President Obama will address the country tonight in the annual State of the Union address.  Obama is swimming against a strong outgoing tide that is carrying him into irrelevancy. With momentous events swirling all about him, President Obama seems blissfully disconnected. The outgoing tide has carried him off the beach, where he bobs to and fro, aware in some dim fashion of the nearby looming landmass, but not a part of it. The people of this country are vehemently opposed to giving lawyers to terrorists, vehemently opposed to bringing Khalid Sheikh Mohammed to New York for a show trial that will result in the greatest anti-American propaganda boondoggle in recorded history, and are firmly opposed to the administration’s version of healthcare reform. Despite this, the president floats serenely alone, determined to press ahead, convinced that he and he alone knows what is good for us.

Alone on the beach with the sky turning gray

The timeless sea murmuring low

I spotted a swimmer a distance away

He seemed to be someone I know

He called me a greeting and waved me a hand

He grinned in an infectious way

And said “Why are you standing alone on the sand

Come into the water and play”

‘Twas Hussein Obama and now very near

He swam with strong strokes in the surf

He shouted “Now let me make perfectly clear

You’re standing on my favorite turf

I love shifting sands they permit me to be

Anything that my people desire

I always allow my positions be free

I never go wire to wire”

He emerged from the surf with a bound up the beach

The sun was just breaking new day

“A whole new world order is just in my reach”

He grinned a grin toothy and gay

“I’ve won in Iraq and in Afghan I’m fine

In Yemen we’re rounding them up

Our Iran position is coming on line

Good fortune is filling my cup”

Then back in the water now sparkling with sun

The breakers all brilliant with foam

I watched as he swam knowing he was The One

And turned and walked sadly back home

Back in the 50s, Senator Everett Dirksen, (R-IL), was an eloquent speaker for fiscal restraint. A most effective speaker, a true old-fashioned, crowd pleasing orator, he inveighed against any and all spending by the government he thought unnecessary, which was most of it. He remarked sadly, one time, that “a billion here and a billion there and pretty soon you’re talking real money.” That in a day when a billion dollars was indeed real money. It is amusing to speculate what Senator Dirksen would say of the Obama administration and the Congress spending such unthinkable sums on handouts to unions and Wall Street and other favored Democrat constituencies. And what would Senator Dirksen and other patriots think of the Obama team spending hundreds of millions of dollars on show trials for the murdering Muslims of 9/11 and millions more for lawyers for the Christmas day bomber who tried to kill an airplane full of Americans?

Senator Dirksen was known to declare

In a voice fairly dripping with honey

That a mere billion here and a mere billion there

And soon we are talking real money

Ike then was prez though his syntax did irk us

He balanced the budget for sure

But now we spend money for things like this circus

And smiling they come back for more

Where will it go and where will it end

Obama is digging a hole

The bigger it gets then the more they will spend

And soon we’ll all be on the dole

Millions to try all these Islamist scums

Who laughed at our martyrs now dead

When what they deserve is to hang by their thumbs

Then a bullet to back of the head

By a vote of 5 to 4, the Supreme Court has struck down much of the encumbering language built up over the past few decades that restricted the right of free speech for certain parts of the population. Corporations and unions can now spend freely and in the open, where before they could only spend freely and in disguise. Naturally, President Obama and the Democrat congress are outraged that the Supreme Court has taken literally the words of the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, claiming heatedly that only liberal corporations like the Democrat controlled media has the right to free speech, meaning, in their version of the First Amendment, that only liberals have the rights guaranteed by the Bill of Rights.

Baby, baby, please don’t leave me

Once sung by the Supremes

Is now Obama’s plaintive cry

Just one more crash of dreams

By 5 to 4 the Court has ruled

That speech indeed is free

That henceforth folks can hear the truth

Without the FCC

Deciding just who gets the right

To speak his piece of mind

That heretofore was slanted toward

The leftmost they could find

No wonder ‘Bama’s all shook up

Like Elvis it’s all gone

The Court declared the media is

No longer Hussein’s pawn

President Obama, in the wake of the Massachusetts tsunami, is shuffling the deck chairs, bringing back into the White House the guys who ran the 2008 campaign that got him elected to the job he is clearly not competent to hold. He hopes to bring back that old black magic. Many years ago the immortal Doris Day sang about the magic of being in love. I believe the country is well over the love affair with the man Spike Lee has called the Magical Negro.

