Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Poetic Phrase from PZ

Pharyngula: Gabler gone, but it makes no difference

The Gabler is gone,
a victim of age,
leaving a terrible stain

of ignorance on
biology's page:
spittle-flecked, senile, insane.

Our textbooks were marred
by this lying old knave,
willfully wielding his warps.

"It's awfully hard
to dance on a grave
when you're still battling the corpse."


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