In a locked, sealed and heavily guarded room deep in the bowels of the White House, newly elected President for Life Barack Obama lays out the future to Co-Vice Presidents for Life Bill Clinton and Elizabeth Hurley.

“I love my golf,” Obama laughed,
“It’s such a simple game
No need for booty or for graft
Like others I could name.”
“Speaking of booty,” Clinton smiled
I hope that you don’t mind
My co vice prez is kinda wild
Ah see our stars aligned
So if you could, bro, make it short
We share  your point of view
So you can hold down this here fort
While we say toodle-oo.”
Obama said, “I feel your pain
The future it looks bright
And so until we meet again
Let’s all just say goodnight.
We’ll meet again in this sealed room
And count the circled suns
Our blue state friends are wrapped in gloom
Them red states all have guns.”

The nanny state has given birth to a growing number of young people who do not at all mind being unemployed, what with food stamps, eternal unemployment checks, living at home with mom and dad, using their free time to travel and do fun things they would be unable to do  were they gainfully employed. In fact, they call it funemployment. Another large group is not having as much fun, worried as they are that the country is about to experience a return to the 1930s and a full blown Depression. I would be happy as hell to go back to the 30s. I was just a kid and had the time of my life playing cops and robbers and climbing up onto the boxcars in the local Pennsylvania Railroad switchyard. And to the young guys on funemployment, enjoy it while you may because we will soon be at war with Iran and possibly China, and funemployment will very soon be succeeded by fundeployment

O happy days when I was six
A horse named Tony, the great Tom Mix
The Hindenburg and Earhart too
Their flights cut short, at least they flew
Depression times, when jobs were slow
I’m just a kid, what did I know

Quantum physics says time is an illusion and string theory seems to suggest that nothing can be smaller than the smallest string, meaning that space may be an illusion as well. Electrons and positrons are entangled, meaning they are not two separate particles but one particle with simultaneously opposite polarities. Not quite a trinity but certainly a binity. And now there are people claiming there are no black holes. Don’t know if some or any of this is true, but it makes for interesting speculation on a cold winter night.

Time is an illusion
Bringing mass confusion
When it comes time to push the time ahead
Spring forward or Fall back
The holes no longer black
And since there is no space, space travel’s dead
Electrons when at rest
Have tiny mass at best
Entangled as they are with positrons
Illusions everywhere
Just like Obamacare
It’s just our luck we’ve real Obamatrons

A valentine, dedicated to all who remember that first intoxicating love. 

The mind drifts back, the time retold
I’m ten and she is too
Her hair the glow of sunlit gold
And eyes cornflower blue
I saw her after years had flown
We both now aged and old
She seemed so worn, so sad, alone
And shivered with the cold
She did not see me where I stood
And vanished from my view
I lingered but she’d gone for good
And once again I knew
That time would always be on hold
I’m ten and she is too
Her hair the glow of sunlit gold
And eyes cornflower blue

There is an old movie called Sunset Boulevard, and while it had nothing to do with the current military, economic and political condition of the United States, the title is appropriate. The country is now on the street to decay, heading into the sunset of our country’s life span, and the street is named Sunset Boulevard. We are now a 1949 Nash, wheezing down sunset boulevard, headed for a doctor’s appointment, Barack Obama at the wheel, the dull red ball of the setting sun in our eyes. Squinting, I ask him why they call it Sunset Boulevard, and he replied

They call it Sunset Boulevard
‘Cause that’s where the country’s headed
The pedal’s floored, and floored down hard
The tires they are shredded
With our policemen off the street
The world has turned to others
But I will say and then repeat
The Muslims are our brothers
They mean no harm to you or me
They’re good and kind and gentle
My doc’s the man we’re off to see
He seems to think I’m mental
But that of course could not be right
I’ve never been more saner
And even in this fading light
I’m saner than John Boehner

Uncle Sam was once the world cop, the Sheriff, who kept the peace with a six gun on his hip and a confident smile on his lips. No more. President Obama has announced he is out of the Sheriff business and is turning the town over to the Chinese gang. Japan, Taiwan, South Korea and the Philippines are only now beginning to realize their big brother isn’t going to protect them from the school bullies any more, and are about to nuke up. Has the Sheriff just gotten tired of being the cop, or is demobilizing the US military and turning the world over to our enemies some Obama master plan? It’s high  noon and the Sheriff, now an old man, is taking a nap.

