Meanwhile, on that very planet,
At the moment when Uranus outran it,
Hubert and Sir Martian were jumping,
On a trampoline were their feet thumping.
For it was Bill's suggestion,
That they forge a connection,
To Uranus when it passed by,
By jumping really, really high.
But they couldn't do that,
With feet on the ground flat,
For their legs weren't that strong,
Nor were they exceptionally long.
A trampoline was the way to go,
Bill decided, and he should know,
For it was the primary means,
For Neptunian men, women, and teens,
To travel amongst the stars--
It sure beat traveling in cars--
For cars can't even get off the ground;
But with trampolines, there is no bound.
Of course, one couldn't do it alone,
One needed something extra to be thrown,
Into the air and then interstellar space,
Something that would double the pace,
At which the jumper soared,
And this could not be ignored.
The Neptunians call this something,
A "bouncer"--it had a since ring--
A "double-bouncer" to be exact,
For it was an undeniable fact,
That in order to soar extra high,
Double bouncing was key, which is why,
Bill volunteered--he'd double-bounce them--
He'd be from whom their height would stem;
How does double-bouncing work, you ask?
Well, it's a difficult and intricate task.
First, you must find a trampoline--
A feat that's not at all mean--
Then you must get on and bounce,
Gravity, it is you goal to trounce.
Repeat two times, three, or four,
High above the ground you will soar;
The double-bounce comes next--
Nothing over which to get perplexed.
All you need is a buddy, a friend,
Someone with a pair of feet to lend,
For you will need those extra feet,
To get this double-bouncing trick beat.
And what does your friend need to do?
Listen closely, I'll give you a clue:
Both pairs of feet must make contact--
Your own and your friend's to be exact--
With the trampoline surface--both at once--
For timing is key in these kinds of stunts;
You must both land at the same time,
And then twice as high will you climb.
That's a double-bounce for ya--
Just repeat the following mantra:
Two jumpers and four feet,
Landing at once can't be beat.
So Bill, as I said, was our guy,
He'd double-bounce Sir Martian and I,
For only with his help on our side,
Would we cross the inter-planetary divide.
'Quickly, quickly,' Bill urged us on,
'This window of time won't last long,
For Uranus is just passing by now,
We must reach escape velocity, and how!'
'Geez Bill,' Sir Martian did protest,
'Enough with the pressure, unless you jest.'
'It's no jest,' Bill assured, 'I'm serious,
For it'll certainly make you delirious,
If you were to miss this opportunity,
Due to not reaching escape velocity.'
Sir Martian turned to me and said,
'What's escape velocity?' turning beat red.
'Escape velocity,' I began to explain,
'Is a concept that's simple and plain;
You see, to soar through the astral sky,
It's not enough to jump extra high,
But we must jump extra fast too,
For without speed--it is true--
Gravity will pull you back down,
Before you get far, before you skip town,
So you must soar up at a fast enough rate,
Fast enough to crash through gravity's gate--
Too slow and those gates will crash you--
But soar fast enough and you'll break through:
Jump fast enough, and we'll jump high enough,
So high that, way up there, gravity isn't tough--
That is to say, high above the stratosphere,
Where gravity is weak, though it sounds queer,
But it's true: gravity gets weaker,
The higher up you go, the meeker,
Its hold you on becomes, my friend,
Which is why our speed we must extend.'
'Less talk, more jumping,' reminded Bill,
'Hubert's right but we have a goal to fulfill;
You're almost there--at escape velocity--
But to slow down now would be an atrocity!'
'How many more jumps, Bill,' I inquired,
Bill looked at his contraption, looking mired,
'Well,' he finally said, 'Judging by my readings,
3 more jumps before you pay Uranus your greetings.'
So three more jumps it was then,
For after the third jump was when,
Bill would leap onto the trampoline,
Becoming a lean, mean, double-bouncing machine.
We counted: 'One!' Sir Martian yelped first,
As his feet hit down with a burst,
(We were jumping in tandem, of course--
Double-bouncing each other: an extra energy source).
'Two!' I shouted, taking my turn,
Feeling in my legs the painful burn,
From exercising every muscle therein--
Trying to jump faster, through thick or thin.
We soared up high, and came down low;
Bill got ready to double-bounce us so,
And half a second before we landed,
He leaped onto the trampoline single handed.
'Three!' he exclaimed a bit nervously,
Landing with sir Martian and I simultaneously--
That was the double-bounce which sent us,
Sir Martian and I, into space, a real plus,
For that was exactly what we needed,
That extra oomph to which gravity conceded;
It sent us soaring way beyond escape velocity,
Especially once in space, which has no viscosity.
So there we were, Sir Martian and I,
Flying through the cosmos, the astral sky,
On our way to Uranus, still within reach:
It looked like this trip would be a peach.