He sighs, the song begins

He speaks and they hear violins

It’s magic

The stars desert the skies

As he cuts health care down to size

It’s magic

And then along came Brown

Of Wrentham, Mass

And it all came undone

Alack, alas

You’re done, you’re finished bro

And take Alinsky when you go

It’s magic

No more can you explain

That Bush is cause of all that rain

It’s magic

Why do I tell myself

All that is happening is all really true

It’s just because I know

The magic is that you are through

Some things are even more important than politics, and NFL Championship Sunday is one of them. For that reason, I, Nostradamus, will give you my predictions for Sunday’s games. My first prediction is a dome team will win at least one of the games, and since three of the four teams still playing are dome teams, that one is a one hundred percent certainty, as are most of my predictions. And secondly, I will tell you what I have always told the Medicis. Take the points.

The Jets they like to run the ball

Those passing plays they just don’t call

They play defense like hair’s on fire

I see them going wire to wire

The Colts though like to spread it out

With Peyton there is little doubt

That when the man is in the zone

There’s not a game he does not own

The Vikings have a man named Favre

Who grins because he likes to carve

Those corners up with pinpoint throws

And he could win it, I suppose

The Saints sure look like destiny’s team

They’ve never reached the Super Bowl dream

This time as pretty as you please

They’ll get there ‘cause of one Drew Brees

In 1812 Napoleon’s La Grande Armee entered Moscow, believing they had won the war with Russia. The Russians thought otherwise, and shortly thereafter, starving and cold, the Grande Armee set out for home, across the trackless Russian steppe, in the dead of winter. Very few made it back to France. Obama’s desperate drive to get Obamacare passed in the Senate before Christmas was very like Napoleon’s drive to enter Moscow before winter set in, and the aftermath looks very much like Napoleon’s retreat from Moscow. The American people have seen, despite the heroic efforts by the mainstream media to disguise it, the sordid back alley deals the Dems used to get the needed 60 votes. The people have also seen that passage of Socialized medicine will bankrupt the country, ration healthcare, and enlarge the power of the Federal government, an unholy trinity the people of the United States reject by a substantial margin. And now the voters of Massachusetts have spoken for all of us. As of this writing, Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid and the leaders of the Democratic party are meeting to try to figure out how to get this monstrosity passed, and they are looking at Reconciliation. If they can pull that off they will gotten the camel’s nose under the tent. And if they manage to push something down the throats of a public that has said loudly and clearly that they don’t want it, then the Democrat party will be savaged by the voters in November. If the Dems double down after the Massachusetts defeat, as both Obama and Axelrod have vowed to do, they may get something passed, but the cost to the Democrats will be enormous. Like Napoleon’s soldiers, very few of them will be returning.    

The snow so deep, the wind so cold

The city far away

There’s wealth and food there we were told

Press on another day!

We struggle on, the horses die

And still the city sits

Behind us ‘gainst the winter sky

So far from Austerlitz

We gained the prize, another dawn

But neither wealth nor food

The city burned, the people gone

The men in murderous mood

A tinsel prize, a barren dream

We starved and headed home

Through snow and sleet and cold that seem

To mock each onion dome

We died by roadside, died by wood

We watched the death toll grow

We ate our horses when we could

Then lay down in the snow

But I’m not dead, I’m still alive

Bemused, I watch the scene

As others force the snow and strive

To go where we have been

A tinsel prize, a barren dream

Health care and cap and trade

They never learn, so it would seem

For some dreams never fade

So they press on, alons! No fear!

