The Meaning Of ‘Until’

Neither the French nor the South Korean elections mean anything at all. Nothing will change until – well, until the person or persons who have the power to change things decide it’s time. The newly elected president of South Korea, Moon Jae-in, may not be a lunatic, but Kim Jong-un, the leader of North Korea is, or at least would like us to believe he is. The First Lady of North Korea is named Ri Sol-ju, so the peninsula has both a Moon and a Sun. Maybe the stars are aligned and we will all dance to the music of the spheres, but if not, things will continue as is until.

Nothing changes much until
It does, so obvious, but still
It’s things like this that blur the mind
To thinking that the world is kind
To those who sit and wait their turn
It’s then too late, they never learn

Candles, Flowers And Bears

Once more a Muslim kills innocent children and the authorities respond with soothing words and candlelight vigils. It is time to become anti-vigils, and if the political leadership insists on surrendering we must become vigilantes.

Scented candles, fresh cut flowers, smiling teddy bears
Mark the scenes of carnage but no politician cares
They look so grave, they say the words, the Muslims are our friends
Dead little girls, their bodies torn, are just the normal trends
Of life today and we must not let bigotry appear
For once we start to hate then surely end of times is near
And so the West is unalarmed at missiles on the pad
And mullahs, North Koreans who intend to destroy MAD
Proceed to build the weapons that will kill us all one day
While in the West the leaders in full confidence still say
That come the day the missiles fly and cities turn to ash
We shall not strike in fury, nor will use the wicked lash
We fall not to their level, we maintain our vacant stares
As we mourn among the candles and the flowers and the bears

The Meaning Of The Words

The Left has always relied on redefining the meaning of words to advance their agenda. Orwell showed how it worked. The Ministry of Propaganda became the Ministry of Truth. War became Peace and Peace became War. Political Correctness is simply the Left doing what it always does. The radical American Left realizes that to attain permanent power they must first destroy the First Amendment right to free speech, for free speech is the foundation of democracy. To that end, the Left has largely succeeded in brainwashing an entire generation of university students to regard free speech as hate speech, where  “white privilege” is a dirty word, and a campus “safe space” means no whites allowed, to name but a few. And now they are well on the way to changing the meaning of the words “incite violence”. When the paid campus rioters keep a conservative speaker from speaking, the reason given is that the conservative speaker will incite violence. Note that it is the Leftist rioters who are inciting the violence, but when the media repeat the reason given by the university administrators for denying free speech, it reinforces the Leftist claim that it is the conservative speaker who is inciting the violence. Words matter, and the Left knows it. And once enough words have changed their meanings the very nature of the country will be changed, democracy will be lost, and all without firing a shot or the majority of the people knowing it. (Cue the BeeGees.)

Words, those alphabetic words
Whose meanings seemed so dear to me
Are now, in flux upon the wind
And somehow now not clear to me
The words that once had guaranteed
The freedom and the leanings of
The left, the center and the right
The Left has changed the meanings of
And now, we face the darkened time
Progressivism has in store
For those who think speech should be free
And not to run us on the shore
To perish at the will of those
Who say that slavery makes you free
Just words, those alphabetic words
Whose meanings are so dear to me
Where rocks and smashing waves will stay
The hand of those who fight
And night descends
Upon the once great land
So bright in freedom’s light
Where night descends
Upon this once great land
So bright in freedom’s light

Rise Now, Men Of The West

Little girls. At a concert. Blown apart. Hair and skin and body parts. Rejoicing in the mosques. Little girls.

A rage so dark it blots the sun
A rage so dark it takes a gun
To quench the blood lust every one
Has for the Muslim scum
A bullet dipped in bacon fat
Back of the head and that is that
In flaming hell is where he’s at
And many more to come
We look to rage filled Christian men
To seek out Muslims in their den
And see the Earth is clean again
By killing all, not some
Little girls, a blood lust rage
Lock all Muslims in a cage
Write their names on every page
Then count the slaughtered sum

The Orient Express

North Korea accuses the CIA of trying to assassinate Kim Jung Un. Maybe so, maybe not. It is just a hop and a skip from the Imperial Palace to downtown Pyongyang, a journey the Dear Leader takes every morning in his sumptuous private railway car. The one car Orient Express, sitting on a siding, steam up, departs at 8 on the dot, and knowing this, the CIA is carefully laying plans to arrange for a nasty accident. I spoke with a CIA covert operative recently, and he said:

Dear Leader takes the train to town
Each morning prompt at eight
Our satellites are looking down
Determining his fate
We’ve paid the porter twenty bucks
To lace his morning tea
We had a whole row full of ducks
But it was not to be
A gandy dancer on the line
Was paid to loosen rails
The rails were loose and all looked fine
But sometimes it all fails
We’re sorry that our brave brainwashed
Dumb agents were detained
And so our accident was quashed
And Dear Leader entrained
Just plain bad luck is what we say
We’re limited in scope
We need to stay out of the way
But we don’t give up hope
We think he’ll hit a girder on
His trip to town, I guess
An accident, not murder on
The Orient Express

The Burning

Western style Communism is an ideology, a religion, and understandable as such. Asian communism is not an ideology, but a route to power and a means to maintain power, and therefore understandable in terms familiar to all for all of history. There is no point in using the term Communist China, because it does not describe their interests and policy, which are indistinguishable from the interests and policy of a Westphalian State. The Soviets were intent on bringing the entire world under the Church of Socialism, with Moscow the Vatican. China has no such ambitions, and therefore can be persuaded to act in ways the Soviets would never have contemplated. To China, Pyongyang is a client, not a parishioner, and as such the Trump administration has a good chance of persuading China to burn Pyongyang.

