Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote

The droghte of March hath perced to the roote

And bathed every veyne in swich licour,

Of which vertu engendred is the flour;

Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth

 Inspired hath in every holt and heeth

The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne

Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,

And smale foweles maken melodye, 1

That slepen al the nyght with open eye-

(So priketh hem Nature in hir corages);

Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrima 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=audxGqo5AkQ

There had been much spoken of where the parade of pilgrims was headed; though redy to proceed upon their pilgrimage from the Great City of York. Would they reach their object of destination at the mysterious Phoenix, the beast with the lion's body, and an Egyptian king's head along with the great warrior who spent time in prison like Richard I?

Wode the holy crew end their journey at the Great Lake of Salt where militias and hunters abound?

Or would they find the Greatest of Prizes at the Magnificent Peninsula of the Flowers and make merry at that site?

So the grand band of pilgrims all met at the Grand Hall of the Rocks in the grand City of York where a grand table was laid with the grandest of feasts; with servants running this way and that, ready to please the icons of the day. All but Senor Cronyn (who was not good with the tips) were lavished with praise not even the Great King Barry had seen in weeks and weeks.

Jokester Rush the Limber was the great Master of Ceremonies following prayers given by the holiest of the holiest and gave out the introdictory:

I HAVE A DREAM

I have a dream that playing fields shall always be uneven so that the fittest shall win the day and vanquish the weaklings who lay waste the kingdom.

I have a dream that apothecaries are kept from the weak and the nonproductive.

I have a dream that one day our people will all recognize that the greatest sins a man may commit include the inclinations:

* To feedeth the hungry;
* To giveth drink to the thirsty;
* To clothe the naked;
* To harboureth the harbourless;
* To visit the sick;
* To ransom the captive;
* To bury the dead.

For these are sins that shall not easily forgiven. Remember that every good deed doth not goeth unpunished; Our Lord & Savior Jesus Christ (blesses himself with leg of lamb) helps those who help themselves, just like Heracles. For as the greatest of philosophers, Plato put it:

There shall be no beggars in our State ... he shall be driven across the border by the country-stewards, to the end that the land may be wholly purged of such a creature.  (2Plato, Laws, Book XI )

And speaking of the unspeakable, we must never, as individuals become involved in the business of others because when we do so we are guilty of the greatest of hubris:

* To instruct the ignorant;
* To counsel the doubtful;
* To admonish sinners;
* To bear wrongs patiently;
* To forgive offences willingly;
* To comfort the afflicted;
* To pray for the living and the dead.

I have a dream that the corporations, who are people too, will one day be free to make great riches, thereby making our nation the greatest nation once again in this world; using slaves from abroad the labor necessary for the greatest of projects.

I have a dream that the city chosen for the Democratic Convention will blow up into a great ring of fire causing chaos and random shootings and general rioting so that the public may see the difference between the civilians and the barbarians.

I have a dream that through freedom of purchased speech I may make whatever race driven comment I care to without the government attempting to limit me...

Sir Rover of Dover broke in: Thank you so much Jokester and good to see you all here ladies and gentlemen of the..

I AM SICK AND TIRED OF CARRYING WATER FOR YOUR KIND YOU TURD WITH NO BLOSSOM AND WAIT YOU MUD SUCKING ...

The Gendarmes came to the aid of Sir Rover and escorted the Jokester to the sties. Rush the Limber got out of control from time to time but that was to be expected from a court jester and a dis court eous one at that.

I thank the Jester for his meaningful words and now ask that each of our apostles for the NEW WAY come up to the podium to tell a story.  I shall wait my turn and instead welcome the one and only Senor Cronyn.

Senor Cronyn carefully put away his NYT crossword and strolled to the podium:

The words of the Jester Rush must not be forgotten or else our message shall die an untimely death.

Too many worry about the poor and their benefits. The many are to worried for the few while the many work to make ends meet, while the many work and supply the country with needed sustenance.

My people are frustrated  by recent political setbacks, tea party leaders and some of my people are working to create a new volunteer militia to help defend against outside agitators and outside powers that would attack our very freedoms.

It is now time for a Posse Comitatus and we are preparing, readying ourselves for an attack upon our way of life.  Our very souls are at risk.

When do we stop rolling over and accepting the fate given us from a centralized government.

The founding fathers of our great nation were not referring to a turkey shoot or a quail hunt. They really weren't even talking about us having the ability to protect ourselves against each other. The Second Amendment deals directly with the right of an individual to keep and bear arms to protect themselves from an overreaching federal government.

Some prim and proper peoples will harken to an old saying :"Have they heard of the Oklahoma City bombing?"  I say that we must recall the words of the Regal Henry when he gave the speech that shall live on forever in our hearts. Lest we ever forget:

    If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
    To do our country loss; and if to live,
    The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
    God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
    By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
    Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
    It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
    Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
    But if it be a sin to covet honour,
    I am the most offending soul alive.
    No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
    God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
    As one man more methinks would share from me
    For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
    Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
    That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
    Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
    And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
    We would not die in that man's company
    That fears his fellowship to die with us.
    This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.

I say that we should call this the great Feast of Crispian.

With that the apostles all stood and cheered and became so excited that Lady Bachmann accidentally stabbed Lord Mitthew in his golden parts.