Verse-afire

President Obams, in a speech delivered during the White House Ramadan dinner honoring Muslims, declared he was all in favor of building a mosque a few feet away from the site of the attack by Muslims on the Twin Towers that killed over 3,000 Americans. The only reason the Muslims want the mosque so close to Ground Zero, as everyone, including Obama knows, is to shove a sharpened stick into the eye of the Great Satan. But then, did not Obama promise us that in any dispute between us and the Muslims he would be on the side of the Muslims?

Blameless lives and silver planes

Buildings down in fiery rains

Muslims cheering in the streets

Glorying in Muslim feats

Now a mosque they wish to build

Near the site the bodies filled

Smiling slyly as they claim

We are not the ones to blame

Gentle lefties take the hands

Of the killers whose demands

Lefty leaders bow to grant

Sneering at the people’s chant

That to build there’s a disgrace

And are told to mind their place

We have news for those who would

Build a mosque where once there stood

Buildings filled with kin and friends

Whose killers now Barack defends

Build your mosque in New York town

Don’t be surprised when it comes down

Along with all the Muslim dreck

Who think they have the right to wreck

The lives and dreams of other men

The 52s will show them when

We’ve had enough of killer’s ways

The end is coming, count the days

The left has captured the cultural institutions. Marxist professors rule the universities, teaching kids the United States is evil. They own the media, newspapers today are a wholly owned subsidiary of the Democratic Party, printing the party line as fact. Hollywood paints the United States to the world as an evil, crime ridden, racist, imperialist society.  Democrats have apologized to the Japanese for everything from winning the war to burning their cites to dropping the atomic bomb, and we seem on the verge of doing more apologizing as our Secretary of State pays a visit to Japan. The left has over the past many decades developed and perfected the narrative: the United States wantonly, deliberately, criminally and entirely unnecessarily dropped atomic bombs on a peaceful and unsuspecting Japan.

The facts do not matter it’s image that counts

The narrative sees that the country’s guilt mounts

We clap and we cheer when we see rubble bounce

We slew ‘til resistance was stilled

We started the war for the promise of gain

And suffered no loss while inflicting great pain

We dropped bombs from skies like the soft falling rain

We cared not the children we killed

We poisoned the earth with our nuclear bomb

And watched people die with the greatest aplomb

Our battlefields looked like a latter-day Somme

And we slaughtered as only we can

We built silver bombers to fly through the night

And burn down the cities while claiming to fight

In defense of freedom so we had the right

To murder a peaceful Japan

The Democrats insist that public opinion doesn’t matter, that they know what is best for us, and just because we don’t like ObamaCare now doesn’t mean we won’t come eventually to like it.  Harry Reid says we’ll love it once we know what’s in it, which seems to be the Dems’ strategy: Pass a 1,200 page bill that nobody has read and tell us we’ll love it once someone gets around to reading it. The strategy of course, is to bankrupt the country then impose Marxist rule to solve the problem they created.

There’s much to like ‘bout ‘Bamacare

Said Harry Reid with a death stare

That told us all we need to know about

The lefty scheme to get us all

Into their clutches and in thrall

So deep that no one living can get out

They’ve gone too far that’s what I think

The whole damn thing is gonna sink

The left has played its card and come up deuce

In pushing Marx right down our throats

The people with their sacred votes

Will put them all on rafts and cut them loose

The universe is not linear. Each galaxy in each universe has a black hole at its center, and that black hole encloses its own universe with billions upon billions of galaxies, each galaxy with a galactic black hole, each galactic black hole with its own universe within. And so on, for the universe is infinite, as infinite as the Clockmaker who made it. From time to time a black hole expands and swallows its galaxy, while at the same time the universe within the expanding black hole is also expanding, meaning that an expanding universe is in the process of destroying someone else’s galaxy. Over the past seventy years or more the radical left wing of the Democratic party has replicated this infinite universe, creating black holes within black holes, entitlements within entitlements, partisan enclaves within partisan enclaves, always expanding, always destroying, all in the name of ideology and power. And when it can expand no further, like all bubbles it will burst. And when it bursts we will be swallowed by the black hole, with all we and our ancestors have lived and died for, our hopes and dreams for our children swept into the maw, leaving fiery trails in the night sky like a raging borealis.

