Bloomberg News reports that the Obama administration will proceed with its plan to engage Iran and deal with re-elected President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. The problem is, the mullahs and Ahmadinejad want to be engaged with the United States only so far as it serves their purpose of delaying as long as possible any action on the part of the US regarding their nuclear program. Once Iran has the bomb, of course, there will be no further need to pretend they welcome engagement with us or anyone else, except to formulate the terms of our surrender. If we’re going to get engaged to the lady, make sure it’s not a one way street, with us going the wrong way. My advice to President Obama is this:

 

 

To be engaged you need a ring

To put upon her finger

But just be sure she’s had her fling

And now she wants to linger

With you and only you my lad

And not with Mr. Putin

Or what is worse or just as bad

With someone high-falutin’

Like China’s big-time rulers now

Who seem to be so deft

And think it’s time we took a bow

And exited stage left

And just be sure she’s not a flirt

Just stringing you along

Before she throws you in the dirt

And sings a goodbye song

I see no good from this affair

No matter that she’s charming

I say to you just have a care

Some belles are quite alarming

 

 

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has been re-elected in a landslide, apparently pleasing President Obama, who claimed the vibrancy of the Iranian election battle was due to his speech in Cairo some days ago, and who now, no doubt, sees Ahmadinejad’s re-election as affirmation of his Middle East policy, a policy that seems strangely Muslim oriented. Ahmadinejad is determined that Israel cease to exist, and President Obama, in spite of Iranian threats to annihilate Israel, pressures Israel to surrender to the Iranian puppets Hamas and Hizbollah in the form of abandoning defensive settlements. The policies of the Obama administration and the re-election of Ahmadinejad leaves the Israelis no choice but to look out for themselves. The clock is ticking. Will Israel wait for Iran to get its nukes? Will Obama try to stop Iran from getting nukes and destroying Israel? Will Obama throw Israel under the bus? We shall have the answer before the summer is out.

 

 

Israelis live in daily fear

Of Gaza driven rockets

While Hamas sees the time is near

To put into their pockets

The Jewish State that stands between

The Muslims and their dream state

A world in which no Jew is seen

A world in which the Jew fate

Is death to every Jew on Earth

Regardless of resistance

By Muslims driven mad from birth

By Jewish mere existence

The Muslims see the end game come

They see its firm construction

And make the ME wires hum

With threats for the destruction

Of people who are not afraid

Of forces ‘rayed against them

They know the price that must be paid

They know how to defense them

But now they see their mentor friend

US give them a screwing

Obama sees that Israel’s end

Is something he wants doing

It’s all ‘bout oil as some would say

And surely some things puzzle him

But I think this is Obie’s way

Of being a good muzzle im

 

 

An elderly Italian woman missed Air France flight 447 when she arrived too late to board the plane. She escaped death when the plane went down into the Atlantic, killing 228 people, only to die a week later in a head-on collision with a truck on a road in Austria. Events like this raise the question, is it fate, coincidence, or the hand of God, however God is defined. I confess I have not the answer, though I don’t believe our fate is written, chiseled in everlasting stone. Nonetheless, there are times I think the ancients had it right, that there are gods living among us, gods who know our fates, gods who shape our lives. In Germanic legend the mistresses of human destiny were the Norns, three spinners; Urd, who knew the past; Verthandi, who knew the present; and Skuld, who knew the future. It is they, the Norns, who shape the destiny of men. And who shall say they do not?

 

 

Here is the babe, the women said

In silence as they crept

Into the house and to the bed

Where little Barack slept

But hours old, Verthandi sighed

What know of him, dear Urd?

The past is blank, though I have tried

Of him there is no word

No past? said Skuld, how can that be?

Perhaps, dear Urd, you’ve missed

The lad’s now hidden history

For surely there’s a list

There is no list, no proof of birth

His presence unremarked

The lad has simply come to earth

We know not where embarked

But ‘tis the future of the lad

With which we must engage

His future now, if good or bad

Dear Skuld, please fill the page

I shall, dear Urd, and you will hear

Him promising much change

I see him bringing hope and fear

And what is passing strange

I see a country bending low

Accepting every whim

I see a people crying so

And all because of him

I see that freedom’s lost its way

And men do quake in fright

In hearing what this lad doth say

So say the fates tonight

Is there no hope, can naught be done?

It’s written now in stone?

