And like a pheonix rising from the ashes…

This site is now open again; new parodies to be added within the week.

I am the very model of a modern labour minister : a tribute to the national id card

Animation is here, canonical archive of lyrics are here

I am the very model of a cartoon individual

YouTube Video with Animaniacs song with Anime visuals

I am the very model of a Princeton Seminarian

Another YouTube video

The Very Model of a Modern Network TV Show (BSG/Studio 60)

Video: on YouTube.

I am the very model of a great artistic director

Author: Tom Epstein

I am the very model of a great Artistic Director,
Backstage I swing a hammer
With the same authority as Thor;
I know the way to stage a fight
That reads from all around the house-
From rapier duels, to quarterstaffs,
And punches straight to big roundhouse.
I am very well acquainted, too,
With matters high dramatical,
Like sighs, and moans, and glances thrown,
And atmospheres piratical;
And romances historical and farces operatical-
From Cyrano and Robin Hood,
To Pirates Penzancancical!
I am very good at staging, too,
The plays writ by the Avon Bard,
And I can talk for hours, days, weeks even,
Without breathing hard-
In short, with plays that make ‘em soar,
Then stand and roar, and yell for more,
I am the very model of a great Artistic Director.

In fact, when I know what is meant by
“Oops, I goofed!” or “Gee, you’re right!”,
When I can hear advice, and then
Not take it as a dreadful slight,
When I can hear a differing opinion
And not blow a fuse,
And stop insisting that each actor
Work at least a million crews.
When I can meet my own demands
Regarding punctuality,
And turn rehearsal schedules
From guess to actuality,
iF even once I’d know my book
On opening night without a doubt-
But then, you’d all have absolutely
Nothing to complain about!
So, upon further reflection
I’ve decided to change nothing, nix,
For after all, as someone said,
It’s hard to teach old dogs new tricks.
And in my field, it’s typical, to be très egotistical-
Hence I’m the very model of a Director Artistical.

(Sondheim’s Song) I am the very model of a cult broadway phenomenon

Author: Lolly

I am the very model of a cult broadway phenomenon
Tho some may find my music soporific not insomnium
My Lyrics were not cynic when ‘comp’nied by a Bernstein score
But trickier and sickier, applied to barbers carnivore
Thos audience disparages, SoHo residents Fascinate
by Greenwich village marriages and presidents assasinate
In Night Music, Send the Clowns was verily a droller song
than bitter bit of patter pert in Merrilly We Roll Along

Tho’ Follies was so jolly good, the public would defeat us – hey
they only came Into the Woods to see Bernadette Peters play
Sunday in the Park with George, and Company would often ease
The box office that struck out when I copied Aristophenes

I’ll have to find another theme – I’ll search and search and search in vain
I know I’ll write a musical ’bout Desert Storm, and S’dam Hussein
It seems today the public prefer shows that have a bomb in ‘em
I am the very model of a cult Broadway phenomenon

… modern Unitarian

Author: Rev. Christopher Raible

I am the very model of a modern Unitarian,
Far broader than a Catholic, Hindu, Jew or Presbyterian.
I know the world’s religions and can trace their roots historical
From Moses up to Channing, all in order categorical.
I’m very well acquainted, too, with theories theological,
On existential questions I am always wholly logical,
About most any problem I am teeming with a lot of views,
I’m full of fine ideas that should fill our church’s empty pews.

(Chorus members:

We’re full of fine ideas that should fill our church’s empty pews.
We’re full of fine ideas that should fill our church’s empty pews.
We’re full of fine ideas that should fill our church’s empty empty pews.

)

I quote from Freud and Jung and all the experts psychological.
I’m anti nuke, I don’t pollute I’m chastely ecological.
In short, in matters spiritual, ethical, material,
I am the very model of a modern Unitarian.

(Chorus members:

In short, in matters spiritual, ethical, material,
We are the very model of a modern Unitarian.

)

I use the latest language; God is never Father or the Lord,
But Ground of Being, Source of Life or almost any other word.
I never pray, I meditate, I’m leary about worshipping.
I serve on 10 committees none of which accomplish anything.
I give to worthy causes and I drive a gas conserving car,
I have good UU principles (although I’m not sure what they are).
I’m open to opinions of profound or broad variety,
Unless they’re too conservative or smack of righteous piety.

(Chorus members:

Unless they’re too conservative or smack of righteous piety.
Unless they’re too conservative or smack of righteous piety.
Unless they’re too conservative or smack of righteous pie-piety.

)

I formulate agendas and discuss them with the best of ‘em,
But don’t ask me to implement, we leave that to the rest of ‘em.
In short in matters spiritual, ethical, material,
I am the very model of today’s religious liberal.

