Verse-afire’s Muslim friend Mahmoud was unhappy the Times Square bomber was incompetent, but he shrugged and said tomorrow was another day. He was pleased, though, with the reaction of the liberal press in declaring immediately that the attempted bombing was the work of the Tea Party, which is how he came to be the founder of the Muslim Tea Party.  

 

 

I love my Tea Party, Mahmoud said with glee

The muslim world loves us as well

We’ve signs in real English the whole world to see

We have a bright story to tell

You see we’re against everything you love dear

We wish that you rot long in hell

But that doesn’t mean you should all live in fear

We’re peaceful till god rings the bell

We like to make noises in Times Square New York

‘Cause that’s where our newspaper is

Car bombs don’t go off we don’t know how they work

But bombing’s not really our biz

Our brother Barack is in trouble you know

The bad guys might win in Novem

So now I’m Tea Party and when things go blow

The Times will blame all things on them

 

 

The CIA now has the capability of tracking enemy combatants by the manner in which they spend their days. The CIA calls this The Pattern Of Life. No one is safe from the drones and the satellites. Lead an ordinary, everyday existence and you are safe, but repeatedly do something that raises a red flag, and the next drone you don’t see will have a missile for you. For now it is only used in Afghanistan, but who knows what the future holds? Luckily for me I don’t have a life, so I don’t have a pattern.

 

 

I fear not the drones

For my pattern of life

Is completely flatlined

You can just ask my wife

I sit at my desk

Little mouse in my hand

Staring at a flat screen

While the hour glass sand

Flows so swiftly it seems

That the days turn to night

With a wild rushing wind

Strong enough to give fright

No I fear not the drone

Nor the missiles it brings

For the CIA strikes

Only poor men, not kings

I sleep well at night

I know I’m not alone

For the UAVs know

That I too am a drone

 

 

The Tea Party claimed another significant victory in Tuesday’s primaries when Rand Paul won the Republican nomination for Senate in Kentucky, defeating party regulars. The Tea Party movement is flexing its muscles. Long time Utah Republican moderate Senator Robert Bennett was defeated in his primary bid to be renominated as the Republican candidate for Senate by more conservative candidates backed by the Utah Tea Party. It takes a long time for the tide to turn in politics, a long time for voters to shift their ground, but it looks like it is finally happening. A growing number of Americans are dissatisfied with the socialist direction the country has taken over the past sixty years, and recent events have brought the realization that the good times are not forever, and that we cannot continue to assuage every real or imagined grievance, cannot continue to amass unsustainable debt. The socialist tide started flowing in with FDR, and is now at high water and about to turn around and flow back out. And the tide changer is the Tea Party.       

 

 

A rising tide doth lift all boats

It also lifts both sheep and goats

So hang on for the bumpy ride

The building’s there, let’s get inside

For power is as power does

Where is was is it now is was

We’ll throw the buggers on their ear

Thank God it’s an election year

A liberal Dem or Rhino man

We’ll kick them right out on their can

The Ship of State’s about to tack

The Tide will take our country back

 

 

Today is primary election day in much of the nation. Today we get the chance to start anew. We must remember that the past is here to stay, we cannot change it, we cannot revise it, we can only try to repair the damage. VOTE!

 

 

We cannot unfire the gun

Reverse the circles of the sun

The past is past and by the way

The past is here and here to stay

Elections matter don’t you see

What happens then is history

The past still says Obama won

The future may say one and done

But that is something we can’t know

For we have two whole years to go

And much can happen in that time

And world events can change the clime

A restless wave is growing now

The public will not long allow

The politics that brought us low

Incumbent pols have got to go

The Tea Party now holds the pass

A movement of the middle class

The past is here and here to stay

The future starts Election Day

 

 

The people of Greece continue to torch cars and shops, stone police and demand an end to the IMF bailout that requires them to give up some of the bloated pensions and holidays a benevolent socialist government has bestowed on them using borrowed money they had no intention of paying back. It has all come to a head, the debt crisis is upon Greece and all of Europe, and by extension the United States, and if Greece collapses economically it will drag down Germany and France and then the rest of Europe. None of this matters to the rioters. They want their pensions and vacations and don’t care that those are not flowers on the wall, but darkening shadows and grim writing.