Each galaxy has at its center

A thing where if you dare to enter

You can’t get out no matter what you do

A universe has umpteen billion

Black holes that are riding pillion

And each black hole has universes too

Those universes in their turn

Have black holes as we all shall learn

Ad infinitum is the word we seek

And this is what we have today

Black holes in which we throw our pay

To be doled out to those who’re in the clique

A universe without an end

A bureaucrat ‘round every bend

The lefties run a universe gone mad

A black hole formed for every group

There’s no guard on the chicken coop

And everyone just shrugs and says too bad

That universe will end one day

For entropy will have its way

And when it’s gone we know who’ll pay the bills

Till then our socialistic state

Will carry on till it’s too late

In meantime it’s a rifle and the hills

There have been several influential essays recently arguing that the United States is ruled by a left leaning ruling class, mostly Ivy Leaguers, whose world view is completely different in many ways from the world view of ordinary Americans. Others say this argument in absurd, that America has no ruling class, and even if it did, the left is so divided among itself as to be incapable of ruling anything. It’s like the little man upon the stair. Is he there or isn’t he? I submit he is there, because we see him.

I saw a man upon the stair

A smiling face and well-coiffed hair

Bearing every lefty ware

Intent on spending cupboards bare

But then again we must be fair

They do not rule but only care

Call them lefties if you dare

But the thorns of life they bear

Heavy burdened, patience rare

Breathing noble freedom’s air

Dragging sinners from their lair

Climb aboard, you’ve paid the fare

Flag draped clothing they may wear

Constitutions they may tear

We’ve seen the man upon the stair

Though some would say he isn’t there

Congressman Charley Rangle, D-NY, is in the news again, the House Ethics committee looking into some shenanigans having to do with cheating on his taxes and other assorted stuff politicians always take for granted that they don’t have to do. Charley explained his failure to pay his taxes on his being unable to understand the tax code, which is mildly humorous, since Congressman Rangel chairs the powerful House committee that writes the tax rules for the rest of us. Charley Rangle has always, to my mind, been one of the good guys, not a hater like some of his Democrat colleagues, but more interested in the perks associated with being a powerful politician. But now the sheriff is after him, including the High Sheriff. President Obama has suggested rather forcefully that Charley resign, since he would no doubt be an impediment to the Dems keeping the House this November. In addition to the president, many of his colleagues have urged him to resign, but Charley just grins and says he hasn’t done anything wrong, and in his mind, he hasn’t. Yes, the sheriff is after him. There’s a big Wanted Dead Or Alive poster in the sheriff’s office, with Charley’s picture on it.

The sheriff moseyed up the street

Boots kicking up the sand

The Wanted poster of the cheat

Gripped firmly in his hand

He’d seen that face ride into town

And head for the saloon

A smiling face, a tiny frown

The time was just high noon

A-past the swinging doors he strode

His six-gun at his hip

A-past the horse the stranger rode

Still sweaty from the trip

He saw his quarry in the dark

A-standin’ at the bar

His voice commanded in a bark

Just stand right where you are!

I’ve come here to arrest you, sir

For cheating on your taxes

You’ll spend a goodly time in stir

Depending what the max is

The man looked up and smiled a smile

Said you know who I am?

It’s well for you I do not rile

Or you’d be in a jam

For I’m beloved Congressman

Chuck Rangle from New York

And I’m the guy who writes the plan

For guys like you who work

Must follow under pain of law

The penalties are clear

No matter how quick is your draw

You’ll serve at least a year

But none of this applies to me

Because, son, I’m your better

So you can not arrest me, see

But you can write me a letter

With that he put his shot glass down

And climbed upon his horsey

And headed north for New York town

Though he’d have to cross New Jorsey

The Washington Post has completed a two year survey and review of America’s intelligence gathering since 9/11, mostly, they claim, by simply examining public records, and aggregating the data. Or, as we simpler folk would say, connecting the dots. But all intelligence is connecting the dots, whether Military Intelligence or plain old human intelligence. But once you’ve got the dots connected, how do you keep them connected, how do you keep them from coming apart again? Enter the orb spider.

The sheer tensile strength of the orb spider’s web

Is many times greater than steel

She sits and she waits for her dinner to come

Stirring thrums in the web she will feel

Then she pounces at once with a motion so quick

That the eye cannot follow the leap

And the dot is enclosed in the orb spider’s silk

That she’ll toss on the top of the heap

Connecting the dot to the others she’s stored
All tied with her strong silken knots