For snow-bound sixty votes

But coming closer they can hear

The failing bugle notes

The political earthquake that happened Tuesday in Massachusetts has changed the landscape. For a short while there the Democrats thought they had captured the country, wrapped them in swaddling clothes and put them to bed. They thought they could milk the system to their benefit and no one would care or notice. They thought they could destroy the finest health care system the world has ever known with no one raising a voice against it. They thought they could increase the debt by trillions, give billions to unions and other Democrat constituencies without a murmur by the cowed populace. They thought they had a handle on the future, with the Democratic party the home of the young, the hip, the cool. They thought their message of hope and change was enough to quiet the crowd, but they were wrong. The message the Obamacrats were sending out was not selling. There’s an old saying: People won’t buy rotten fish. And rotten fish is what Obama and Reid and Pelosi were selling.

The cauldron hot, they stir the pot

And watch the swirling mist

Pronouncing every moving dot

Too lovely to be kissed

They think, they know, they own the show

The universe is theirs

The message for the plebes below

Is only mama cares

But power brings to would-be kings

Omnipotence and awe

But hubris shows what hubris brings

To those who flout the law

Scott Brown has won the Massachusetts Senate seat by a landslide. The liberal voters of Massachusetts, who voted for Obama 68% to 32% in 2008, have just totally rejected the policies of the man they voted for just one year ago. In spite of this, our Narcissist in Chief vows to double down and force the hated health care bill through the Congress. There are those who look at the year long actions of our president and conclude he is not only a narcissist, but oedipal as well, and believes the United States, which he hates, is his mother, and Muslim black Africa, which he loves, is his father. The country’s in the very best of hands.

M is for the Martha they weren’t buying

O is for our Oedipal president

T is for the Tears the Dems are crying

H is for the Hurt they could not prevent

E is for the Elephant Scott rode on

R is for the Ruin of Dem plans

Put them all together they spell Mother

A half-word Oedipal prez full understands

Chris Matthews at MSNBC sobs that Scott Brown has won the Senate seat in Massachusetts. Don’t know if he still feels a tingle up his leg whenever he thinks of Obama. Don’t know if the rest of the liberal media are as down as Chris, but they probably are. All their work to cover for the crimes of the Democrats, the stealing of elections by Acorn in Washington state and Minnesota, the attempted destruction of the best health care system on Earth, the attempted destruction of the American economy by carbon taxes and trillion dollar stimuli to the unions and other friends, in spite of their best efforts, the MSM has failed to keep the American people from seeing the truth about the Obama/Alinsky agenda to turn the country into another failed Marxist state. No wonder they’re weeping at MSNBC. 

A wake at MSNBC

No Olbermann Keith gotchas

Instead wimp cries how can this be

Thank goodness no one watches

I wonder how the other guys

And gals who read the newses

React when Brown takes down the prize

In liberal Massachooses

Will MSM types bite their tongues

And rip and read with feeling

Or will they scream from out their lungs

That Acorn failed at stealing

I have the sense that something’s turned

Vox populi has wised up

And acted on what they have learned

Obama’s crew they’ve sized up

Scott Brown is now our Paul Revere

With pickup truck not horsey

We’ve turned the tide in this past year

Virginia and New Jorsey

And now to win the bluest state

The bluest of all fifty

Don’t know ‘bout you but I feel great

From 20s phrase, It’s nifty!

A firestorm is brewing in the streets of Massachusetts. The bomber stream is overhead, and the Dems are running for cover. It won’t be Dresden all over again, the firestorm is political, not actual, but just as fierce. The Marxist agenda being pushed by Obama is dead, killed by the voters of the bluest of blue states, Massachusetts. After only one year of Obama’s looting of the country, the people have awakened. Sometimes the only way to cleanse the soul is by fire.

In darkened streets the sirens sound

The few abroad look skyward

In darkened houses close to ground

Deep shelter is the byword

The sirens wail, the bomber stream

Fills darkened sky with thunder

Below the children clutch and scream

As mothers only wonder

Can they survive another night

Then come incendiaries

The firefighters try to fight

Amid their family worries

The flames take hold and spread so fast

The wind whips round the corners

And then it’s over, burnt at last

With few surviving mourners

In Cambridge town the bomber stream

Does not bring death, but trouble

For Obie’s ugly marxist dream

That’s now reduced to rubble