Monthly Archives: October 2009

Hooray For Hollywood

Hollywood is not what it used to be. Yes, the immigrant guys who made the movies back when were left wing liberals, but they loved the United States and put their politics aside when making movies. Today the guys who make movies wear their distaste for the United States on their sleeves, continually making movies debasing the country and tearing down the culture. Those movies play to the radical left, but not to ordinary Americans, who stay away from today’s movies in droves. And the lefty directors and writers sneer at us, the lumpen proletariat, for not being intelligent enough or sophisticated enough to appreciate their art. And so, with the movie industry collapsing around them, the left goes merrily on its way, believing in their hearts that America is a vile and murderous country and it is their job to expose the truth, no matter how painful it may be to hear it. Hooray For Hollywood was written by Richard Whiting and Johnny Mercer for the 1937 movie Hollywood Hotel. Nobody is singing Hooray for Hollywood now.

  

 

Hooray for Hollywood

Just goes to show the damage folly could

Do to a magic image enterprise

No surprise

Watch them just disintegrate before our eyes

Hooray for Hollywood

Where each and every single dolly would

Command a ransom just for showing up

And throwing up

A double barreled stinker that was blowing up

The studio execs

They’re stunned and don’t know what is coming next

Is it the end for all their magic dreams

So it seems

Taking alka-seltzer ‘cause they’re so darned vexed

Hooray for Hollywood

We surely have to say by golly should

We be concerned that they might go away

Let us pray

That they see their lefty movies do not pay

Hooray for Hollywood

 

 

Gloom And Doom

If the purveyors of economic and international gloom and doom are correct, and I see no reason to believe they are not, then we are in for a difficult time in the next ten years. But we’ll come out of it, we always do, and it may be the silver lining to all this will be Polywell fusion to solve both the energy and the Middle East problem, and the economic turmoil that turns the political landscape of the United States away from the liberal progressive Robin Hood mindset that holds that robbing Peter, (you and me), to pay Paul, (favored constituencies), will be at an end. The Great Depression brought in the New Deal, so perhaps this one will bring back the Old Deal of a country run on conservative and constitutional principles.   

 

 

O Gloom, O Doom

What do they have in common

They both have lots of Os, when one’s too much

And O, we know

Means economic bombin’

For our Big O is hitless in the clutch

The fan, the man

The excrement together

All form a nasty stew of bleakest broth

As now, we bow

Our heads into the weather

And hope the storm blows out in gentle froth

The buck, with luck

Will hold itself upright till

A new administration takes the wheel

And sets, and gets

It’s sights upon that high hill

That signifies the end of the New Deal

Bad times, tough climbs

Ahead are what we’re in for

The only thing about it that is good

Is that, now flat

The Dems and all they’ve been for

Are dead and gone and so is Robin Hood

 

 

Zero Nukes + Obama = Armageddon

President Obama was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for, as the Norwegians explained, his professed desire to rid the world of nuclear weapons. To that end Secretary of State Hillary Clinton has triumphantly announced the Russians have been given permission to inspect our nuclear arsenal, the better to one day soon disarm the United States. To this point there is no indication that the Russians have said we could inspect theirs, and there probably won’t be, but that is unimportant to the Obama administration, believing, as they do, that a disarmed, submissive and penitent United States is the best hope for peace. President Obama apparently also believes that the North Koreans, the Iranians, the Pakistanis, the Indians, the Israelis and everyone who either already has nukes or who will nuke up in response to American disarmament will also disarm or abandon the quest for nukes. Of course they will do nothing of the kind, but rather the reverse will take place; instead of everyone disarming, everyone who currently resides under the American nuclear umbrella will scramble to nuke up, fearing to be the only kid on the block without a weapon. Given human nature, this will be an unstable situation, with nuclear Armageddon a given, and, if President Obama has his way, the United States the only kid on the block unable to defend himself.

