Sunday Morning Philosophical Rambling

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James Burleigh

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Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.

 
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OK ?
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Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
What happened to the UC Berkeley post?

 
Now I know why I prefer plain English.

Thanks for the deep thoughts,

Dave

 
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"Lord I was born a ramblin' man"

or

Lord I was borne a ramblin' man.

Plain English is mucho gooder.

Might make a good bedtime story tho. 'Tis laborious enough to entice slumber.

 
Honestly J B don't take this the wrong way, but of the two. I do prefer the Melville.

Although Melville's release was to take to the sea in ships; remember it's only because he didn't have a motorcycle.

 
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Walt Whitman grew up in what's now Melville.

(Don't know what that means but thought I'd throw it in.)

 
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You know, I like JB's ramblings. Especially when they're written and I can absorb them at the time of my own choosing.

I would say they can be more entertaining than most "ramblings" on this Forum, including my own. :D

This Forum is about meeting new people who ride the FJR...we have 101 flavors on this board.

Ramble on JB.

(BTW, SE Ohio Ramble is in May.)

 
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