Ah no, said Skuld, they’re saved from One

By Ronald Reagan’s clone

 

 

We have all been assured that the older we get the wiser we get, but I’m not so sure. The only thing of which I am completely certain is that the days go slow but the years go fast. And not just fast, but a whirlwind of flashing scenes and faces when looking back down the dark rimmed corridor of time. Wasn’t it only yesterday I asked that pretty little girl to the prom? Why do I remember my first pair of roller skates? My first bike? How is it I remember the names and faces of everyone in my eighth grade class? I think I know the answers. It’s because memory works in fast years, so they didn’t happen all that long ago. When counted in slow days they happened sometime around the Permian, but that’s in slow days. In memory it all happened yesterday.

 

 

The days go slow, the years go fast

And soon before you know it

We’ve watched our time on earth go past

And hope we didn’t blow it

We got things right from time to time

That hunting dog, that scope sight

We got things wrong, but that’s no crime

We always tried to do right

We try our best, but we’re just men

And when we fail we’re shattered

We pick ourselves right up again

Though bloody, bruised and battered

We’ve made decisions that we know

Were not the best we could have

We’ve done some things that go to show

How wrong we were, or should have

That’s not to say that we’re alone

In looking back in sorrow

At things for which we can’t atone

At least not ‘til tomorrow

 

 

We’re all getting a little bloody minded, and with reason. Muslim terrorists continue to kill people every day, whether a young US soldier at a recruiting station in the United States or staging a slaughter in Mumbai, India, and have just blown up a hotel in Peshawar, Pakistan, killing many innocent civilians. We hear now that the Obama administration has decided to read captured terrorist killers their Miranda rights, telling them they have a right to remain silent and that we will provide them a lawyer if they cannot afford one. Of course, Mr. Holder’s Justice Department is deeply concerned with the rights of terrorist killers. You may recall it was not so many years ago that Mr. Holder released many Puerto Rican terrorists in order to gain votes for Hillary Clinton’s run for the Senate from New York, so Mr. Holder’s views on terrorism are well known. Still, there is a way to get the job done properly while still reading the killers their Miranda rights. These terrorists are not afraid of death, they willingly and happily blow themselves up, believing they will be instantly in Paradise with 72 beautiful virgins, but there is one thing that terrifies them, and that is to be buried wrapped in a pig skin, for that would send them straight to hell. I propose, therefore, that we read them not their Miranda rights, but their Oscar Mayer rights. Wrap them in bacon, shoot them, and then read them their Miranda rights.

 

 

The Justice Department is quakin’

In fear that our soldiers be takin’

It into their head

To fill them with lead

Before their Mirandas be makin’

 

I like the idea of bacon

The thought has the jihadists shakin’

Let’s not wait till they’re dead

Grab the bastards instead

Shove the stuff up their ass while they’re wakin’

 

While a plea for his life he is makin’

Just grin with a little head shakin’

Then a shot to his head

Put the bastard to bed

And another in case he is fakin’

 

Mr. Holder says steps will be takin’

To prevent such a vile undertakin’

But our guys know that they

Are the ones who will pay

For the folly that Justice is makin’

 

 

 

It was announced Tuesday that Chrysler is out of bankruptcy. The deal, as dictated by the Obama administration, calls for the Italian carmaker Fiat to own 35% of Chrysler, the United Auto Workers union 55%, and the US and Canadian governments 10%. Is the forced deal constitutional? No. Does it matter? No. I have never seen, nor did I ever expect to see, a president of the United States so openly and brazenly throw aside the law in order to reward his UAW friends, both with Chrysler and General Motors. Bankruptcy law is settled law, the law of the land, but that did not deter the Obama administration from telling the first creditors, the Chrysler bond holders, that contrary to law the UAW union would get first dibs and the bond holders would take what the president said they would take, which was 29 cents on the dollar. When the bond holders complained they were threatened, so they took it, figuring if they didn’t they would get nothing. Can you imagine the screams of outrage and calls for impeachment had George W. Bush done that? Yet the media is silent, complicit in the unlawful actions of the one they adore.

