The Legend of the ROF
In the mysterious land of mud and mire
There occured the discovery of the ring of fire.
But amongst the workers, their numbers mounting,
Was always the background sound of counting.
The news came down to the Agoracom forum
And set off turmoil within the quorum.
Conspiracy theories flew like wild.
Accusations left the posters riled.
one - two buckle my shoe
Maybe the directors are part of the game,
That amorphous group known only by name.
Or was there just not enough moxie
To unite the holders and defeat the proxy.
Is it the fault of Clif, Freewest, or others?
Pick just one, if you have your druthers.
They looked for a cause and someone to blame,
But the infernal counting continued the same.
three - four knock at the door
They searched far and wide to find a clue,
That would lead to the question's diligence due.
We can not, they said, not make a move,
There is only one way, lets bring in THE HOOV.
five - six pick up sticks
Hoov came prepared, instruments at hand,
Ready to take on the hostile land.
With no assistance, a formidable feat,
He measured and entered the data complete.
He recorded the wind and gravitational pull,
Communicating once with a large moose bull.
He sat out late on damp cold nights,
Listening intently to the northern lights.
He prodded and poked and stamped his feet.
Some said for echos, some said for heat.
But the counting continued without needing rest,
And THE HOOV went on, like a man possessed.
seven - eight lay them straight
Then only by chance, some fools will say,
When stethescoping the earth that dreary day,
Eureka! Eureka! The answer is found.
I have determined the source of that damnable sound.
It is not caused by trees nor insect flights
Nor interfering with aboriginal rights.
The counting originates way down under.
It came to me like a clap of thunder.
What really counts is in the ground!
YES! WHAT COUNTS IS IN THE GROUND!
nine - ten a big fat hen
Some still say it's wind or a very deep qiake.
Others put it down to waves in the lake.
But those who toss and turn in their bed,
Because they are invested well over their head,
Can rest assured there's naught to prove,
Since thet man has spoken, that man called THE HOOV.
