Another Michael Scarpitti?
Victor Loverro
Jan T
Michael...?
"Victor Loverro" <victor....@verizon.net> schreef in bericht
news:uov5c.26140$F9.2...@nwrddc01.gnilink.net...
> http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,114256,00.html
>
>
Alexis Neel
First, Fox news isn't. Its more of a conservative outlet for crap
(notice the book advertisement on that page...for the Conservative
book club).
And yes while the story is true, I doubt our very own MS would take
that much time away from posting the dreck he does here to do
something useful as confront the timber industry.
Tobias Begalke
serial killer in film), played by Peter Lorre in Fritz Lang's "M"
(1931)...do we recognize a theme here?
Tobias
Victor Loverro wrote:
> http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,114256,00.html
>
>
Michael Scarpitti
Hans Beckert is a fictional character. Perhaps that is lost on you.
Michael Scarpitti
USEFUL? Confront the timber industry? Are you mad? They provide paper!
Silvio Manuel
mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti) wrote:
> USEFUL? Confront the timber industry? Are you mad? They provide paper!
However the PULP fiction YOU write does not require it.
--
Would you like to know the precise date of your own death?
What if anything is too serious to be joked about?
Do you ever spit or pick your nose in public?
Tobias Begalke
what in my posting leads you to believe it is lost on me? I applaud the
fact that you pick names of psychos, fictional or real. The choice could
not be better.
Silvio Manuel
Tobias Begalke <t...@funkedup.net> wrote:
> The choice could not be better.
It maybe better to rephrase that as " could not be more appropriate".
Alexis Neel
Redwood tracts, a good practice. Proper forest management, and land
management after harvesting timber, with respect to proper replanting
of saplings and mindful of animal life, and their affect on the
ecosystem, are MUCH more important than making paper.
Perhaps if people would not follow most of your advice, there would be
less of a demand for photo paper, which might save a few trees.
LOL!!!
Alexis
mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti) wrote in message news:<2fd2ff8c.04031...@posting.google.com>...
John
>And yes while the story is true, I doubt our very own MS would take
>that much time away from posting the dreck he does here to do
>something useful as confront the timber industry.
He's still posting here ? I can only assume it is because so
many are still reading his posts.
Regards,
John S. Douglas, Photographer - http://www.darkroompro.com
Please remove the "_" when replying via email
Michael Scarpitti
It takes skill to do these things right, you know...
Michael Scarpitti
> In article <c39tcr$kma$00$1...@news.t-online.com>,
> Tobias Begalke <t...@funkedup.net> wrote:
>
> > The choice could not be better.
>
> It maybe better to rephrase that as " could not be more appropriate".
Norman Bates is looking for you.....
Michael Scarpitti
> Yes useful. I do not find clear cutting, especially large amounts of
> Redwood tracts, a good practice. Proper forest management, and land
> management after harvesting timber, with respect to proper replanting
> of saplings and mindful of animal life, and their affect on the
> ecosystem, are MUCH more important than making paper.
> Perhaps if people would not follow most of your advice, there would be
> less of a demand for photo paper, which might save a few trees.
>
> LOL!!!
>
> Alexis
Why don't you join THAT Michael Scarpitti? You apparently have more,
much more, in common with him than I do..
You...envirolunatic....
Silvio Manuel
Yes, obviously you have changed your name again.
Silvio Manuel
> Norman Bates is looking for you.....
So now your known as "Master Bates" are you. ha ha ha ha ha.
Silvio Manuel
mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti) wrote:
> Tobias Begalke <t...@funkedup.net> wrote in message news:<c39tcr$kma$00$1...@news.t-online.com>...
> > what in my posting leads you to believe it is lost on me? I applaud the
> > fact that you pick names of psychos, fictional or real. The choice could
> > not be better.
>
> It takes skill to do these things right, you know...
Or the workings of a truely sick, pathetic mind. LOL
Alexis Neel
I have on some levels, and should the situation arise again, I'd gladly do it.
Beats sitting on my duff, writing dreck like you do.
Alexis
Michael Scarpitti
You flatter yourself...
You could never reach the quality level of writing that I have achieved...
Go join my namesake in prison, Michael 'James' Scarpitti
Michael Anthony Scarpitti
>
> Alexis
Silvio Manuel
> You flatter yourself...
> You could never reach the quality level of writing that I have achieved...
Of course if he chooses something other than toilet paper
he may even surpass it.
Michael Scarpitti
> In article <2fd2ff8c.04031...@posting.google.com>,
> mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti) wrote:
>
> > Tobias Begalke <t...@funkedup.net> wrote in message news:<c39tcr$kma$00$1...@news.t-online.com>...