(Chorus members:

In short, in matters spiritual, ethical, material,
We are the very model of today’s religious liberal.

)

I am the very model of a modern legal criminal

Author: anonymous

To be sung to the tune of, “I am the Very Model of a Modern Major General.”
Check with your attorney to determine if this is a fair use.

I am the legal eagle of the Church of Scientology,
For First Amendment purposes that’s what’s called “a theology”;
Of course we don’t believe in God–if you do, we don’t mind, as such:
We’ll convert you (and your property) through Operation Midas Touch.

I oversee manipulation of the law in Dennis Erlich’s case,
I practice my beliefs before Judge Whyte by lying to his face.
In short, in matters criminal, both overt and subliminal,
I sing the songs of L. Ron from his copyrighted hym-n-al.

Chorus:

In short, in matters criminal, both overt and subliminal,
She sings the songs of L. Ron from his copyrighted hym-n-al!

By now you’ve heard our leader sailed a Navy ship and saved the day,
At Flag, Sea Org and L.A. we salute and shout, “Hip, hip, hooray!”
Our records show he seized the reigns and ne’er once failed to take them up.
And, like the facts in Erlich’s case, he ne’er once failed to make them up!

The SPs who are PTS the OSA will deal with,
The HCOPLs work best to RPF your meal with.
Though Grady Ward can say that I am just the ‘ho of babble-on’…
babble-on…
babble-on…
Ah yes!:
Such acronyms I’d like to wager ten fair games of Scrabble[tm*] on!

Chorus:

Such acronyms she’d like to wager ten fair games of Scrabble on!
Such acronyms she’d like to wager ten fair games of Scrabble on!
Such acronyms she’d like to wager ten fair games of Scrabble, Scrabble on!

At redefining words I make George Orwell do a double-think,
Uncork me and the law’s my punch-bowl; I’m Jim Jones’s bubble-drink.
In short, in matters criminal, both overt and subliminal,
I sing the songs of L. Ron from his trade-secreted hym-n-al!

Chorus:

In short, in matters criminal, both overt and subliminal,
She sings the songs of L. Ron from his trade-secreted hym-n-al!

Now, let me be perfectly “clear”:
Our church is not a cult because our church is not a cult because
Our church is (nod) occult. Be. Cuss our churchies. Not ack. Old beak nose.
Arch urges noted. Culled because hour charge is nada. Gold–be cozy.
Cherish Tom, Nicole (big house–ours?). Churlish snotty cold pig hose.

How odd it is that “audit” is the term we use for “therapy”,
The same word from the IRS would set a grizzly bear a-pee.
But since we’ve infiltrated them we are not scared a bit ourselves,
When they come to examine us, we’ll know how to audit ourselves!

Chorus:

When they come to examine us, we’ll know how to audit ourselves!
When they come to examine us, we’ll know how to audit ourselves!
When they come to examine us, we’ll know how to audit, audit ourselves!

There’s only one remaining law with which we haven’t been attacked:
The Racketeer-Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act.
Of course we won’t defend ourselves; we’ll fire lying flak at them:
If Justice files a RICO suit, we’ll counterfile one back at them!

Though no one is beyond redemption, I am on the road to hell,
The money talks. The money talks. The money talks. I know too well.
In short, with ethics minimal, from L. Ron’s secret hym-n-al,
I am the very model of a modern legal criminal!

Chorus: In short with ethics minimal, from L. Ron’s secret hym-n-al,
She is the very model of a modern legal criminal!

* After all, dears, this is *only* a dispute over intellectual property!

model of a modern homosexual

video on YouTube

From the parody musical “Dirty Little Showtunes”, from 1997.

“The Basses’ Song”

Author: Jonathan Ichikawa

Sergeant:
Now on stage you see the chorus of the basses (of the basses)
And baritones who also sing with girth (sing with girth)
Now no tenors mar the beauty of our faces (of our faces)
A tenor is more trouble than he’s worth! (than he’s worth!)

Our confusion we make no attempt to muzzle (‘tempt to muzzle)
As our mental state collecti-tively twirls (‘tively twirls)
We devote ourselves completely to this puzzle: (to this puzzle)
Tenors look like men but sing like little girls

Police:
Ah! As our mental state collecti-tively twirls, tively twirls,
Tenors look like men but sing like little girls! Little Girls

Sergeant:
Though a tenor may be slow he tries to hide it (tries to hide it)
By singing loud enough to wake the dead (wake the dead)
If by some unworldly means we looked inside it (looked inside it)
We wonder what we’d find inside his head (ding dong!)

