Honorverse Humor or lack thereof.

dreamrider wrote:I checked Wikipedia 1999 - Year in Science, and there was nothing for that date.

dreamrider

Searching Google for July 19th, 1999 brings up this as the first result: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvKiMXLHNg4

Hi Vince,

Thanks, I'd forgotten, it happened to be my XXrd birthday.

L

Vince wrote:

dreamrider wrote:I checked Wikipedia 1999 - Year in Science, and there was nothing for that date.

dreamrider

Searching Google for July 19th, 1999 brings up this as the first result: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvKiMXLHNg4

Chief, "I saw this on DeviantArt and it made me think of David Weber's two boys inspired the treecats, now gone:



http://luisbc.deviantart.com/art/little-angel-487654355

Mange, <You're a big softie, Chief.>

"Yah."

Poker & Mange

And yet a third posting of Honor at the Bat. Sometimes, one must yield to the stronger forces of nature — one's friends. A major cosmetic change and a few other modifications to assist rhythm and punctuation.

But mostly to appease the many friends who strongly insist that both the parody and the original appear together. Of course, the material hails from, The Battle of Manticore, in David Weber's At All Costs.

Cthia's third attempt at bat — hopefully, a hit.

***********Honor at the Bat***************

The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Home Fleet ships that day;
The score stood four to two with but two more fleets to play.
And then when D'Orville died up first and Kuzak did the same
A sickly silence fell on most the ships that had remain'd.
A straggling few rose up to fight but only in despair,
They knew they'd only die, in haughty grandeur there.
Clinging to their stations, hope eternal in the breast;
All we need is Sally — Mander she's our best.
They thought, if only Honor could get but a whack at that
They'd put up even credits, now, with Honor at the bat.
But Chin preceded Honor in shaping what's at stake,
When Smirnoff's LACs chimed in, holy hell had lit the cake.
Upon that stricken list of ships melancholy sat,
There seemed but little chance of Honor getting to the bat.
But 'Keon let drive a single, raised hell in Genevieve's packs
And Alice Truman's Katanas tore the hell outta Haven's LACs.
When debris had shifted and CIC plotted what had occurred
Although plenty was left of Second, just enough was left of Third.
Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled in the quadrant, it echoed 'Oh? Do tell.'
A prayer went thru the junction and an answer came at that,
For Honor — mighty Honor, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Honor's manner as she hypered into place;
There was purpose to Honor's bearing, and scorn on Honor's face.
And when she ignored the remnants, of Third Fleet in the realm,
No single spacer could ever doubt, 'twas Honor at the helm.
Thousands counted on her as she wiped her hands like dirt
Had settled between her fingers, but the brass gleamed on her shirt.
While the cocky Genevieve placed hands upon her hips,
Defiance gleamed in Honor's eye, a sneer curled Honor's lips.
The enormous salvo shot from the massive pods she'd rolled;
Genevieve said, "No worry, they're too far out I'm told."
But then Chin contemplated 'Of all the lunacy in the land,
If Third Fleet was just destroyed, then who was this at hand?'
Close by sturdy Apollo, the missiles unheeded sped –
"They're much too far to reach," said Chin. "Strike one," Honor said.
From the bridges, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the bulkheads on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill her! Kill her Honor!" Shouted someone in the stand.
And it's likely they'd a-killed him had not Honor raised her hand.
With a smile of Tester's author'ty Honor's visage shown;
She stilled the rising tumult; She bade her ship go on.
When comprehension dawned on Chin she threw a mortal fit,
"Eighth Fleet! The Salamander! Hyper Out!" she said, "Oh shit!"
The Salamander didn't linger — turned to tactical and said
"Target that other fleet, fire sixty missiles instead.
By the time they reach them, strike two, Fifth will all be dead."
The sneer is gone from Honor's lips as she pounded Fifth to its fate.
There's calm and cool on Manticore, no more fighting as of late.
And Tourville's confidence is shaken as Honor lets it go;
His hopes of winning another gone, from the force of Honor's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
Haven came to play with gall — mighty Honor struck them out.

****** *


Casey at the Bat
by Ernest Lawrence Thayer ©

Published: The Examiner (06-03-1888)

The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that -
We'd put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And its likely they'd a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.

"Phin"

Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer ©

.

Hello Cthia,

Welcome back and thanks for making me smile here.

L

cthia wrote:And yet a third posting of Honor at the Bat. Sometimes, one must yield to the stronger forces of nature — one's friends. A major cosmetic change and a few other modifications to assist rhythm and punctuation.

But mostly to appease the many friends who strongly insist that both the parody and the original appear together. Of course, the material hails from, The Battle of Manticore, in David Weber's At All Costs.

Cthia's third attempt at bat — hopefully, a hit.

