Filky filky filk

Do you know that scary feeling, when you invent something and only later get to know that it actually freaking exists?
Possibly not. But it would be reassuring if you did.

What exactly am I talking about? Hee.

I always have one or two or three 'instant fanfics' (the term was coined by kaneda and is perfect) in my head: Half-thought-out stories that, whenever I have to wait or can't fall asleep or am bored or idling, I can turn to in my head to re-tell or work on. I never write them down, because they're truly just for myself, but I love them nonetheless (or all the more). They change, and some are forgotten, and some pop up after some years' absence.
And then there are bits and pieces of stories or poetry that are no more than single lines, or single scenes.
One of those scenes, which came to life when Bush prepared for the Iraq war and I was seriously miffed with the American government, basically was a bunch of youths (because I always let others do my dirty work, muahahahah!) parodying a patriotic American song. A song that I had, for all I knew, invented myself just to parody it (see why I never write that shit down?).
Because it was just an excuse for snarkiness, it didn't have much text, only a few lines and a general rhythm and meter. The parody was more lovingly worked out. Now today conuly posted links to some patriotic songs, and one of them HAS THE EXACT SAME rhythm and meter. AND the same habit of ending each stanza with "- - America". It's called "Free America", in case you want to check it out, and it's every bit as full of hybris and shit as I could ever have hoped for.
I'm seriously confused now. Because I never knew that poem, and yet I practically abused it. Is that amusing or shocking? And what does that tell you about me?

[The parody version, in case anyone cares, went something like 'Tis time to go to battle/ and swear that you will stand/ against those who will keep us/ away from promised land./ For we shall seek unending life/ beyond the western shore./ Now! Towards immortality,/ oh mighty Númenor! Compare that to the following lines of Free America: Lift up your hearts, my heroes/ And swear with proud disdain/ The wretch that would ensnare you/ Shall spread his net in vain/ Should Europe empty all her force,/ We'd meet them in array,/ And shout huzza, huzza, huzza/ For brave America. Discuss. Well, I find that scary.]

[Maybe I should go to the US and write patriotic poetry for the government. Do they pay well?]

In other news, not totally unrelated: It's funny how filk songs you read years ago still sticks in your head. I cannot, for example, listen to this song without the Star Wars parody version playing in my head.

*walks off, singing merrily*
Master of the Force!/ Leader of the Sith!/ Definitely not a man to trifle with!/ Ruler of at least/ twenty-thousand worlds,/ isn't he a hit with all the boys and girls?/ Everyone you know reveres him,/ every poster has his face./ I think you need a hand, commander, 'cause he's coming to this place...

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Da das ganze auf englischsprachiger Poesie beruht, bringt eine Übersetzung irgendwie gar nix. Also gibt's keine. Nein, ich bin nicht zu faul!