Some prefer the tenor voice and that is valid (that is valid)
But remember as he uses treble clef (treble clef)
Though perhaps he can produce a pretty ballad, (pretty ballad)
You will never hear a tenor sing low F!

Police:
Ah! Though he does the best he can with treble clef, treble clef
You will never hear a tenor sing low F! Sing low F!

The Accidental Admiral

Author: Elise Matthesen, 9/19/96

He is the very model of an Accidental Admiral
Familiar with the frying-pan, the fire and the free-for-all;
He’s chummy with the Emperor — won’t let him get morose again –
And when the intrigue starts to wane, just call in Miles Vorkosigan.

He’s very well acquainted, too, with matters of security;
The overwhelming menace in his motives is their purity;
His hyperactive habits are are believed to be incurable,
But actually they’re useful, for they make him pretty durable.

He’s very good with justice and occasions magisterial
And he’s a Vor that one can trust with matters quite Imperial;
So whether it’s a picnic, an invasion or a free-for-all
He is the very model of an Accidental Admiral.

At moments of excitement one can see him flailing frantically
(It’s possible in combat but it’s likelier romantically)
He idolized Elena and was hoping he could marry her
But didn’t know her warrior ambitions were a barrier;

He brought in Trainee Taura, who is like a Wookie Amazon
(He got her into uniform but likes her with pajamas on)
He’s ship’s so full of women you’d mistake it for a nunnery –
But one where all the sisters are superior at gunnery.

Some think that he’s a Vorish twit, effete and egotistical,
Some feel for him a reverence that borders on the mystical,
But whether it’s in fealty, in fieldwork or a free-for-all,
He is the very model of an Accidental Admiral.

Subordination’s difficult — he’s had all he can stand of it –
But point him at a problem and he’s sure to take command of it,
And as for plans alternative he’s sure to have a million.
His little mind’s so devious, he croggles Simon Illyan.

And Illyan’s who receives the tales of matters mercenarial,
In masterful reports of obfuscation actuarial,
For Miles is mayhem’s magnet — this conclusion’s ineluctable –
And Simon is considering a hike in his deductible.

So when it comes to mercenary’s luck and synchonicity,
From galaxy to galaxy, from war to infelicity,
You’re bound to find Vorkosigan a grinnin’ in the free-for-all:
He is the very model of an Accidental Admiral.

(Reprints by written permission of the author only; for permissions and
other information, please contact lioness@well.com. Thank you!)

A Statistician’s Lot

Author: Barry Haworth

When the Interviewer’s chased by an Alsatian (an Alsatian),
When she knocks on doors and everyone says no (‘one says no),
She won’t think much of my sample allocation (allocation)
After all its me that told here where to go (where to go).
When respondents are awoken from their slumber (from their slumber)
When we ring them when the cricket’s on TV (on TV),
Then they curse that rotten sod that chose their number (chose their number)
And I hope that they don’t find out that it’s me, Ah,

When there’s Market Research Surveys to be done, to be done,
A Statistician’s lot is not a happy one! (happy one!)

When Researchers come a ringing for a sample (for a sample),
That’s to go into the field that very night (very night)
You can see the time allowed is less than ample (less that ample),
You can see you need not envy me my plight (me my plight).
When the area they want is problematic (problematic)
When the Client sample files are all askew (all askew),
When the Research notes are brief and enigmatic (enigmatic)
Let me tell you that for me its nothing new, Ah,

When there’s Market Research Surveys to be done, to be done,
A Statistician’s lot is not a happy one! (happy one!)

A Producer’s Lot

Author: Sharon Brindle

When a tenor’s not engaged in his audition (his audition)
He loves to sit a-basking in his fame (in his fame)
He can not imagine any opposition (opposition)
To be able to compete with such a name (such a name)

Our sniggers we with difficulty smother (culty smother)
As he struts around and thinks he’s got it won (got it won)
But the tenor lead’s been given to another (to another)
To a lad who’s young enough to be his son

Oh, when a G&S production’s to be done, to be done
A producer’s lot is not a happy one (happy one)

When rehearsals start the chorus is appalling (is appalling)
But the new producer’s trying very hard (very hard)
We can hear the distant funeral bells a-tolling (bells a-tolling)
And we’re not performing “Yeomen of the Guard” (of the Guard)

Our soprano’s started rowing with the MD (with the MD)
Re the new cadenza for “Poor Wand’ring One” (wand’ring one)
Now our poor producer’s trying to run on empty (run on empty)
And the second act finale’s barely done.

