to swing, swing, swing, when the free winds blow

Being very sleepy these days, I've been alternating between moments of amazing clarity and moments where my ability to be even remotely coherent leaves me altogether. Guess which kind of moment is more likely to happen when I'm sitting here in front of an "Update Journal" screen? Right, exactly. So I'll just take a moment to say that
James A. Wharton's book on Job
followed by
Patricia Evans' book Controlling People
and
this entire comment thread along with the articles that inspired it
makes pieces fall together with little clicks in my brain. Seriously, the clicking noises are very nearly audible.

Also, the very first poem MegaHAL ate this morning was the following:

The trial--Dannie Abse

The heads round the table disagree,
some say hang him from the gallows tree.

Some say high and some say low
to swing, swing, swing, when the free winds blow.

I wanted to be myself, no more,
so I screwed off the face that I always wore,

I pulled out the nails one by one--
I'd have given that face to anyone.

For those vile features were hardly mine;
to wear another's face is a spiritual crime.

( Why, imagine the night when I would wed )

Speaking of masked creatures, I never get tired of looking out my bedroom window and seeing a raccoon stretched out atop the neighbor's chimney.

(Pandagon link via supergee. Other links via my own mental wanderings.)