But all of a sudden, to my surprise,
I saw something and rubbed my eyes,
For I wanted to be absolutely sure,
It wasn't a dust particle causing a blur,
Something in my eye, that is to say,
For I swear there was something far away,
Some entity approaching us fast,
And once I recognized it, I asked:
'Sir Martian, my eyes may deceive me,
But I swear that ahead by 30 feet plus 33,
Is our good friend Sally, is it not?
And is that a tub in which she is caught?'
Verily it was, for there was no need,
For Sir Martian to reply--no need indeed--
For Sally came into view, clear as day,
As quickly as the travels of a sun ray.
'Oh, hi Hubert!' she shouted with glee,
'Why, hello Sally,' I said on behalf of me,
'And you too, Sir Martian,' Sally continued,
'Greetings,' replied Sir Martian, not to be rude.
And as quickly as we met, we departed,
And it wasn't because anyone farted,
But because of Newton's first law,
That anyone travelling suffers this flaw:
When in the void of space,
If you're moving at some pace,
You can't just stop on a dime,
You must keep moving through spacetime.
And that's what Sally did,
As she passed through the mid--
That is, the middle, the in-between,
She passed between us, slick and clean.
'Bye Hubert,' she said while passing by,
'Bye' I said as a knee-jerk reply,
'See ya,' Sir Martian said with sorrow,
Hoping, perhaps, to see her tomorrow.
And again, into the distance,
Without any air resistance,
Sally continued on her way,
To be seen again some other day.
Same went for Sir Martian and I--
For again, Newton's 1st law did apply:
That is, unless something stops you,
Then no matter what you say or do,
You'll just keep on a-speedin',
You'll just keep on proceedin',
In the same ol' direction,
That, upon a bit of reflection,
You'll remember having traveled,
The one on which your trip unraveled,
So while Sally was Neptune-bound,
We headed for Uranus blue and round.
We streamed down to the soil below,
Like a meteor with a bright glow,
Towards the debris and the junk,
Smelling something awful like skunk.
But did we land in a junk pile?
No, we didn't! Not by a mile!
Instead, we fell through a trap door,
Which meant we fell for a bit more,
We eventually landed on a slide,
Like the one that saved Sally's hide,
Round and round and round we went,
Who knows where we'd be sent?
Well, I do--because I remember:
It's not like it was last November--
The memory's still pretty clear,
It's not like it fell out of my ear.
I remember that after the slide,
We went for another wild ride:
We flew a distance that wasn't far,
And landed in a dusty old mine car.
Then the car proceeded to move,
On some tracks like in a groove,
Down a decline we began to plummet,
Like from the top of a mountain summit,
On a roller-coaster ride were we,
And even though after falling free,
We were on an incline, climbing high,
Sir Martian couldn't help but cry.
Sally found herself plunging, meanwhile,
Plunging Several kilometers plus a mile,
Through the atmosphere of Neptune,
The ground she'd hit quite soon.
The impact was cushioned, lucky girl--
Though it still sent her head into a swirl--
For she crashed right through the trampoline,
Where Bill could still be seen.
She ripped a hole right through it,
It was destroyed and Bill knew it:
'MY TRAMPOLINE!!!' he exclaimed,
'IT'S TOTALED!!! IT'S MAIMED!!!'
Sally pulled herself to her feet,
Though she felt like she hit concrete,
And tried her best to stabilize,
And ignore the stars before her eyes.
'What did you do?!' asked Bill,
And after managing to stand still,
Sally responded with the reply:
'Uh... I'm not sure. Did I just die?'
'I wouldn't say so, young woman,
Unless I'm dead too and still loomin',
But assuming that I'm still alive,
You must be too despite your recent arrive.'
Then, all of a sudden, Neptune sneezed,
In a snot bubble, Bill was ceased,
And just by the force, Sally was thrown,
Through space and, once again, was alone.
But not for long, certainly not forever,
For it was as though Neptune was clever,
As though the sneeze was not accidental,
As though Neptune planned a way so gentle,
For Sally to reunite with her friends,
For on getting to Uranus, that depends.
Not only did Neptune get the job done,
Not only was the ride a whole lotta fun,
But its sneezy aim was impeccable,
You might even say it was delectable,
For Sally shot straight for a trap door,
And crashed right through Uranus's floor.
She went spiraling, round and round,
Downward, downward she was bound,
Just like last time, Sally was on a slide,
Against something hard, hoping not to collide.
But a collision wasn't what occurred,
What happened was worse, even absurd,
The slide ended in the middle of nowhere,
She started free falling without a care.
She screamed a piercing scream,
She hoped this was just a dream,
Or at least that she'd land,
On something cushiony ready-at-hand.