She never does sleep and she never does rest

She’s kept busy connecting the dots

In less than two years President Obama has nationalized the automobile industry, the banking industry, distributed hundreds of billions of taxpayer dollars to his union constituencies, overridden the Constitutional provision of Congressional approval of Cabinet appointments by appointing more than three dozen non-confirmed czars to oversee the Executive department, plus trillion dollar stimulus bills and bailouts causing trillion dollar deficits as far as the eye can see, and has nationalized the best health care system the world has ever seen. Last year the House passed President Obama’s national security force youth bill, heeding candidate Obama’s call for a youth group of millions of volunteers, to be equipped, in the president’s words, as well as the military. From Acorn to mighty oaks. The Obama Jugend has not yet taken to the streets because Obama has yet to decide on the color green or brown for the uniforms. In any other country, and at any other time, this would be called fascism, a charismatic autocrat with a rubberstamp parliament. But the mid-terms will be here in three months, and with them the loss of Obama’s overwhelming majority, and thus his power to destroy the country. Will Obama permit this to happen? Will we see, in the next month or two, a hastily called press conference with Robert Gibbs emotionally reading an address to the people of the United States from President For Life Barack Hussein Obama? Will we see Mr. Gibbs cry with unbound joy as the Washington press corps rises as one in thunderous adulation? Will we hear the following words from Mr. Gibbs?  

My fellow Americans, I bring you tidings of greatest joy. Our beloved president, Barack Hussein Obama, has proclaimed the following words shall be read and memorized throughout the land:

With whose eyes shall we see the world

There are those who will see the world hollow

With whose mind do we see fellow man

There are those who will tempt us to follow

They will smile and attempt to arrange

Your thoughts and your life and your time

By promising comfortable change

And it won’t cost you one single dime

Oh they know how to work it so well

They know every button to push

But know that the road leads to hell

I speak of that road built by Bush

We’re now in a crisis, they’ll shout

Obama is moving too fast

Only we know what it’s all about

The One’s promises surely won’t last

Yes, that’s how they speak ill of us

But we’ll save you in spite of your fears

Just know that we’re driving the bus

And we’ll be at the wheel many years

We’re creating a new nation here

A nation we’re all proud to serve

A nation we all hold so dear

That we tingle the end of each nerve

Which is why we’ve decided on this

That elections are truly passé

Now the robe of your Caesar you’ll kiss

Though we’ll still have an election day

While you won’t vote you won’t really care

It’s the symbol that really does count

With these purple hemmed togas I wear

I’ll look swell sitting here on the mount

The New Republic has published an introspective of the Afghan war in the form or essays by nine intellectuals, and the Belmont Club has joined in the discussion. My own feeling is that the intellectuals miss the point, which is that the Afghans do not wish to be brought into the twenty-first century, nor any other century. They like things as they are, and will fight fiercely against those who try to change them. Alexander, the Moghuls, the British, the Russians, and now us, have all tried to conquer Afghanistan, all tried to pit one tribe against the other and thus gain control, all without success. We must remember that the past is here to stay, we cannot change it, we cannot erase it, we can only try to remember it.

We cannot wish the gun unfired

Reverse the call that got us mired

The past is past and by the way

The past is here and here to stay

You cannot win without the will

You cannot bid the earth be still

You cannot call the tribesmen mate

Unless you wish to share their fate

Afghanistan is of the past

An ancient world, one of the last

Where tribe and family is the law

And life is brutal, short and raw

They do not wish to be like us

Nor like the Brits nor like the Russ

Leave them be to live their lives

The Alexanders and the Clives

All failed and left without a clue

It’s time we bid them all adieu  

Is Obama driving the ship of state straight to the bottom? Read the following advance text of Obama’s speech to the nation next week and judge for yourself.

My American friends, I come to you

From Oval Office with a view

Of beautiful and unspoiled yet DC

The buildings here are simply grand

And walking slowly on the Strand

Is something that is comforting to me

But there are snakes in every room

And righty whiteys crying doom

They claim that I am trying hard to break

The country down onto its knees

For all my lefty friends to please

But I assure you everything is Jake

Of course there’s some things on the ropes

Extinguishing our changey hopes

And all the fault of madman Georgie Bush

My plan’s in place, I’ll do my best

To see this clear, I shall not rest

My vision for us needs just one more push

My staff is Marxist to the core

And so we have much more in store

With Acorn and the unions we’ll prevail

With gulf oil crisis we’ve been blessed

We’ve seen the population stressed

Our plan of course is letting BP fail

Our power needs will soon be met

By solar mirrors on the net

Providing all the energy we need

For sunshine puts a happy face

On jobless workers we replace

With foreigners who’ll soon be up to speed

And lastly friends, this you should know

That space and science we forego

And NASA’s job is now to reassure

Our Muslim friends that just because

They’re backward and with murd’rous laws

That that condition’s only just du jour

In closing friends I’ll only say

That starting now, this very day

The White House as it was will not be back

For I intend to stay a while

For many terms and so my style

Demands that I must paint the damn thing black