What am I looking at?

Poststructural Pub
1

Okay, I am new here so this might not be post structural. It is certainly off topic. Will someone please go to this website (I was looking for a recording of the song) and tell me what exactly is the background or wallpaper supposed to be? I feel as though it is supposed to be in some way appropriate to Scottish songs or songs or something but I just can’t figure out what the heck it is supposed to look like. Is it supposed to remind us of warfare? Does it not seem extremely disagreeable? I know, I should be practicing my whistle instead of getting obsessed with things like this. But a person just can’t help it sometimes. Like who is crazy me or them?

http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Styx/5223/Songs/scotsong.html

2

Hi Cynth

It looks like some sort of mangled and melted toffee sweet thing to me, not particularly scottish. What it has to do with the Haughs O’ Cromdale I have no idea.

Please post it on clips & snips, I would like to hear your version .

David

3

Eww. It’s strange looking. I have no idea what it is.

4

Cranberry you don’t look like Jesus anymore. I liked that guy.

BigDavy–I wish my version was up to recording—I am a real beginner unfortunately. I was hoping to hear something that would let me know if I was way off in my idea about the song. So far no real luck. The words are everywhere, but recordings not too common.

I’m glad I’m not the only one that thinks the background is weird!

5

I never did look like Jesus. Jesus most likely was a short, dark skinned, brown eyed, short haired, Palestinian Jew with a cropped beard and distinctive ethnic features. In fact, he probably resembled the people modern Americans blanketly refer to as “the terrorists”.

Contrary to popular opinion, he was not from the north of Sweden.

6

Well to me your previous avatar looked dark skinned and brown-eyed. It’s true that I could not tell the height. I guess there was not a beard. It surely did not resemble my idea of someone from the north of Sweden!

7

What I meant (going off on a tangent, of course!) was that this type of image

is how people in the Western world tend to see Jesus, when he most probably did not look like that.

8

Well, I suppose it would depend on your tastes in food. If you were “picky,” bless your heart, then I could see that you might find it disagreeable. Personally, I enjoy berries of all sorts, and this batch looks to be mulberry. Mulberries in a pot being transformed into a delicious dessert. Or even jam (preserves to y’all across the pond).

On the other hand, it’s difficult to get a bead on the size. Looks kind of teensy, though. American berries are BIG. (Texas berries are even bigger.) Might be some sort of Scottish berry. Are there purple berries in Scotland? Perhaps purple berries that were a deciding factor in a famous battle? Purple berries in a famous dessert?

Or, I hesitate to ask, is this HAGGIS?

I know, I should be practicing my whistle instead of getting obsessed with things like this. But a person just can’t help it sometimes. Like who is crazy me or them?

Yes, you should be practicing your whistle, and now that you know the background is just a yummy food item–even if it IS haggis–you can let this little side-issue loose to bother others. :wink:

If these sorts of things tend to be a source of obsessive preoccupation for you, it’s important to get a grip on this right away. Before it gets out of hand. There’s a easy cure for it.

Dangle a pocket watch before your eyes, left to right, left to right. Feeling comfy? Now, repeat after me . . . “Whoa . . . whoa . . . whoa.” Just like the thing you say to get a horse to stop. “Whoa!”

Practice that a bit. Fun, isn’t it? Makes you feel warm and kind of satisfied? Relaxed? “Whoa . . . whoa . . . whoa!”

When you’re feeling really good about letting go of all that obsession–wooo! just let it all FLOAT away!–let’s refocus your energies on something else . . . simply change the letters slightly . . . to “WhOA.” Hardly a difference, but don’t you feel even more relaxed? Isn’t that better?

"WhOA . . . WhOA . . . WhOA . . . "

I recommend you spend 15 minutes several times a day with this pleasant relaxation exercise. In a week, you can come back and tell us how it’s working.

Oh, and by the way, how many whistles did you say you had?

9

I have always had a thing for Sacred Heart images. And yes, it does seem like we’ve gone off on a tangent, but perhaps the celestial geometry is guiding us with some purpose in mind.

10

My goodness, dear! You are certainly at the mercy of your environment!

You’re not doing the exercise! “WhOA . . . WhOA . . . WhOA . . .”

11

WhOA, WhOA—It’s not working. Berries! Berries? Now I cannot get to the website from my link above, which is just as well. But, BUT, I did some research—whoa, whoa, whoa just didn’t stop me—and the song is in the songbook of a group called Shadow Legion and the pictures of its members make it clear that they do odd things to each other. Unfortunately I cannot copy the picture of the web mistress here. I think that background has to do with blood and gore. And so the Sacred Heart does fit in after all. WhOA. I did order a new whistle today which is rather silly since I cannot play the one that I have. Okay, nighty night.

12

This is another song from their songbook:

My Favorite Things

(Sung to “My Favorite Things” from the Sound of Music)

Heaters and broadswords and targets and maces
Winces of pain on my enemies faces
Ladies whose praises a noble bard sings
These are few of my favorite things

Winning in melees, avoiding a fair fight
Revels that last until the morning’s first light
Cutting down nobles and princes and kings
These are a few of my favorite things


Watching my foeman as they tumble down
Fighting for money and winning the crown
Looting the fallen of their golden rings
These are a few of my favorite things


When the mail breaks
When the helm rings
When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don’t hurt so bad


Two handed weapons, cause they hit much harder
Hitting the soft spots where there ain’t no armor
A shot to the cup that I know they will feel
Taking both arms so I know they must yield.


(Mongol Version)


Killing the townsfolk and ravishing maidens
Bringing home booty in carts heavy laden
Sacking the country and killing the king
These are a few of my favorite things

13

Not to worry, Cynth. Peggy is right. If you de-tile the background and zoom in on one of the tiles, it’s clearly berries. Semi-liquefied berries, cooking in nice simple syrup, maybe, with a little cognac or Grand Marnier. Not gory guts; not haggis (I know there’s some wag out there muttering, ‘Aren’t they the same thing?’) No, it’s just some berries. Okay, everyone, deep, cleansing breaths. :wink:

<mmmm, Grand Marnier>

14

That scares me. :astonished:

15

That’s because you have two excess URL tags at the end of it. It won’t work until you remove them.

Best leave them there. We have young people on board. :astonished:

Like extra URLs would somehow work to deter them . . . :roll:

16

Peggy thank you for explaining my mistake. I tend to just hit buttons, but looking at the instructions does help a bit.

Scottie–I detiled the background and now I have a tile on my own desk top for some reason which I cannot remove—the tile I mean. It is covering up my lovely Felix the Cat image. I will figure it out. Okay, I saw one thing that possibly looked like the top of a berry. But there is some other stuff that just doesn’t look like berries to me. The name of the “design” is bgbrew. I think that stands for blood and gore brew.

Cranberry—don’t be scared. Another extremely strange thing that fits in with your Sacred Heart image is WHO SINGS THESE ARE MY FAVORITE THINGS??? A NUN!!! :astonished:

whoa,whoa, whoa

17

no, it’s not haggis. :laughing:

18

Silly, it is the inside of a hagis before it is cooked! Or maybe the large intestine of highland cattle before it is cooked and stuffed :laughing:

MarkB

19

Oh dear, now I shall have to investigate haggis. Really I should be practicing my whistle.

20

It looks like a knitted snood soaked in gore.