HARRIET BEECHER STOWE: NO SLAVE TO FASHION
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Was able to show,
By writing Uncle Tom's Cabin,
The racist cruelty America was havin'.
Eliza fleeing across the ice
With desperate boldness
Is a universal image of sacrifice,
But also of one person's coldness
-- To the absolute low degree --
In the person of Simon Legree.
Let's just say that it would be wrong
To include him in that People Who Need People song.
HERE COME THE CENSORS, GUSTAVE...
Walked down to the square
To see if he could see
Who married Dr. Bovary.
That helped his mind to grovel,
And so he wrote a novel
Of the "post-bridal" kind
About the dangerously idle mind
Of Dr. Bovary's spouse.
She got restless around the house,
So, giving her face a fix,
She looked elsewhere for her kicks.
And Gustave Flaubert
Following the fictional ovary
Of Madame Bovary.
MY THOUGHTS ON THIS ARE STILL EVOLVING...
Aboard the good ship "Beagle,"
Observing tortoises and eagles,
Upon a theory that resolved
The way life adapted
Caused a schism,
And many were against him
(Almost everyone alive).
Still, if truth will benefit us,
And if his theory proves the fittest,
It will survive.
So if you ever voted
-- After careful reflection --
For the one who best promoted
The Origin of the Species,
It should be easy:
Charles Darwin would be the Natural Selection.
KARL LEFT HIS PROLETARIAN MARX
Felt that public parks
Should be public in every way,
Lest capitalistic decadence and power
Make the little people pay
For sniffing every flower...
Yes, every tree
Of the bourgeoisie
(Particularly from the lobbies of the Marriott)
Should be turned over to the proletariat.
It sounds so good on paper,
But the fate Marxism met
Echoes the silly caper
Of the Russian Soviet:
Communism lost its wall in Berlin,
And took it squarely on the chin.
I'm sure Mr. Marx would say
(If interviewed today)
That true communism
Has not yet arisen.
The pure form has not been tested,
And Gorbachev should be arrested.