 

 

The concept of the zero goes a long ways back in time

A thousand years and more or so they state

When Hindoo mathematicians figured out the paradigm

That nothing was a number just like eight

Since that time we’ve had a few advances ‘long the way

And Roman numbers simply bit the dust

We don’t use C for hundred like that anymore today

‘Cause zeros made the old systems a bust

But zeros had their problems too as Jap pilots soon found

They had no armor or self sealing tanks

A couple fifty cals and they were headed for the ground

And grinning Navy pilots whistled thanks

A zero is a nothing just an empty circled space

A little like the brain of people who

Believe that we can opt out of the nuclear arms race

And live in peace like nuns and Buddhists do

So anyone who thinks that zero is the perfect place

To be in this cruel world of men insane

Will have to look the few and scarred survivors in the face

And say I tried a peaceful world to gain

And just because it didn’t work’s no reason not to try

We’ve proven that we’re better far than they

It’s just too bad so many of you really had to die

But did you think ‘twas zero that we’d pay?

Yes Armageddon came because our president declared

The USA was just another land

And just because our actions made the other guys all scared

It’s not our fault it’s glass where once was sand

 

 

Memories

Memories. Why are memories of scenes of childhood so filled with detail, the faces so clear, the sounds so sharp, the colors so bright? We remember our schoolmates, our first job, our first love. Are we the only ones? Does a horse have memory of being young and frisky, of mom watching as he raced over the dew fresh grass of the open field, the morning sun turning the meadow into a brilliant colt-owned fairyland? I like to think so, for memory is the basis of all life. Even a meal worn can learn, given time and opportunity. Without memory there would be no animal life, at least not as we know it, hardwired perhaps, like the insects. Does a cricket remember that summer night he heard the song of his lover for the first time? I like to think so.    

 

 

When I an architect began

Design was with a pencil

And then we wrote the specs by hand

And typed them on a stencil

Today’s designs are CAD arranged

The desktop does the specs

The only thing that hasn’t changed

Is what will happen next

In fifty years or more or less

Will people still be using

The things we think so marvelous

But then will seem amusing?

Old memories are now awoke

Like watching the sky writers

High in the sky write ads with smoke

With flimsy World War fighters

Now ads come at you every way

The mind of man can get up

They pound at you throughout the day

Without a cease or let up

I’m glad I lived just when I did

And saw so many marvels

And spent my time a carefree kid

Not knowing we were larvals

 

 

A Noxious Vapor

Roman Polanski, the celebrated movie director, has been arrested in Zurich, Switzerland, on a long outstanding warrant. It seems that after pleading guilty in an American court to having sex with a thirteen year old girl, he fled the country, and has been living in Europe these past decades, safe among his fellow artists and elites. Those artists and elites are now outraged that a man of genius should be arrested, treated like a common criminal. The elite do not believe they should be treated like the rest of us, for they are by definition better than us, and therefore the laws that apply to their inferiors do not apply to them. 

 

 

If I am equal to you

And you are equal to me

Then equal are we two

But what of number three?

Is he equal as well

Is he as good as we

Not so’s I can tell

He’s not as good as thee

Look how he holds his spoon

See how he combs his hair

He rises before noon

He lives beneath the stair

I’m all for natural law

Believe in right of kings

Red in tooth and claw

Believe in kissing rings

Equality’s a sham

A noxious vapor view

I know just who I am

Broadcast not pay for view

My genius radiates

From every pore on cue

My aura clearly states

That I’m better than you

 

 

A Roundabout Way

George Strait sings of how he misses his woman in a roundabout way. That’s how I feel about Obama and his merry crew of tax cheats, global warming hoaxers, carbon cap and traders, health care frauds, communists and race baiters. When they are gone, and the sooner the better, I will miss them in a roundabout way.