But no, she didn't, not today,
Even harder than a bale of hey,
She landed on the floor of a mine car,
Which hurt her bottom and left a scar.
At the sudden impact of her butt,
Sir Martian and I exclaimed 'What?!'
That's right, it was the same car,
The one we'd been riding in so far.
Our duo was now a trio, it would seem,
We were together again, like a team,
But we were still in trouble, of course,
Still barreling down the track with force.
'Hubert? Sir Martian?' Sally did question,
'Sally?' said Sir Martian with inflection,
'Sally, is that you?' I said in doubt,
'Is it really, really you?' is what came out?
'What? Huh?' Sally replied a bit shocked,
Still trying to resist being rocked,
'Uh, er, sure it's me, I think,'
Clearing her vision with a blink.
Well, as surprising as this was--
For us to be reunited just 'cause--
I knew this was not the time,
To catch up over a juice with lime,
We were in the midst, I thought,
of a crisis in which we were caught,
So I had to focus on the track ahead,
To make sure we didn't become dead.
'Sir Martian,' I shouted out loud,
'What?' he replied as ahead we plowed,
'Come up here and take the break--
Watch it on the curves, for goodness sake,
Or we'll fly right off the track!'
'OK' he said, picking up the slack,
But as soon as we switched places,
I noticed on both their faces,
The look of fear, of what-to-do,
For ahead of us was, it is true,
A fork in the road, a split;
Upon indecision, we could not sit.
So I made a decision: we'd go right,
As we neared the switch, with all my might,
I gave it a good wack, and it switched,
The track ahead onto which we were hitched,
'Short cut,' I announced,
The utterance onto which pounced,
Sir Martian with the following objection:
'Left Hubert!' pointing in that direction,
'Short cut...for goodness sake,'
'Big mistake, Hubert, big mistake,'
Warned Sir Martian for whatever reason--
Be it the stress or maybe the season--
But it turned out he was right,
For it gave us an awful fright,
To see the obstacle up ahead,
On the track I chose instead,
Of Sir Martian's suggestion,
Which was a totally other direction,
For ahead of us was a wall--
No way to avoid it at all--
The track ahead just ended,
No turns around which it bended,
On the breaks, Sir Martian applied,
And so I had to say he at least tried,
But the break came loose in his hand,
Which was not exactly what we had planned,
'Oh oh, big mistake, Hubert,' he pointed out,
'That I can stop us now, I seriously doubt.'
Well, there was only one thing to do,
One thing I could think of, it's true:
I had to climb out the front end,
My whole self, I had to extent,
I had to hang from the front--
It was, I admit, quite the stunt--
So that, on the wheel, I could put,
With great pressure, my left foot.
I pressed my foot, that is to say,
Against the wheel, and I did pray,
That the pressure would slow the wheel,
Though it certainly caused my heel,
To start smoking from the heat,
But the burning pain I had to beat,
For it would be a lot more pain,
If our speed continued to wane,
That is, if I couldn't stop us,
And we crashed like a speeding bus,
So the burning pain, I had to endure,
On behalf of us all, for sure.
'Hubert! Get back in, get back in!'
Sally urged gripping my skin,
Trying to pull as hard as she could,
Pulling me in as well she should.
'No, Sally, I must apply the breaks,
Otherwise we'll crash for goodness sakes,'
I insisted with stubborn conviction,
Our bone crushing demise being my prediction.
'No, Hubert, trust me, we won't!
Unless you stay there, but please don't!
Climb back in and we won't get hurt,
Here, let me pull you by the shirt.'
'But Sally, no,' I insisted,
But Sally, with her tug, persisted,
And I was pulled back into the car,
Just in time, the wall wasn't very far.
We slammed into the wall,
Like a bat to a baseball,
And just like last time,
When Sally stopped on a dime,
We flew right through the hole,
The mine car taking a toll,
And just like the time before,
Another spirally slide was in store.
We went round, and round, and round,
Waiting for the spiral to be unwound--
That is, go straight, or at least end,
Instead of this and that twisty, windy bend.
The slide did come to an end eventually,
And we felt it in our bellies sensually,
For once again, we were in free fall,
Hopefully, the last wild ride, once and for all.
We landed on three old dirty pillows,
They felt soft like three pussy willows,
It coulda' hurt a whole lot more,
But still, our bums were sore.
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“Everyone is always like ‘how do you feel about feminism? how do you feel about feminism?’ and it’s like maybe I don’t wanna fucking talk about feminism, maybe I just wanna be a female producer, because it’s like even being a female producer is so rare it drives people fucking crazy. It’s like my sheer existence is like a political act, I think, to a lot of people. It’s not to me.”
- Claire Boucher