> > > what in my posting leads you to believe it is lost on me? I applaud the
> > > fact that you pick names of psychos, fictional or real. The choice could
> > > not be better.
> >
> > It takes skill to do these things right, you know...
>
> Or the workings of a truely sick, pathetic mind. LOL
And who, my friend, are you?
MikeWhy
news:uov5c.26140$F9.2...@nwrddc01.gnilink.net...
> http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,114256,00.html
I feel ever so much safer, not because the petty arsonist is in custody. I
feel all warm and fuzzy, safe enough to let the kids out of the bomb shelter
a few hours at a time, because the FBI's number one domestic terrorist
priority is a radical tree hugger. I wonder how dangerous number two is.
Paper cuts? Obscenities chanted in unison? Plastic knives concealed in the
shoes?
Silvio Manuel
"MikeWhy" <mik...@my-deja.com> wrote:
>
> I feel ever so much safer, not because the petty arsonist is in custody. I
> feel all warm and fuzzy, safe enough to let the kids out of the bomb shelter
> a few hours at a time, because the FBI's number one domestic terrorist
> priority is a radical tree hugger. I wonder how dangerous number two is.
> Paper cuts? Obscenities chanted in unison? Plastic knives concealed in the
> shoes?
Or then again it could be because the FBI is basically clueless who the real terrorists
are that are among us.
Jon
> You flatter yourself...
> You could never reach the quality level of writing that I have achieved...
>
> Go join my namesake in prison, Michael 'James' Scarpitti
>
>
>
> Michael Anthony Scarpitti
How many names do you have??? I realize you use "Hans Beckert" on photo.net
because your ass got canned over there...
Why so many, Mike? It isn't hard to figure out when both Hans and Mike spout
the same dogmatic statements and post the same (poorly photographed) images
as examples.
You are a real smart guy... so answer this: what is your real name?
Michael Scarpitti
Michael Scarpitti
> In article <x2_6c.795$OZ5...@newssvr24.news.prodigy.com>,
> "MikeWhy" <mik...@my-deja.com> wrote:
> >
> > I feel ever so much safer, not because the petty arsonist is in custody. I
> > feel all warm and fuzzy, safe enough to let the kids out of the bomb shelter
> > a few hours at a time, because the FBI's number one domestic terrorist
> > priority is a radical tree hugger. I wonder how dangerous number two is.
> > Paper cuts? Obscenities chanted in unison? Plastic knives concealed in the
> > shoes?
>
> Or then again it could be because the FBI is basically clueless who the real terrorists
> are that are among us.
Apparently this guy was real trouble.
Michael Scarpitti
( ) ** $J 1 00 %^M[]
That's using the archaic spelling, which hasn't been used since the
third century BCE.
Jon
> From: mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti)
> Organization: http://groups.google.com
> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
> Date: 25 Mar 2004 16:28:29 -0800
> Subject: Re: Another Michael Scarpitti?
Yep, your knowledge of photographic materials is that dated for sure, Mr.
Ladislav Loewenstein, III.
Jon
>>> because your ass got canned over there...
>>>
>>> Why so many, Mike? It isn't hard to figure out when both Hans and Mike spout
>>> the same dogmatic statements and post the same (poorly photographed) images
>>> as examples.
>>>
>>> You are a real smart guy... so answer this: what is your real name?
>>
>> ( ) ** $J 1 00 %^M[]
>>
>> That's using the archaic spelling, which hasn't been used since the
>> third century BCE.
>
> Yep, your knowledge of photographic materials is that dated for sure, Mr.
> Ladislav Loewenstein, III.
>
Hey Scarpitti/Beckert/Loewenstein I see you got canned from Photo.net for
lying about your identity. Man, you sure do lie a lot! Hmmm, you lie, you
have dubious knowledge in the darkroom, and your photographs are pathetic.
Guess I would go around faking names too...
Ivan Kuturcockoff
Jon <vze2...@verizon.net> wrote:
> Guess I would go around faking names too...
Or just being the troll you normally are.
Jon
Hey Mike! Shoot any rhinos at the zoo? Post some more of that yearbook crap
you call photography! Come up with a more creative name next time on
photo.net, so it doesn't only take me thirty seconds to get your ass kicked
off again.
John
>
>Hey Mike! Shoot any rhinos at the zoo?
I am beginning to think I need to filter all of the people who
are not capable of filtering this idiot.
