"IN HIS MASTER'S STEPS HE TROD . . ."

1. TELE-TYPES

("I am the Very Pattern of a Modern Major General," Pirates of Penzance, Act I)

The Journalist.

I am the very model of a television journalist:

My point of view is insular; my politics, internalist.

Although a bit perfunctory with Commie demagoguery,

I shine at exposés of penny-ante pettifoggery;

Instead of gauging odds against a European holocaust,

I'd rather be reporting what the movie Marco Polo cost;

I squander thirty seconds on a pestilence in Pakistan—[bus.]

And budget seven minutes for a photograph of Jackie's tan.

When I was only ten, my dying mother made me promise I'd

Refuse to cover Congress, when confronted with a homicide;

And that's why I'm an insular, inflexibly internalist,

Unmitigated model of a television journalist.

The Executive.

I am the very pattern of a network chief executive:

I've only two ideas, and they're frankly not consecutive.

The first of these is violence, a thing we only simulate;

The other one is T and A, but not enough to stimulate.

I don't air documentaries or other esoterica,

But you can watch the Oscars and the race for Miss America:

Your kids'll learn humility and grace from the Academy—[bus.]

And watching Miss America will teach 'em their anademy.

The F.C.C.'s unshakably persuaded that the nation'll

Be better off with me to make the airwaves educational,

So I've a third idea (and it's also not consecutive)

That I'm the very pattern or a network chief executive.

The Viewer.

I am the very type of ratings-sample representative:

In terms of evolution, my intelligence is tentative.

I'm chosen by the Nielsen boys to keep a viewing chronicle,

Because my chin's receding and my cranium is conical.

Executives and journalists exhibit fitting deference

By structuring their programs to accommodate my preference;

The sponsors bust their chops to charm my occiput of ivory—[bus.]

An enterprise that dooms them all to lives of nine-to-fivery.

For should they ever hesitate to pander to vulgarity,

They'll all become recipients of governmental charity.

My judgment is conclusive, though my intellect is tentative,

And that's why I'm the type of ratings-sample representative.

2. THE HANGING JUDGE AND THE BLEEDING HEART

(Sullivan's "A Policeman's Lot is Not a Happy One," Pirates of Penzance, Act II)

The Hanging Judge.

When a felon's finished plying his employment—his employment,

Then I fricassee his hide with flaming words—flaming words,

Till he understands exactly what the boy meant—what the boy meant

Who said, "This burning deck is for the birds—for the birds!"

I castigate the crook for his transgression—his transgression,

When judiciary's duty's to be done—to be done.

I'll say this much for the criminal profession—'nal profession:

It arouses my sadistic sense of fun.

Oh!

When judiciary duty's to be done—to be done,

It arouses my sadistic sense of fun—sense of fun.

When I find an irresponsible defendant—'ble defendant

(Who's responsible, however, for a crime—for a crime),

With formal pomp, in flowing robes resplendent—robes resplendent,

I clap him in the clink to do some time—do some time.

But the pokey turns defendants into rowdies—into rowdies

Who vow to fill my carcass full of lead—full of lead.

Like a Jew who sleeps among a gang of Saudis—gang of Saudis,

I'm afraid that someday soon I'll wake up dead.

Oh!

As they vow to fill my carcass full of lead—full of lead,

I'm afraid that someday soon I'll wake up dead—wake up dead.

The Bleeding Heart.

The garrotter who attacks you on the highway—on the highway

Is a pitiable thing, when rightly viewed—rightly viewed;

How I wish that Justice Rehnquist saw it my way—saw it my way,

Instead of being such a jurisprude—jurisprude!

Society at large is truly guilty—truly guilty,

When judiciary duty's to be done—to be done;

So to keep the mood from getting stern or stilty—stern or stilty,

I embrace the blackguard as I would my son.

Oh!

When judiciary duty's to be done—to be done,

I embrace the blackguard as I would my son—would my son.

The appeals from nisi prius controversy—controversy

Are the means by which I draw my monthly check—monthly check.

I always temper Justice, though, with Mercy—though, with Mercy,

So Justice always gets it in the neck—in the neck.

Stressing Mercy makes the victims vitriolic—vitriolic,

So, though my job is jam and gingerbread—gingerbread,

I can never find excuse for fun and frolic—fun and frolic:

I'm afraid that someday soon I'll wake up dead.

Oh!

Even though my job is jam and gingerbread—gingerbread,

I'm afraid that someday soon I'll wake up dead—wake up dead.

3. ENCORE LYRICS FOR GILBERT AND SULLIVAN

("I've Got a Little List," Mikado, Act I; "My Object All Sublime," Mikado, Act II; and "O! Foolish Fay," Iolanthe, Act II)

Then that walking oxymoron who's infesting academe,

The creation scientist—I've got him on the list.

Excrescences who stand outside an embassy and scream;

They never would be missed—they never would be missed.

And those hungry politicians who are always eating crow,

Such as "Monkey Business"—"Hymie Town"—and "Plagiarizin' Joe"—

"I Don't Recall"—"I Once Smoked Pot"—and "I Am Not a Wimp"—

Republican or Democrat, it's clear you needn't skimp.

