Woohoo! One hundred posts. And some of them even have to do with medieval topics. Yay, me! I'm still writing papers, and I seem to have a pinched nerve in my right thumb (I have no idea how) which will occasionally send shooting pain through my right hand if I move it incorrectly, rendering me helpless and weepy. Typing falls under the category of "incorrect movement." So, there will be very light blogging for the next few weeks.
Anyway, this poem is anonymous as far as I know. It is also tremendously helpful in getting across the idea that students should not rely too heavily on technology.
Ode to a Spellchecker
Eye halve a spelling chequer
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.
Eye strike a key and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait a weigh.
As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
Its rare lea ever wrong.
Eye have run this poem threw it
I am shore your pleased two no
Its letter perfect awl the weigh
My chequer tolled me sew.
2 comments:
Reminds me of one of the poems that was on Boing Boing a while back:
When the English tongue we speak.
Why is break not rhymed with freak?
Will you tell me why it's true
We say sew but likewise few?
And the maker of the verse,
Cannot rhyme his horse with worse?
Beard is not the same as heard
Cord is different from word.
Cow is cow but low is low
Shoe is never rhymed with foe.
Think of hose, dose,and lose,
On the hand pain thing, I was crippled by using computers continually at work and then at home working on papers until I got a little gel wrist rest thing. Cleared up hand, wrist and forearm pain - might be worth trying one if you don't use one already.
Those are great, guys. Thanks!
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