Michael Scarpitti
Michael Scarpitti
And who might YOU be, Sir? What do YOU know about anything?
Ivan Kuturcockoff
mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti) wrote:
>
> And who might YOU be, Sir? What do YOU know about anything?
I know you have pea size brain and a false sense of grandeur,.....I guess
Jon was correct after all. But then again had he left your poor pathetic
flea bitten butt alone you would have been a nice doggy and slept. Do us all
a favor now, go back to sleep.
Jon
> From: mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti)
> Organization: http://groups.google.com
> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
> Date: 6 Apr 2004 09:50:27 -0700
> Subject: Re: Another Michael Scarpitti? Or Hans Beckert. Or Ladislav
> Loewenstein, III.
Two to zero Mike/Hans... you lose. Which is appropriate for a loser.
Jon
> From: John <use...@darkroompro.com>
> Organization: Posted via Forte APN, http://www.forteinc.com/apn/index.php
> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
> Date: Tue, 06 Apr 2004 10:29:22 -0500
> Subject: Re: Another Michael Scarpitti? Or Hans Beckert. Or Ladislav
> Loewenstein, III.
>
> On Tue, 06 Apr 2004 07:46:55 GMT, Jon <vze2...@verizon.net> wrote:
>
>>
>> Hey Mike! Shoot any rhinos at the zoo?
>
> I am beginning to think
It is about time. Don't open your mouth next time until you do.
David Nebenzahl
I thought the correct form for your name was "Ivanna Kuturcockoff".
--
... but never have I encountered a guy who could not be bothered
to make his own case on his own show.
- Eric Alterman on his appearance on Dennis Miller's bomb of a show
on CNBC (3/17/04)
John
>>> Hey Mike! Shoot any rhinos at the zoo?
>>
>> I am beginning to think
>
>It is about time. Don't open your mouth next time until you do.
Done
Ivan Kuturcockoff
Jon <vze2...@verizon.net> wrote:
> It is about time. Don't open your mouth next time until you do.
Just because you were correct, does not excuse you as the bozo patrol.
Michael Scarpitti
(93849708236456261396487`23578`235697056) . (8137783412473762,09) .
(345130744123476-6304847)
(Heh heh heh......)
Jon
Who asked you, captain dickless?
Jon
> From: mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti)
> Organization: http://groups.google.com
> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
> Date: 7 Apr 2004 07:05:11 -0700
> Subject: Re: Another Michael Scarpitti? Or Hans Beckert. Or Ladislav
> Loewenstein, III.
>
> Ivan Kuturcockoff <sharp...@rcsinc.org> wrote in message
> news:<sharpblade-55B02...@news.verizon.net>...
>> In article <2fd2ff8c.04040...@posting.google.com>,
>> mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti) wrote:
>>>
>>> And who might YOU be, Sir? What do YOU know about anything?
>>
>> I know you have pea size brain and a false sense of grandeur,.....I guess
>> Jon was correct after all. But then again had he left your poor pathetic
>> flea bitten butt alone you would have been a nice doggy and slept. Do us all
>> a favor now, go back to sleep.
Konrad Veidt, II?
Gee Mike, you are as pathetic at creating fake names as you are as a
photographer!
Michael Scarpitti
If you have something to say, shut up.
Suggested reading for you, Jon:
'Bipedalism: Is it for You?'
Jon
> From: mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti)
> Organization: http://groups.google.com
> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
> Date: 8 Apr 2004 06:35:15 -0700
> Subject: Re: Another Michael Scarpitti? Or Hans Beckert. Or Ladislav
> Loewenstein, III. Or Konrad Veidt, II
Suggested reading for you, Mike/Hans/whomever you fantasize you are today:
"The Dummies Guide to Being a Complete Fucking Loser: How to create useless
names for a pathetic person"
Not that changing your name changes you--same poor darkroom knowledge, same
lame photographs. Doesn't look like that will change.
Michael Scarpitti
This is what we expected from you.
Michael Scarpitti
> Yep, your knowledge of photographic materials is that dated for sure, Mr.
> Ladislav Loewenstein, III.
!
Jon
> From: mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti)
> Organization: http://groups.google.com
> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
> Date: 9 Apr 2004 06:29:32 -0700
"We"?
Do you have a mouse in your pocket or by 'we' do you mean all your fake
names? Or 'we' as in photo.net moderators that kicked your trolling ass off
the site?
Here is your next fake name: Ima P. Loser. 'P' is for pathetic.
Michael Scarpitti
We are not amused, Onan...