 

 

Around about the 2010 election night

The Dems will find themselves the losers in the fight

For free men’s votes

We’ll sink their boats

Yes I will miss them in a roundabout way

Around about the time the tax cheats go to jail

Around about the time the commies make their bail

I’ll sit and smile

And all the while

I’ll miss them so in such a roundabout way

Around about the time the race guys pay the price

For causing hate and hatred now that would be nice

And Barack too

We’ll see him through

Yes I will miss them in a roundabout way

 

 

Lies And Liars

Richard Fernandez at the Belmont Club has an interesting take on why liars lie, and what the price is for lying. The aging man with the still coal black hair pays a price in trying to keep his face as young as his hair; the politician must devote ever more time and energy into keeping the lie straight lest he be caught out; and even if never caught, the lie cheapens the prize the lie was told for. Used car salesmen and lawyers face great obstacles in getting people to believe them, because the public has come to associate them with telling less than the truth. Your grandmother was right: tell the truth and sleep soundly in your bed at night.

 

 

The blacker the hair the blacker the heart

The wider the smile the same

The silvery the tongue the silvery the hair

Politicos all play the game

To say that they lie is to not tell the truth

For truth is a slippery slope

Where slopes run downhill in direction of change

And up in direction of hope

It’s all in intent if intent is to lie

In which case we’ll know that it’s true

If when he is caught he will whimper and cry

And blame it all on you know who

But love them or hate them we need them because

Without them we’d know not of sin

We’d know not of crimes that should give us all pause

We’d know not that silvery spin

Is needed to lighten the darkening hair

To temper the brilliant white smile

They all look terrific and just to be fair

They look better when in durance vile

 

 

He Shoots, He Scores

We are all familiar with the graph that shows an abrupt rise in temperature from a flat base line. The graph resembles a hockey stick, and is now the basis of the entire global warming hysteria. But is it true? In 2006 the National Research Council was tasked by Congress to look into the data used to determine temperature rise over the past 1,000 years. The NRC looked at the data and concluded that there were some errors but the errors were of little effect. Global warming was thereby validated as fact. But a Canadian named Steve McIntyre, a science advisor to the Canadian government, was not so readily convinced. He asked repeatedly to see the original data, and was repeatedly denied. Finally, after years of struggle, he came upon the original data on which the so-called “hockey stick” graph was based, and discovered the data was cherry-picked to achieve the desired result. Of 252 tree ring cores in the original data set, only 12 cores were used, and those 12 were the only cores that supported global warming. The others either showed no change in global temperatures over the last 1,000 years or showed a decline in global temperatures. Why the con job? Who profits from the global warming hoax, whether monetarily or ideologically? Someone must, or it wouldn’t have happened.       

 

 

Hockey sticks are made of graphite

And if you want to get the graph right

Ya gotta cherry pick your data set

So that you get the end point rise

That points the blade up to the skies

And global warming is the thing you get

We know it’s all a great big fraud

We smiled at Al when he hee-hawed

At Kyoto that soon the earth will steam

As temps rose quickly due to our

Enormous love for fossil power

We just assumed another Big Al scheme

And now we find the data’s wrong

They put in stuff that don’t belong

And got us all into a swivet stew

I wonder who’s the master here

Who’s pushing this the faster here

And I believe it’s only you know who

A movie set, a Nobel Prize

A noble brow and otherwise

Yes he’s the guy who’s running for the score

I think we know the answer now

With cap and trade the big cash cow

The gold will flow to our friend Big Al Gore

 

 

My Car, Please

When last Mullah Omar, the former Taliban leader of Afghanistan was in public view, he was in a car heading out of Kabul for Pakistan when spotted by drones. Permission to fire on the fleeing car was denied by lawyers in Washington on the grounds that somebody might get hurt. Mullah Omar made his escape, and now rules the Taliban from Pakistan through an organization called the Quetta Shura, which makes all strategic decisions for the Taliban. The Pakistan Intelligence Services, the ISI, is on the side of the Taliban, and does not want them destroyed, viewing them as useful for blowing up hotels in Mumbai among other things. The ISI is very powerful among the Pakistani military, and the Pakistani military is very powerful among Pakistani politics and politicians, and there is much pressure being brought upon President Obama not to increase troop strength in Afghanistan. It would appear this is why President Obama is now waffling on his commitment to destroy the Taliban and put Osama bin Laden in jail after a fair trial, in a civilian court of course. Is President Obama looking at Pakistani politics and measuring it against American politics? A fair question. As for Mullah Omar’s reaction to the American stance on Afghanistan, Verse-afire has come into possession of a letter written by an Omar aide to a colleague in the front lines in Afghanistan, which is reproduced below.    