 

The UAW put up no money but got 55% of the new Chrysler/Fiat corporation by agreeing to pick up the legacy benefits and health care costs of the workers. Fiat got 45% of the new Chrysler/Fiat corporation by agreeing to give Chrysler its technology in small cars and small engines, a combination the American buying public has consistently said it does not want and will not buy. Fiat has an even lower score in customer satisfaction than Chrysler. Has anyone on this side of the Atlantic ever bought a Fiat? So after the forced Obama Chrysler bankruptcy, the two principal owners of the new Chrysler put up not one red cent for 90% of the company, and the American taxpayer, who put up billions in loans and outright gifts, gets to share the remaining 10% with Canada. Now we know why President Obama is always smiling; it’s two down and Ford to go. All of which raises the question: Is what Obama has done to General Motors and Chrysler, and what he has done to the economy by putting the country in debt to the tune of trillions of dollars a year into the foreseeable future, incompetence or design?  

 

 

Walter Chrysler built his cars

With care and keen attention

To see that style and detail mars

Got hardly any mention

Until that is the union halls

Took over car production

With worker rights and work rule calls

And quality reduction

But times were fat so no one cared

That wages were a-soaring

And no one in his right mind dared

To think of underscoring

The risks of competition from

The Japanese and Germans

Get beat? they smiled, they’re just too dumb

Those Takeos and Hermans

Now Walter Chrysler is no more

No more is General Motors

The president chalked up the score

And charged it to the voters

Then put in charge one of his czars

A man who said he doesn’t

Know a thing ‘bout building cars

But criticize we mustn’t

We have to ask, what does this mean

Why all this rearranging

The socialists are on the scene

Our country they are changing

It’s ave atque vale tears

It’s hello and goodbye

To all we knew, now still your fears

We have in charge a guy

Who takes us down that frightful path

To ruin and decay

Just look at it, just do the math

We’re soon at judgment day

Hail and farewell to all we knew

They work while we all dally

Ring out the old, ring in the new

It’s ave atque vale

 

 

President Obama has outlined his strategy for gracefully ending the black mood of depression his presidency has plunged the country into without admitting he had anything to do with it. “It’s like we do in Chicago,” Rahm Emanuel said. “Money cures everything, and it will cure this. When things look darkest, that is when we in Chicago shine, for in the dark is when we are most graceful. The President has informed the Treasury that the printing presses will melt if need be, for he is determined to see everyone in this country has an organically grown chicken in every pot and a plug-in hybrid car in every garage.” Press Secretary Robert Gibbs, at an informal press conference with several radical Muslim groups, laughed at the suggestion that the United States was abandoning its principles. “This Administration,” Mr. Gibbs quipped, “will never abandon its principals. Get it?  Principals. With an “a”. Or its teachers, either. What’s with you guys? I know you’re laughing, I can see your beards move.”

 

But it isn’t funny. The money spent so far is so mind bogglingly staggering, that I wonder if there was ever any real money involved at all. A thousand years ago the Chinese invented paper money. The notes were actually printed on silk, but the effect was the same. Money was no longer something valuable in itself, like a gold or silver coin, but a promissory note that said when presented to the proper authority it would be redeemed for the value stated on its face. The Chinese had invented the illusion of money, and nothing’s been the same since.

 

 

It isn’t paranoid to say

That what we see’s disturbing

When markets start to act this way

It means something’s perturbing

The way free markets operate

When all is hokey dokey

But when the pols don’t play it straight

They should be in the pokey

They’re not, of course, and I should state

The tycoon money lenders

And others who facilitate

The Congress’s big spenders

Should join the crooks in durance vile

Their names be changed to numbers

But that will only happen while

We’re dreaming in our slumbers

The Congress votes a pork fed bill

Without a thought or worry

Most people didn’t care, but still

Some wondered what’s the hurry

I think the Congress knew full well

That what they did was harmful

They gave to friends, but what the hell

Who took it by the armful

But here’s the problem, if we look

It really wasn’t euros

But just some numbers in a book

A-sitting in some bureaus

Until somewhere someplace some time

Someone needs some Jacksons

And writes a check or drops a dime

And initiates some actions

And somewhere a computer coughs

And numbers change direction

And offs are ons and ons are offs

In infinite collection

The point is no one ever sees

The actual pound or dollar

They might as well be wind in trees

A-blowing down a holler

There never was no dough to keep

It’s all a sham and mirrors

For some of us are just the sheep

While others are the shearers

 

 

In his speech in Cairo the other day, President Obama proudly proclaimed the Muslims invented the compass, printing, algebra, and the university. None of this is true. Europeans invented the university, the Chinese invented printing and the magnetic compass, and the Hindus of northern India invented algebra and the system of mathematics we use today, including the so-called Arabic numbers. Why do we call them Arabic numbers? Because when the Arabs conquered northern India they brought the mathematical systems invented by the Hindus back home with them. So I guess that’s something. They at least recognized the Hindu math was better than what they were using. What other wonders did this marvelous civilization invent? Why, according to the American left, just about everything.

