<div dir="ltr"><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mGYpsNpg1bw">Hi Everybody! </a><br></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mGYpsNpg1bw">[All grumble] </a> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mGYpsNpg1bw">Hi, doctor Nick </a><br></div><div><br></div><div>Over a very long time I have sometimes worried about our dear sweet innocent newbies who summon the courage to post a first query, declaration, opinion or refutation to our lists. </div><div><br></div>They wonder: do I dare disturb the universe?<br>Should I have have taken more time for my hundred indecisions,<br>And for a hundred visions and revisions,<br>Before the taking of a toast and tea<br>Before posting to that Edulist?<div><br></div><div>In countless chatrooms the men and women come and go<br>Talking of normalisation, and Michelangelo.</div><div><br></div><div>But they do not respond to that sweet darling's most sensitive post.<br></div><div><div>It lies, dies, without regard.<br></div><div></div><div><br></div><div>With no reponse from the community, the original poster [OP] cries:<br><br></div><div>"I should have been a pair of ragged claws</div><div>Scuttling across the floors of silent seas..."</div><div>No-one has responded to my most earnest question or statement.<br></div><div><br></div><div>"Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,<br>Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?"<br><table align="CENTER" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" style="color:rgb(0,0,32);font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:medium"><tbody></tbody></table><div class="gmail_signature" data-smartmail="gmail_signature"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div><i><br></i></div><div>But with no response from the list, not even a "Thanks for the interesting question!" or "This is what I think..." or "Thanks for posting!" the OP withdraws and whispers...<br></div><div><br></div><div></div>"And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,<br>And in short, I was afraid."</div><div dir="ltr"><br><div>And sometime a curt reply from the list may make them think::<br></div><div><br></div><div></div>“I am Lazarus, come from the dead,<br>Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"<br>If one, settling a pillow by her head,<br>Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;<br>That is not it, at all.”</div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">No answer.</div><div>Tumbleweeds roll past.</div><div>The Edulist dog howls, far in the distance.</div><div><br></div><div dir="ltr">So, the OP never posts again: unworthy, unloved, undeserving...<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">"No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;<span class="" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div dir="ltr">Am an attendant lord, one that will do<span class="" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div dir="ltr">To swell a progress, start a scene or two,<span class="" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div dir="ltr">Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,<span class="" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div dir="ltr">Deferential, glad to be of use,</div><div dir="ltr">Politic, cautious, and meticulous;<span class="" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div dir="ltr">Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;<span class="" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div dir="ltr">At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—<span class="" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div dir="ltr">Almost, at times, the Fool.<span class="" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div dir="ltr"> </div><div dir="ltr">I grow old … I grow old ...</div><div dir="ltr">I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.<span class="" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div dir="ltr"> </div><div dir="ltr">Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?<span class="" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div dir="ltr">I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.<span class="" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div dir="ltr">I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.<span class="" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div dir="ltr"> </div><div dir="ltr">I do not think that they will sing to me."</div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div>Please take time to support and reply to our new and young posters.</div><div><br></div><div>We want them to eat peaches.</div><div dir="ltr"><br><div><span style="font-size:12.8px">Mark Kelly </span>and</div>T.S. Eliot (1888–1965). The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock<br><br></div><div dir="ltr"><a href="mailto:mark@vceit.com">mark@vceit.com</a><div><a href="http://vceit.com" target="_blank">http://vceit.com</a><br></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>
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