IF

#1
IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!


--Rudyard Kipling
 
#3
If you can keep your wealth when all about you
Are losing theirs from paying income tax;
If you can make quite sure that no one doubts you
By selling to the networks your own “factsâ€;

If you can reap the harvest that is waiting
For those who fight both sides of one same war;
If you spend hours televised, debating
For bussing and for “welfare†for the “poorâ€;

If you can trade with Reds, and all the while
Be charging what they owe to our own banks;
If you can have us lose a war, then smile,
Because you know you’re only getting thanks;

If you can hold an office, but each minute
Be out afloat, and calmly goin’ fishin’,
The United Kingdom is yours, and all that’s in it,
Because, my son, you’ll be a politician.
 
#6
writerken said:


If you can keep your Chef's hat when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself with recipies when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can cook and not be tired of cooking,
Or being pissed off, don't piss others off,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can drink--and not make drinking your master,
If you can eat--and not make eating your aim;
If you can meet with The Matelot and Seadog
And treat those two Moderators just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by TV comics to make a laugh for audiences,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and pick 'em up from the kitchen floor:

If you can make one heap of all your cakes
And risk them all on one turn of the oven temperture knob,
Burn them to charcoal, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your butter and eggs and flour
To combine and turn long after you are gone,
And so hold on when there is no scran left
Except the exceedingly good cakes you just created.

If you can talk with matelots and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Jossmen--nor lose the humane touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Naval Chef, my son!


Apologies to Kipling and his exceedingly good cakes! (Especially the chocolate ones).
 
#7
Always_a_Civvy said:
writerken said:


If you can keep your Chef's hat when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself with recipies when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can cook and not be tired of cooking,
Or being pissed off, don't piss others off,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can drink--and not make drinking your master,
If you can eat--and not make eating your aim;
If you can meet with The Matelot and Seadog
And treat those two Moderators just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by TV comics to make a laugh for audiences,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and pick 'em up from the kitchen floor:

If you can make one heap of all your cakes
And risk them all on one turn of the oven temperture knob,
Burn them to charcoal, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your butter and eggs and flour
To combine and turn long after you are gone,
And so hold on when there is no scran left
Except the exceedingly good cakes you just created.

If you can talk with matelots and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Jossmen--nor lose the humane touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Naval Chef, my son!


Apologies to Kipling and his exceedingly good cakes! (Especially the chocolate ones).
A tasty morsel. Great stuff.
 
#9
Always_a_Civvy said:
writerken said:
A tasty morsel. Great stuff.
I can see from your signature why your birth certificate middle name and real middle name might have differed somewhat. Did you really not realise your parents nicknamed you Smudge and it wasn't you real name? :eek: :wink:

Have you seen this piccy yet in the coppermine...
http://www.rumration.co.uk/cpgn2/coppermine/displayimage/album=5/pos=139.html
I say we should laugh every day. That sure made me laugh this morning. Lovely.
 

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