I warrant you'll discover someone worthy of the list;

They'd none of 'em be missed—they'd none of 'em be missed.

Yes, we really must insist

That you put 'em on the list,

For, in case you missed the gist,

They'd none of 'em be missed.

* * * *

The Springsteen fan with false machismo

Who dresses like the Boss

Is locked up in Zabar's

With patrons of gay bars

And users of dental floss.

The whiz at computers, who buys a gizmo

(By teatime, it's obsolete),

Must hack in an attic

Surrounded by static,

Humidity, dust and heat.

The preacher with detachable collars

Who tastes Forbidden Fruit

Is made to dwell

In a cheap motel

With a common prostitute;

And there he pays her oodles of dollars

To do his tax return,

And report the bread

That he steals, instead

Of the pittance he claims to earn.

* * * *

When love is nigh

And fairies flip,

When hearts beat high

And pulses skip,

Then I apply

The Vulcan Grip.

They have to learn,

My fairy flock,

That when they yearn

For Bill or Jock,

It's time to turn

To Mister Spock.

(O! Mister Spock!

True type of Dickens' Dombey!

Say, could thy thumb

Make me become

An unresponsive zombie?)

4. Duet: PRISM'S PERPLEX; or, A Parent Apparent

(Illustrating the Influence of W.S. Gilbert on Oscar Wilde)

("The Lady of My Love," Iolanthe, Act I Finale)

Jack Worthing.

The upshot, Lady Bracknell, is I haven't got a parent—

Ah, me! An orphan boy am I!

'Twere false asserting otherwise, and so, you see, I daren't—

Fiddle-faddle, fiddle-faddle, fal, lal, la!

Although my "line"'s a lengthy one and prominent my "station,"

I illustrate a paradox of human generation:

I'm son and heir to no one, but my parents are the Nation—

Fiddle-faddle, fiddle-faddle, fal, lal, la!

Lady Bracknell.

I'm sorry, Mr. Worthing, but you may not wed my daughter—

Oh, fie! An orphan boy is he!

To marry into cloakrooms is a thing I've never taught her—

Fiddle-faddle, fiddle-faddle, fal, lal, la!

To lose a single parent, when you're small and pink and hairless,

Is undoubtedly unfortunate—I couldn't well declare less;

But losing both, I grieve to say, is getting rather careless—

Fiddle-faddle, fiddle-faddle, fal, lal, la!

5. THE GILBERT-AND-SULLIVAN ENTHUSIAST (by one of them)

("If You're Anxious for to Shine," Patience, Act I)

If you wish to make a stir in the G-and-S milieu as a chap who knows his stuff,

First go burrowing through stores buying manuscripts and scores, 'til your purse cries, "Hold, enough!"

You'll make Professor Ellis preternaturally jealous, if you buy this item sight unseen—

The Iolanthe stretto, scrawled across an old libretto in the hand of Martyn Green.

And every one will say,

As you piss away your pay,

"If he can spring for something that once was worn by Ben Hashbaz,

Why, when it comes to fritterable piles of cash, what piles of cash he has!"

Be eloquent in praise of Sir Arthur's lesser lays, while you pooh-pooh Pinafore;

Try to prove The Beauty Stone is an enharmonic clone of the long-lost Thespis score.

You'll answer, if they quiz, that Haddon Hall is his, but The Mountebanks is not;

For Art stopped short at contributing support to the so-called "Lozenge Plot."

And every one will say,

As they try to stay au fait,

"If he can trace Grand Duke motifs in the theme to All That Jazz,

Why, when it comes to periods of leisure time, what leisure time he has!"

Then devote yourself to hoarding every possible recording made since Nipper was a pup,

And compare them to each other, 'til Sir Malcolm Sargent's mother wouldn't know which way was up.

All the dilettantes will cave in, in the presence of a maven—and a maven's what you'll be,

If you play 'em Martin Borman's private novelty performance of "A Maiden Fair to See."

And every one will say,

As you sit all day and bray,

"He seems to own every record from the late Danny Kaye to the late Cox-Ife;

So, if you were to ask me what he ought to get, he ought to get a life!"

6. A LITTLE LIST

("As Some Day It May Happen," The Mikado, Act I)

As some day I may want a subject fit to execute,

I've got a little list—I've got a little list

Of society offenders who are held in disrepute,

And who never would be missed—who never would be missed!

There's the movie palace patron with the intermittent cough;

The pest who owns a PDA and never turns it off;

The diner who is less than prompt at reaching for the check;

The broker who promotes a stock because it ends in "-tech";

And women in department stores who fill your lungs with mist—

I rather doubt the mist is likely to be missed!

He's got 'em on the list—he's got 'em on the list;

And they'll none of 'em be missed—they'll none of 'em be miss'd!

There's the amateur who tries to beat the Master at his game,

The Gilbertian parodist—I've got him on the list;

And the chap who thinks he knows your face, but can't recall your name—

He never would be miss'd—he never would be miss'd!

