Monthly Archives: May 2009

The Labyrinth

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The National Archives reports a one terabyte storage disk, enough to hold a million novels, is missing, taken or lost sometime between October 2008 and January 2009. Richard Fernandez, at the Belmont Club, calls the search for it Entering The Labyrinth. Was it stolen? If so, who profits, politically or financially? If it was stolen, who would pay for the information, either politically or financially?

 

 

Knossos was a lively town

Or so the ancients say

Its splendor gained it great renown

A marvel of its day

But gods are mortal after all

And fall in love with bulls

And thus was born what we would call

A monster dressed in wools

His body man, a bull for head

Poor Minos was distraught

His wife, the goddess he had wed

Dishonor on him brought

And so was built the labyrinth

To house the half-man beast

With name inscribed upon a plinth

In letters deeply creased

Good Theseus did undertake

To slay the monster dead

But first precautions he must make

By stringing out a thread

Behind to lessen the great risk

For Minotaur lay hid

In deep recess with missing disk

A terabyte for bid

 

 

GMC

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Where to start. So much is happening. Yesterday Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu was pressured by President Obama to commit national suicide by giving Hamas the Wes Bank, the UN announced former President Clinton would be named UN ambassador to Haiti, and today General Motors announced that as part of its bankruptcy plan it would sell the profitable parts of the company to the Federal Government. The taxpayers of the United States will now be expected to kick in to keep the UAW on the job.

 

General Motors got big by acquiring other automobile companies, companies founded by guys like David Buick, Walter Olds, Louis Chevrolet and Chief Pontiac of the Ottawa nation. General Motors once built cars, lots of cars, but today General Motors is not an automobile company at all, but the largest private distributor of health care in the world. General Motors has 90,000 employees and 800,000 retirees, whose pensions and health care costs are paid by GM. Every penny of the taxpayer bailout money paid to General Motors by the Obama administration has gone not to GM, but to the UAW. The Obama administration will very soon own General Motors. The UAW already owns the Obama administration.

 

 

Now that GM means Government Made

We all feel so much better

To know best plans are being made

To add another letter

You see the guv’mint can’t exist

With acronyms a twosey

Three letters please, they do insist

And they’re not even choosy

GMA or GMZ

It really doesn’t matter

What counts is that it counts to three

That’s how they climb the ladder

You think a man with pride would take

A job with just two letters?

A laughingstock would him do make

With his G-15 betters

We need good men for jobs as large

As building cars like lemons

‘Less Barney Frank put him in charge

And then he’s building wemons

So GMC it is, your dough

Has bought it, it’s a wrap

And GMC now stands, you know

For just more Government Made Crap

 

With apologies to Thomas W. Crapper, inventor, who dreamed of immortality in the sanitary business, but the gods of immortality are sometimes cruelly playful.

 

 

Mr. Tallyman

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Pakistan is building two large plutonium reactors, thus dramatically enlarging their nuclear warhead production capacity. To what end? A nuke super-store? Who would they sell the bombs to? Saudi Arabia? The Taliban? I suspect we know the answer.

 

 

Come Mr. Tallyman, tally me banana

Is now Come Mr. Taliban let me show you this

Nice little thing we’ve got here’n Pashtunanana

For the right price we are sure you cannot miss

Think of the joy you can bring to Muslim masses

Think of the laughter the Arab street will find

Think of the tears as you kick those Yankee asses

Think of the fears you will raise in Kaffir’s mind

Don’t think of price for we know you can afford it

We know you’ve got resources out the old kazoo

Just sign your name here and then we can record it

Then after that you’ll just have to holler boo

Everyone knows that you never show no mercy

Everyone knows that you mean just what you say

One little bomb could take out all of New Jercy

Two little bombs and you own the USA

Come Mr. Taliban to Pashtunanana

Come Mr. Taliban cross my palm with gold

Come Mr. Taliban tally me banana

Soon everyone will be doing as he’s told

 

 

Making Stuff

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Have you noticed we hardly actually make anything anymore?  Oh, we make airplanes and high tech medical equipment, but we no longer make the little things people use every day, like shoes and waffle irons.  Go to Wal-Mart and check the country of origin on the boxes.  If we did, one day, want or have to start making stuff again, would anyone know how to do it?

 

 

Making stuff is all the rage

In countries far away

They work for a subsistence wage

A couple bucks a day

While here at home the folks pretend

They’re working hard but they’re

Just stacking paper end to end

To climb that corporate stair

No need to dirty up one’s hands

By working with the soil

No, building things on shifting sands

Is what we now call toil

We’ve built a nice society

Where everyone’s a king

But soon will come sobriety

‘Cause we don’t build a thing

That ordinary people want

That people really need

Who wants to work, that’s just a stunt

What’s real is wholesome greed

What’s that you say, it’s coming down?

Just watch it all collapse?

Oh well, we’ve had our time in town

The kids will pay, perhaps

 

 

Albion

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If Western Europe wishes to survive as western countries, they will have to ship their Muslim populace home.  In parts of Britain, as in Europe,  kindergardens are now majority Muslim.  In twenty years those kindergardeners will be the nation.  If Britain wishes to survive as Britain, they will have to ship their Muslims home.  If they don’t they will die.