The difference in the burning is as clear as night and day
The Soviets would burn you but in an auto-da fe
The Chinese on the other hand will smile and say goodbye
As into the big wok you go, an unwilling stir fry
To China the Kim family has been like Kardashian girls
There comes a time to dump them when the controversy swirls
For big guys soon lose patience with the antics and the swoons
When Kim girls get inflated and they speak of ancient runes
That say that they’re queens of heaven and the rulers of the blind
And they have nukes to prove it and will show to the unkind
That quaking, screams and shaking are sweet music to their ears
At which point the Twitter chatters as the big guy’s ire rears
And the Chinese see the bitter dregs at bottom of the cup
And the dancing stops in Pyongyang as they see the jig is up
As the Chinese pile the faggots into mountains to their knees
And the Ronsons and the Bics now made in China light with ease

The Cloak Of Myth

The myth of male oppression, the myth of despotic colonialism and the rape of the third world, the myth of white privilege that accounts for the overwhelming majority of Nobel winners in science being white, the myth of the moral superiority of the Left. All these myths cloak the agenda of the Left, which is the destruction of the American experiment in democracy and its replacement with a permanent leftist governing class.

The European Union with its leftist bureaucrats
That never seek election and are chosen for their charm
In smiling to the rabble whom they view as dogs and cats
Who smell of working on a dung rich farm
The Left holds power in its hand as is their holden right
For they know best as betters always do
They make the laws that fatten them and party every night
And thankful that they’re them and they’re not you

Thoughts On Growing Old

There is no downside to getting old, but there is no upside to being old. And so, as the end approaches, we have only thoughts of what has been and not of what is to be. We wander the empty rooms of our past contemplating the shadows.

Thoughts substantial as the shadows
Thoughts as restless as the wind
Thoughts that cannot come together
Thoughts like butterflies unpinned
Dancing manically to music
Dancing through the waving blooms
Stopping briefly to discover
There is no one in the rooms
That were once filled loud with laughter
Love and joy and flashing eyes
But are silent now and shadowed
Dimly lit by the sunrise
Stealing in the sleepless bedroom
To announce another day
Filled with loneliness and sorrow
That seems not to go away
Thoughts of life at the beginning
Thoughts of years flown like the wind
Thoughts that cannot come together
Dancing butterflies unpinned

A Good First Step

President trump removed a deeply politically compromised Director of the FBI, Jim Comey, and the Left reacted as if Trump had said something derogatory about Josef Stalin. They went bat fecal matter crazy, anointing Comey the latest martyr in Trump’s war against civilization, notwithstanding that the day before the firing the Left considered Comey a piece of vermin and calling for his removal from office and instant immolation. But we expect nothing else from the Democrats. They will do anything and say anything in their attempt to remove a lawfully and fairly elected president they have a completely irrational hatred for from office. They will oppose every nomination, every action and every attempt by Trump to govern, but the firing of Jim Comey was a good first step. And thanks to Harry Reid, President Trump only needs 51 votes to drain the swamp.

If sixty votes you cannot muster
Thank Reid for no more filibuster
If leftist workers can’t be fired
Make sure that they are never hired
Since building big is what you do
Build a big ark and two by two
Show lefty Dems to the gangplanks
And get a grateful nation’s thanks
Get tough and whip your guys in line
Pay no attention when they whine
Talk the talk and talk it straight
Don’t listen to the fourth estate
Full speed ahead, let’s get ‘er done
Remember Austerlitz, the sun
That shines upon the bold, the strong
And carries all the rest along

Telescoping Time And The Infinite Universe

In 1608 a couple of Dutch guys, Jacob Metius and Hans Lippershey, invented the first telescope. Galileo improved it and some sixty years later Isaac Newton, as we might have expected, invented the reflecting telescope. And just recently a group of astronomers built a large array and photographed the black hole at the center of the Milky Way, discovering, to their shocked surprise, that the black hole was filled with stars. They did not explain how the light from the stars inside the black hole escaped over the event horizon, but perhaps that is why they were shocked. In my novel Almost Paradise, each galaxy in our universe has a black hole at its center, and each black hole contains a universe whose every galaxy contains a black hole at its center that contains a universe whose every galaxy contains a black hole that contains a universe, and so on, resulting in an infinite universe, all of it contained inside a notional sphere of energy the size of an electron.. Time is an illusion, but the calendar never lies, and non-illusional time grows short, so I thought I would speak of the infinite universe as I have experience it.

I do not know when first I saw a tree
But when a boy, a maple tree at hand
Became the very first tree that I climbed
So high I held the world at my command
So high, so rarefied the air, so still
I sensed that giant eagles soared nearby
I heard the whispered wind upon their wings
And saw their faces clear against the sky
They circled close and beckoned me to come
So close their wing tips softly brushed my face
I laughed as suddenly I understood
They smiled and gestured, urging me to race
I spread my arms and joined them at their play
As in the biting wind great bronze bells rang
We soared as one, in unison we climbed
While in my soul a golden angel sang
A song whose words told of a wondrous world
That lay below in dancing, shimmered light
With tiny houses anchored to the ground
All spread before me from my leafy height
Eight decades have long passed and sped away
Yet still I hear the eagles’ screaming cries
And in my mind’s eye still I see that tree
For time is telescoped but never dies
The universe is infinite in scale
What passes by our eyes is all we see
Yet what is hidden may be best of all
Like eagles and a magic maple tree