Friday, January 2, 2009
The itinerant journalist's prayer for the new year
Say, big guy, how's about a little something for the scribes and Pharisees?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Ink-Stained Corpses
Oh! The humanity! Confessions and contentions of a semi-employed journalist
Everything you need to know about the outlook for newspapers in 2009
The harpoon was darted; the stricken whale flew forward; with igniting velocity the line ran through the groove;--ran foul. Ahab stooped to clear it; he did clear it; but the flying turn caught him round the neck, and voicelessly as Turkish mutes bowstring their victim, he was shot out of the boat, ere the crew knew he was gone. Next instant, the heavy eye-splice in the rope's final end flew out of the stark-empty tub, knocked down an oarsman, and smiting the sea, disappeared in its depths.
For an instant, the tranced boat's crew stood still; then turned, "The ship? Great God, where is the ship?"
For an instant, the tranced boat's crew stood still; then turned, "The ship? Great God, where is the ship?"