[Note to readers: For background, please see This Cathinfo Post]

Oh “Captain Tor,” your words doth drip

With such a sneering pride,

Which robbed you of ability

To rejoice my voice had died.

A wiser man would rest content

And not go poke the bear,

But arrogance doth rule your soul

Which lacks all “savoir faire.”

Your jab to a choleric

Who would have left the field,

Has served to reawaken

His duty not to yield.

Your clerical allies

Will surely be dismayed,

“Have you no good sense, man?”

 What a blunder made!

“You said that you would help us

But look what you have done:

He was gone, and you brought him back

With the battle nearly won!”

And so I owe you heartily

For your happy fault,

Since but for that, I would be gone

Something like John Galt.

Thus, this “ode” I dedicate

With happy gratitude,

To “Captain Tor” and company

Who restored my fighting mood.

Please know I mean sincerely

The next article on the blog,

Would surely never have seen the light

And lain behind the fog.

Yes, you may take the credit, sir

Since it is all the plain result,

Of your taunting arrogance

And your crude insult.

And so I must now end these lines

With some plain advice,

The next time you have victory

Don’t be a jerk, be nice.

Because of you, we will carry on

Even if no one wishes,

And like St. Anthony, so we too

Go on preaching to the fishes!