 

 

When Mullah Omar speaks to me

He speaks in terms of victory

And scorns the likes of those who demand peace

Where peace is just surrender-lite

And fear of darkness and the night

Lead western men to stop and holler “Cease!”

The Mullah often does relate

How Allah intervened his fate

When Ami drones were flying overhead

As racing in his car he feared

A missile soon would singe his beard

Yet missile never came as on he fled

He smiles now as he then recalls

How Ami lawyers had no balls

And cautioned that the missile be held back

For fear that someone might be hurt

And at this point he’s sometimes curt

In sneering at the courage Amis lack

In thinking that a war is won

By dropping warheads by the ton

While trying not to hurt a country’s pride

We fight the Ami to the death

We fight till we have no more breath

And soon the Ami will be Allah’s bride

We’ll win this war he says with scorn

For every death there’s ten more born

Who’ll grow to hate the Ami in his bones

We’ll take the fight to Ami’s shore

And show the light of Islam pure

And turn their cities into tumbled stones

 

 

The Saga Of Gundar Hafnilsson

Every October 12th we celebrate the epic voyage of Christopher Columbus, discoverer of the New World. Or at least some of us do. Some claim the first European to reach these shores was not Columbus, but Leif Eriksson, some five hundred years or so earlier. Verse-afire has come upon a recently discovered ancient manuscript written by a contemporary of Leif Eriksson, a Norwegian seaman named Gundar Hafnilsson, a manuscript that throws new light on the controversy. If the manuscript is genuine, and I believe it is, then America was not discovered by Columbus or Leif Eriksson, but by Gundar Hafnilsson. The following is a translation from the Old Norse account, and clearly shows that, as always, the wrong man gets the credit. Damn shame.

 

 

THE SAGA OF GUNDAR HAFNILSSON

 

 

Gundar is my name

And thunder is my game

I sail the storm-tossed seas of ice and cold

I cross the ocean wide

Beyond the great divide

Once crossed by ancient mariners of old

 

To lands far in the west

Where once none would have guessed

That skraelings would have danced upon the shore

We landed in a bay

And gathered round to pray

And gave our thanks to god almighty Thor

 

We stayed for but a while

For thanks to skraeling guile

Those skraeling arrows did us greatly harm

We struggled to resist

And greatly did insist

We came thus not to conquer but to farm

 

The long trip home was tough

The sea was very rough

And many seamen took it quite unwell

With dragon ships awash

With pemmican and squash

The decks became aslick with every swell

 

When Norway we did reach

And stumbled up the beach

The first I saw was Eric’s first son Leif

Who bade me tell him all

Of every port of call

But mostly was the land of skraelings safe

 

I told him sadly no

‘Twas no kind place to go

The people there rent Viking shields apart

He sadly shook his head

And very calmly said

To England then, an easier place to start

 

These words upon his mouth

So saying he sailed south

To the fertile fields of Devon and the Thames

While I my crew did fetch

Every single wretch

And sailed we west for new world gold and gems

 

I quite concealed my glee

As we put out to sea

For having put one over on my friend

And put him off the trail

Of discovery’s holy grail

While my name rang from now to history’s end

 

And thusly’s how it came

The future shouts my name

From heavens high with pride and awesome wonder

  Though discovery’s pride of place

Still calls for some small grace

 I am proud to say my rightful name is Gundar

 

  Knowing history does declare

‘Twas Leif who first was there

Such slings hurt only those poor souls who let it

For surely we’ve all known

That history has shown

Invariably the wrong man gets the credit

 

Yes Gundar is my name

And thunder is my game

And though my crew and I are getting old

We still sail toward setting sun

And till the quest is won

We shall sail the sea of ice and bitter cold

Yes, we shall sail the sea of ice and bitter cold