Monday, December 20, 2010

No More Pencils No More Books

No More Pencils No More Books
Thomas Nashe (1567-1601), "Summer's Furthest back Moral fiber and Tribute" (costing in modern spelling):WINTER:

Whole men, young at heart boys, brainpower of schoolmasters,

They desire spoil you, mar you, blear your eyes;

They purpose to lay the curse of God on you,

Namely, effervescence of languages,

Wherewith individuals that the Hill of Babel built


Accursed were in the world's early years.

Latin, it was the deliberate of infidels.

Infer hath zip to say in a true produce.

Concept is curiosity;

And Socrates was in this fashion put to death,

Slightly for he was a theorist.

Hatred, contemn, abhor these damned snares.

Moral fiber SUMMERS:


Out upon it, who would be a scholar? Not I, I promise you. My analyze consistently gave me this learning was such a encrusted thing, which ready me loathe it so as I did. In the same way as I necessary take in been at school construing, "Batte, mi fili, mi fili, mi Batte", I was come to an end under a hedge, or under a barn-wall, playing at span-counter or jack-in-a-box. My master wave me, my twitch wave me, my mother gave me currency and put on, yet all this would not make me a squitter-book. It was my destiny: I thank her as a utmost well-off goddess, that she hath not cast me away upon gibridge. O, in what a strong stain am I now in opposition to horn-books! In vogue, before all this fixed, I profess for my part an open rival to ink and paper. I'll make it good upon the accidence employees, that in deliberate is the devil's "Pater noster". Nouns and pronouns, I voice you as traitors to boys' buttocks. Syntaxis and prosodia, you are tormentors of wit, and good for oblivion, but to get a schoolmaster twopence a week. Grasp copies; fly out, phrase-books; let pens be turned to pick-tooths! Cutlery, cards and dice, you are the true unregulated sciences! I'll ne'er be a goosequill, gentlemen, while I happen.