 

Wilbur and Orville, two Bedouin chaps

Believed that if Allah so willed

They could make a machine that would fly them, perhaps

Though they knew there’s a chance they’d be killed

No matter the risk, no matter the peril

For Allah they’d do what it took

They flew a straight line, they flew in a curl

Then told all the world in a book

In Cairo a smart man, al-Bert was his name

Said gravity bends passing light

Then took off for Princeton and cashed in his fame

When Allah proved that he was right

A young man named Henry, while dining as planned

In the town of as-Sembly on kine

Threw a bone to a dog, drawing marks in the sand

And created the as-Sembly line

And thus so it went, and thus so it goes

That Muslims created it all

From fire to atoms, from heads to our toes

We owe it to them to recall

That without the great Arab advances to date

The world would indeed be so poor

That we’d witness the famine and terrible state

Of the masses lay crushed at our door

All hail to the Arabs, those masters of art

And science and math and the lot

Who sit in the sand by their fire and fart

Eating goat from the communal pot

 

 

D-Day, the sixth of June, has passed quietly in the West. Too quietly. We tend not to notice these ancient reminders of past glories these days. Our attention is fixed not on survival, but on other, more important, things. The men who went ashore that day, onto a hostile beach, onto a hostile continent, are far removed from us in time and space, for they knew who they were, they knew what they were fighting for, and more importantly, they knew what they were fighting for was important. Not so today, when far too many of us here in the West believe nothing is worth fighting for, that there is no difference between us and the people who are trying to kill us, no difference between people who kill little girls and cut off heads before the camera and a society that poured water up the noses of three terrorists in order to forestall further attack. We have lost our way, lost our nerve, lost our souls, and before long we will have lost our country.

 

 

The Western world is dead and gone

And with it any sense

Of waking to a peaceful dawn

Of striking warlike tents

The Taliban, those bearded men

So brave when beating girls

Have dazzled our fair left again

Who love their glistening curls

The North Koreans built their bomb

Without a word from us

We greeted it with rare aplomb

And counted it a plus

That Mr. Kim agreed to take

More money and more oil

When he agreed no nukes to make

 And wrapped us in his coil

Iran will shortly have the means

To kill six million Jews

While we put out behind the scenes

That really isn’t news

Where once men fought for home and hearth

Now men fight not at all

For cultures that have lost their worth

Where duty does not call

Where have they gone, our men of steel?

Who saw things rearranged?

It isn’t they who seem unreal

It’s only us who’ve changed

 

 

On June sixth, the anniversary of the D-Day landings, Gordon Brown, Prime Minister of Great Britain, gave a speech during the ceremonies at Omaha Beach, scene of great courage and carnage that fateful day in 1944, and called it Obama beach. There are those who believe the reference to be a slip of the tongue, easily made. There is, after all, little difference between Omaha and Obama. And to the mind of Gordon Brown, there is little difference between what was accomplished that day in 1944 and what the anointed one has accomplished sixty-five years later. Gordon Brown is a believer in the magic of Barack Obama, and what better way to acknowledge that magic than to re-name this hallowed beach in memory of the greatest president the United States has ever had or ever will have.

 

 

To those who think ‘twas but a gaffe

I bid you think again, sir

Brown did not do it for a laugh

He did it for the men, sir

Who came ashore that fateful morn

And stumbled up the shingle

And raced across the bullet torn

Cruel beach, their nerves a-tingle

With just one thought upon their minds

To do this for Obama

A man they knew had future binds

To cure their country’s trauma

Of self-inflicted anomie

Beset with doubt and worry

So with a smart economy

They ran as in a hurry

To hasten and prepare the way

For the one blessed by the gods

Who’d take the reins on one fair day

Despite tremendous odds

And lead us all to heaven’s gate

The land of milk and honey

Of course we’ll have a while to wait

‘Cause he’s spent all of our money