Monday, May 07, 2007

The REAL reason re-creationists do what they do...

... and home machinists, and home smiths, and handymen, and....

Let's just say there are a lot of folks with ... useful ... skills out there.

Anyway, what inspired the thought was, I was going through my mp3s and saw these two that I haven't seen for a while (you can download both here):
Serious Steel
Copyright ©1993 by Leslie Fish

Oh, the bombs went up, and the crunch came down, in the middle of the Pennsic War.
It left us stranded in Cooper's field, ten thousand souls and more.
We had nothing with us but what we'd brought: our cars and our camping gear
And our arms and armor, tools and skills, that we'd worked on all that year.

Chorus:
So dress your ranks, lift your pikes,
Tight as the teeth of a comb.
Rattling, clanking, down the road,
The War is going home.
So a truce was called, and a council held, and we argued all that night.
Then we all set off in a caravan by the early morning light.
We had tipped our arrows and pikes with steel, and were armored, every one.
Our swords and bows hung ready to hand, for the time of rattan was done.

The very first town that we came to, we stopped for fuel and food.
The gas-man said he had none to sell. The cops were worse than rude.
They drew their guns. We drew our bows. They fired. We won the day-
For their back-up radios all were dead...and shortly, so were they.

The very next town that we came to, they had no fuel at all.
The mechanics said they could change our cars to run on alcohol.
But a thousand cars would take as long as to grow a crop of grain,
So we made a deal, and moved on out in a horse-drawn wagon-train.

The very third town that we came to, the rulers had gone mad.
The cops tried to enslave us all and steal what-all we had.
Our armor proved half bullet-proof: our weapons worked as well.
The townsfolk afterwards thanked us all for freeing them from hell.

So-town by town we worked our way, just to take our people home.
The legends that we left behind, it seems, would rival Rome;
For now the folk come seeking us to take their troubles on,
To be their teachers and champions in a world where law is gone.

How can we not take up the steel to serve our people's need?
How can we leave our land to fall to any bandit's greed?
We have the skill to save our folk from whatever evil thrives, ...and...
Admit the truth-this is the chance we've hoped for all our lives!

So dress your ranks, lift your pikes
Tight as the teeth of a comb.
Rattling, clanking, down the road
Dressed in leather and steel and woad,
All too aware of history's load
The War is going home!-
The War is coming home!
And Joe Bethancourt's inspired filk of a filk; rendering very clearly why the SCA is also referred to as "The Society for Consenting Adults" (a note, "bluefeather" is a gay group within the SCA - and they are usually great fun to party with, this is intended as a joke not an insult.):
Serious Steal
(c) copyright 1994 W.J. Bethancourt III
(Tune: "Serious Steel" by Leslie Fish)

Well our girlfriends up and left us cold
In the middle of Estrella War
And left us stranded in the middle of the field
And we thought it a crashing bore!

We had nothing with us but what we'd brought,
Our cars and our camping gear,
A box of condoms and some toys
And a warm six-pack of beer
CHORUS:
So grab your pants, find your socks
Brush your teeth with a comb
If you can't get laid at Estrella War
You might as well go on home!
So we went back to our lonely camp
And we spent a horny night.
Then we all lined up at the showers and
We washed in the morning light.

We dressed up in our finest clothes
Our swords had sheaths at hand
And we went off hunting maidenheads
A happy, horny band!

The very first lady that we found
She was a Duchess bold
She said she had no maidenhead,
But her camp was down the road .....

So we took her back to her jolly old camp
Her maidenhead to find
She gave her all to help our search
From Vespers to Compline!
CHORUS:
So grab your pants, find your socks
Brush your teeth with a comb
If you can't get laid at Estrella War
You might as well go on home!
The very next camp that we came to
The ladies had gone mad.
Their lords had joined Blue Feather
And that was all they had.

Our armor proved out bullet-proof
Our weapons worked as well.
Their lords they thanked us long and loud
For saving them from Hell.
CHORUS:
So grab your pants, find your socks
Brush your teeth with a comb
If you can't get laid at Estrella War
You might as well go on home!
Camp by camp we worked our way
Just to see who we could lay.
The legends that we left behind
Were a Roman holiday!

For now the ladies seek us out,
For to take their troubles on,
And be their bedmates thru the night
When'e're their lords are gone!
CHORUS:
So grab your pants, find your socks
Brush your teeth with a comb
If you can't get laid at Estrella War
You might as well go on home!
How can we not take up this task
To serve our ladies' need?
How can we leave them all alone
When we hear them beg and plead?

We spent our time at the War in bed,
We had 'em by threes and fives!
And we gotta say this was a War
We'd hoped for all our lives!
CHORUS:
So grab your pants, find your socks
Brush your teeth with a comb
If you can't get laid at Estrella War...
If your sex life is a crashing bore...
And all you can find is a two-bit .... (WHAT?!)
Well ..............

You might as well just go home!


(lyrics to a couple more of Joes songs here)