The sheriff moseyed up the street
A cap gun on his hip
A cane tapped tapping at his feet
Just so he wouldn’t trip
He’d just awakened from his nap
And heard the dreaded news
The Chinese rearranged the map
While he in office snoozed
His deputies knew they were next
And asked what should they do
The sheriff left them truly vexed
They knew the other shoe
Would shortly fall upon their heads
Would Sheriff Sam respond?
Or should they crawl beneath their beds
Wrapped in a deep despond
The sheriff stopped and made his choice
Took off his gun and badge
And said in a soft old man’s voice
I’m gittin’ outta Dadge

Richard Fernandez at the Belmont Club, the best blog on the web, says the Internet only serves as a mirror we hold up to ourselves, and we are not even sure the likeness it reflects is the true one. I spoke to the Internet just today and asked, “Who is the fairest of them all?” and this was the reply:

No need to ask, no need to stare
The fairest is Obamacare
A cruise ship tied up to the wharf
Compares not to this beauteous dwarf
So fair she is that young men leap
To buy her plans their health to keep
Her beauty shines on sick and old
Who love her dearly so I’m told
So lovely that it’s such a shame
She’s comatose and who’s to blame
But Georgie Bush and all his ilk
Who wrapped her in this shiny silk
And laid her in this pose supine
Apart from that she’s doing fine

Resistance to Obamacare and the Obama administration in general has been characterized as a form of Irish Democracy, defined as simply ignoring the authorities. When the Celts were pushed off the northwest corner of the continent of Asia by my Germanic forebears all those many years ago, they stopped for a spell in the rocky hills of Scotland and the green fields of Ireland, where they clung grimly to the last handhold before being driven into the sea, and in the process becoming as tough as nails and twice as ornery. The Scotch-Irish fighting man formed the backbone of the British Empire’s overseas military. So Irish democracy is a bit more than passively ignoring the toffs. My immediate family is Norwegian and German immigrant, but the family tree contains an Irishman who was with Washington at Long Island when only a providential fog allowed Washington and his men to escape certain death or capture.  Another Irish ancestor of mine fought in the War of 1812, though they have been peaceable, in the main, ever since.

Proud I am of my Celtic blood
As thin as it might be
For when the embattled farmers stood
They stood for you and me
The tapestry the people weave
Of deeds of great renown
Show Washington one Christmas Eve
Cross o’er to Trenton town
Yes Irishmen were in those boats
And bitter cold that night
With many without shoes or coats
No matter, they would fight
The Irish Brigade at Burnside’s bridge
The 69^th New York
The lads who fought Elsenborn ridge
With roots in County Cork
No passive’s not the word I’d use
When speaking of the Celts
They’re quick to smile but light the fuse
And you’ll wind up with welts

A New York lawyer making $323,000 a year has filed for bankruptcy, declaring that after alimony, child support, city, state and Federal taxes, plus normal living expenses, his net income is a negative number. And to think it wasn’t that long ago, geologically speaking, that I was living in a nice upper middle class neighborhood and supporting a wife, two kids an Irish setter and a power mower on $8,000 a year.

In days of yore
We all were poor
And learned to live without it
Three  hundred grand
Live hand to hand
And yet I truly doubt it
Put on a smile
Then go and file
Bankruptcy papers pronto
No one will care
Except that pair
The Lone Ranger and Tonto
They rode the West
And did their best
To help poor fellows like you
So get a grip
And take a tip
Let great horse Silver psyche you
You’re down and out
Don’t fret and pout
Climb back on top in stages
Obama’s there
And he does care
He’s raising minimum wages