Jon
> From: mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti)
> Organization: http://groups.google.com
> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
> Date: 13 Apr 2004 08:46:37 -0700
Get your hand out of your pants and then you will realize there is only one
of you. And quit being such a loser... well, I guess you have proven that
that isn't possible.
Ivan Kuturcockoff
mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti) wrote:
>
> Do you think that your responses bother me?
Obviously he bothered you enough to get you to respond.
Jon
> From: mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti)
> Organization: http://groups.google.com
> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
> Date: 16 Apr 2004 06:19:43 -0700
> Subject: Re: Another Michael Scarpitti? Or Hans Beckert. Or Ladislav
> Loewenstein, III. Or Konrad Veidt, II
>
> Jon <vze2...@verizon.net> wrote in message
> news:<BCA4DD9B.7ED4C%vze2...@verizon.net>...
>
>>> We are not amused, Onan...
>>
>> Get your hand out of your pants and then you will realize there is only one
>> of you. And quit being such a loser... well, I guess you have proven that
>> that isn't possible.
>
> Do you think that your responses bother me?
It is irrelevant what you think--the fact of the matter is that you are a
deceitful loser, with an ego that is large in inverse relation to your
darkroom knowledge. Thank you for your consistent dogmatic whine on
photo.net--now newbies will not have to be UnScarpitti-ed since you have
been kicked off.
Michael Scarpitti
Yeah...they will learn falsehoods taught by ignorant boneheaded
zone-worshipping cretins like you.....
Jon
> From: mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti)
> Organization: http://groups.google.com
> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
> Date: 18 Apr 2004 13:28:31 -0700
> Subject: Re: Another Michael Scarpitti? Or Hans Beckert. Or Ladislav
> Loewenstein, III. Or Konrad Veidt, II
>
> Jon <vze2...@verizon.net> wrote in message
> news:<BCA794D7.7EDB7%vze2...@verizon.net>...
>>> From: mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti)
>>> Organization: http://groups.google.com
>>> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
>>> Date: 16 Apr 2004 06:19:43 -0700
>>> Subject: Re: Another Michael Scarpitti? Or Hans Beckert. Or Ladislav
>>> Loewenstein, III. Or Konrad Veidt, II
>>>
>>> Jon <vze2...@verizon.net> wrote in message
>>> news:<BCA4DD9B.7ED4C%vze2...@verizon.net>...
>>>
>>>>> We are not amused, Onan...
>>>>
>>>> Get your hand out of your pants and then you will realize there is only one
>>>> of you. And quit being such a loser... well, I guess you have proven that
>>>> that isn't possible.
>>>
>>> Do you think that your responses bother me?
>>
>> It is irrelevant what you think--the fact of the matter is that you are a
>> deceitful loser, with an ego that is large in inverse relation to your
>> darkroom knowledge. Thank you for your consistent dogmatic whine on
>> photo.net--now newbies will not have to be UnScarpitti-ed since you have
>> been kicked off.
>
>
>
> Yeah...they will learn falsehoods taught by ignorant boneheaded
> zone-worshipping cretins like you.....
You would have to understand the zone system in order to use it as an
insult, Mike/Hans/loser.
But instead of learning something, create a couple new lies to tell people.
I loved the one about you photographing all those big 70s bands. Then again,
since you are a consistent liar, who cares what you pretend to know.
When all else fails, loser, you can always go back to your response to
everything: "process it in Acutol".
Or more accurately, "Asshole-it-all".
Michael Scarpitti
(27134629`050`2346570246578962893475206)
Michael Scarpitti
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain,
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This is it, and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you."
Here I opened wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?",
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
'Tis the wind, and nothing more."
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered,
"Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore.
" Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,
--- Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore." But the raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore,
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking, "Nevermore."
Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I implore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore---
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked, upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws the shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!
Jon
> From: mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti)
> Organization: http://groups.google.com
> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
> Date: 19 Apr 2004 07:35:00 -0700
Big man, pig man, ha ha, charade you are
You well heeled big wheel, ha ha, charade you are
And when your hand is on your heart
You're nearly a good laugh
Almost a joker
With your head down in the pig bin
Saying "keep on digging"
Pig stain on your fat chin
What do you hope to find?
When you're down in the pig mine
You're nearly a laugh
You're nearly a laugh
But you're really a cry.
Bus stop rat bag, ha ha, charade you are
You fucked up old hag, ha ha, charade you are
You radiate cold shafts of broken glass
You're nearly a good laugh
Almost worth a quick grin
You like the feel of steel
You're hot stuff with a hat pin
And good fun with a hand gun
You're nearly a laugh
You're nearly a laugh
But you're really a cry.
