my tavern door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently her soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said she, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so few customers come rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my tavern door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here she opened wide the door; -
Cigarette butts, nothing more.

Back into the tavern turning, all her soul within her burning,
Soon again she heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said she, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my anger still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis annoying nothing more!'

Open here she flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped the saintly Moffitt like a sacramental whore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched infront her tavern door -
Perched upon a case of Lennie's slid in front her tavern door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this rather odd bird beguiling her sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
'Though thy title be impressive, she said, 'your manner's quite oppressive --
Ghastly, grim, self-righteous, self-absorbent, bureaucratic boar --
Your presence is confusing, not amusing. Leave by going through the door!'
Quoth the Moffit, 'Nevermore.'

And the Moffitt, sitting lonely on the Lennie's, spoke only,
That one word, as if his brain in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a statistic did he stutter -
Till she scarcely more than muttered 'Other fiends have flown before -
Tomorrow you will leave me, as petty tyrants flew before.'
Quoth the Moffitt, 'Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by open arrogance so spoken,
'Doubtless,' said she, 'what he utters is his only stock and store,
Bought by some soulless master uncaring of disaster
Heaped fast and followed faster 'till all taverns close the door --
'Till all choice is gone forever, forever closed the door,
To open never, nevermore.'

Then, she thought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by those that for others would decide what smells should fill the air.
'Whore' she cried so that's your mission, make me choose abject submission
Abandon my dreams for those you deem are worthy more --
Abandon my dreams for the "perfection" only you adore?'
Quoth the Moffitt, 'Nevermore.'

'Be that word our sign of parting, man and fiend!' she shrieked upstarting -
'Get thee back into the darkness and depart from freedom's shore!
Leave no black post as a token of the lies thy lips hath spoken!
My resolution is unbroken! - quit the beer infront my door!
Take thy nose from out my business, and take thy ass out through the door!'
Quoth the Moffitt, 'Nevermore.'

And the Moffitt, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
Not just on the Lennie's but in front of every free man's door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
Of new plans and ways of scheming to take the freedom we adore --
Let us not grant him our whimper, but let him hear our roar --
"Freedom ever, EVERMORE!"

Posted by Chad The Elder l link