The Middle East has been likened to a crocodile, and the muslim Arab rulers of Middle East to smiling crocodiles, ready to pounce on those who feed them at the moment their keepers show the least sign of weakness. That is where we now are. The West in general and the United States in particular, under President Obama, have exhibited a degree of weakness that fairly begs for being eaten. But crocodiles are known to miscalculate and wind up becoming a pair of shoes.

The crocodile, as some would say

Is gentle in a toothsome way

He lies about soaking the sun

And smiles, full knowing life is fun

Great fun for crocs, but not for those

Who dip in water with their toes

And nervous watch him all the while

Quite leery of the croc’s big smile

The croc of course he knows what’s up

He knows the time for him to sup

Will come for toes in water make

A tasty treat for him to take

A peaceful crocodile won’t last

A moment then the die is cast

Without a sound he’ll gently slide

Into the water like the tide

Unnoticed by the dipping toes

Who blinded by the peaceful pose

Is not prepared for the attack

And so he makes the croc a snack

Yes crocodiles are gentle souls

But always well to know their goals

And knowing summon up the will

To smile as you prepare to kill

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The winners in life’s lottery often find they have to fight to hold onto their winnings.

By the fire, late at night

A father told his son

How lucky to be born in such a place

Our clan is far ahead of others

And that we had won

The right to call ourselves the human race

We have the tools that others lack

And skills they do not share

We are the best and will for all of time

Be leaders and inventors

And the best when troubles flare

For us celestial spheres will always chine

We are the winners, you and I

In this life’s lottery

For even though our lives are very hard

The men of future times will know

Us by our pottery

Collecting every precious little shard

Sleep well my son and do not fret

For father will be here

To keep you safe and warm throughout the night

To waken with the sun

For enemies are closely near

I fear tomorrow we will have to fight

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Walid Jumblatt, leader of the Druse in Lebanon, has switched sides, and now supports Hezbollah and Syria, notwithstanding the Syrians murdered his father, and notwithstanding he has been fighting Syria and Hezbollah ever since. Some in the West have accused him of cowardice and worse, but Jumblatt knows which way the wind is blowing in Lebanon, where the United States of Barack Obama has abandoned the people who want democracy and consigned them to the tender mercies of Syria. Jumblatt just wants to stay alive.

Just staying alive

I’m breathing still

I see the sun

I climb the hill

I do what’s right

For me and kin

I pick the side

That looks to win

I disavow

The Munich curse

I had a choice

But which was worse

To get behind

The strongest horse

Or fight and die

Without remorse

I chose to live

I’ve paid my way

And live to fight

Another day

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In his novel 1984, George Orwell told how totalitarian states changed ordinary words into different meanings in order to make the population think in ways the government wanted them to think. We have reached that stage now. CNN has apologized for using the word “crosshairs” in a broadcast. The Left leaped upon the shooting of a Democrat congresswoman in Arizona as an example of the rabid right’s inflammatory rhetoric causing a hate crime, blaming Sarah Palin of using crosshairs on a chart of Democrat seats targeted for capture in the 2010 elections, quite dismissing as irrelevant the Democrats doing the same thing in 2006 and 2008. The words “illegal alien” are now classified as hate speech. And thus, according to the rules of Orwell’s Newspeak, words are to be used or not to be used, depending on whether or not the definitions are useful to the party in power. The Democrats have put us on that path, and it does not augur well for the country.

I think that given immense time

I’d get all nouns and verbs to rhyme

And get all prepositions to agree

With adverbs and the adjective

That modifies the way we live

And punctuates the way the world we see

If Orwell George were with us now

I’m sure he’d show us why and how

The words we used to use are now passé

Old fashioned now we speak in rhymes

With lilting tones and metered times

And how we used to speak now déclassé

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Secretary of State Hillary Clinton has become a non-player in world affairs. It’s all very well for us to feel good about ourselves for making a woman Secretary of State, but the outside world, particularly the muslim world, pay no attention to what a woman says, particularly a woman who has no armed men at her disposal. Hillary Clinton is no Margaret Thatcher. Clinton wags a finger but everyone knows the United States of President Obama will do nothing to protect its friends, its allies, or even itself. And so she wags a finger at Israel, the only democracy and the only dependable friend in the Middle East, while smiling at Syria as it swallows Lebanon and looking on in bemusement as Egypt prepares to be taken over by the Muslim Brotherhood. The only thing she is reasonably accomplished at is wagging her finger at Israel.

With Clinton there the phony

War is all baloney

She’ll wag a finger bony

Sometime

To Israel she natters

Peace in our time’s what matters

These Arabs are Mad Hatters

Sometime

Therefore I do beseech you

I’ve tried so hard to reach you

There’s lessons I must teach you

Sometime

Please listen to my dictum

You must not make a victim

Of people when you’ve licked ‘em

Sometime

You know we stand beside you

Whatever may betide you

Although I may deride you

Sometime

We’ll let this crisis play out

The USA will stay out

We’ll help you find your way out

Sometime

And if you lose we’ll shudder

As you die in the gutter

I’ll be your best tut-tutter

Sometime

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A few weeks ago suicide bombers killed many and wounded very many more in Moscow. The reaction of the US State Department was instructive. We were told to not jump to conclusions, that it is unclear the suicide bombing had anything to do with Islam. The problem with reluctance to admit you are at war is that when that war becomes unbearable, the reaction will be much worse than it would be if we took action against those people now. When an Iranian bomb incinerates a western city it will be too late for judicious use of force, and the muslim world will learn a very hard lesson indeed.

