The Young And The Old

I tell my grandchildren the world is now a different place than it was when I was their age, but I don’t think they believe me, as I didn’t believe my grandfather when he told me the world was a different place than it was when he was my age. And that’s because it isn’t the world that’s different, it’s the perception of the speaker that the world is different just because it doesn’t fit his memories. The sky is not falling on everyone, only on those who have reached the point where suicide is an option. Rome did not fall, Rome was pushed over the edge because the citizens of Rome were no longer a homogeneous ethnicity, and the new citizens of Rome, having no long term ties to the city, did not think it worth defending. And yet Rome lived in memory for three hundred years after it ceased in reality to exist. And so shall the United States live in memory for hundreds of years after the current inhabitants, those who came for the free lunch, those who trade votes for iPhones, have shrugged their shoulders and watched the country decay around them and because of them. The culture and the country built by the settlers who came here for freedom and opportunity have left behind them generations of women who decided they would rather have fun living off their inheritance than have babies. And so the European stock that built this country is declining in numbers every year while the outlanders, the occupiers, multiply. It will end with ever diminishing first world white enclaves surrounded by the invading third world, where the children of those who inherit the country will go to schools where English is taught as a foreign language. We have run our race and now there are others in the starting blocks. But maybe not. My grampop probably worried about my generation as I now worry about my grandkids’ generation, but kids have a way of fooling you.

My grandchildren may never see
The country as it was when free
When free men kept the torch alight
And kids slept peacefully at night
For mom and dad were always near
And little kids had naught to fear
And all were taught the golden rule
And there were never guns in school
When tyrants quaked to hear the name
All knowing free men bore the flame
But that is gone, the day is done
And we, like Rome, have had our run
But maybe not, there still is hope
That we may yet escape the rope
You never know about these kids
A downward slope is not the skids

Please feel free to share
EmailFacebookTwitterGoogle+LinkedIntumblrRedditStumbleUponPinterestDiggflattrbuffer

The Naked Ape

A couple of Finnish guys named Fry and Soderberg, with or without the umlaut, have looked at some rather dodgy data gathered from modern hunter gatherers, (are there still hunter gatherers around?) and conclude that people a hundred thousand years ago were benign pacifists. I spoke to a naked ape just the other day, and this is what he said:

“I know that people think I was a rude and naked ape
And stealing women from my neighbor’s clan
But that is so untrue that it is just a joke or jape
I tell you I was quite a peaceful man
Of course when times were difficult and berries hard to find
And hunting parties came home without meat
We kindly asked a neighbor clan if they would be so kind
To give our children something they could eat
But when we did those dirty rats all had the nerve to say
That they had just enough to feed their own
Enraging us to scream and shout that they would rue the day
And that is when we turned them all to bone
We gathered all our infantry and sappers and the like
Surrounded them declaring it was war
At the command we marched on them with lowered lance and pike
And taught the meaning of the phrase What For
But it was such a tiny show, it happened now and then
Not more than once a week or so it seemed
And now you say there’s folks who say we’re peaceful way back when
I smile at such absurdity undreamed

Please feel free to share
EmailFacebookTwitterGoogle+LinkedIntumblrRedditStumbleUponPinterestDiggflattrbuffer

Shangri-La

James Hilton wrote a best selling novel in the Thirties called The Lost Horizon, in which there was a peaceful, wonderful land called Shangri-la. In the United States today there is also the search for Shangri-la, but today’s Shangri-la has a different meaning for each half of the country. Believers in big government believe Shangri-la will be found in ever bigger government interfering in every facet of our lives, all for our betterment, and the other half believing that Shangri-la will be found in the return to small and Constitutional government as outlined by the Founders. One will eventually win, but in the meantime the real Shangri-la was the USS Hornet CV-8. On 18 April 1942 the Hornet carried sixteen B-25 Mitchell medium bombers under command of Lieutenant Colonel James Doolittle to within six hundred and fifty miles of Tokyo and launched a raid that galvanized the country. When asked by reporters where the planes took off from, President Roosevelt laughingly said, “Shangri-la.”

