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(irony upon insult, our own WhitmanOneil has a collie dog named Milo, go figger.)] You think that's bad, I have a mutt named Milo. He's half chiuahua, half rat terrier. 
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Carpal Tunnel
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Okay, all you dogs out there named Milo, wag your tails. Sit. Speak. Heh. Got them trained real good. Oh, Hi Mr. Milo. No, I wasn't sayin' nuthin'. Honest!   [hiding those last sentences behind my skirts-e]
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Carpal Tunnel
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I can't think of coon dogs without also thinking of coon huntin'. (Yes, I did it once, as a kid in Tennessee. But when an owl flew past my head so close I could hear the wind in its wings, I screamed. And that put an end to that little sortie. My uncle was pretty nice about it--for him.) Anyway--I made this post because it occurred to me that I automatically think coon huntin '. Is it actually possible for anyone to say coon huntin g?
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Joined: Dec 2000
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Carpal Tunnel
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Is it actually possible for anyone to say coon hunting?
Actual, I think you gots to say raccoon hunting ifn yer actual gone pernounce the g. One thang it lets you get a runnin start on the phrase so y'all'll have some steam left by the time you gets to the g, elks you ain' gone have enuff oomph to get inta the g.
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Carpal Tunnel
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But alas I know of but one other entity that has two prongs and that is my coon dog named WhitmanOneil (irony upon insult, our own WhitmanOneil has a collie dog named Milo, go figger.) but no matter, a two-pronged coon dog seems hardly a proper association for a genre of literary poems.Well, I dunno how I missed this one...but if your critter is named WhitmanO'Neil, milum, then I bet that dog don't hunt. 'Course if he'd get together with my super-kinetic husky/collie, Milo, I'd bet he'd larn 'im to tree a coon or two. Everybody knows it takes a Milo dog husy/collie mix to get a WhitO coon dog goin'!  And we can leave the rats and enchiladas for that other rat terrier/chihuahua Milo dog. You see, it's the Milo dogs that always have all the fun! I commend your dexterity, milum, in mastering the Trident poetry form of the great Atlanteans. However, one cannot mention the world's second greatest civilization without paying homage to it's predecessor, the great continent and land of Mu that once flourished in what is now the vast pacific, and their exquisite, and much more decidedly advanced, poetry form called Reefer, which was formulated according to the delicate and ever-original designs of coral clusters, which, like snowflakes, are never the same. What the Reefer poets strove to achieve was a union of spirit, form, and word, that, while giving rise to it's own creative spontaneity and original vision, would never waver from being reminiscent of the great, and ever-changing, coral colonies they so revered. The Lords, Gods, and populace of the great land of Mu esteemed these artists, much like their descendants, the great Japanese haikuists, were revered in their time. True Reefer poetry would look something like this (only it would be turned 90 degrees, horizontally, as if it were reflecting upward through the Earth's major element): s
ou
heart
rc es water's
o
f the
li ght
This delicate and cherished artform has come down to me from the pathways of the Ancient Ones who once raised the consciousness of Mu beyond any perceptions we know today. And, since Mu fell into the sea a good 5,000 years before the ascendence of Atlantis, the Reefer scripts and techniques were preserved only by fortuitous castaways who took some priceless stone tablet inscriptions as they drifted to one of the islands left from the Great Cataclysm now known as Easter Island where they erected giant stone idols to the memory of great Reefer poets past. And, thence, of course, to the South American continent where they attempted to construct huge Reefer poems in the landscape of Naszca, but none of the indigenous peoples understood them, so they were left a mystery. And today, some people claim there are still some Mu-ian Reefer poet descendants living in the West Indies as a music sect on the island of Jamaica...but the jury is still out on that one, mon. So, Milo (all dogs aside), I'm certainly glad you resurrected the fine art of Atlantean Trident poetry so we could take the rare opportunity to salute the even more praiseworthy and influential land of Mu and its priesthood of Reefer poetry. (And, BTW, did you know there's a rumor that some descendents of the Atlantean Trident poets founded and own a chewing gum company in the US?...one never knows who one's neighbors are, does one?)
Now, excuse me, I have to go feed Milo, so he'll be ready to tutor that WhitO dog of your'n.
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OP
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s
ou
heart
rc
es
water's
o
f
the
li
ght
Is this a poem? Am I supposed to be able to read it?
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Joined: Mar 2001
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Carpal Tunnel
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Is this a poem? Am I supposed to be able to read it?
Ah, but once you can cultivate the abilility to intuit (or "read" as you say) Reefer poetry, you are then approaching the key to unlocking the sacred symbols and ancient mysteries of Mu. Unless you plateau in your journey at the Atlantean Trident level...where our good friend, milum, has so nobly lingered.
Your Happy Epeolatrist!
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old hand
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Is this a poem? Am I supposed to be able to read it? -Ladymoon
That depends Ladymoon.
Have you ever sat in a cypress tree that overlooked a silver lake and watched a moonbeam bounce off the mirrored surface of the shining waters, and then, once again beam to the distant heavens. Look closely. See the dust motes in the moonbeam. Read them. They are the Reefer Poems of the ancient Mu.
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Ok, so lemme get this straight. Is this the Mu from Pokemon?
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Carpal Tunnel
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No, Jazz. It's an E-MU. [straight face.....one....two.....three seconds -e]
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