The Majestic Plastic Bag - narrated by Jeremy Irons
This got me thinking:
The Trash Bags That Wish They Could
These poor defenseless critters also suffer a great deal here, very often impeded from getting to the little known Unchartered Southern Atlantic Patch by dastardly dumps, risky rivers, treacherous trees and other perfidious plastic predators.
I do not know if they are homing in on that one or would rather head over to the Great North Atlantic Garbage Patch.
For more information on Plastic Paradise Patches, go to the 5Gyres site and blog.
Reading of gyres, these words of Jabberwocky comes to mind.
I can imagine the Plastic Bag gyring and gimbling in the wabes, chortling amongst its beamish polymerous companions.’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
Whatever it may mean of my mental, er, faculties, this was the only poem I ever memorized from beginning to end.
So here, from Lewis Carrol to you... down memory lane...
Jabberwocky
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