Oh, when a G&S production’s to be done, to be done
A producer’s lot is not a happy one (happy one)

Dress rehearsal and the boss man isn’t happy (isn’t happy)
There’s no room on stage when all the girls wear hoops (girls wear hoops)
Samuel’s wandered off and Ruth is getting snappy (getting snappy)*
And the Pirate captain’s feather always droops (always droops)

Fred and Mabel aren’t talking to each other (to each other)
And the oboist is playing out of pitch (out of pitch)
But, we’re all reassuring one another (one another)
That the show will go ahead without a hitch

Oh, when a G&S production’s to be done, to be done
A producer’s lot is not a happy one (happy one)

Opening night, the pirate sherry starts to pour and (starts to pour and)
The producer makes his way towards the bar (wards the bar)
By his reckoning, if he drinks enough beforehand (nough beforehand)
Then he might not notice just how bad we are (bad we are)

But, in the end he didn’t have to do it (have to do it)
The policemen didn’t put a truncheon wrong (truncheon wrong)
And all that hair he tore out, he re-grew it (he re-grew it)
Saying “I knew they’d be brilliant all along”

Oh, when a G&S production’s to be done, to be done
A producer’s lot is quite a happy one (happy one)

*This line may be replaced with:
“Ruth’s complaining that the show’s too Joseph Papp-y (Joseph Papp-y)”

When We Venture Out

Author: John Burrows
A Song for Newport Dance Week, 1996

Verse One

Lead: When we venture out for innocent enjoyment,
Chorus: ‘cent enjoyment,
Lead: a country dance, or two, it is our plan;
Chorus: is our plan;
Lead: we meet ladies in battalions whose deployment,
Chorus: whose deployment,
Lead: negates a moment’s rest for any man.
Chorus: any man.
Lead: In an ambush near the entrance do they hover,
Chorus: do they hover,
Lead: wreathed in smiles and with dance cards in their hands;
Chorus: in their hands;
Lead: they’ll insist for just one schottische, then another,
Chorus: then another,
Lead: and they’ll not let up until they’ve got their man.

Lead & Chorus: Oh! For a single man must dance ’till-the
evening’s done, ’till it’s done,
Oh a bachelor’s life is not a happy one!
Happy One!

Verse Two

Lead: At the moment when we must find some refreshment,
Chorus: some refreshment,
Lead: For a glass of lemonade we’d pay in gold,
Chorus: pay in gold,
Lead: the next partner to whom we have a commitment,
Chorus: a commitment,
Lead: intercepts our progress to- ward the punch bowl.
Chorus: the punch bowl.
Lead: Yes, another dance, and this one is a fast one,
Chorus: it’s a fast one,
Lead: we dehydrate and our feet feel pain sublime;
Chorus: pain sublime;
Lead: but we try to make it obvious to no one,
Chorus: ‘us to no one,
Lead: for a man to sit a dance out is a crime.
Lead & Chorus: Oh! For a single man must dance ’till-the
evening’s done,’till it’s done,
Oh a bachelor’s life is not a happy one!
Happy One!

Just Kill Me! (Tit-willow)

Just Kill Me!, from Jonah was a Prophet (Minor), or Gilbert & Sullivan meet God Almighty by Leland Bryant Ross

I am the very model of a mediaeval Anglian (LOTR)

(Author: John Osborne, originally posted to rec.arts.books.tolkien in July of 1997)
(Archive: FlyingMoose.org Tolkien archive

Author’s note: I read with delight Chuck Bramlet’s observation on the perfect fit of> Errantry to the tune of I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General and this got me thinking of the possiblity of a Lord of the Rings / “Pirates of Penzance” hybrid… I have visions of Arwen singing Poor Wand’ring One to Aragorn, the Shirrifs singing When the Foeman Bares his Steel, and, perhaps best of all, the Nazgul sweeping up the slopes of
Weathertop bellowing With Cat-like Tread at the tops of their voices!

O. Sharp’s follow-up with the Xena song clinched it. I had to do something.

Theoden sings….

I am the very model of a mediaeval Anglian
The truth of this suffuses every nerve and every ganglion
While some proclaim my folc (1) to be Germanic (miscellaneous)
I am in in fact bewildered by this theory extra-aneous
I’m neither Lombard, Hun or Goth or any of that eastern crowd
We’re Anglo-Saxon to the core although we fight on horses proud
Some seem to think our armour bright could easily be Persian
But it is plain to see that it is mediaeval Mercian

Chorus:

But it is plain to see that it is mediaeval Mercian
But it is plain to see that it is mediaeval Mercian
But it is plain to see that it is mediaeval Merci-Mercian

Theoden…

We are the very model of the pre-Normanic Angelcynn (2)
We show it in the way we dress and in the way our songs are sung
In normal conversation we employ the language Mercian
And when we wish to swear, by heck! we don’t just swear, we cursian (3)
Our poetry’s alliterative – it hardly ever rhymes at all
We gather round mead benches and tell epics in our Saxon hall
In matters of the hearth and hall, the homestead and the open weald
We are the very model of a mediaeval gefeald (4)

