[Mad Dawg]

There was a very fine critique of the NAB in a recent "First Things".

It occurs to me that the way to bring our most reverend fathers in God to their senses would be satire, LOTS of satire. Herewith:

1) The Supreme Entity is my manager of smallish, wooly quadrupeds (or, alternatively, caprines.)
I am more or less well provided for.

2) He permits me to nourish my self in green, grassy areas
And directs me to non-turbulent rivulets, which, I take it, I am supposed to drink from.

3) By and large, I feel pretty good.
He keeps me on track.
After all, he's got his reputation to consider.

4) Even when the lights go out, I'm good with it, because he is here and he has these reassuring, long, wooden things.

5) He is my waitperson this evening, while really nasty people watch.
He puts hair tonic on my head and massages down to the roots for extra sheen and bounce.
But he overfilled my glass.

6) Mellowness and coolness will be on my six as long as I'm around,
And he lets me stay at his place.

Fortunately(!) the excellence of the Psalm survives the worst translators.

[Elsie]

The Supreme Entity is my manager of smallish, wooly quadrupeds (or, alternatively, caprines.)

"Nay!", I say!

We caprines have GOATherds - NOT SHEPards!

(Think Sound of Music)

The Lonely Goatherd