Hey you Whitehouse, ha ha, charade you are
You house proud town mouse, ha ha, charade you are
You're trying to keep our feelings off the street
You're nearly a real treat
All tight lips and cold feet
And do you feel abused?
.....!.....!.....!.....!
You gotta stem the evil tide
And keep it all on the inside
Mary you're nearly a treat
Mary you're nearly a treat
But you're really a cry.
You are unlike either Poe or the author of this song--they had/have skill.
http://www.photo.net/bboard/q-and-a-fetch-msg?msg_id=007QLi
Best post on Photo.net ever! What a moron!
Michael Scarpitti
>
> http://www.photo.net/bboard/q-and-a-fetch-msg?msg_id=007QLi
>
> Best post on Photo.net ever! What a moron!
Mary had a little lamb,
Little lamb , little lamb ,
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow.
Everywhere that Mary went,
Mary went, Mary went,
Everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.
It followed her to school one day,
School one day, school one day,
It followed her to school one day,
Which was against the rules.
It made the children laugh and play,
Laugh and play, laugh and play,
It made the children laugh and play,
To see a lamb in school.
Michael Scarpitti
Hey, diddle, diddle!
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon;
The little dog laughed
To see such sport,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.
Michael Scarpitti
Abbott: Well Costello, I'm going to New York with you. You know Bookie
Harris, the Yankee's manager, gave me a job as coach for as long as
you're on the team.
Costello: Look Abbott, if you're the coach, you must know all the
players.
Abbott: I certainly do.
Costello: Well you know I've never met the guys. So you'll have to
tell me their names, and then I'll know who's playing on the team.
Abbott: Oh, I'll tell you their names, but you know it seems to me
they give these ball players now-a-days very peculiar names.
Costello: You mean funny names?
Abbott: Strange names, pet names...like Dizzy Dean...
Costello: His brother Daffy.
Abbott: Daffy Dean...
Costello: And their French cousin.
Abbott: French?
Costello: Goofè.
Abbott: Goofè Dean. Well, let's see, we have on the bags, Who's on
first, What's on second, I Don't Know is on third...
Costello: That's what I want to find out.
Abbott: I say Who's on first, What's on second, I Don't Know's on
third.
Costello: Are you the manager?
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: You gonna be the coach too?
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: And you don't know the fellows' names?
Abbott: Well I should.
Costello: Well then who's on first?
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: I mean the fellow's name.
Abbott: Who.
Costello: The guy on first.
Abbott: Who.
Costello: The first baseman.
Abbott: Who.
Costello: The guy playing...
Abbott: Who is on first!
Costello: I'm asking YOU who's on first.
Abbott: That's the man's name.
Costello: That's who's name?
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: Well go ahead and tell me.
Abbott: That's it.
Costello: That's who?
Abbott: Yes.
PAUSE
Costello: Look, you gotta first baseman?
Abbott: Certainly.
Costello: Who's playing first?
Abbott: That's right.
Costello: When you pay off the first baseman every month, who gets the
money?
Abbott: Every dollar of it.
Costello: All I'm trying to find out is the fellow's name on first
base.
Abbott: Who.
Costello: The guy that gets...
Abbott: That's it.
Costello: Who gets the money...
Abbott: He does, every dollar. Sometimes his wife comes down and
collects it.
Costello: Who's wife?
Abbott: Yes.
PAUSE
Abbott: What's wrong with that?
Costello: Look, all I wanna know is when you sign up the first
baseman, how does he sign his name?
Abbott: Who.
Costello: The guy.
Abbott: Who.
Costello: How does he sign...
Abbott: That's how he signs it.
Costello: Who?
Abbott: Yes.
PAUSE
Costello: All I'm trying to find out is what's the guy's name on first
base.
Abbott: No. What is on second base.
Costello: I'm not asking you who's on second.
Abbott: Who's on first.
Costello: One base at a time!
Abbott: Well, don't change the players around.
Costello: I'm not changing nobody!
Abbott: Take it easy, buddy.
Costello: I'm only asking you, who's the guy on first base?
Abbott: That's right.
Costello: Ok.
Abbott: All right.
PAUSE
Costello: What's the guy's name on first base?
Abbott: No. What is on second.
Costello: I'm not asking you who's on second.
Abbott: Who's on first.
Costello: I don't know.
Abbott: He's on third, we're not talking about him.
Costello: Now how did I get on third base?
Abbott: Why you mentioned his name.
Costello: If I mentioned the third baseman's name, who did I say is
playing third?