 

 

Thou murd’rous subjects of the Queen

Thou killers massed for war and death

The world doth note the horrid scene

Thou wish the land of ‘Lisabeth

But British valor has not died

It doth but sleep yet waken still

It shall be wroth with those who’ve tried

To bend old Albion to their will

 

 

Missiles, Schmissiles

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President Obama, in addition to proposing the cancellation of the F-22 program, the only fighter now in our inventory that can fight and defeat the newest Russian fighters, fighters that Russia is busily exporting to our enemies, also proposes drastically reduced funding for the missile shield designed to protect us against rogue strikes from regimes such as North Korea and Iran.  Since Obama has already declared that terror attacks will no longer be called terror attacks, but Man Made Disasters, and The War On Terror has been renamed Overseas Contingencies, I assume North Korea and Iran are no longer considered enemies, but Friends Who Have Yet To Embrace Us.  With the missile shield down, and Iran and North Korea building nukes and missiles, we must hope that President Obama’s charm will deflect any incoming.

 

 

Regardless of the fact it’s late

I sit here contemplating fate

The news from DC sits not well

And so I take up pen to tell

How horrified I am to hear

That O has canceled what I fear

Will one day prove to be our sole

Defense against Islamist goal

Of taking our fair country down

And driving us into the ground

With missiles tipped with warheads that

Will get to us in nothing flat

Where is that famous missile shield

That Bush and Reagan had us wield

It’s gone for O said come what may

That it’s not needed.  Let us pray

 

 

Who’s Counting?

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The Inspector General of the Federal Reserve, when asked where all the trillions of dollars lent or spent by the Federal Reserve went, replied she didn’t keep track of that.  I wonder if anybody is.

 

 

Don’t you really think it’s funny

That the people with the money

Would at least know where the heck it all got sent

But when you ask about it

Then you might as well just shout it

‘Cause the only thing they know is it got spent

Spent on whom you might well wonder

Spent it well or just a blunder

They just shrug their shoulders with a winning smile

Saying please now not to worry

Things just happen in a hurry

We’ll get back to you in just a little while

If there’s one thing I am certain

It is time to pull the curtain

On the IG at the Federal Reserve

As the trillion debt is mounting

She just shrugs and says who’s counting

So I guess we always get what we deserve

 

 

Fly Over

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The White House military office recently had a photo op of a backup Air Force One flying over the Statue of Liberty at low altitude, scaring the bejesus out of New Yorkers who remember 9-11.  Mr. Caldera, the political hack put in charge of the office despite the fact the office has until Obama been manned by professional military men, has been relieved of his duties.  The photo op cost over $300,000, a not inconsiderable sum considering alternative less costly means of getting the shot.

 

 

Don’t be alarmed, the Air Force said

We won’t hit someone’s building

All we want from A to Zed

Is just a little gilding

For Air Force One, that special craft

The President must ride in

We know the mission turned out daft

That’s nothing we take pride in

We’re sorry that some people took

Our flying low for terror

And while we did this by the book

We will admit the error

The man in charge has been dismissed

Thank goodness he’s not Air Force

And while it’s good that he’s been dissed

We’ve straightened on a fair course

So in the future when we need

That Air Force One go hopping

We’ll get our pictures but we’ll heed

That stuff called photoshopping

 

 

Benedict Arlen

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Arlen Specter, United States Senator from Pennsylvania, has recently left the Republican Party and joined the Democrats, because, he said, it was increasingly clear he would not win the Republican primary in 2010, and he so much wanted to remain a United States Senator.  Benedict Arlen, as some have taken to calling him, will find he has traded his name for a mess of pottage, as he will not win the Democratic primary either.  His apostasy was all for nothing.

 

 

He is a man of principle

His word his every bond

He thought he was invincible

He had a magic wand

That caused his warm adherents

To pull the lever down

With no Dem interference

He owned his Philly town

Of course there were some questions

‘Bout loyalty and such

And even some suggestions

That he displayed too much

Affection for the party

Of lefties, gays and greens

And every one whose hearty

Grin betrayed behind the scenes

A hunger for the power

To make us unto them

To make us all to cower

In fear of every Dem

So now he’s joined the other

Who cheered at his left face

But did not call him brother

Nor gave him honored place

I leave you with this thesis

That coupled with his name

The thirty silver pieces

Forever share his shame

 

 

 

 

 

Mommy! Mommy!

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The Mommy State is with us, as evidenced by the overwhelming number of women who voted for Barack Obama, as well as for the general state of the culture that is becoming more and more like France every day.  Women are different from men, in that their first thought is the protection and maintenance of their children.  Where once a woman depended on a man for these services, she now depends on the State, and so will continue to vote for those who agree to provide for them.  Men are no longer needed.  The State is now husband and master.  But can it last?

 

 

We find us posed with quite a daunting thesis

An argument with which I must agree

When Mommy State implodes who gets the pieces

Is something I at present cannot see

In eighteen one a Brit named Alex Tyler

Proclaimed democracies not long to run

He didn’t say it just to be a riler

He said that in the best case, number one

Democracies last only ‘til the voters

Find out their votes breed governmental doles

He didn’t know that once invented motors

That women could be driven to the polls

They voted in the guys who’d give them power

They’re voting for them to this very day

They disengaged the cradle from the bower

And now we find we’ll soon have hell to pay

The Mommy State has fastened on our culture

But surely it has finally run its course

That shadow overhead is from a vulture

Just waiting for some unforgiving force

To put a noisy end to all this posing

To see such nonsense put at last to bed

I see this lefty chapter quickly closing

If lucky we shall not have many dead

The Mommy State will last until some tragic

Event now clearly seen as tipping point

Will clean the slate again as if by magic

And once again the men will run the joint