In his spare time, when he wasn't conquering Europe, inventing new legal codes, or revolutionizing military tactics, Napoleon liked contributing to the burgeoning historical and architectural community. Soldiers on his Egyptian Campaign rediscovered the Rosetta Stone, an architectural goldmine that allowed Champollion to decipher Egyptian hieroglyphics. This discovery unlocked the secrets of a civilization buried beneath shifting sands and fluctuating empires.
It's always exciting when you rediscover something written many, many moons ago. It's even better when you still remain somewhat fond of it. The Nameless Toad (circa 2008) is a eulogy to a toad Bronte found squished on a road. Seems harmless, but now that I am all intellectually mature and whatevs, I realize that it's the perfect example of over analysis in literature. Legend states that John Lennon combined two partially composed songs to create I am a Walrus. He threw in "custard dripping from a dead dog's eye" to retaliate against teachers forcing students to analyze the Beatles' lyrics. What a champion of education he was! Let's give it a try: replace 'toad' with 'dreams' and feel your future evaporate.
THE NAMELESS TOAD
The nameless toad,
I'll sing an ode,
the nameless toad.
Smushed on a road,
His breath so cold,
His heart not old,
His tale untold,
The nameless toad.
Too flat to flop,
Two legs, no hop,
To just go plop,
One car, no stop.
Stone cold he lies,
His squashed demise
With buzzing flies
As crystal tears fill Bronte's eyes.
And so she cries,
And so i try
To recognize
His life's goodbye.
Goodbye dear nameless toad.
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