With his poll numbers falling to below freezing, Barack Hussein Obama, the last black president of the United States, laments his fallen state in a late night tearfest with Vice-president Joe Biden.

How sad the polls now are, Joe
Compared to good times past
I didn’t think that this low
Could come about so fast
How well do I recall what
A man I used to be
I nearly had it all but
It simply fled from me
A million cheering Germans
A Nobel Prize for naught
I loved those racist sermons
And knew that I’d been taught
To do what was expected
My handlers were well pleased
For not a man suspected
That my way had been eased
By sycophants and traitors
Who saw I made the top
But now those right wing haters
Have brought it to a stop
No longer do the masses
Huzzah my very name
Devotion quickly passes
And Joe, that’s just a shame

Venezuela, swimming in oil, is bankrupt. If you say Caracas real fast it sounds like carcass. The grand socialist experiment, the sclerotic European Union, is on life support, and the French have just begged the Brits for a billion pounds. And so it goes with socialism, and so it will go with us as the Democrats place tens of millions of the unproductive on plantations and pour millions of illegal third worlders across the southern border, all of them supported by the rest of us.

And so we say goodbye to fair Caracas
Goodbye to what’s become a steenking carcass
Where socialism proved to be as dark as
The seventh circle of the depths of hell
In France Hollande says things could not be better
But nonetheless he’s sent the Brits a letter
Demanding that while France won’t be a debtor
A billion pounds or so would suit him well
And so it goes where socialism beckons
The unwashed to demand both firsts and seconds
Despite how known experience still reckons
That very soon the markets ring the bell

It has been said that getting old beats the alternative, and for some getting old is simply a time for resting and watching the sunsets after a busy life. Some time ago I stood on a dock, looking across the bay as a slowly setting sun turned the sky a brilliant rose and gold. A frail, elderly man appeared a short distance away, so silently I hadn’t heard him come up. After a short silence he said softly, “You know, some folks look at a sunset like it’s tearing pages from a calendar, counting off the days, but when you think about it it just means we’re getting close to the next day, and next day there’s always a surprise for you.” I said I never thought of it that way, and he said most folks don’t, especially those getting on in years. He looked across the bay at the last of the sun, tapped his cane on the wooden dock, and said, as he turned to go,

The sunsets seem to come now so darn fast
And morning sun just never seems to last
The memories are of the distant past
A movie with a once remembered cast
He smiled and said you find that you’re now slow
The aches you never had begin to show
The high is now less often than the low
And some of what you knew no longer know
He looked across the bay and seemed to tense
Then said for me time’s passage fair relents
And sunsets are for me mere incidents
I tell the man with scythe to take thee hence
He smiled and said I’m here a few more years
Though even now there’s much sand in the gears
For now though I choose laughter over tears
And face the coming sunset with no fears
I watched him walk away, so bent and slow
As all around the shadows seemed to grow
A youngster gently took his hand in tow
Lit by the fading sunset’s afterglow

This past Sunday a great gala love fest was held in Berlin to celebrate the 25^th anniversary of the tearing down of the Berlin Wall. In all the press releases, all the television talking head chatter, all the speeches, the names Ronald Reagan, Margaret Thatcher and Pope John Paul were never heard. It’s as if the wall had come down by magic, as if everyone had woken up one morning and it was gone. Thus it is with lesser men and lesser lights. They cannot bear the thought that those greater than themselves had done something they themselves could never have done.

The world is full of lesser lights
And full of lesser men
Who fly their paper ego kites
Denying where and when
The history of the time was changed
By greater men than they
And so their galas are arranged
As taking place today
Where mum’s the word on who did more
Demolishing that wall
No mention made of Reagan nor
Of Maggie or John Paul

A manger is a sort of structure where one stores feed or fodder for livestock. President Obama, on learning that the American people have thoroughly rejected the progressive Marxist policies of his administration, has risen in fury, demanding that the winners immediately place on his desk an immigration bill acceptable to him. Obama is like a fierce dog guarding his master’s manger, but he has yet to understand that his manger and livestock are now under new management, and are now loaded on a truck for Iowa where Joni Ernst will unload the pigs one by one and make them squeal.