Chorus:

They are the very model of a mediaeval gefeald
They are the very model of a mediaeval gefeald
They are the very model of a mediaeval gefe- gefeald

Theoden…

I am the very model of a hlaford (5) straight from Beowulf
We go by names like Fram and Gram and Erkenbrand, Eorl and Wulf
My hall of Meduseld which shines like gold under the sunne (6) hot
Is obviously modelled on King Hrothgar’s home of Heorot
In fact we are not modelled on the Anglians historical
We’re more akin to mediaeval Mercians poetical
But be that as it may I offer up this statement once again
I am the very model of a mediaeval Anglian!

(1) folc OE (pron. FOL-K) = people
(2) Angelcynn OE (pron. AN-GEL-Cuunn) = the English people
(3) cursian OE (pron. KURS-EE-AN) = to curse
(4) gefeald OE (pron. YE-FE-ALD) = domain
(5) hlaford OE (pron. HLA-VORD) = lord
(6) sunne OE (pron. SUUN-NE) = sun

Modern SCO Executive (Pirates of Pengiunance)

(Authors: Rick Moen & Karsten Self; canonical archive is at LinuxMafia.com

Apropos of SCOvsIBM, we hereby offer:

Modern SCO Executive
(Apologies to Gilbert, Sullivan, and most of humanity)
(Send brickbats to: Rick Moen and Karsten Self)

[The scene: Major-General Darl McBride has stepped up to the fo'castle
of HMS SCaldera, which has just fought its first skirmish against the
dread Pirates of Penguinance. He prepares to hold a press
conference^W^W^W^W address the troops:]

McBride:

I am the very model of a modern SCO executive.
Our market share is minuscule; our losses are consecutive.
But from our labs deep in U-T, you very soon will surely see
The ultimate, the pinnacle, in high-technolo-barratry.
“Live free or die” philosophies are very well, but still, you see:
Our contracts and our trade secrets make Unix seem our property.
Never mind what we really own (a question not rhetorical):
We have thirty thousand contracts, though most are quite historical.

Lawyer Chorus:

We have thirty thousand contracts, though most are quite historical.
We have thirty thousand contracts, though most are quite historical.
We have thirty thousand contracts, though most are quite historical.

McBride:

While our profit’s been elusive, our tort claims are unremitting,
And Blake Stowell’s PR quota is still dozens at each sitting.
In short, in matters litigual, continual, accusative,
I am the very model of a modern SCO executive.

Lawyer Chorus:

In short, in matters litigual, continual, accusative,
He is the very model of a modern SCO executive.

McBride:

Our history’s mythological (per Eric, it’s not factual).
I answer simple questions with evasions indeciph’rable.
I’m quoted in the IT press, first one and then another way,
And if that’s not quite sufficient, then Sontag runs some blocking
play.
I’m not so good with copyrights, Novell’s got those (they say to us),
Our patent holding’s very slim, our valuation’s perilous.
But please don’t ever hit me with our POSIX system standard score.
I’m always quite confused by that infernal nonsense System 4.

Lawyer Chorus:

He’s always quite confused by that infernal nonsense System 4.
He’s always quite confused by that infernal nonsense System 4.
He’s always quite confused by that infernal nonsense System 4.

McBride:

That freaky hippie GPL, you’d think we’d never heard of it!
And all that code we say they took? The Stevens book’s got every bit.
In short, with markets minuscule and losses quite consecutive,
I am the very model of a modern SCO executive.

Lawyer Chorus:

In short with markets minuscule and losses quite consecutive,
He is the very model of a modern SCO executive.

McBride:

Our name is “SCO” (although you know we really still are Caldera):
Our Eighties business plan seemed good; why permit a change of era?
That old IP that passed to us seemed ripe for a legal mining.
We’re not quite clear on what it is, but it must have been worth buying.
I look with great anxiety on Linux and on BSD.
I’ve signed up with the Devil: Chairman Bill sent a huge license fee.
He says he has a high regard for intellectual property,
But I really haven’t thought much what he’ll do when he’s done with me.

Lawyer Chorus:

But he really hasn’t thought much what he’ll do when he’s done with him.
But he really hasn’t thought much what he’ll do when he’s done with him.
But he really hasn’t thought much what he’ll do when he’s done with him.

McBride:

Our contract reach is deep and broad, and gives us exclusivity:
The lawyers tell us to shoot wide. (Who’ll notice things like privity?)
From the penguinista rabble, I’ve earned naught but opprobrium.
But dare I’ll say I’m twice the man of anyone at I-B-M.

