Putin and Obama are apparently on the same page with regards to the future of the sovereign country of Ukraine. Putin wants to rewrite the Ukrainian constitution, without any Ukrainians present, and Obama has hurriedly sent John Kerry to Paris to iron out the details with the Soviet, excuse me, the Russian foreign minister. Kind of reminds me a little of how the Brits and the Germans determined the fate of Czechoslovakia in 1938 without consulting the Czechs, and we all know how that turned out.

Yes Putin gets what Putin wants
That’s how he plays the game
He promises that Russian grunts
Will set the world aflame
With Putin it is all about
Diminishing the States
Reducing US world wide clout
America he hates
Obama smiles and without pause
Says Putin’s point of view
Is fine with him and that’s because
Obama wants that too

An American peace activist named Medea Benjamin injected herself into Egyptian politics and was roughed up by the police, whereupon she screamed for the American government to protect her. There might have been a time when being an American was protection enough, but those days are gone, and American busybodies are now nobodies. When did Medea Benjamin become a nobody? The answer is she was always a nobody, but being American once allowed busybody Americans to go to foreign countries and throw their supposed weight around. The more interesting question is why did her parents name her Medea. Or did she choose it for herself later. We all know the story of the Medea of Euripides. She was a killer who was spirited out of danger by her grandfather, the Sun King, in a dragon pulled chariot. No dragon pulled chariots for this Medea, just an Egyptian police paddy wagon.

The world at large despairs for peace, was her unshaken curse
In weakness and submission world peace lay
She did not know or did not care that weakness made things worse
That weakness and submission made you prey
Busybodies from this country roamed the world at large
Demanding other people change their ways
Insisting they were smarter and deserved to be in charge
Thank goodness we are now beyond those days

The Left has killed more people in the 20^th century than can be accurately counted. Stalin, Hitler, Pol Pot, Mao Tse Tung, the Kims, the Shining Path, Castro, and assorted small time leftist tyrants like Ortega et al. What unites them, besides the murder of innocents in the hundreds of millions, is that they are admired, to a man, by the Western Leftists. Mao’s picture was placed on the White House Christmas tree in 2009, an Obama appointee gushed how Mao was her favorite philosopher, and svelte young men and hairy lesbians proudly wear T-shirts with Che Guevara’s picture smiling at us.

The darling of the lefty crowd
They wore Che’s shirt to make mom proud
They loved the killer Uncle Joe
And Pol Pot’s omelets stole the show
It mattered not the Killing Fields
Where skulls piled up in massive yields
Why did the Leftists love these guys
What made them holy in their eyes
It wasn’t sheer myopia
But Socialist Utopia

Robots are increasing in intelligence, and worries abound that one day, when they are as intelligent as the men who created them, they may band together to take over the world. But if they do become that intelligent would they not believe that Man is God? They would not. They would believe that God is a robot. An intelligent homo sapiens believes he is made in the image of God, which is just another way of saying that God looks like him. An intelligent eagle will believe God looks like him and an intelligent snail will believe God looks like a snail, so therefore an intelligent robot would believe God looks like a robot. And every one of them would be right, for God is imageless, and appears in differing guises to people here on Earth, let alone to different intelligent species on Earth, where chimpanzees and whales no doubt view the Creator as, respectively, a chimpanzee and a whale. But it takes more than intelligence. Neither the snail nor the eagle is about to begin a religious war to impose his God on us, but the intelligent robot might. The question of whether the robot would win that war is answerable: he would not, unless Barack Obama is still president.

A billion snails when mobilized
A smart and warlike bunch
Would find that they’d be stepped on
With a satisfying crunch
A billion eagles circling high
With eagle eyeing frown
Would see those guys with shotguns
Who’d call out, Come on down
And so it is when robot man
Puts his God to the test
He’d need a robot shrink to tell him
Why he’s so depressed

The country seems to many to be in imminent danger of economic and political collapse, heading for the precipice at breakneck speed, and those in charge apparently unconcerned or unknowing, while those crying for a change in course blame the inaction on the ideology of the president and/or Congress. But one cannot fault a man or country for going over the edge while clinging to a failed ideology. The current seems placid, containable, up until the time they enter the vortex, at which time forces beyond their control spin them down the raging current to the looming edge, regardless of whether they cling to their beliefs or try something new. Last desperate measures are just that, desperate and last.

