I have a little nursery rhyme for all you children out there, something even the Godfather can understand. 'You can prance and you can dance, but when it comes to relations, keep it in your pants.
You can prance and you can dance, but when it comes to relations, keep it in your pants.
In 1967, in DeKalb v. DeSpain, a court (255 F.Supp. 655. N.D.Ill. 1966.) took a 4-line nursery rhyme used by a K-5 kindergarten class and declared the nursery rhyme unconstitutional. The court explained that although the word 'God' was not contained in this nursery rhyme, if someone were to hear the rhyme, he might think that it was talking about God - and that would be unconstitutional!
A nursery rhyme shapes your bones and nerves, and it shapes your mind. They are powerful, nursery rhymes, and immensely old, and not toys, even though they are for children." "But they make no sense!" Summer protested "Ah, well," said Ben. "Sometimes sense hides behind walls. You must find a window and stick your head right in before you can see it.
Rhyme to kill, rhyme to murder, rhyme to stomp,
Rhyme to ill, rhyme to romp,
Rhyme to smack, rhyme to shock, rhyme to roll,
Rhyme to destroy anything, toy boy.
On the microphone:
I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East Coast.
You can get people to follow very intricate pathways of musical information, but it feels like a nursery rhyme or a children's story.
It's beautiful to dance alone, beautiful to dance with your children, beautiful to dance with your friends, beautiful to dance with your lover, or even collectively. But the ultimate dance is the one we do by ourselves, when we make ourselves known to God.
How I keep trying to force our story into a fairy tale, but from the beginning, it's been more like a nursery rhyme." "Bizarre and adorable?" "Just like you." "With rings in your pockets and bells on your toes" "Ooh, I should really invest in some toes bells.
I'm not sure God wants us to be happy. I think he wants us to love, and be loved. But we are like children, thinking our toys will make us happy and the whole world is our nursery. Something must drive us out of that nursery and into the lives of others, and that something is suffering.
I'd ask people to keep in mind the idea that if you really understand something, it's even more important for you to consider the possibility of your wrongness. Even if it takes someone dumber than you to point that out.
This is what rhyme does. In a couplet, the first rhyme is like a question to which the second rhyme is an answer. The first rhyme leaves something in the air, some unanswered business. In most quatrains, space is created between the rhyme that poses the question and the rhyme that gives the answer - it is like a pleasure deferred.
You think you're prepared. You think you've done everything you're supposed to, study hard, work hard, keep yourself out of trouble, and then-whoosh! Something arrives out of the blue that you never saw coming. Something you never even imagined. Something that'll knock your little world off its axis. Something that'll either change your life for the better, or end it forever. Chaos.
What's that?" he snarled, staring at the envelope Harry was still clutching in his hand. "If it's another form for me to sign, you've got another -" "It's not," said Harry cheerfully. "It's a letter from my godfather." "Godfather?" sputtered Uncle Vernon. "You haven't got a godfather!" "Yes, I have," said Harry brightly. "He was my mum and dad's best friend. He's a convicted murderer, but he's broken out of wizard prison and he's on the run. He likes to keep in touch with me, though...keep up with my news...check if I'm happy.
Out of the nursery into the college and back into the nursery; there’s your intellectual pattern for the past five centuries or more.
Let me see you do the 'rag time dance'...
Turn left and do the 'Cake walk prance'...
Turn the other way and do the 'Slow drag'...
Now take your lady to the world's fair (...)
And do the 'rag time dance.'
It completely sickens me what our culture is doing to women. Last week I wore a big top and little shorts and a bunch of stuff came out saying I was without pants. 'The No-Pants Look,' it said. And I didn't go out without pants, I had shorts on... If Olivia Wilde had gone to a party with a big silky top and little shorts she might have been told her outfit was cute... What it was really: 'Why did you show us your thighs?'
One can tell a child everything, anything. I have often been struck by the fact that parents know their children so little. They should not conceal so much from them. How well even little children understand that their parents conceal things from them, because they consider them too young to understand! Children are capable of giving advice in the most important matters.