How fierce does that doggie in the manger
Protect what is his from all danger
He snaps and he growls
He barks and he howls
At every detectable stranger
Obama now flexes his power
Demanding that within the hour
An immigrant law
Detach from the maw
Of Congress whom he means to cower
The problems with dogs in the manger
When voters have gone for a changer
Is doggie right now
Can snap and can howl
But it’s doggie who now is in danger

There are those who try to explain why teenage girls in the United States and Western Europe are joining ISIS by claiming it’s because they want the same things that teenage boys who join ISIS want, a strong sense of meaning and purpose. It is always possible these people are wrong, or perhaps they misread the teenage girl’s sense of meaning and purpose, which they assumes is a desire to embrace a rigid and all-consuming religion. I think it might be otherwise. A fifteen year old girl is not a girl at all, but a grown woman. Most American and European teenage boys are not grown men. I submit the fantasy of being the plaything of a hard, fully grown, unwashed, savage man has an allure all its own, and this is why teenage girls want to be with them. They are in love with the image. I spoke to a fifteen year old neighbor about this, and she said:

I love the way they show disdain for women
Their beards must feel delightful when they kiss
The shadows on their face as light is dimmin’
A woman couldn’t want much more than this
I love the robes they wear, the guns they carry
So masculine, so hard, so full of life
A man that every woman wants to marry
I’d love to be a good jihadi wife
I left her to her sighing and her daydreams
I knew she’d never go and join the fight
But sometimes one is overcome by play dreams
I saw her bags were packed and so she might
But if she does she may be disappointed
Her dream man may be not all that she thinks
The holy warrior Allah has anointed
May cause her to think God, this guy sure stinks

The election is over, and the Republicans swept the field, winning seven Senate seats to take the majority, with another two up for grabs, along with a sizeable number of new governors and representatives. In all it was a stinging refusal of the American voting public to have any more of the Marxist government of Barack Obama and his coterie of female Stalinists. We came very close to losing our country, and perhaps the near-death experience will bode well for the future. But as has been said elsewhere, the Left is always with us, the Left never sleeps. And neither should we.

The victor cannot rest his shield
Upon his laurels won
The leftist monster will not yield
Our work is never done
A silver bullet to the head
Through heart a wooden stake
And even so it won’t be dead
It’s thirst for blood won’t slake
Relax your guard and it will rise
A monster from the grave
Imposing on us paradise
They master and we slave

The outcome of today’s midterm elections has little bearing on the current course of national politics and policy, for the culture is now quite possibly irredeemably and unchangeably Left. Conservatives can be elected, but they cannot govern conservatively in defiance of the culture. People want their checks, they want their government programs. To change the current leftist culture that took many decades of hard work by the Left to put in place, will take an equal number of decades and hard work by the conservatives to undo. Conservatives have to recapture the institutions; the schools, the media, the entertainment industry, the churches. It will be a long, tough slog, and we might as well start now, with this election, knowing that few of us, if any, will be around to see the country again the light of the world.

The Dems have changed the eagle to a vulture
They’ve changed the country’s ethos and the culture
From what was once a fierce held independence
To one where slavery has gained ascendance
From free men to their helot filled plantations
Where all must live in their allotted stations
Dependent on their government assistance
A leftist world permitting no resistance
The leftist culture has its red professors
Who play the part of lefty thought confessors
Their open borders bring in third world millions
Whose votes are then redeemed for many trillions
In taxes levied on the most productive
A policy the Left finds most seductive
We must combat this perverse leftist culture
Restore the eagle and destroy the vulture

What was that about reality supplanting the MSM news agenda? What were those Pew Research numbers? Fifteen percent following election news very closely? Twenty-five percent not paying any attention to the election at all? What are the other sixty percent doing? Have they already made up their minds, or do their minds enter into who they vote for at all? I suspect the latter. I believe we may have arrived at the tipping point where the unproductive outnumber the productive and will vote to keep the government checks coming. I asked Waltradamus for his prediction, and he was not quite as obscure as is his custom.

The Senate now is up for grabs
The planets now aligned
But pollsters are not keeping tabs
On those of little mind
The Power that disburses checks
To all and sundry folk
Has fastened collars round their necks
And all laugh at the joke
The rightmost team will taste defeat
The bitter taste runs deep
The planets lined will never meet
The left will power keep
The tipping point has now been reached
The moving throne nailed down
The liberty once former preached
Has given up his crown