Rin Tin Tin’s Revenge
Salivated madness
Molar maliciousness
Lunges at your neck
Hungry claws tear your veins
hot satanic fumes
Muffle your screams
The blood pumps steadily onto the pavement
Licked up enthusiastically by man’s best friend
At the moment rabid
Robert K. Stephen
“I couldn’t help laughing at your account of Haydn’s drunkenness, -if I’d been there, I’d certainly have whispered in his ear: ADLGASSER. But it’s a disgrace that such an able man should be rendered incapable of performing his duties and only have himself to blame for it-in a post that’s in God’s honour-when the archbishop and the whole court are there-and the whole church is full of people-it’s appalling-this is also one of the main reasons I detest Salzburg-the coarse ill-mannered and dissolute court musicians-no honest man of good breeding could live with them:-instead of taking interest in them he should be ashamed of them.”
“My son to find one man in a 1,000 who is your true friend for reasons other than self-interest is one of the greatest wonders of the world. Examine all who call themselves your friends or who make a show of friendship and you’ll find the reason why this is so. If they’re not motivated by self-interest on their own account, then they’ll be acting in the interests of some other friend whom they need; or they are your friends so that by singling you out they can annoy some third party.”
Volcanic Hills Winery is located on the Southeast slope of Boucherie Mountain a 60-million-year-old dormant volcano.
It is a blend of Pinot Noir (51.4%). Marechal Foch (14.3%), Gamay Noir ( 7.4%), Merlot (21.4%) and Cabernet Franc (5.5%). Each varietal was fermented and barrel aged in French and American oak for 14 months then blended.
Aroma: Black cherry, raspberry, red plum, chocolate covered cherry bon bons. Definite oak influence; perhaps too much
Palate: Firm. Lean.Tannic with controlled acidity. Very little fruit: perhaps faint raspberry therefore lacking much of any telltale Okanagan Valley character. Tannic finish.
Personality: Bland, unimpressive especially when expecting excellence one might expect from Okanagan Valley red wines.
Cellarbility: Drink now.
Food Match: A “Friday night wine”.
Price: $30 CDN.
RKS 2026 British Columbia Wine Rating: 79/100.
(Volcanic Hills 2021 Magma Red, Okanagan Valley, BC VQA, Volcanic Hills Winery, West Kelowna, British Columbia, 750 mL, 14%).
“A journey like this is no joke, you’ve no experience of this sort of thing, you need to have more important things on your mind than foolish games. You have to try and anticipate a hundred different things, otherwise you’ll suddenly find yourself in the shit without any money-and where you have no money you’ll have no friends either, even if you give a hundred lessons for nothing, and even if you write sonatas and spend every night fooling around from 10 till 12 instead of devoting your self to more important matters .”
WHAT’S IN A NAME!
My name is Rory Dylan Stephen.
On my Canadian Kennel Club Certificate of Registration my name is Rory of Arendale 2ND.
My father is Kozo’s Gunther.
My mother’s name is Ardendale’s Scottish Lass.
When I am serious trouble my name is RORY.
When I am in very serious trouble my name is RORY DYLAN STEPHEN!!!
Yet I have many other names some being;
Sweetie
Pumpkin
Poopy
Dylan (by mistake)
Snookums
The White Rocket
The White Terror
Naughty Puppy!
Ror
Big guy
I know these names are intended for me by the tone they are delivered. They are terms of endearment (even Rory Dylan Stephen) and that is good with me.
Beat up a poet today
Butterflies embrace the sky
A God given sunny day and the soul flies high
If this grade 5 rhyme is poetry then certainly something has gone awry
Liquidate this trivial optimism
Viewed through a socially irrelevant mindless prism
Quash this verse
Place it in the next outgoing hearse
Revel in the grandmothers who sigh at the mention of shit and sewer
No reason to put the poet on a skewer
Instead, bombast the demeaning jingoism of the brewer
You complain that poetry is over the head of the masses
You are wrong it is meaningless and beneath them when always enveloped in a rosy hue
Why is there no discussion of sniffing glue or the paying of class dues
Beat up
And thrash the poets of the ivory tower
It’s time they awoke with a cold shower
With the millions that suffer waiting to see the way
While poets ignore the every day
Then let us level them to the floors
These vocabularian whores
Robert K. Stephen
“A certain Pater Aemilian, an arrogant ass and a simpleton of his profession, was in an especially hearty mood. He kept on wanting to joke with my cousin, but she just made fun of him-finally when he was drunk (which didn’t take long), he started to talk about music. He sang a canon and I said never in my whole life heard a finer one. I said I’m sorry, I can’t join in as I’ve had no natural gift for intoning. That doesn’t matter he said. He started. I was the third voice, but I made up some very different words, for example. O you prick, lick my arse. He said to me: if only we could have spent longer together. I’d like to discuss the art of composition with you. Then the discussion would soon be over, I said Get lost.
“You can’t spend the whole winter travelling; and if you plan to stay anywhere, it should be in large town with lots of people where there are hopes and opportunities of earning some money: and where is such a place to be found in the whole of this region?-apart from Paris- but life in Paris requires a completely different attitude to life, a different way of thinking, you have to be attentive and every day think of ways of earning money and exercise extreme politeness in order to ingratiate yourself with people of standing.”
“By and large he lorded it like a real gentleman, as they say in the provinces, married a pretty girl with a dowry of two hundred serfs and several thousand in cash. These funds were immediately lavished on a team of six truly excellent horses, gilt locks for the doors, a tame monkey for the house and a French butler. The young lady’s serfs together with two hundred of his own, were mortgaged for some business transaction. In brief, he was an exemplary landowner, a real paragon.”
Nikolai Gogol, “The Carriage”, 1836.
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