The stormy North Pacific skies
Had hid her well from prying eyes
She launched the bombers one by one
Who set off for the Rising Sun
The Mitchell boys, Doolittle pa
Now for all time in Shangri-la

Please feel free to share
EmailFacebookTwitterGoogle+LinkedIntumblrRedditStumbleUponPinterestDiggflattrbuffer

Le Dance, Et Le Deluge

The world’s a stage and Barack Obama dances through history with a light heart and a smile upon his lips, unaware of anything but his own beauty.

An entrechat, a pirouette
A canvas flat, a stagey set
The skin clad tights, the leaps and bounds
The flaring lights, the shushing sounds
The darkened wings, the stage so smooth
The quiet strings, designed to sooth
Up on his toes, his arms raised high
The lips rouged rose, the dainty sigh
The world’s a stage, the play’s the thing
The dance the rage, the plaudits ring
The flowing gown, the dancing done
The curtain down, the setting sun

Please feel free to share
EmailFacebookTwitterGoogle+LinkedIntumblrRedditStumbleUponPinterestDiggflattrbuffer

Boo!

There are those who say Barack Obama is whistling past a graveyard when he smiles and say all is going well with Ukraine, with China, with Syria and Iran, and any number of foreign policy disasters. Barack Obama is not whistling past the graveyard, Barack Obama is IN the graveyard, crouched behind a convenient headstone, and when Putin or Assad or Kim Jung Un or other unsavory character walks past he jumps up, makes a face, and cries “BOO!” believing the world trembles at his words. I asked President Obama just the other day what his foreign policy was, and he said,

I make a face and roll my eyes and then I holler “BOO!”
And mighty tyrants tremble at my voice
I fix them with a steely stare and then cry, “I MEAN YOU!”
Thus leaving them with very little choice
Defy me and such consequences terrible to bear
Will be their lot and everlasting shame
And if they thumb their nose at me and say they do not care
There’s always little Georgie Bush to blame

Please feel free to share
EmailFacebookTwitterGoogle+LinkedIntumblrRedditStumbleUponPinterestDiggflattrbuffer

Time To Trade Him In

To those who say they don’t care how often President Obama golfs, it keeps him from getting the country into trouble. To that I say Obama has driven the United States to the edge of the cliff financially, by doubling the debt to untold trillions of dollars, militarily by reducing the military to before WW2 levels in an increasingly hostile world, and politically by reducing the authority of the United States and its president to the point where even tinpot dictators like Assad in Syria view Obama with much deserved contempt. I say we have an incompetent president, we might as well go out and hire a competent golfer.

If we hafta have a golfer for a president, I say
Then why not get a good one for the job
I’d rather have a Palmer or a Nicklaus any day
Or maybe someone from the Jersey Mob
At least the mob guys only steal our money and our wives
Our freedom’s safe as ever in their hands
They’d be content to take the dough and stay out of our lives
As president we’d all know where he stands
The current White House occupant’s a shadow on the wall
A pivot here, a divot there, a smirk
I’d rather have Dick Nixon back, his tapes and warts and all
And Kissinger looks like he needs the work

 

Please feel free to share
EmailFacebookTwitterGoogle+LinkedIntumblrRedditStumbleUponPinterestDiggflattrbuffer

Feminist Warriors

Fanatical feminists are outraged that a fanatical feminist who assaulted a peaceful student holding a Pro-Life sign was charged by the authorities with assault. And at Berkeley no less, where the Right has heretofore always been wrong. To a feminist the mere suggestion that abortion is wrong is enough to cause rage and nausea and temporary insanity, during which a feminist has every right to do bodily harm anyone who infuriates her.

