The stunning defeat in Wisconsin is just in, and the Democrats are behaving in a way we can all understand. They are in complete denial that any such thing as defeat has just happened, and if it did, then the reason was not that the voters rejected them but that the voters didn’t understand the problem. Lefty pundits throughout the night repeatedly said, “The race is too close to call,” and finally, when defeat was evident, “This is a good thing for the Democratic party. It’s a wake-up call. We have to do a better job of educating the unwashed Neanderthals who just voted for those evil Republicans who want to throw Grandma off a cliff and take money from the poor and give it to the rich.” And so on. Defeat is just bad luck, and so just double down and all will come out right in the end.

“Just keep firing those lefty bullets,”

So says Debbie Wassermann Schuletz

“We got votes that we’re just hidin,”

So says little Joey Biden

“We’re ahead, can’t say it bolder,”

Says ’I hate whiteys’ Eric Holder

“We won, and I don’t feed no blarney.”

From press spinmeister fey Jay Carney

“We done darn good, and also weller,”

Ascribed to first lady Micheller

“We’ll send you ‘Pubs back to yo mama

Says toothy smiling Chief Obama

And hand in hand the Dems go merry

A’whistling past the cemetery

It is reported that Iraqi oil exports are soaring and that Asian and European oil companies have signed very lucrative contracts to explore and develop recently discovered Iraqi oil fields. The United States is noticeably absent from all this, even though without the deaths of thousands of American soldiers Saddam Hussein would still be pocketing the oil money. The Lefty anti-war Dems screamed “Blood for Oil!”, accusing George Bush of killing American soldiers to enrich his friends in the oil business. Maybe we should have insisted that freeing the Iraqis from Saddam entitled us to a little bit of reward. Or maybe we should have just taken it. What ever happened to good old fashioned colonialism?

When Roman legions came to Spain

The silver mines were theirs

Where legions went Rome kept the gain

There were no lefty stares

Accusing them of being rude

And profiting from blood

Spilled in the cause of something crude

And running red stained mud

Assyrians were buyers of

Fine goods from overseas

And so they courted Tyre’s love

Allowing, if you please

The citizens of the Levant

To live as pampered slaves

So long as never the word ‘can’t’

Was uttered on the waves

When England absent mindedly

Set up the British Raj

They ruled so very kindedly

Guns almost a mirage

Yet ships set sail most every day

For England’s cool green shore

With riches taken from Bombay

As well as Bangalore

And so I ask why recently

We don’t keep what we seize

So long as we act decently

And always saying ‘Please’

Man has tried to divine the future since the beginning of Man. Seers, shamans, medicine men and fraudsters of all shapes and sizes have claimed to know what is to come. Some claimed to know that Scott Walker would lose the recall election in Wisconsin. Others are confident they know what is going to happen to Western civilization in the next few decades. The truth is, of course, that no one knows what will happen tomorrow, let alone years from now. All you can do is make your bets and hope for the best.

The past is prologue, so they say

The present surely tense

The future more so, by the way

That’s why it makes more sense

To view the future as a place

Where prologues go to die

And where the present’s happy face

Leads one to wonder why

We ever thought we could divine

The happenings to come

To you and yours and me and mine

Especially to some

Like politics and world events

And who will win the Cup

And whose white horse will take us hence

To from the manna sup

The future is but closed to all

Behind the curtain hums

A sound as of a summer squall

And then tomorrow comes

Soros the mastermind has chimed in on the European debt crisis by stating that the crisis is not an economic one but a political one, and that he has the solution to the problem. He says he has developed a model of the boom bust process that drives economics, with the implied suggestion that if the crises in Greece and Spain and elsewhere in Europe were given to him to solve all would be well. And he’s right. Soros has a knack for pulling a veil over his activities, hiding them so well he emerges after the event, whatever event he is hiding, with another hundred billion or so of someone else’s money.

In this vale of sorrows

Where man sees not his fate

He cringes at tomorrows

As closer creeps the date

When veils are torn asunder

And faces are revealed

And good unmasked as plunder

The veiling had concealed

But someone has the answer

Who can the sorrows still

Will no one kill the cancer

The veil of Soros will

In Chicago, stimulus money was supposed to go for a new railroad bridge, with a lot of minority hires. President Obama touted the project, local bigwigs waxed ecstatic, and all seemed well in Chicagoland. Except that now the black community is crying foul, claiming that black workers are not getting their fair share of the jobs, one black politician going so far as to claim that the contracts were fixed. What did they expect? Of course the contracts were fixed. It’s Chicago. One Chicago politician, under indictment, decided it was better to step in front of a train than run the risk of incriminating other pols in whatever illegality they were pursuing. Chicago is the town where crooked politics were refined, if not invented, the town that embraced Obama, and whose politics and criminal mores Obama embraced. And today Washington is filled with Chicago trained politicians running the country. Yes, that toddlin’ town has made it big time.

