“slipped the surly bonds of earth, and touched the face of God”
Every once in a while at the mighty Mezz we’d get an obituary saying the deceased had “slipped the surly bonds of earth, and touched the face of God.”
After saying “Aw man,” I’d puke in my wastebasket and then read the obituary to all-and-sundry.
The so-called Hasidic Jew would stop what he was doing, turn around and glance at me with an utterly stunned look, ugh in agreement, and then go back to what he was doing.
I was flying these things on the newspaper web-site, and before that I was assembling the daily obituaries for publication.
I didn’t actually do the obituaries — they were done by the classified-ladies (mainly “obit-Sally”) since the obits were paid. What happened is the funeral home would write the obit, often with input from famblee members; and then fax (or e-mail — I would have been advocating for e-mail) the obit. The classified-ladies thereafter retyped the fax (or copy/pasted the e-mail obit text) into the vast Messenger ‘pyooter-system.
My input was to electronically transfer what they had typed (or manufactured) into a single file of all the day’s obits so it could be put on a page.
Since the obits were paid, they could say whatever they wanted; including “slipped the surly bonds of earth, and touched the face of God.”
An obituary was comprised of three things: -1) the headline — the name, -2) a sub-head (what we called “the blurb:” e.g. “1935-2005,” “loving wife and beloved mother,” or “resolute father” [I suggested “flaming idiot”], and -3) the body-text; e.g. the visitation-hours, funeral time and location, cemetery/burial, or “arrangements by Pratt Disposal and Flint Landfill” and all surviving relatives — usually including “Snuffy,” the deceased’s beloved bloodhound.
Sometimes “slipped the surly bonds of earth, and touched the face of God” would be the blurb; other times it was in the body-text.
This morning (Monday, January 28, 2008) dreaded “liberila” Garrison Keillor included “slipped the surly bonds of earth, and touched the face of God” in his daily “Today’s Writer’s Almanac,” which gets broadcast on the Rochester classical-music station we listen to. Today is the 22nd anniversary of the Challenger disaster, and Ronaldus Maximus, who was prez at that time, said in a radio-address that night: “We will never forget them this morning as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and slipped the surly bonds of earth to touch the face of God.”
We’ve never thought much of Ronnie, but this has to be one of the classiest things he ever did, right up there with revisiting the site of the D-Day invasion 60 years hence.
“Slipped the surly bonds of earth, and touched the face of God” are an abbreviation of a poem titled “High Flier” written by John Gillespie Magee, a pilot with the Royal Canadian Air Force in WWII. He came to Britain, flew in a Spitfire squadron, and was killed at the age of 19 on December 11, 1941 during a training flight from an airfield near Scopwick, Scotland. “Slipped the surly bonds of earth, and touched the face of God” are the first and last lines.
Apparently Reagan was familiar with the lines, as they were engraved on a plaque (“Somebody say ‘plaque?’ Remember, there is no plaque in the Dental Hall of Fame.”) at his daughter’s school. Those lines were also recited at the return of fellow actor Tyrone Power from fighting in WWII — a party at which Power recited “High Flight” from memory. (When Power died, the poem was read over his grave by Laurence Olivier.)
Apparently also familiar was Reagan’s speechwriter Peggy Noonan, so that if he suggested it she knew what he was talking about.
And conversely if it was she that suggested it, Reagan knew it fit.
WHATEVER; let’s hope so. We’d like to give him credit. He introduced the American electorate to theatrics in their politicians; “What are my lines?” he’d ask, and Nancy would prompt.
Of course, now we have an even worse prez: Alfred E. Newman.
After saying “Aw man,” I’d puke in my wastebasket and then read the obituary to all-and-sundry.
The so-called Hasidic Jew would stop what he was doing, turn around and glance at me with an utterly stunned look, ugh in agreement, and then go back to what he was doing.
I was flying these things on the newspaper web-site, and before that I was assembling the daily obituaries for publication.
I didn’t actually do the obituaries — they were done by the classified-ladies (mainly “obit-Sally”) since the obits were paid. What happened is the funeral home would write the obit, often with input from famblee members; and then fax (or e-mail — I would have been advocating for e-mail) the obit. The classified-ladies thereafter retyped the fax (or copy/pasted the e-mail obit text) into the vast Messenger ‘pyooter-system.
My input was to electronically transfer what they had typed (or manufactured) into a single file of all the day’s obits so it could be put on a page.
Since the obits were paid, they could say whatever they wanted; including “slipped the surly bonds of earth, and touched the face of God.”
An obituary was comprised of three things: -1) the headline — the name, -2) a sub-head (what we called “the blurb:” e.g. “1935-2005,” “loving wife and beloved mother,” or “resolute father” [I suggested “flaming idiot”], and -3) the body-text; e.g. the visitation-hours, funeral time and location, cemetery/burial, or “arrangements by Pratt Disposal and Flint Landfill” and all surviving relatives — usually including “Snuffy,” the deceased’s beloved bloodhound.
Sometimes “slipped the surly bonds of earth, and touched the face of God” would be the blurb; other times it was in the body-text.
This morning (Monday, January 28, 2008) dreaded “liberila” Garrison Keillor included “slipped the surly bonds of earth, and touched the face of God” in his daily “Today’s Writer’s Almanac,” which gets broadcast on the Rochester classical-music station we listen to. Today is the 22nd anniversary of the Challenger disaster, and Ronaldus Maximus, who was prez at that time, said in a radio-address that night: “We will never forget them this morning as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and slipped the surly bonds of earth to touch the face of God.”
We’ve never thought much of Ronnie, but this has to be one of the classiest things he ever did, right up there with revisiting the site of the D-Day invasion 60 years hence.
“Slipped the surly bonds of earth, and touched the face of God” are an abbreviation of a poem titled “High Flier” written by John Gillespie Magee, a pilot with the Royal Canadian Air Force in WWII. He came to Britain, flew in a Spitfire squadron, and was killed at the age of 19 on December 11, 1941 during a training flight from an airfield near Scopwick, Scotland. “Slipped the surly bonds of earth, and touched the face of God” are the first and last lines.
Apparently Reagan was familiar with the lines, as they were engraved on a plaque (“Somebody say ‘plaque?’ Remember, there is no plaque in the Dental Hall of Fame.”) at his daughter’s school. Those lines were also recited at the return of fellow actor Tyrone Power from fighting in WWII — a party at which Power recited “High Flight” from memory. (When Power died, the poem was read over his grave by Laurence Olivier.)
Apparently also familiar was Reagan’s speechwriter Peggy Noonan, so that if he suggested it she knew what he was talking about.
And conversely if it was she that suggested it, Reagan knew it fit.
WHATEVER; let’s hope so. We’d like to give him credit. He introduced the American electorate to theatrics in their politicians; “What are my lines?” he’d ask, and Nancy would prompt.
Of course, now we have an even worse prez: Alfred E. Newman.
posted by BobbaLew at 6:00 PM
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