Then the pesky telemarketer who calls you during meals;

The invalid who tells you how his upper colon feels;

And the fellow in the Underground who offers you a seat

And, as soon as you are seated, drops his briefcase on your feet;

And the interfering spouse who always interrupts your tryst—

I don't think she'd be missed—I'm sure he'd not be missed!

He's got her on the list—he's got him on the list;

And he don't think she'll be missed—he's sure he won't be miss'd!

Then that gentleman who recently has dropped a brick or two—

The Al Qaeda terrorist—I've got him on the list;

The fools who voice opinions when they haven't got a clue—

They never would be miss'd—they never would be miss'd!

The enthusiastic golfer who remembers every stroke,

But can never quite remember how to tell that funny joke;

And spineless politicians who are low on moral grit—

Conservative or liberal, it matters not a whit;

And the snob who thinks that Sullivan's inferior to Liszt—

You may take his precious Liszt and stick it in—the list!

You may put 'em on the list—you may put 'em on the list;

And they'll none of 'em be missed—they'll none of 'em be missed!

7. SOVEREIGN REMEDY

("Never Mind the Why and Wherefore," H.M.S. Pinafore, Act II)

After all the fuss and fanfare,

How did Edward, Charles and Anne fare?

With the Jubilee orations

And the rockets in the sky,

Did Her Majesty's relations

Wind up sitting high and dry?

Ring the bells the length of Britain—

Fire the guns on every ship;

Hand the Royal Kids the mitten,

Give the Queen the old "hip, hip."

For Her Majesty is nifty

(Going strong in annus fifty),

And Her Majesty is groovy

(Like a Merchant-Iv'ry movie)!

When the other Windsors blunder,

When the Children make a mess,

Find a rug to sweep them under;

Shine the spot on Good Queen Bess!

8. IF THEY EVER RELEASE THE NAUGHTY VICTORIANS ON VIDEO

TRIAL BY JURY.

(From No. 13. "I love him")

The Masochist.

I love her—I love her Saran wrap and leather,

I worship her buckles and snaps.

My abject behavior when tied with a tether

Is only exceeded with straps.

I'm too realistic to rank as a mystic—

I don't care a fig for "romance";

But I'm masochistic, and when she's sadistic,

I frequently come in my pants.

The Dominatrix.

I burn like a furnace to bludgeon his gonads

And punish his whang with my switch—

Like Joan Rivers, doing her long-distance phone ads,

I'm such an unmerciful Bitch!

The "Male Chauvinistic" becomes a statistic,

When I take a dominant stance.

It sounds narcissistic, but when I'm sadistic,

I frequently come in my pants.

THE SORCERER.

(From No. 15. "If you'll marry me")

Gold Diggers.

If you show me yours, I'll turn my finest trick for you!

If you show me yours, I'll osculate your dick for you!

If you show me yours, I'll say it's long and thick for you!

All.

Such a lovely lay, if you show me yours!

Sugar Daddies.

If you show me yours, I'll spend a lot of bucks for you!

What else can I say, if you show me yours?

I'm prepared to pay, if you show me yours!

All.

Eh, but I'd screw with you!

H.M.S. PINAFORE.

(From No. 8. "I am the monarch of the sea")

The Stud.

I am the King of One-Night Stands,

Because of over-active glands;

A Master of Erotic Arts.

The Harem.

And we are his mistresses and courtesans and tarts, etc.

The Stud.

When I glide my glans inside,

The woman rides astride,

For it keeps my fingers free to feel her parts.

The Harem.

Like those of his mistresses and courtesans and tarts, etc.

The Stud.

(But when the beazels blow,

They generally blow below,

To stifle the flatulence of female farts.)

The Harem.

Like those of his mistresses and courtesans and tarts, etc.

His mistresses and courtes-

Ans, who number in the forties,

And his tarts!

(From No. 18. "He is an Englishman")

The Harem.

He is a Ten-Inch Man:

For he himself has said it

(Though it may be hard to credit

That he is a Ten-Inch Man—

If he is a Ten-Inch Man).

While it might've been a cripple,

No larger than a nipple,

With a measly two-inch span—

With a measly two-inch span,

Yet, by means of strict eu-geenics

And a boyhood spent in Phoenix,

He became a Ten-Inch Man—

He beca-ame a-a Te-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-en-Inch Man.

Yet, by means of strict eu-geenics

And a boyhood spent in Phoenix,

He became a Ten-Inch Man—

He beca-ame a-a Te-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-en-Inch Man.

THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE.

(From No. 11. "Here's a first-rate opportunity")

The Goats.

By an opportune fortuity,

We've a chance for promiscuity;

So prepare to be de-Calvinized,

'Cause my cock's completely galvanized.

Let us praise your intra-uterine,

As I slip my throbbing shooter in;

In the days of Queen Victoria,

This was how they found euphoria.

The Nymphets.

By an opportune fortuity,

I'd enjoy some promiscuity;

I consent to be de-Calvinized,

If your cock is truly galvanized.

Though I've got no intra-uterine,

Go ahead and slip your shooter in;

In the days of Queen Victoria,

This was how they found euphoria.

All.

In the days of Queen Victoria,

This was how they found euphoria;

In the days, in the