Chicago’s toddlers know the score

Before they reach age five

And by the time they’re twenty-four

Why some are still alive

And into politics they go

The people they will serve

And stand on tracks to watch a slow

Train come around the curve

But not before the money tree

Was shaken and the plums

Fell into pockets ‘cause they’re free

And underlings the crumbs

Oh yes it is a toddlin’ town

A place where dreams are made

A place Obama’s shaking down

A place of masquerade

Where City Hall holds crooks and thieves

In offices for life

And everyone in town believes

The game is to the knife

From Kenya unto Harvard Law

Young Barack made his way

And then Chicago town he saw

And he was there to stay

Attending church with reverend Wright

And listening to his screed

And dreaming Marxist dreams at night

Of making white men bleed

And now he toddles ‘round the globe

Bowing low to kings

And kissing every bloody robe

And kissing tyrants rings

But come November of this year

It all comes tumbling down

And Barack’s thrown out on his ear

Back to that toddlin’ town

Everybody has a graph. There are graphs to explain other graphs, there are graphs to refute other graphs, there are graphs designed to allow the maker of the graph to brag about something, and graphs to show that the bragging graph is really a sobbing, beg forgiveness for all my sins graph. There is an old saying, that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Is that what these graphs are intended for, to convince us that the grass is or is not greener on the other side of the fence? Whose graph do we believe?

What can we make of all these graphs

That make the bleak world meaner

Are they in fact but epitaphs

That make the pain much keener

What can we make of all those lines

That say our wealth is leaner

Perhaps we need to see some signs

That say the graphs is greener

Beyond the Lefty box we’re in

That takes us to the cleaner

We need to hush the Lefty din

And live where graphs is greener

In a moment of guilt, the American people decided to fix the problem of minorities, first African Americans and later women, both categories being last in line for jobs and education behind white men. The problem is, once the pendulum is put in motion, it never stops at neutral, it always continues to the opposite extreme, where affirmative action now directly harms those not expressly designated as recipients of government largesse. And when that happens, eventually the part of the population actually harmed by affirmative action takes steps to reverse the pendulum, in the expectation that the pendulum will eventually stop at neutral. But it never does. Asian Americans are now bringing lawsuits against universities that deny them entrance, even though their scores are considerably higher than the scores of African American applicants. The Asian Americans will eventually find legal relief, and the pendulum will start to swing the other way. But where will it end?

The pendulum at top of arc

Will briefly pause ‘fore it descends

To leave once favored in the dark

To favor whom? Well, it depends

On where the pendulum in flight

Is at at any given time

To pendulums no wrong or right

Pertains, nor reason and or rhyme

For pendulums think not at all

About the nature of those arcs

Or for the reason for their fall

From favored whites to Rosa Parks

Who for the briefest moment shone

Reflected light upon her kin

Who by the pendulum alone

Were favored with a transient win

The pendulum now upward swings

And those now favored must adjourn

And leave the arc and gifts it brings

To those believing it’s their turn

It’s election time again, and incumbents are finding the people tired of sending the same old faces back to Washington. Incumbent after long time incumbent has gone down to defeat in the primaries at the hands of a new face on the block, and they, the incumbents, don’t like it. They believe, with heartfelt sincerity, that the job belongs to them by Divine Right. And so they cry and scream it isn’t fair.

Incumbents cry

You know that I

Have only you in mind

I work for you

You know it’s true

I am one of a kind

Those other guys

They tell such lies

Opponents and their friends

And ‘fore you know

We all will go

And thus our freedom ends

A vote for me

And you will see

Our freedom’s flag on high

Just send me back

I’m not some hack

Like him, that other guy

Frank Sheeran, dying of cancer, told the story of how he put Jimmy Hoffa down, and confessed his sins, all in the expectation that God would forgive him. Hugo Chavez, also dying of cancer, forgot he was an atheist Communist long enough to confess to a priest. And they were not the only ones. Faced with imminent death, most people want to square things with God. People on deathbeds have confessed to unsolved murders and to any manner of criminality, all because they believe God will forgive them, no matter what they had done. These people are all optimists. The optimist believes God will forgive him even if he isn’t truly repentant, while the pessimist thinks God will not believe he is truly repentant, even if he is. The pessimist is doomed whatever he does, while the optimist has a puncher’s chance.

The pessimist knows God is smart

And plans to lay him low

God knows he prays to play a part

As he prepares to go

He pleads to God in tear stained voice

To let him tell his side

That life had given him no choice

But His will he’d abide

And then as death drew quiet near

And children gathered ‘round

God bent and whispered in his ear

‘Tis wanting you’ve been found

The optimist on other hand

As on his death bed climbs

Smiles calmly to the family band

Because he’s dropped some dimes

On guys he knows had said a prayer

And off to Heaven sent

And so it was without a care

To God his message went

He had the goods on many friends

If God would care to know

And he would tell to make amends

And thus avoid below

The optimist as death drew near

Quite certain that his fate

Was Heaven bound was shocked to hear

God say it was too late

The saga of Greece and the Euro and the Eurozone continues. The Greeks want no part of austerity, and neither does anyone else, which means that if the Euro is to survive in any meaningful way the Germans will have to come once again to the rescue. But the German taxpayers have about had it with bailing out people who would rather collect German checks than work. And so the countries of southern Europe drift slowly upon the iceberg. Like the Titanic, they believe they are too big to fail, and that something will turn up at the last minute to save them.

Beneath the placid surface

Upon which the fine ships swim

There stirs a subtle movement

While the band selects a hymn

And while the dancers dance and

Partygoers drink their wine

Deep down below the surface

Someone’s singing Auld Lang Syne

Yet who will see this deep dark night

Where starlight fills the sky

That on the edge of vision

Lies the answer to the why

The ship seems strangely silent

As if engines had to cease

Their steady throb of power

As they near the shores of Greece

With booming surf in hearing

The commanders set the goals

That would keep the ship from setting

Up upon the fearsome shoals

And as they talked deep in the ship

The crew began to bail

Ignored by the commanders

Who said we’re too big to fail