Abbott: No. Who's playing first.
Costello: What's on base?
Abbott: What's on second.
Costello: I don't know.
Abbott: He's on third.
Costello: There I go, back on third again!
PAUSE
Costello: Would you just stay on third base and don't go off it.
Abbott: All right, what do you want to know?
Costello: Now who's playing third base?
Abbott: Why do you insist on putting Who on third base?
Costello: What am I putting on third.
Abbott: No. What is on second.
Costello: You don't want who on second?
Abbott: Who is on first.
Costello: I don't know.
Abbott & Costello Together:Third base!
PAUSE
Costello: Look, you gotta outfield?
Abbott: Sure.
Costello: The left fielder's name?
Abbott: Why.
Costello: I just thought I'd ask you.
Abbott: Well, I just thought I'd tell ya.
Costello: Then tell me who's playing left field.
Abbott: Who's playing first.
Costello: I'm not... stay out of the infield! I want to know what's
the guy's name in left field?
Abbott: No, What is on second.
Costello: I'm not asking you who's on second.
Abbott: Who's on first!
Costello: I don't know.
Abbott & Costello Together: Third base!
PAUSE
Costello: The left fielder's name?
Abbott: Why.
Costello: Because!
Abbott: Oh, he's centerfield.
PAUSE
Costello: Look, You gotta pitcher on this team?
Abbott: Sure.
Costello: The pitcher's name?
Abbott: Tomorrow.
Costello: You don't want to tell me today?
Abbott: I'm telling you now.
Costello: Then go ahead.
Abbott: Tomorrow!
Costello: What time?
Abbott: What time what?
Costello: What time tomorrow are you gonna tell me who's pitching?
Abbott: Now listen. Who is not pitching.
Costello: I'll break your arm, you say who's on first! I want to know
what's the pitcher's name?
Abbott: What's on second.
Costello: I don't know.
Abbott & Costello Together: Third base!
PAUSE
Costello: Gotta a catcher?
Abbott: Certainly.
Costello: The catcher's name?
Abbott: Today.
Costello: Today, and tomorrow's pitching.
Abbott: Now you've got it.
Costello: All we got is a couple of days on the team.
PAUSE
Costello: You know I'm a catcher too.
Abbott: So they tell me.
Costello: I get behind the plate to do some fancy catching, Tomorrow's
pitching on my team and a heavy hitter gets up. Now the heavy hitter
bunts the ball. When he bunts the ball, me, being a good catcher, I'm
gonna throw the guy out at first base. So I pick up the ball and throw
it to who?
Abbott: Now that's the first thing you've said right.
Costello: I don't even know what I'm talking about!
PAUSE
Abbott: That's all you have to do.
Costello: Is to throw the ball to first base.
Abbott: Yes!
Costello: Now who's got it?
Abbott: Naturally.
PAUSE
Costello: Look, if I throw the ball to first base, somebody's gotta
get it. Now who has it?
Abbott: Naturally.
Costello: Who?
Abbott: Naturally.
Costello: Naturally?
Abbott: Naturally.
Costello: So I pick up the ball and I throw it to Naturally.
Abbott: No you don't, you throw the ball to Who.
Costello: Naturally.
Abbott: That's different.
Costello: That's what I said.
Abbott: You're not saying it...
Costello: I throw the ball to Naturally.
Abbott: You throw it to Who.
Costello: Naturally.
Abbott: That's it.
Costello: That's what I said!
Abbott: You ask me.
Costello: I throw the ball to who?
Abbott: Naturally.
Costello: Now you ask me.
Abbott: You throw the ball to Who?
Costello: Naturally.
Abbott: That's it.
Costello: Same as you! Same as YOU! I throw the ball to who. Whoever
it is drops the ball and the guy runs to second. Who picks up the ball
and throws it to What. What throws it to I Don't Know. I Don't Know
throws it back to Tomorrow, Triple play. Another guy gets up and hits
a long fly ball to Because. Why? I don't know! He's on third and I
don't give a darn!
Abbott: What?
Costello: I said I don't give a darn!
Abbott: Oh, that's our shortstop.
Michael Scarpitti
We were talking - about the space between us all
And the people - who hide themselves behind a wall of illusion
Never glimpse the truth - then it's far too late when they pass away
We were talking - about the love we all could share
When we find it - to try our best to hold it there - with our love
With our love we could save the world - if they only knew
Try to realise it's all within yourself - no-one else can make you change
And to see you're really only very small
And life flows on within you and without you.
We were talking - about the love that's gone so cold
And the people who gain the world and lose their soul
They don't know, they can't see - are you one of them ?