Lawyer Chorus:

But dare’e’ll say he’s twice the man of anyone at I-B-M.
But dare’e’ll say he’s twice the man of anyone at I-B-M.
But dare’e’ll say he’s twice the man of anyone at I-B-IBM.

McBride:

So though we have run quite amok, we readily will go away,
If for our worthless capital, you were this tidy sum to pay.
In short, with markets minuscule and losses quite consecutive,
I am the very model of a modern SCO executive.

Lawyer Chorus:

In short, with markets minuscule and losses quite consecutive,
He is the very model of a modern SCO executive.

Xena, or, the warrior princess

Author: Kevin Wald

Greetings. A while back, Democratus attempted to bring some “high culture” to the Xena parody genre, with his wonderful production of Romeo and Xena. In a similar spirit, I now present an excerpt from Gilbert and Sullivan’s little-known operetta, Xena; or, The Warrior Princess. (This excerpt is from an annotated edition; please don’t let the occasional scholarly footnotes, in the form of bracketed numbers, interfere with your enjoyment of Gilbert’s unique lyrical style.)
Sincerely,
Lollius (a newcomer to these parts)

[We join our operetta already in progress. The infamous Pirates of Pergamum have just seized a bevy of beautiful Mytilenean maidens, and are attempting to carry them off for matrimonial purposes. Gabrielle intervenes, with a recitative (well, it's better than a pan flute solo):]

Gabrielle:

Hold, scoundrels! Ere ye practice acts of villainy
Upon the peaceful and agrarian,
Just bear in mind, these maidens of My-TIL-ene[1]
Are guarded by a buff barbarian!

Pirates:

We’d better all rethink our cunning plan;
They’re guarded by a buff barbarian.

Maidens:

Yes, yes, she is a buff barbarian.

[Xena leaps in from the wings, with a tremendous war cry, does a mid-air somersault, and lands on her feet on the Pirate King's chest.]

Xena:

Yes, yes, I am a buff barbarian!

[The orchestra starts up.]

I am the very model of a heroine barbarian;
Through Herculean efforts, I’ve become humanitarian.
I ride throughout the hinterland — at least that’s what they call it in
Those sissy towns like Athens (I, myself, am Amphipolitan).
I travel with a poet who is perky and parthenian[2]
And scribbles her hexameters in Linear Mycenian[3]
(And many have attempted, by a host of methods mystical,
To tell if our relationship’s sororal or sapphistical).

Chorus:

To tell if their relationship’s sororal or sapphistical!
To tell if their relationship’s sororal or sapphistical!
To tell if their relationship’s sororal or sapphisti-phistical!

Xena:

My armory is brazen, but my weapons are ironical;
My sword is rather phallic, but my chakram’s rather yonical[4]
(To find out what that means, you’ll have to study Indo-Aryan[5]).
I am the very model of a heroine barbarian!

Chorus:

To find out what that means, we’ll have to study Indo-Aryan –
She is the very model of a heroine barbarian!

Xena:

I wake up every morning, ere the dawn is rhododactylous[6]
(Who needs to wait for daylight? I just work by _sensus tactilis_[7].)
And ride into the sunrise to protect some local villagers
From mythologic monsters or from all-too-human pillagers.
I hurtle towards each villain with a recklessness ebullient
And cow him with my swordwork and my alalaes ululient[8];
He’s frightened for his head, because he knows I’m gonna whack it — he’s
Aware that his opponent is the Basileia Makhetes!

[The music crashes to a halt, as the Chorus stares at Xena in utter confusion. She sighs.]

It’s *Greek*. It means “Warrior Princess”!

[Light dawns on the Chorus, and the music resumes.]

Sheesh . . .

Chorus:

He knows that his opponent is the Basileia Makhetes!
He knows that his opponent is the Basileia Makhetes!
He knows that his opponent is the Basileia Makhe-makhetes,

Xena:

Because I’ve got my armor, which is really rather silly, on
(It’s cut so low I feel like I’m the topless tow’rs of Ilion,
And isn’t any use against attackers sagittarian[9]).
I am the very model of a heroine barbarian!

Chorus:

It isn’t any use against attackers sagittarian –
She is the very model of a heroine barbarian!

Xena:

In short, when I can tell you how I break the laws of gravity,
And why my togs expose my intermammary concavity,
And why my comrade changed her dress from one that fit more comfily
To one that shows her omphalos[10] (as cute as that of Omphale[11]),
And why the tale of Spartacus appears in Homer’s versicon[12],

[She holds up a tomato:]

And where we found examples of the genus Lycopersicon[13],
And why this Grecian scenery looks more like the Antipodes,
You’ll say I’m twice the heroine of any in Euripides!

