Friday, March 09, 2007

Happy Birthday, PZ!

I never Saw a PZ Squid;
Although I Hope to See One;
But I can Tell you, if I Did,
I'd Think it was a Wee One.



Today is the fiftieth birthday of PZ Myers of Pharyngula - no longer a slip of a squid but come to years of ... well, probably not discretion, all things considered, but settled fire and focus. Richard Dawkins wrote him a poem, and now many others across the science and liberal blogosphere are following suit, with others coming up with cards, pictures, and whatnot.

I offer up my congratulations in verse, myself, along with this little picture that I found on Pharyngula long ago. Happy Birthday, PZ, and may you have many more to carry on the good fight!

The canonical form is a limerick, comme ├ža:
An atheist prof named PZ
Had nary a thought in his head
For devils or gods,
Though creationist frauds
Would invariably make him see red.

(The rhyme's tribute to the fact that for several months after finding him I thought he was Canadian, thanks to someone's spelling it PeeZed...)
But limericks aren't really my game. How about a haiku?
spring brings forth warriors:
tentacles strangle god-heads
ID runs and hides
No... not quite.

A Sandburg-inspired tribute?
PZ comes
on little squid feet.

He sits looking
over fundie ID
in silent thought
and then devours.
Well, maybe not. Okay, then; how about this:

Forth from Pharyngula fares he to battle,
PZ the warrior, waxing in wrath,
Hurling his anger like stormblasts from heaven
(Heaven is mythical, but meet for the metaphor)
Fisking his foes like filleting fishes,
Exposing their weakness and piercing their words,
Citing their lies, and sending them limping
Hence from the battlefield homeward and broken,
PZ the potent, praiser of tentacles,
Father of Skatje, as fierce and as scathing
When facing down bigots and fighting with fools.
Number the years now and name off his age:
Fifty he's lived, this fighter ferocious.
Sing out his praises, ye singers of science:
A birthday of joy wish this best of your jousters,
And join all your voices in vernal rejoicing:
For the Host of Pharyngula, most Happy Fiftieth!

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