Tag Archives: ode to an orc

Orc got the blues

Finally I found something that gave me hope about the human race. And his name is Muddy Waters. What a great name. She-human said that he died over thirty years ago, but  –  all praise to human technology – I can see him on this electronic device. If you never heard of him, you only got yourself to blame. I added a link to one of his songs, in fact it is the one song, that made me reconsider my opinion about humans in general. A race that can produce a man like this can’t be all bad. And this special song is so much a bout me it’s actually frightening. He got balls, let me tell you that. So do I, you did know that already, right? You better nod silently, or else I come and get you.

Strange thing is, while I was mesmerised by this incredible song and the even more impressive singer, she-human seemed to drool over the sight of one of the skinny pale guys in the background. I will never understand her. Anyway, when I get home, I’ll tell my folk about the Blues. It’s gonna change orcish life forever. And for once, change will be good. Very good.
Watch this:

She-human said that it might not be allowed to show that song (something to do with copyrights) but I mean, seriously? This amazing song should not be kept from anyone. Also: I am an orc, so what do I care about laws? I do not even understand it, anyway.
I am a hoochie coochie orc.

Who was that guy Willy again? I’m a poet.

This must be kept from my fellow orcs.
But ever since I ate that book I tried to read, I burp up some poetic lines now and then. So in honour of that Shakespeare guy whom I unfortunately  did not meet at the theater where he was supposed to find his love (and didn’t because I kind of destroyed the stage)… well, where was I? Oh, yes, poetry burps.
Here we go:

How can I then rejoice in gory fight,
when I’m debarr’d the benefit of loot?
An overlord’s oppression is not eas’d by right,
But fight and right and right and fight are moot.

(Don’t ask me what it means. Poetry is supposed to be vague and interpretable)

What a piece of work is orc!
How useless in reason.
So very finite in faculty.
In colour, in fighting, how express and fearsome!
In action how like a barbarian.
In apprehension how like an amoeba.
The terror of the worlds.
The paragon of ignorance.

(I’m quite pleased with that one, actually. But still, my fellow orcs must never know)