Chorus:

We’ll say she’s twice the heroine of any in Euripides!
We’ll say she’s twice the heroine of any in Euripides!
We’ll say she’s twice the heroine of any in Euripi-ripides!

Xena:

But though the kinked chronology, confusing and chimerical
(It’s often unhistorical, but rarely unhysterical),
Would give a massive heart attack to any antiquarian,
I am the very model of a heroine barbarian!

Chorus:

‘Twould give a massive heart attack to any antiquarian –
She is the very model of a heroine barbarian!

[As the orchestra plays the final chords, a wild Xenaesque melee ensues, and the curtain has to be brought down.]

Notes:

1. Actually, “Mytilene” would properly be accented on the third syllable; Gabrielle always did have trouble with rhymes. (Mytilene, incidentally, is a city on the isle of Lesbos — the hometown of the poet Sappho, as a matter of fact. It is not clear what, if anything, Gilbert is trying to imply here.)
2. parthenian: virginal.
3. Linear Mycenian: Mycenian is the ancient dialect of Greek which was written in Linear B (a form of Greek writing that predates the adoption of the alphabet). The implication is that Gabrielle does her writing in Linear B; if Xena takes place around the time of the Trojan war, this is chronologically reasonable.
4. yonical: “Yonic” is the female counterpart to “phallic”.
5. Indo-Aryan: The language group consisting of Sanskrit and its close relatives. Both “chakram” and “yonic” are of Sanskrit derivation.
6. rhododactylous: rosy-fingered. (Homer makes frequent reference to rhododaktulos eos — “rosy-fingered dawn”.)
7. sensus tactilis: Latin for “the sense of touch”.
8. “Alalaes” are war-cries (the Greeks spelled a Xena-like war cry as _alala_ or _alale_) and “ululient” is a coined term, apparently meaning “characterized by ululation”.
9. sagittarian: archer-like.
10. omphalos: belly-button.
11. Omphale: Legendary queen of Lydia. From context, we must assume that she had a cute belly-button; however, no known classical source seems to address this vital issue.
12. versicon: a coined term, apparently meaning “collection of verse”.
13. Lycopersicon: the biological genus to which tomatoes are assigned. (The tomato is a New World plant, and was entirely unknown in the Old World in pre-Columbian times. Thus, having tomatoes in a Xenaish context is an even greater anachronism than having Homer tell the tale of Spartacus.)

Tony Blair – The prequel

Author: Sharon Brindle

Some may wonder how Mr Tony Blair managed to rise to such an elevated position. However, a shocking new revelation from Tiggy Legge-Before-Wicket, his old nurserymaid, may enlighten us somewhat…

When Tony was a little lad, he turned out such a smartie
His mother thought she’d sign him up to join the Labour Party,
I was young Tony’s nurserymaid, and so I do remember
I took and bound the promising boy, a new Westminster Member

It was a time when there was no crime
And “The Times” was well worth 10p,
Though I’m a nurse, you might do worse
Than make your boy an MP.

I was a stupid nurserymaid, with a yen for heavy drinking,
And I got the letters jumbled up, through being hard of thinking,
I taught him how to avoid a row and eschew “Carpe Diem”
And I made the unassuming boy the next prospective PM.

He put the squeeze on Party sleaze,
But the risks I could not see’em,
I had him enrolled in the Labour fold
In time to make him PM.

As Tone grew older I went blind and semi-arthritic
So I thought that he was still well-suited for careers politic
With his winning grin he got to win the affections of the masses
And they voted for the Cheshire Cat and his Party full of asses

Though he owned the Spice Girls were rather nice
And his kids liked Noel and Liam,
He nevertheless managed to possess
The role of Britain’s PM.

A soapy little list

Author: Lynda Moulton

As some day it may happen that a victim must be found,
I’ve got a little list–I’ve got a little list!
Of soap op’ra offenders who might well be underground,
And who never would be missed–who never would be missed!

The pestilential pretty-boy who never wears his shirt–
All characters who live high and fast and never seem to work–
All children who are sent upstairs and come down middle-aged–
The diva Doc who’s dumb as rocks and more than often caged–
And miscreants on meddling with lab results insist–
They’d none of ‘em be missed–they’d none of ‘em be missed!

She’s got ‘em on the list–she’s got ‘em on the list;
And they’ll none of ‘em be missed–they’ll none of ‘em be missed!

The swaggering execuprods who only fire the best.
The ratings masochist! I’ve got THEM on the list!
The model/actor wannabe who’s just a wax-ed chest–
They never would be missed! They never would be missed.