***********Honor at the Bat***************

The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Home Fleet ships that day;
The score stood four to two with but two more fleets to play.
And then when D'Orville died up first and Kuzak did the same
A sickly silence fell on most the ships that had remain'd.
A straggling few rose up to fight but only in despair,
They knew they'd only die, in haughty grandeur there.
Clinging to their stations, hope eternal in the breast;
All we need is Sally — Mander she's our best.
They thought, if only Honor could get but a whack at that
They'd put up even credits, now, with Honor at the bat.
But Chin proceeded Honor in shaping what's at stake,
When Smirnoff's LACs chimed in, holy hell had lit the cake.
So upon that stricken list of ships melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Honor's getting to the bat.
But 'Keon let drive a single, raised hell in Genevieve's packs
And Alice Truman's Katanas tore the hell outta Haven's LACs.
When debris had shifted and CIC plotted what had occurred
Although plenty was left of Second, just enough was left of Third.
Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled in the quadrant, it echoed 'Oh? Do tell.'
A prayer went thru the junction and an answer came at that,
For Honor, mighty Honor, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Honor's manner as she hypered into place;
There was purpose to Honor's bearing, and scorn on Honor's face.
And when she ignored the remnants, of Third Fleet in the realm,
No single spacer could ever doubt, 'twas Honor at the helm.
Thousands counted on her as she wiped her hands like dirt
Had settled between her fingers, but the brass gleamed on her shirt.
While the cocky Genevieve placed hands upon her hips,
Defiance gleamed in Honor's eye, a sneer curled Honor's lips.
The enormous salvo shot from the massive pods she'd rolled;
Genevieve said, "No worry, they're too far out I'm told."
But then Chin contemplated. Of all the lunacy in the land,
If Third Fleet was just destroyed, then who was this at hand?
Close by sturdy Apollo, the missiles unheeded sped-
"They're much too far to reach," said Chin. "Strike one," Honor said.
From the bridges, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the bulkheads on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill her! Kill her Honor!" Shouted someone in the stand.
And it's likely they'd a-killed him had not Honor raised her hand.
With a smile of Tester's author'ty Honor's visage shown;
She stilled the rising tumult; She bade her ship go on.
When comprehension dawned on Chin she threw a mortal fit,
"Eighth Fleet! The Salamander! Hyper Out!" she said, "Oh shit!"
The Salamander didn't linger — turned to tactical and said
"Target that other fleet, fire sixty missiles instead.
By the time they reach them, strike two, Fifth will all be dead."
The sneer is gone from Honor's lips as she pounded Fifth to its fate.
There's calm and cool on Manticore, no more fighting as of late.
And Tourville's confidence is shaken as Honor lets it go;
His hopes of winning another gone, from the force of Honor's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
Haven came to play with gall — mighty Honor struck them out.

****** *


Casey at the Bat
by Ernest Lawrence Thayer ©

Published: The Examiner (06-03-1888)

The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that -
We'd put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And its likely they'd a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.

"Phin"

Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer ©

Speaking of baseball jokes, an oldie but goodie:

Theswerd wrote:Captain Costello leaned back in his chair as his squadron XO stepped into the office.

"Heeeeeey, Abbott, what do you have for me?"

Well," Cmdr. Abbott took a chair across the desk from his captain nd once again considered how to approach a serious matter with his somewhat... addle-minded, superior. "We have the matter of switching up the patrol schedule again. I thought we could hand some of it off onto the new tincans the admiralty sent our way."

Costello nodded. "Sounds good. What do you have in mind?"

Abbott checked his notes. "Well, the way I worked up the Schedule, I've got Hu's on First patrol, Wat's on second, and Adonahue on Third."

Costello's eye's narrowed... "You've got the schedule worked out?"

"... Yes sir..."

"And it's on your notes?"

"Yes sir."

"Then who's on First Patrol?"

"That's right."

"Who."

"Yes sir."

"The man's name on First Patrol."

"Hu."

"The man on First."

"Hu!"

"The commander of the tin can on First Patrol!"

"Hu's on First Patrol!"

"THAT'S WHAT I WANNA FIND OUT, IS WHAT'S THE GUYS NAME OF FIRST PATROL!"

"No, sir, Wat's on Second patrol!"

"I dunno who!"

"Adonahue is on Third patrol, sir!"

*Theswerd Whistles an innocent tune as he wanders away...*

Poker

Unlike Ebola, Solarian stupidity is heir borne.

Newsflash:
Solarian stupidity has been upgraded to a weapon of mass destruction.

[quote="pokermind"]Speaking of baseball jokes, an oldie but goodie:

[quote="Theswerd"]Captain Costello leaned back in his chair as his squadron XO stepped into the office.

"Heeeeeey, Abbott, what do you have for me?"

Poker --

That's one of my favorite routines !
Who's on First
What's on Second
I don't know who's on Third
Today's the pitcher
Tomorrow's the catcher
Why, Because are outfielders
and I Don't Give a Darn at shortstop

-- Stewart

Chief, "George Takei (Star Trek's Original Sulu) posted this on Facebook, and it works even better in Honorverse with our treecats."

Mange, <But the People are gray or dappled brown NOT orange!>

"Treecats so literal minded!"

Poker & Mange