Wednesday, December 14, 2011



Esta cosa tan maravillosa que junta dos de las cosas que mas me gustan : WATCHMEN de Alan Moore y la Navidad ( solo falta tocino y boobies naturales y seria el fanboy mas feliz del mundo)

Pero eso no es todo, aqui hay otro homenaje igual de chido:

Y de este si hay transcripcion ( quise aventarme la de el anterior, pero por falta de tiempo y temor a que no saliera lo suficientemente bien, no se hizo ):

'Twas the night before doomsday, when all through the town

Not a creature was smiling, they all wore a frown ;

The lovers were sprayed by the doorways with care,

In fear that armageddon soon would be there;

The townsfolk were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of falling bombs danced in their heads;

And Laurie in her costume, and I in my own,

Had just settled down for a long, hearty bone,

When out on the street there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-bloody street

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects discreet,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature button, and a man beaten severe,

With him was a figure, so livid with spite,

I knew in a moment it must be old Veidt.

More rapid than eagles his squid monster came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called it by name;

"Now, Squiddy! now, Octo! now, Cuttle and Slinky!

On, Eight-Arms! on Mollusk! on, Cephalopod and Inky!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the house-top the octopus flew,

With the brain full of nightmares, and Ozymandias too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the streets

The screaming and yelling of a thousand defeats.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,

Down the chimney Ozzy came with a bound.

He was dressed in his costume, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his stance like a fairy!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the crown on his head was bright and aglow;

The stump of a bullet he held tight in his hand,

And his tiara encircled his head like a band;

He had a broad face and a little red lynx,

That died, while he laughed and grinned like a sphinx.

He was fit and in shape, a right boastful old jerk,

And I raged when I saw him, and nearly went berserk;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And pressed all the buttons; then turned with a smirk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his teleport, to his squid gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, "You can't stop me, oh no,

"I did it all thirty-five minutes ago!"

Asi que, ya saben que leer junto a la chimenea...o junto a las cenizas humeantes post nucleares...

Nos seguimos leyendo!

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