Alfred J Raso

Writer Sam Starbuck has penned, hands-down, the geekiest homage to T.S. Eliots Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock yet attempted. A sample stanza from The .doc File of J. Alfred Prufrock: And indeed there will be time To wonder, Is this wanky? Is this fair? Time to turn back and descend the stair With a comment on the level of your player [They will say: "How his server's lagging slow!"] My morning cosplay, collar mounting firmly to the chin My website rich and modest, but accessed by a simple login [They will say: "But how his content's growing thin!"] Do I dare Disturb the interwebs? In a minute there is time For fanfictions and revisions which Google Docs may reverse. (Sam Starbuck via MeFi, Boing Boing)

AWESOME POEM BY T.S. ELIOT.

Alfred Eisenstaedt was a German-American photographer and photojournalist. He is renowned for his candid photographs, frequently made using various models of a 35mm Leica rangefinder camera. He is best known for his photograph capturing the celebration of V-J Day

Quote Ocean brings you the quotes from all the famous and inspirational authors all around the world. Visit quoteocean.com for more.

The Matthias Chronicles: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse A persona che mai tornasse al mondo, Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo Non torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero, Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo. Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherized upon a table; Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, The muttering retreats Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: Streets that follow l

The Matthias Chronicles: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse A persona che mai tornasse al mondo, Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo Non torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero, Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo. Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherized upon a table; Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, The muttering retreats Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: Streets that follow l