When you've seen beyond yourself
then you may find peace of mind is waiting there
And the time will come when you see we're all one
And life flows on within you and without you.
Michael Scarpitti
A holiday, a holiday, and the first one of the year.
Lord Darnell's wife came into church, the gospel for to hear.
And when the meeting it was done, she cast her eyes about,
And there she saw little Matty Groves, walking in the crowd.
"Come home with me, little Matty Groves, come home with me tonight.
Come home with me, little Matty Groves, and sleep with me till light."
"Oh, I can't come home, I won't come home and sleep with you tonight,
By the rings on your fingers I can tell you are Lord Darnell's wife."
"What if I am Lord Darnell's wife? Lord Darnell's not at home.
For he is out in the far cornfields, bringing the yearlings home."
And a servant who was standing by and hearing what was said,
He swore Lord Darnell he would know before the sun would set.
And in his hurry to carry the news, he bent his breast and ran,
And when he came to the broad mill stream, he took off his shoes and swam.
Little Matty Groves, he lay down and took a little sleep.
When he awoke, Lord Darnell he was standing at his feet.
Saying "How do you like my feather bed? And how do you like my sheets?
How do you like my lady who lies in your arms asleep?"
"Oh, well I like your feather bed, and well I like your sheets.
But better I like your lady gay who lies in my arms asleep."
"Well, get up, get up," Lord Darnell cried, "get up as quick as you can!
It'll never be said in fair England that I slew a naked man."
"Oh, I can't get up, I won't get up, I can't get up for my life.
For you have two long beaten swords and I not a pocket-knife."
"Well it's true I have two beaten swords, and they cost me deep in the purse.
But you will have the better of them and I will have the worse."
"And you will strike the very first blow, and strike it like a man.
I will strike the very next blow, and I'll kill you if I can."
So Matty struck the very first blow, and he hurt Lord Darnell sore.
Lord Darnell struck the very next blow, and Matty struck no more.
And then Lord Darnell he took his wife and he sat her on his knee,
Saying, "Who do you like the best of us, Matty Groves or me?"
And then up spoke his own dear wife, never heard to speak so free.
"I'd rather a kiss from dead Matty's lips than you and your finery."
Lord Darnell he jumped up and loudly he did bawl,
He struck his wife right through the heart and pinned her against the wall.
"A grave, a grave!" Lord Darnell cried, "to put these lovers in.
But bury my lady at the top for she was of noble kin."
Frank Pittel
: > From: mikesc...@yahoo.com (Michael Scarpitti)
Maybe if he knew anything at all about photography he would have a leg to
stand on. If you remember the images he bragged about last summer it'll be
clear that he stinks as a photographer.
--
Keep working millions on welfare depend on you
-------------------
f...@deepthought.com
Michael Scarpitti
> Maybe if he knew anything at all about photography he would have a leg to
> stand on. If you remember the images he bragged about last summer it'll be
> clear that he stinks as a photographer.
Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To fetch her poor dog a bone;
But when she came there
The cupboard was bare,
And so the poor dog had none.
She took a clean dish
To get him some tripe;
But when she came back
He was smoking a pipe.
She went to the grocer's
To buy him some fruit;
But when she came back
He was playing the flute.
She went to the baker's
To buy him some bread;
But when she came back
The poor dog was dead.
She went to the undertaker's
To buy him a coffin;
But when she came back
The poor dog was laughing.
She went to the hatter's
To buy him a hat;
But when she came back
He was feeding the cat.
The dame made a curtsey,
The dog made a bow;
The dame said, "Your servant."
The dog said, "Bow wow!"
Michael Scarpitti
> Maybe if he knew anything at all about photography he would have a leg to
> stand on. If you remember the images he bragged about last summer it'll be
> clear that he stinks as a photographer.
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn't know what to do.
She gave them some broth,
Without any bread,
Whipped them all soundly, and sent them to bed.
Jon
Oh, thanks a lot Frank. I had hoped those pathetic images would never be
dredged up out of my memory again, but thanks to you...
:)
Jon
Michael Scarpitti
Als Zarathustra dreissig Jahr alt war, verliess er seine Heimat und
den See seiner Heimat und gieng in das Gebirge. Hier genoss er seines
Geistes und seiner Einsamkeit und wurde dessen zehn Jahr nicht müde.
Endlich aber verwandelte sich sein Herz,—und eines Morgens stand er
mit der Morgenröthe auf, trat vor die Sonne hin und sprach zu ihr
also:
"Du grosses Gestirn! Was wäre dein Glück, wenn du nicht Die hättest,
welchen du leuchtest!
