The Defense Department is working on insects implanted with sensors to infiltrate and report on people the Department feels are a threat to the United States. The computerized insects, called cyborgs, can get into places no human could get into, and could be reporting back to the Department while in plain sight of the targets. But what if the targets are wise to the spying flies, or flying spies? Who do you call in if you suspect that fly on the wall is a cyborg? The Swat Team.

 

 

There was an old woman who swallowed a fly

She swallowed a fly, they don’t know why

She swallowed the fly ‘cause she’s a spy

And working for old Johnny Reb

They caught her and brought forth to lay down beside her

A counter-intelligence cyborgean spider

Who snickered and laughed as she crawled down inside her

The fly would soon be in her web

Much to their surprise the smart spider then failed

To capture the fly for the woman exhaled

And the fly fled the scene and his friends he regaled

With the story of how he escaped

There’s no happy end to this story of ours

For the Swat team was there within minutes not hours

The fly’s body returned to the government powers

To be buried in casket flag draped

 

 

The Parliament of Oliver Cromwell had declared Christmas to be too solemn an event for festivity and merriment, and outlawed all celebrations. Groups of people opposed to the new law handed out broadsides with words of protest, demanding they be given their Christmas back. The words were put to music, and the song, The World Turned Upside Down, has been handed down the generations, and was, as legend has it, played by the British band when Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown. The original song began with the line, “If buttercups buzzed after bees,” and went on to describe a series of upside down events, ending with the line, “Then all the world would be upside down.” That is where we now are – the world is upside down. What was wrong in the past is now right, what was immoral in the past is now moral, what was black is now white, and what was white is now black.

 

 

If buttercups buzzed after bees

And Christians not look at the skies

If pederasts do as they please

And truth is now said to be lies

If treachery now is the norm

And killing of babes is all right

If hate speech is now the new form

And dawn does not follow the night

If people have nothing to say

About what goes on in their town

Then that is where we are today

And the world is again upside down

 

 My novels on Amazon can be found HERE

 

 

The Mexican drug wars are spilling over into the United States, and calls for action are heard from those who believe they have nothing to do with the Mexican cartels. They call for the US Army to go into Mexico and clean up the murderous drug cartels, the way General John J. (Blackjack) Pershing went into Mexico after the bandit Pancho Villa in 1916. But there would be no drug wars if there were no drug takers and drug buyers, all of them here in the United States. If the US Army is to go anywhere, it should go after the affluent whites who smoke the dope and cause the murders.

 

 

When Blackjack went for Pancho Villa

Pancho smiled and said I’ll see ya

Things were quiet for a while

That is until drugs came in style

A thirties song called Reefer Madness

Showed the side of jazz time badness

Who smoked the dope? A tiny fraction

Jazz men mostly, in the action

The sixties came, that’s when it started

Rebellious kids and morals parted

A generation raised on hype

And dope gave rise to a new type

Of young, successful white suburban

Men and women who went urban

For their hash and coke of course

And once they climbed upon that horse

Their craving for the high increased

And brought about the greater beast

Cartels who murdered, raped and slew

To bring the horse right home to you

The fatted, coddled prep schooled whites

Who thought themselves the golden knights

And drew the lines, not in the sand

But lines in powder, while the band

Played dirges that they could not hear

While scything noises crept quite near

Oh yes the gangsters murder law

To feed the hungry white man’s maw

America knows who’s to blame

We know them all, know who to name

If Pershing were alive today

We know quite well what he would say

He’d say that Villa’s not the threat

He’d say the people we should get

And put in jail until they rot

The buyers of the coke and pot

 

My novels on Amazon can be found HERE

 

 

 

A Black Swan is defined as an event no one saw coming, and many described the events of 2008 and 2009 as a Black Swans. But they were not Black Swans, they were White Swans, for quite a few people saw where the criminal gang running Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac were taking us. Saw what was happening and brought it forcefully to the attention of Congress, where guys like Barney Frank and the rest of the Democrats brushed off the evidence and proclaimed all was well, that giving mortgages to people with no reasonable expectation of paying them was a reasonable thing to do, and for the Democrats it was a reasonable thing to do, for the people getting those mortgages were an integral part of the Democratic base, and could be relied upon to vote Democrat so long as they were fed other peoples’ money in a never ending stream.  Now if the black swans and the white swans could get together, maybe we’d have a chance of getting out of this mess. But don’t hold your breath.

 

 

Prince Barack, with some handsome friends

In Bretton Woods go hunting

When magically the woodlot ends

To show a lake not wanting

In beauty, filled with pure white swans

Once maidens, now bewitcheth

By Fannie Mae and other cons

Whose nostrums they did pitcheth

Good Prince Barack, now deep in love

With Odette, swan and comely

Cried in despair to gods above

Why is Odile so homely

Odette said that the spell were gone

If Barack loved her fiercely

And if he cried on White House lawn

With face all streaming tearsly

That debt and earmarks and the like

Were now and ever done with

And did he not she’d take a hike

He’d not have her for fun with

And so he did and all the swans

Were unbewitched and praised him

And swore that no more magic wands

Would harm the ones who raised him

With crisis passed the whole great gang

Of mankind cried Hosannas

And white and black the swans all sang

Yes, we have no bananas

 

My novels on Amazon, paperback and Kindle, can be found HERE. Paperbacks are listed at $12.00, Kindle versions listed at 99 cents. And you don’t have to own a Kindle; Kindle versions can be downloaded to your PC with a free app from Kindle.