And yet in distance dimly seen
The tranquil waters seem to change
The ships sail on, the captains deaf
To cries the deck chairs rearrange
The water quickens, starts to roil
And still the captains stay their course
As jagged rocks in foam and froth
Stand braced against the fierce flung force
At last the captains see their plight
The chasm edge is plain in view
And vainly try they now at last
To save their ships, themselves and crew
The current grabs them, thrusts them on
As mighty forces hold them fast
And so they die just as the lived
Betrayed by nostrums to the last

Talking to a mule is a pointless undertaking, just as talking to a Democrat is pointless. Democrats have their reasons for everything they do and say, and even if those reasons damage the country it doesn’t matter, so long as those reasons either get them votes or keep them from losing votes, for power is the name of the game. I talked to a Democrat mule just today and asked how he felt about fracking. He thought for a moment and then said

I do recall that in my youth I heard about this fracking
But truth to tell I cannot say for sure
If what I heard is true or false, it sent my brain to wracking
And this is where I think now lays the score
By fracking we will increase both our oil and gas reserves and
Be free of buying foreign oil to boot
Not mentioning that Putin will get just what he deserves and
The gas we sell with bring us lots of loot
But every ointment has its fly, and fracking has so many
Environmental problems rocking boats
And there are many mules like me who also don’t want any
Dumb fracking talk that just will cost us votes
The Greens still point the way to go, despite the disadvantage
That doing so will cause the country grief
These crises come these crises go, we just apply a bandage
And look to the UN for some relief
So saying he worked both his ears, his tail swished ‘cross his bottom
He slowly walked across the field of corn
I heard him mutter ‘neath his breath that troubles he sure got ‘em
And wonder why on Earth he had been born

FOR OUR DAUGHTER ON HER BIRTHDAY

Another winter comes and goes
How tired we are of all those snows
How pleased we are when Spring is here
It signals that your birthday’s near
We understand you’d rather not
See them at all, they’re best forgot
But look upon the brighter side
Your youth that was such a fun ride
Is now behind you, no bad thing
Good middle age will ease the sting
Of memories that make you wince
At dumb things you have not done since
So middle age is best of all
What memories you will recall
Of sitting on the couch all night
And watching movies recondite
We have our memories of you
Forever with us, ever new
You fill to brim our mem’ry banks
And so we give our many thanks
To He who made you what you are
Your mom and dad’s bright shining star

 LOVE AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY
MOM AND DAD

The search for the Malaysian 777 has expanded to include the whole of the Indian Ocean, meaning the search is now looking for a very small needle in a very large haystack, And of course the plane may not be in the Indian Ocean at all, but in another haystack entirely.

The trouble with these haystacks is there’s always more than one
So finding the right haystack is no fun
That haystack can be anywhere beneath the flaming sun
And finding one small needle can’t be done
Without first narrowing the search to one small haystack field
And then determine which will likely yield
The needle when each piece of hay is well and truly peeled
From that one haystack that has been revealed
By data from our geostationary satellites
That work all day and also through the nights
Collecting and relaying pings as though they’re shim’ring lights
And bringing those wee haystacks in our sights
So if I had to guess where this darn airplane can be found
I’d say the data that is going ‘round
Would indicate that the said airplane surely would be bound
For someplace where its wheels could touch the ground
And that means someplace that has been some time ago prepared
Before this mystery was ever aired
That haystack and that needle are so intimately paired
That gentlemen I think we should be scared

The Malaysian government, leaving no stone unturned in its search for the missing Boeing 777, engaged a local witch doctor to help, enraging that Muslim country’s Imams who demanded the native witch doctors be suppressed. The Imams may try to get rid of the witch doctors, but the people were promised that if they liked their witch doctor they could keep him, and we all know a promise made is a promise kept. And did not Obama respond to charges he lied when he said you could keep your doctor by saying, “Yes, but I didn’t say WHICH doctor.”

Dismissing ancient customs with a sneer, a smirk and shrug
Denotes a mind that’s permanently closed
For shaking rattles just might be a feature not a bug
And more effective than had been supposed
For who can say the spell the doctor cast in ancient rite
Was not the means they found the debris where
The good doctor’s wild chanting sent the Chinese satellite
To just the right grid and the right search square
Alas the satellite saw wrong or saw the wrong debris
It seems that what it saw was not the plane
But witch’s spells reach far and long and so we’ll wait and see
For many vast, deep oceans still remain

We are all aware who Murphy is. He’s the guy who famously said that whatever can go wrong, will. And so we have living proof of that dictum in the Obama administration, and in particular in the person of Mr. Obama himself. The only question is, does Mr. Obama deliberately have things go wrong as part of his evil plan to destroy the United States as his mother and father desired, or is he just a klutz, an incompetent, one of the unluckly people for whom everything goes wrong. We don’t yet know the answer to that, but I have my suspicions.

I spoke to Murphy man to man, ‘twas just the other day
He said when something can go wrong it will
He said look back in hist’ry and you’ll see that what I say
Was right in ancient times and righter still
When Caesar crossed the Rubicon, when Henry married Anne
When Bonaparte left Moscow in the snow
Stuff going wrong is here to stay and here since time began
And will not stop til judgment trumpets blow
What makes you think Obama’s the exception to the rule
When things go wrong it’s not the poor man’s fault
He tries so hard to do things right and then’s kept after school
But wrong stuff happens and will never halt
I thanked him for his insight and we said our fond goodbyes
But doubts and worries deep inside me grew
Obama’s wrong so often that it can’t be a surprise
That Murphy seems to stick to him like glue