Up! up! my friend, and quit your books,Well, actually, I only remembered "Up! up! my friend, and quit your books." I had to look up the rest. But I was feeling pretty pleased with myself for coming up with an excuse -- in rhyme, no less! -- for my laziness. And then I remembered that I don't like Wordsworth, so am I still entitled to tout him when I'm in the midst of a merry bout of self-justification?
Or surely you'll grow double.
Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble. . . .
Books! 'tis a dull and endless trifle:
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music! on my life,
There's more of wisdom in it. . . .
One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings;
Our meddling intellect
Misshapes the beauteous forms of things--
We murder to dissect.
Enough of Science and of Art,
Close up those barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.
There! Did you catch that?
That was the exact moment I realized what a pretentious git I am.
I'm so pretentious I'm not even embarrassed to use the expression "pretentious git". Next thing you know, I'm going to be saying stuff like "shite" and referring to Hunter S. Thompson as "Dr. Thompson". THAT'S how pretentious I am.
Okay, not quite. But still. Wordsworth. Keee-rist.
Don't get me wrong. I don't have a problem with pretentious people, per se. I'm down with the poseurs, trust me. I just wish I were smart enough to be one and pull it off. Do you know hard it is to be both pretentious AND dumb?
Enough of this. I'm off to the Aquarium. They've got a new dolphin!