 

 

Yes there’s shadows on the wall

It don’t bother me at all

I will sing and dance till dawn

For tomorrow I’ll be gone

Sipping wine and cutting roses for the table feast

Yes the sun will rise tomorrow though not in the East

Yes there’s writing on the wall

It don’t bother me at all

If it crashes let it burn

It’s all right, I’ve had my turn

Let the people who come after clean the stinking mess

I will dance and sing and sip my wine for I confess

I know there’s shadows on the wall

And it don’t bother me at all

I see the writing on the wall

And it don’t bother me at all

 

 

 

Much is made of the failure of America’s public schools, the failure of the schools to teach, the failure of the kids to learn. There is much that is wrong with some of the schools, but not all of them. My grandchildren are prime examples of what good schools and good teachers can do for good kids.

 

Mrs. Mandes’s 9^th grade class entered a contest sponsored by a local newspaper, the contestants to write a poem about a painting, in this case Orpheus #1 by Paul Keene. The contest was won by Matt Erickson, my grandson. I have tried repeatedly to paste the art into the post, without success, and so must give a brief word picture of the painting in question. It is not exactly The Scream, but close. So now you know where you are. The ‘She’ in the poem is Eurydice.

 

 

Inspirational Painting

Orpheus #1 by Paul Keene

Poem below was printed in the Wed. May 12, 2010 Issue of The Intelligencer

First Place Winner

 

Where She Belongs

By Matt Erickson, Holicong Middle School, Mrs. Mandes Grade 9

 

It was a mission

That I had to complete

Don’t look back, and I pass

Three stages she went through

From being a belonging of the underworld,

Blank, and soul-less

A crowd of underworld dwellers behind her

Urging her on to leave

The second stage, near completion

A face forming as she crosses the Styx

Bright colors show the world above,

A Parthenon, sun, blue skies

And then I failed, as I did look back,

Anticipating her to follow

Her face rages in the third stage

Eyes glaring at me, her one true love

She is no longer an earth dweller

Flames engulf her, bring her back down

It was fate that let her go

Fate decided, not me, not Orpheus, son of Apollo

She wasn’t meant to be here

Now I must walk alone

While she is in ownership to the underworld

It is forever and meant to be

It is,

Where she belongs.

 

 

 

 

Ernest Hemingway was a Chicago guy, and one wonders what he would think of the Chicago of Barack Obama and The Reverend Wright. He would fully understand the Illinois of Governor Blagojevich, for corruption was not new to Chicago or Hemingway. But the Chicago of Obama and his cronies is something different from run-of-the-mill political corruption. It is a deep seated hatred of everything American, something Hemingway would never have understood. Let us remember the Chicago of Ernest Hemingway, where the dead voted early and often, where every politician was on the take, and everyone knew it and didn’t much care. Chicago was not part of Hemingway’s novels, but Hemingway’s novels were part of Chicago.  

 

 

Did Nick Adams say

In his curt South Side way

That Ernest did Chi-town a wrong?

I think that’s not right

The list is not slight

Just listen I’ll sing you a song

The first bars will bring

The Torrents Of Spring

A wonderful, melodic tune

Then in Chicago’s quaint way

Near the ending of day

Comes sweet Death In The Afternoon

The pols wheel and deal

They grin and they steal

By now we all know the whole plot

In Chicago it’s worse

It is all in the verse

The Garden Of Eden it’s not

Elections are rigged

Dead votes up are digged

They stuff ballot boxes in polls

But the winds they will bend

And they’ll find in the end

That it’s they now For Whom The Bell Tolls

 

 

While we look beyond our borders for the threat, unnoticed and unseen, the threat has bored from within. The Fort Hood muslim killer of unarmed soldiers was an American citizen, an officer in the United States Army, who went not unnoticed for his anti-American political views, but untouched and untroubled by the authorities because he was muslim. Political correctness cost over a dozen innocent people their lives. The Times Square bomber was an naturalized Ameican citizen, a muslim from Pakistan. Today the FBI raided houses on Long Island and in New Jersey. They are here, the jihadis, here among us, waiting for the call.   