The characters who are saintly heroes/heroines at heart
Have had their brains and spines excised by writers e’re they start.
The villains who can havoc wreak with very little rue
And cops so dim, and citizens who cannot grasp a clue.
And this oddball aberration: The Soapy columnist!
I KNOW he’d not be missed, I know he’d not be missed!

She’s got him on the list–she’s got him on the list;
And I don’t think he’ll be missed–I’m sure he’ll not be missed!

The doctor who does everything and never is non-plussed–
The multi-specialist! I’ve got him/her on the list!
The rookie cops who make their captain’s bars with one good bust–
They’d none of them be missed! Oh no, they’d not be missed!

And shallow, ditzy juniors with the latest retro look,
Who make degrees, with untold ease, and never crack a book!
And daughters bed their mother’s new found beau with scruples few–
And likewise topsy-turvy, vicey-versy: Well! Who knew?

But it really doesn’t matter who you put upon the list–
For they’d none of ‘em be missed–they’d none of ‘em be missed!

I’ve made a little list

Author: W. S. Gilbert

Thanks to Jim Drew for providing me with Gilbert’s own parody of the little list song!

As someday it may happen that a victim must be found,
I’ve made a little list–I’ve made a little list–
Of inconvenient people who might well be underground,
For they never would be missed–they never would be missed.
The donkey who of nine-times-six and eight-times-seven prates,
And stumps you with enquiries on geography and dates,
And asks for your ideas on spelling “parallelogram,”
All narrow-minded people who are stingy with their jam,
And the torture-dealing dentist, with the forceps in his fist–
They’d none of them be missed–they’d none of them be missed.

There’s the nursemaid who each evening in curl-papers does your hair
With an aggravating twist–SHE never would be missed–
And tells you that you mustn’t cough or sneeze or yawn or stare–
She never would be missed–I’m sure she’d not be missed.
All those who hold that children shouldn’t have too much to eat,
And think cold suet pudding a delicious birthday treat,
Who say that little girls to bed at seven should be sent,
And consider pocket money isn’t given to be spent,
And doctors who on giving you unpleasant draughts insist–
They never would be missed, they’d none of them be missed.

Then the teacher who for hours keeps you practising your scales
With an ever-aching wrist–SHE never would be missed–
And children, too, who out of school are fond of telling tales–
They never would be missed–I’m sure they’d not be missed.
All people who maintain (in solemn earnest–not in joke)
That quantities of sugar-plums are bad for little folk,
And those who hold the principle, unalterably fixed,
That instruction with amusement should most carefully be mixed;
All these (and many others) I have placed upon the list,
For they never would be missed–never, never would be missed!

I’ve got a little list

Author: Eve Golden (Movieline)

As some day it may happen that a victim must be found,
I’ve got a little list–I’ve got a little list
Of people who annoy me and might well be underground,
And who never would be missed–who never would be missed!
There are models who weigh 90 pounds and tell you that they’re fat,
Biographers who claim to own a subject just like that,
People in the Shop-Rite blocking aisles with their carts,
All sitcoms using plots that try to warm our little hearts,
And chiropractors who treat AIDS by giving you a twist–
They’d none of them be missed–they’d none of them be missed.

CHORUS
She’s got them on the list–she’s got them on the list,
And they’ll none of them be missed–they’ll none of them be missed.

There’s the lawyers who claims verdicts all depend on what’s your race,
They’ve really got me pissed–I’ve got them on the list!
And people who smoke cigarettes and puff ‘em in your face;
They never would be missed–they never would be missed!
Then the idiot who talks out loud with shrill and strident tone
On all commuter busses in their bloody new cell phone!
And the stout commuting lady who goes trudging down the street
With a business suit above but great big sneakers on her feet;
Jim Carrey, Robin Williams and all manic humorists;
I don’t think they’d be missed–I’m sure they’d not be missed.

CHORUS
She’s got them on the list–she’s got them on the list–
And she don’t think they’d be missed–she’s sure they won’t be missed!

Religious politicians who just now are rather rife–
Especially Baptists–I’ve got them on the list!
Who get into the Congress and then try to rule your life;
They’d none of them be missed–They’d none of them be missed!
Pretentious actors who insist their name is said “Rafe Fines,”
All critics who choose books that show up in The New York Times,
New Jerseyites who decorate their lawns with plastic gnomes,
And balding men who glue long strands of hair upon their domes–
But it doesn’t really matter who you put upon the list;
For they’d none of them be missed–they’d none of them be missed!

Return to the parody archive.

When you’re still on the net

When you’re still on the net by Daniel P. Dern

Grepped a little list

Grepped a little List by Daniel P. Dern