So Call Me Ishmael, Maybe
So Call Me Ishmael, Maybe
I stab at thee from Hell.
Doth magnetic virtue tell
the compasses of all
those ships bring them this way?
I trade my soul for a fish
at last then we must kiss.
I was looking for this
and now you’re in my way.
Your stare was holding.
Ripped skin, blubber showing.
Cold day, wind was blowing.
Where do you think you’re going baby?
Hey I just found you, and this is crazy
But here’s my harpoon, so call me Ishmael maybe.
In ev’ry light, at you lady
777′s a number, so call me Ishmael maybe.
So Call Me Maybe
—
“Moby Dick”, modern edition
Sung to the tune of “So Call Me Maybe”
Copyright © 2012 Henry Edward Hardy
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About Scanlyze
Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
“Who will clean up after the custodians?”
Scanlyze is an online magazine of essays, commentary, satire, and analysis. Were we half as clever, for inspiration we would take Mark Twain, Ambrose Bierce, Swift, Montaigne, or Seneca.
“The men who create power make an indispensable contribution to the Nation’s greatness, but the men who question power make a contribution just as indispensable, especially when that questioning is disinterested, for they determine whether we use power or power uses us.”
John F. Kennedy, October 26, 1963
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Copyright © 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013 Henry Edward Hardy 
Recent Comments
Freekin’ funny… even if 98% of the people will not have the slightest idea what the heck you are talking about. I am glad I do. Well, I have no idea how the song goes, but the whale thing…oh, yeah.
Glad you enjoyed that. Here’s the song so you can sing along with my new lyrics! :)
My old computer doesn’t do links, so I couldn’t see it. Sorry. But I love that you do not talk down to your readers.