 

 

They slink and they slither

They creep and they crawl

They live in the sewers

Awaiting the call

They answer to allah

The wise and the pure

To infidel evil

They have now the cure

The pipe bomb, the fire

The car bomb, the gun

Muhammad commands it

And so must be done

A grade school in Russia

Schoolgirls in Afghan

They kill and they slaughter

Wherever they can

And now they are here

In our midst, smiling nice

They know with PC

That we’ll soon pay the price

The question is when

Will the muslim threat cease

The answer: When rid

The religion of peace

 

 

In an effort to save the socialist dream of the European Union, the EU has pledged one trillion dollars of German money to prop up a Greece whose people are rioting in protest at the effort to take away some of the socialist goodies they’ve been given, even though everyone knows that without some sacrifice on the part of the people of Greece the whole European edifice will come crashing down.  No matter.  The Greeks want their handouts to continue no matter the Acropolis comes crashing down on their heads. There was a time Greece produced heroes, like Jason and Hercules. Now all they want to do is fleece the Germans out of a trillion dollars. 

 

 

Jason and the Argonauts

Set sail from ancient Greece

With Orpheus and Hercules

To find the Golden Fleece

Guarded by a dragon fierce

Inside the Sacred Grove

The Heroes thought success was theirs

When into sight they hove

The dragon though had other thoughts

And Jason’s guys were stumped

Till sorcery by Medea

Had mighty dragon trumped

Now you might think this ancient tale

Holds nothing for us now

But you’d be wrong to think this way

And I will tell you how

You see the dragon’s Germany

And Jason, well he’s Greece

He’s borrowed much and repaid none

And that’s the Golden Fleece

 

 

The Belmont Club has an interesting discussion on how left wing activists help the poor, the illiterate, the disabled, fill out absentee ballots. The help consists of filling out the ballot in favor of the activist’s candidate, regardless of what the person being helped might have wished. This is only one of many ways leftist organizations like Acorn see to it that when the votes are counted, the Democrat wins. We have seen massive voter fraud in the governor’s race in Washington State, we have seen massive voter fraud send Al Franken to the Senate and will no doubt see more voter fraud in the future, for the Democrats are not about to give up their silver bullet. Motor voter, absentee ballots, mail-in voting, electronic voting without a paper trail and election day registration will ultimately lead to an electorate that does not trust the results of elections. In 1960 Richard Nixon knew that John Kennedy was elected president with stolen votes in Chicago, Cook county, Illinois, and was urged to contest the results. Nixon said, “No, we are not a banana republic.” In 2000 George W. Bush won Florida by a slim margin and Al Gore demanded a recount, obviously believing that the United States was indeed a banana republic. We are well on our way to achieving the goal of the left wingers, the quangos, the non-governmental organizations. Voter fraud is turning us into a banana republic, with the Democrats in power in perpetuity. 

 

 

The Left, the Left, it never sleeps

When power gets, the power keeps

It matters not, the coming deeps

It’s all in keeping score

The quangos running all our lives

With winning smiles and hidden knives

As honey drips from lefty hives

And still they lust for more

No one is safe, we have no chance

To beat the Leftists at their dance

They know their foe with just a glance

Their hearts bleed for the poor

They help the poor fill out the forms

They know the poor know not the norms

By doing so election storms

Are driven from the door

Election fraud is what they do

Mail-in votes, the Acorn crew

They care not all for me and you

For now they own the store