A bomber strikes again but still

We cannot know for sure

If Muslim bomb was used to kill

Or just nutcase du jour

No matter that the pattern’s past

The suicide, the shout

Of Allah Akbar ‘fore the blast

Should raise but little doubt

No better that we turn our heads

And not blame Allah’s kin

For if we march with hob-nailed treads

It’s possible we’ll win

And winning is so déclassé

Among our Lefty folks

Who think that murder is okay

But frown at Muslim jokes

The time is coming, heed the sign

When forbearance erodes

And swift commands go down the line

Installing firing codes

And when the silos empty out

And all the birds have flown

The bomber’s Allah Akbar shout

Becomes an Allah moan

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WikiLeaks, a madman shooting a Congresswoman in Arizona, Roger Moore, Al Gore, Al Sharpton, the Moscow airport bombers, it’s all the same, actors and madmen, smiling for the camera, intent on their fifteen minutes of fame.

Madmen stomp and scream and rage

Why not, the world is but a stage

A stage for actors large and small

Who crave only the curtain call

A bomb, a gun, it’s all the same

A data disk, it’s just a game

What matters is, it gets on Drudge

A nut or hero, yours to judge

But these are just off-Broadway plays

Distracting us in many ways

From distant actors, larger roles

Who pull the strings on us dumb proles

The money men, behind the scenes

Who run the show, the ends and means

We’re in act three, the closing pause

The curtain falls, to no applause

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In his State of the Union speech, President Obama referred to Ronald Reagan as a model of what a president can accomplish, a sure sign, pundits said, that Obama has read the mid-term election results and is charting a course to the center. Not that Obama believes any of the things Reagan believed in, things like the goodness and generosity of the United States. No, any shift to the center by Obama will be political, not ideological. Obama is, and always will be, what he is; a muslim raised man born of a communist mother and father. Obama is no Ronald Reagan.

He found the city dimly limned

Against uncertain sky

And then with words that fairly hymned

He set the city high

Upon his shoulders broad and strong

And strode to top of hill

And there she sits and will for long

Be shining city still

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The Egyptian opposition to Mubarak is composed mostly of young people, students mostly, who have taken a page out of the American Tea Party’s book and organized around Facebook , Twitter and the Internet, keeping in touch electronically, with no clear

Leaders. This has strengths but also weaknesses. Strengths in that the government has no one person or group of persons to arrest, and weaknesses because no one is really in charge, and so the Egyptian Tea Party is open to being taken over by more sophisticated forces. A man on a white horse, perhaps. Maybe even a latter day Saladin.

When I was a boy my mother’s cup

Of favorite eat would steam

Until she smiled and filled it up

With sugar cube and cream

Salada tea was what she drank

No thought of Egypt here

And no connection, to be frank

No tea parties were near

But now it seems that we may see

A Salada to come

The name just reeks of history

A hero name to some

A Saladin may soon arise

As once he did before

On prancing horse he’ll grab the prize

And laughing, go to war

Salah ad din, the king of kings

A warrior prince of old

Bedecked with diamonds, pearls and rings

A man so fierce and bold

And Egypt will take up the flame

For God and Saladin

And go to war in Islam’s name

And so it will begin

Yes mom would sit in morning sun

And drink her cup of tea

Salada tea, yes that’s the one

And dream of what might be

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As of this writing events in Cairo are in the To Be Determined stage. Will Mubarak leave? Will his leaving be enough to quiet the crowd? The Army has not yet acted, but what if they don’t? What happens if the only civilian organized entity capable of taking advantage of the situation is allowed freedom to act? The Muslim Brotherhood is that entity, and they are no friends of the United States or Israel or the West in general. For thirty years Mubarak has cooperated with the US in intelligence and other vital matters. What happens if the Muslim Brotherhood takes control of the government? What happens to the files? How long before Egyptians in our employ are quietly murdered? How long before the entire Rendition program, where we sent captured al Qaeda to Egypt for interrogation, with names and dates, is on Wikileaks, and how long after that before the American Left, the Democrats and the New York Times and the rest of the scum start screaming for George W. Bush and Donald Rumsfeld to be held for trial as war criminals?

Intelligence, once thought to mean

An IQ test as it was seen

By those who seem to feel we’re all alike

Is not the same as we have here

Details of things that some hold dear

Like what we have and where it’s best to strike

Intelligence, once called G2

Is destined for the eyes of few

And must on no account see light of day

That’s why the files in Cairo must

Remain in hands of those we trust

And if they don’t there might be hell to pay

As agents on our side are killed

And voices that we need are stilled

As bearded men read secret stuff with glee

One hopes that much to their surprise

The secret stuff that meets their eyes

Has dates that end in 1963.

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