Zehn Jahre kamst du hier herauf zu meiner Höhle: du würdest deines
Lichtes und dieses Weges satt geworden sein, ohne mich, meinen Adler
und meine Schlange.
Aber wir warteten deiner an jedem Morgen, nahmen dir deinen Überfluss
ab und segneten dich dafür.
Siehe! Ich bin meiner Weisheit überdrüssig, wie die Biene, die des
Honigs zu viel gesammelt hat, ich bedarf der Hände, die sich
ausstrecken.
Ich möchte verschenken und austheilen, bis die Weisen unter den
Menschen wieder einmal ihrer Thorheit und die Armen einmal ihres
Reichthums froh geworden sind.
Dazu muss ich in die Tiefe steigen: wie du des Abends thust, wenn du
hinter das Meer gehst und noch der Unterwelt Licht bringst, du
überreiches Gestirn!
Ich muss, gleich dir, untergehen, wie die Menschen es nennen, zu denen
ich hinab will.
So segne mich denn, du ruhiges Auge, das ohne Neid auch ein
allzugrosses Glück sehen kann!
Segne den Becher, welche überfliessen will, dass das Wasser golden aus
ihm fliesse und überallhin den Abglanz deiner Wonne trage!
Siehe! Dieser Becher will wieder leer werden, und Zarathustra will
wieder Mensch werden."
— Also begann Zarathustra's Untergang.
J.Medlock
> Yeah, that is for sure. Not only that, but he doesn't know shit about
> developers--you should read his posts on photo.net!! So many people had to
> post accurate information. What do you expect from a pathological liar?
>
Your fascination (obsession) with Scarpitti is bordering on the
pathological. I would encourage you to seek help while there
is still hope.
http://www.cyber-stalking.net/psychopathology.htm
Justin
Any Moose Poster
"J.Medlock" <jmed...@swbell.net> wrote:
> Your fascination (obsession) with Scarpitti is bordering on the
> pathological. I would encourage you to seek help while there
> is still hope.
My thoughts exactly. I finally decided to killfile them both
(again) I encourage others to do the same as neither contributes
to this group.
David Nebenzahl
> Jon <vze2...@verizon.net> wrote in message news:<BCA4DD9B.7ED4C%vze2...@verizon.net>...
>
> A holiday, a holiday, and the first one of the year.
> Lord Darnell's wife came into church, the gospel for to hear.
>
> And when the meeting it was done, she cast her eyes about,
> And there she saw little Matty Groves, walking in the crowd.
>
> "Come home with me, little Matty Groves, come home with me tonight.
> Come home with me, little Matty Groves, and sleep with me till light."
>
> "Oh, I can't come home, I won't come home and sleep with you tonight,
> By the rings on your fingers I can tell you are Lord Darnell's wife."
>
> "What if I am Lord Darnell's wife? Lord Darnell's not at home.
> For he is out in the far cornfields, bringing the yearlings home."
>
> And a servant who was standing by and hearing what was said,
> He swore Lord Darnell he would know before the sun would set.
Ah, I see you've listened to Fairport Convention too.
Also, it's quite obvious that you've gone "clear round the bend", to put it
into Anglophilic language that you might understand.
--
I was quickly apprised that an "RSS feed" was not, as I had naively
imagined, some new and unspeakable form of sexual debauchery practised
by young persons of dubious morality, but a way of providing news
articles to the cybernetic publishing moguls of the World Wide Wait so
they can fill the airwaves with even more useless drivel.
- Cynical shop talk from comp.publish.prepress
Jon
> From: Any Moose Poster <Bullwinks@bullwinkle&rockie.net>
> Organization: B.W. & Rocky Pictures
> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
> Date: Sat, 08 May 2004 18:46:28 GMT
> Subject: Re: Another Michael Scarpitti? Or Hans Beckert. Or
> LadislavLoewenstein, III. Or Konrad Veidt, II
Shut up John. Enough about your kill files. Get back on the Prozac and into
that little corner you inhabit.
Jon
> From: "J.Medlock" <jmed...@swbell.net>
> Organization: SBC http://yahoo.sbc.com
> Reply-To: "J.Medlock" <med...@nortelnetworks.com>
> Newsgroups: rec.photo.darkroom
> Date: Sat, 08 May 2004 12:37:11 GMT
> Subject: Re: Another Michael Scarpitti? Or Hans Beckert. Or
> LadislavLoewenstein, III. Or Konrad Veidt, II
And you have been following every message...