The Book of Psalms
The Glenn is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in antenna pastures; He leadeth me beside the still towers; He restoreth my battery; He leadeth me in the great circle paths of propagation for my beverage's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Hans, I will fear no evil, for Glenn art with me; Thy grounding rod and thy WOR they comfort me. Thou preparest a flea market table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with tin foil; my logbook runneth over. Surely good skip and greyline shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will DX in the house of the Glenn for ever.
A Psalm of ASAP
Truly Glenn is good and uptight to those who art easily entertained. But as for me, my ears ring, my fingers are stiff and mine ass hurteth. For I was envious of those who loggeth obscure Indonesians, when I saw the fame of their countenance in the Chronicles of Cumbre.
For they have no shame; their bodies are bound to sleep, they are not in trouble as many listloggers are; they are pricken as other DXers. Therefore a large QSL collection is their necklace; letterhead verifications cover them as a garment. Their eyes swell when the mailman comes; their hearts overflow with exaggerated self-esteem, they scoff and speak with malice of those who malign them in the Chronicles of Cumbre, loftily they threaten oppression, lest a new election be held next week, and their tongue struts through the pages of Passport.
Therefore lesser DXers turn and praise them; and find no fault with their logs. And they say, "How can Glenn know?" "Is there nothing that Glenn, Most High knoweth not?" Behold, these are the wicked DXers, always in a stupor, they increase in bitches. All in vain, I have kept my logbook clean and washed my hands with Handi-Wipes after each trip to the Annex. For all the day long, I have held it as long as possible and chastised myself every morning for waiting too long.
If I had said, "I will speak to Glenn," I would have been untrue to the generation of thy bogus logs. But when I thought I understood this, it seemed to me to be a pretty pointless task, until I went to the Apostolic DXpedition Cabin, then I perceived what it beith all about. Truly, thou hast set it in a slipppery place, as I nearly busteth mine ass on a patch of ice; thou didst make me fall upon mine keester. How I was afflicted in a moment of slipperage, swept away under antenna droopage! They are like a nightmare of missing Tristan da Cunha, on awakening you despise those who were awake.
When my chili was embittered, when I was a prick at heart, I was stupid and ignorant, I was like a beast toward Glenn. Nevertheless I am continually with Glenn, thou dose guide my right hand in my logbook. Glenn dost guide me with His World of Radio, and afterward, He will receive me with His glory, and I shall live in the House of Enid, till Gloria gets there. Whom in Enid have I but Glenn? Yea I know of no one else in Enid, for it lyeth in the Panhandle, far from the Land of the Lower Peninsula. And there is nothing upon earth that I desire besides Glenn, with the possible exception of a moment alone with Sandra Bullock or Katerina Witt. The ink in my pen may fail, but Glenn is the refill of my instrument and my propane supply for ever.
For lo, those who are far from Glenn shall perish; thou dost put an end to those who bitcheth about thee by blocking them from thine web site. But for me, it is good to be near Glenn; I have made the Lord Glenn my Head Dude, that I may tell all of thy works, especially to they who bitcheth the most.
The Other Psalm 73
Truly Glenn is good to those who eschew Passport to those who have pure loggings. But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled my steps had well neigh slipped. For I was envious of the arrogant, when I saw the impressiveness of their list-logs.
For they have no nights of bad openings, their logs are impressive and thick. They do not lack loggings as other DXers do and their antennas do not droop. Therefore headphones are their necklace and QSLs cover them as a garment. Their mailboxes swell out with fatness. Their logs overflow with Indos. They scoff and speak with malice loftily. They scoff at 'club members'. They set their mouths against the Glenn and their tongue struts through DXing with CUMBRE.
Therefore the people turn and priase them and find no fault in them. And they say "How can Glen know? Is there knowledge in the Most High other than Passport? Behold, these are the wicked never with headphones, yet they increase in loggings. All in vain I have kept my radio on and watching sunspots and propagation reports. For all the night long, I have been stricken with QRN and chastened by the early arrival of Arnold each morning.
Nevertheless, I am continually listening to WOR thou dost hold my right hand, and guidest it amongst the dial to good DX and afterward thou wilt receive my reports to DXLD.
Whom have I in Enid but thee? And there is nothing upon the bands I desire besides thee. My ears and my logs may fail, but Glen is my strength and my DX guide forever for lo, those who are far from Glenn shall be doomed to list-log. Thou does put an end to those who are false to thee, but for me it is good to be near Glenn; I have made the Lord Glenn my refuge that I may tell of all thy works.
Amazing ID! How sweet the sound
That saved a listlogger like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see.
'Twas GH that taught my ears to hear,
And GH my fears relieved;
How precious did those time pips appear
The hour I first believed.
Through many fade-outs, crackles and hets,
I have already come;
'Tis GH hath brought me safe thus far,
And GH will lead me home.
The Glenn has promised good dx to me,
His Word my hope secures;
He will my faraday shield and balun be,
As long as the prop endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And dxing life shall cease,
I shall possess, within the veil,
A logbook with no UNIDs.
The ionosphere shall soon dissolve like snow,
The sun refuse to flux;
But Glenn, who called me here below,
Shall be forever MUF.
When we have heard ten thousand WORs,
And discredited Hans Johnson,
We've no less days to sing Glenn's praise
Than when we'd first begun.