We continue our examination of Rahm Emanuel by asking the question: Who is Rahm Emanuel, President Obama’s Chief of Staff? Or should we say, who was he, for he will shortly be leaving his post, which no one believes is voluntary. What sort of man was he? Or is he? The answer is, he’s a tough guy, a Chicago guy, a guy who gets things done by the artful twisting of arms, by threats and coercion, or even sweet persuasion if that is what it takes. Of course with Rahm sweet persuasion means covering the brass knuckles with a freshly laundered glove. Does a man like this go quietly? Not usually. Will he have a few choice things to say on his way out the door, or out the window as the case may be? I’m counting on it.  

 

 

The Chief of Staff

He makes me laugh

He bullies, threatens, curses

He pulls the strings

On many things

To fill Obama’s purses

The Blago tape

Leaves no escape

From favors he disburses

And all dead foes

That goodness knows

Whose bodies he disperses

But now he says

Goodbye to Prez

And what is even worse is

That up his sleeves

Before he leaves

He’ll roll out all the hearses

 

 

Rahm Emanuel, President Obama’s Chief of Staff, has recently let it be known he will shortly resign his post and return to Chicago in order to spend more time with his family. Of course he does. Of course it’s his idea. I have no doubt Rahm Emanuel has a lovely wife and kids, and that he would like to spend more time with them than his demanding job permits, but the question is, why is Obama firing him? Is there something in the Blago tapes we do not yet know? I suspect we’ll find out. It’s a cruel world. Years of slavish devotion mean nothing when you are deemed no longer useful.  

 

 

Poor poor Rahm has had his day

His style now out of fashion

Bought by The One then thrown away

To a convenient trash bin

Rahm may claim that it’s his call

But all of us know better

With gun to head he’ll take the fall

By resignation letter

It’s all his fault it’s come apart

This hope and changey promise

Just fizzled out right from the start

Another lefty bomb miss

And so somebody has to pay

For screwing up Obama

And Rahm’s the guy sent on his way

Back home to kids and momma

 

 

Four decades ago the Soviets deployed a short range, wildly inaccurate missile we called the Scud.  It’s children, a little larger, slightly more accurate and with a little longer range, is now the favored weapon of third world countries. Iran and Syria have shipped hundreds of them to Hezbullah in Lebanon, bringing every inch of Israel within range. So dangerous has this outmoded missile become in the hands of terrorists and terrorist states that the United States and Israel have been working on ways to shoot it down in boost phase with long range missiles shot from fighter planes or UAVs. The danger will come when Iran and Syria think the time is ripe to destroy Israel and Hezbullah starts shooting them at Tel Aviv. When that happens the Israelis will forcefully respond, and what happens next depends on whether Israel wants to do the job right once the war starts and take out not only Hezbullah and Syria, but Iran and Iranian nukes as well. It will happen, the only question is when. Actually, there is another question: whose side will Obama be on? I think we know the answer to that one. Obama, by declaring that the US will not re-supply Israel, has left Israel with only one option. A full scale war with Iran and Syria will very quickly draw down Israel’s war stocks, leaving them only nukes or surrender and genocide at the hands of the Arabs. Obama, by his bungling, has drawn the Middle East closer to nuclear war than it otherwise would have been.  

 

 

The Russkies built what we called Scud

We laughed and thought the thing a dud

It had no range and so we’d smile

It missed its target by a mile

But here we are some decades hence

And these old Scuds defy defense

To the extent that techie guys

Must dream up ways to clear the skies

With anti-missiles shot from planes

To catch them in their booster lanes

Now who’ve thunk  at this late date

Hezbullah would be tempting fate

By aiming one at Tel Aviv

For surely they cannot believe

Israelis won’t just hit them hard

And wipe them up across the yard

No something else is surely up

For not since Hector was a pup

Had anyone as much to lose

So Hezbullah has now to choose

Do they continue Iran’s games

Shoot off a Scud, go down in flames

Or is this all a great big bluff

And when Israelis say, Enough!

They’ll act like Arabs, fold their tents

But no, for that makes too much sense

There will be war in Middle East

And it will draw in us, at least

And likely draw in others too

And spread to places that are new

To Middle Eastern scams and schemes

And that is why to me it seems

That nukes will fly and cities burn

And rivers steam and in its turn

The sand turns glassy red with blood

And all because of some old Scud

 

 

A surgeon in the British army, poking fun at the rude colonial boys playing at being officers and gentlemen, wrote a ditty called Yankee Doodle, describing a yokel putting a feather in his cap and calling it macaroni, a reference to British military slang that referred to gold braid as macaroni, as we now call gold braid scrambled eggs. The rude colonial boys turned the tables and proudly proclaimed themselves Yankee Doodle, giving rise to George M. Cohan’s famous song. But Cohan went further than that. His song You’re A Grand Old Flag was the first piece of sheet music to sell over a million copies. Both songs are now part of the national consciousness. The following is homage to George M. Cohan, a true Yankee Doodle Dandy.

 

Yes, she’s a grand old flag

A high flying flag

And forever and ever she’ll wave

And we take great pride

In the men who died

To keep this the home of the brave

We’ve been tried before

In bad times and war

And we’ve always come through in the end

For the stars and stripes

Lead the drums and pipes

In the march down the street, round the bend

To the promised land

That the brothered band

Left to us by their service to all

Yes they died for the flag

For that high flying flag

May we always have brave men on call