These mad feminists are eerie
They believe they’re a Valkyrie
Fighting for the noble right to kill a child
Just a word will drive them potsy
Give them armbands they’re a Nazi
To say anything pro-life just drives them wild
Mention math is to belittle
Such their mouths are frothing spittle
And the picture of a baby leads to rage
They are full of rage and fury
They are both the judge and jury
Just ignore them all and quickly turn the page

Please feel free to share
EmailFacebookTwitterGoogle+LinkedIntumblrRedditStumbleUponPinterestDiggflattrbuffer

They’re Just Too Damned Annoying

A homosexual group has just gotten the CEO of Mozilla, Brendan Eich, fired because he didn’t agree with their view on same sex marriage, and another group has demanded three billion dollars from Google so they could establish a city in the woods for people who want to live a life free of care. It never ends. There’s a reason that, throughout history, dissidents and activists and trouble makers have been exiled, jailed or executed, and that reason had nothing to do with their being a danger to the peace of the realm, but because after a while they just become too damned annoying.

I tell you Max, the Crown Prince said
They’re underneath my skin
They claim our god is good as dead
With no such thing as sin
Before you know they’ll next demand
Three billion in hard cash
What makes them think I’ve that on hand
‘Twould empty out my stash
And yet, my Lord, good Max replied
These young folks have a point
They know they’re here for just the ride
Have sex and smoke a joint
And you should know, just yesterday
Came something you’ll not like
Some pretty boys, festive and gay
Dismissed your Mister Eich
A pox upon those festive blades
The Crown Prince cried in wrath
They doth annoy me, do these jades
Remove them from my path!
And so it is through years of time
That activists have fared
Annoying us may be no crime
And yet they should be scared

Please feel free to share
EmailFacebookTwitterGoogle+LinkedIntumblrRedditStumbleUponPinterestDiggflattrbuffer

Fire

Brendan Eich, a pioneer and software genius of Silicon Valley, was removed from his newly acquired post as CEO of Mozilla by the fascist homosexual mafia for the crime of disagreeing with them. Eich gave a thousand dollars six or seven years ago in support of a California ballot proposition that sought to make it law that marriage is a union between a man and a woman. It didn’t matter that the initiative won overwhelmingly, the fascist queers took it to a circuit court judge who, by coincidence, happened to be a flaming homosexual, and who singlehandedly overturned the will of the people of California. This is what happens when an aggrieved group finds itself accepted in polite society. Homosexuals are not grateful they no longer have to hide in the closet for fear of losing their job, they are now so powerful that they can remove from his job anyone who disagrees with them. This is not the first time an aggrieved group has thrown its weight around, and people remember, doing nothing until the problem becomes too large to stuff down the memory hole, and then the put upon majority stomps on them. Groups like the fascist homosexual mafia should realize that playing with fire goes both ways, and while they are on top now, the climate can change in a heartbeat, and they will find themselves wishing for the good old days when all they had to fear was losing a job.

The flame cares not for what it burns
Nor cares for what it takes
Into its arms by twists and turns
And hastens to the stakes
The heretic, the anti- gay
The flame cares not a whit
For he who fans the flame today
Tomorrow will be lit
So dance around the flames, my friends
And laugh at burning flesh
But know the burning always ends
In dark graves newly fresh

Please feel free to share
EmailFacebookTwitterGoogle+LinkedIntumblrRedditStumbleUponPinterestDiggflattrbuffer

Dreams Of Yesterday

The United State I grew up in is slowly disappearing, and once it’s gone it’s gone, never to return as once it was. Freedom once lost is lost, and will only be recovered with the shedding of blood. Those of us of a certain age look back in sorrow at what has happened and is happening to our country. The left and the Democrats, in their determined quest for a permanent majority, have turned the United States into a third world country, a country whose demographics they have turned upside down, to the point where the ethnic Europeans who built this country will in a measurable time become minority passengers in a rickety train heading for an open bridge. Have we nothing left but our dreams of yesterday?

The old folks say
The country’s gone and won’t be back
The world that we knew is but a distant dream
A world where men
Could live wherever they so pleased
And freedom was not a far off distant gleam
Where government
Was unseen figures in our lives
And working men kept the fullness of their pay
And families
Could sleep in peace with unlocked doors
Now all of it gone in dreams of yesterday

Please feel free to share
EmailFacebookTwitterGoogle+LinkedIntumblrRedditStumbleUponPinterestDiggflattrbuffer