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

Today, Hallowe’en, in the year of grace 2014, I have reached the curmudgeonly age of 85. I have no regrets, no wistful longings for the good old days. My life is filled with a wonderful wife and equally wonderful children and grandchildren. I worry about my country, and worry what kind of world my grandchildren will inherit. There’s nothing I can do about it, and so I often shut down the computer, give the words and rhymes a rest, and look out my kitchen window.

Beyond my kitchen window lives
A wondrous world outside
With creatures who know not that I exist
The squirrel who sits upon my deck
And wonders where to hide
The acorns so that they will not be missed
The blue jay squabbles with the cat
Who looks at him askance
And longs to sink her teeth and shut him up
The butterfly who flutters like
He’s just learned how to dance
The question mark that is my neighbor’s pup
The ladybug who pays no mind
To what is going on
Intent is she on filling up her day
With endless flights both back and forth
Until the light is gone
When finally she ups and flies away
I sit still by my window
Not a move and not a sound
Invisible I am to those outside
I see the squirrel’s jaws move with
Something that he must have found
And ladybug on pup has hitched a ride
I wonder why it is I find
Their actions seem like play
While I sit here and out the window stare
Wishing I could understand
What cat just said to jay
And wond’ring what I’d be were I out there

The famous Skunk Works at Lockheed, the inventors of stealth technology, the SR-71 Blackbird and many other black projects, has announced a breakthrough in fusion technology, and is now looking for financing. The breakthrough seems to be centered around the shape of the tokomak within which the nuclear process of fusion remain captive. We have seen these announcements before, and they have to this point been premature to say the least. Locking up the nuclear process that fuels the stars seems a bit beyond human capacity to manage. I prefer cold fusion as a power source, though cold fusion is beyond the horizon as well. Still, if the Skunk Works says they have something, we have to pay attention, though I have the feeling I won’t be changing the tokomak that powers a mining city on an uninhabited planetoid at the edge of a spiral arm in my sci fi novel Soliloquy any time soon. One thing is certain, though, and that is if anyone ever discoverers an unlimited source of cheap energy the government will tax it to the point of being non-competitive.

If this chimera isn’t an illusion
If ever we get energy from fusion
The government will leap to one conclusion
That something must be done and done real fast
We cannot leave untaxed this new creation
We must prepare the proper regulation
We’ll cancel every bureaucrat’s vacation
And get this thing tight hammered to the mast

There are people who consider Obama the Devil, and I confess that on occasion I was one of them. No more. Not after what happened. I was sitting on my sofa when I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye, and to my astonishment found a cool, handsome, familiar looking black man sitting next to me. He introduced himself, saying he was the Devil, and if I didn’t stop confusing him with Barack Obama he was going to get mighty pissed. And with a wag of the finger he said,

I much dislike to be compared
To one who seems to be so scared
Of tough decisions he knows must be made
A man whose judgment seems impaired
Disasters that are not repaired
I state the truth and call a spade a spade
But you look just like him, I cried
That secret sneer, so beady eyed
That I confess the Devil’s in my eyes
Respect the office, that I’ve tried
And yes it churns me up inside
To think that he’s the Devil in disguise
He smiled and said you’re not the first
To think that since the bubble burst
And people saw he’s just an empty suit
Believe me he might be the worst
The country ever has been cursed
Despite the fact Gwyn Paltrow thinks he’s cute
Ah well, he said, and rose to go
At least you know I’m real, not show
My mirror says it’s me not him as well
One day we’ll meet up down below
Be face to face and then we’ll know
And if he’s really me then what the hell

Obama has ordered green cards and other documents be prepared to welcome as many as thirty-four million illegal immigrants into the country. What happens when the newly elected Republican majorities in the Senate and House agree that thirty-four million third world immigrants is a good thing? What happens if the Republicans convince themselves that they can turn those people around and guarantee themselves a permanent governing majority? If they’re wrong Republican politicians can shrug and say so we’ll lose some seats, but what will the country lose? Do they even care that the country will lose? I suspect not, so long as the Democrat majority allows them to keep their perks.

Pablo and Juanita and their children soon will make
A solid contribution to the State
As what was once the US is a big third world mistake
The GOP will chortle This is great!
These folks in future generations now they have the vote
Will see the Grand Old Party as their home
And years from now they’ll vote for us if we don’t rock the boat
And then think of the votes that we will comb
Out of the barrios and shanty towns where homeless folk
Demand that cashing checks from Dems is cruel
And yes we know that there are people think this is a joke
But wait until we get these folks in school
In meantime we enjoy our role as patriotic foes
Of policies the Democrats embrace
And if it turns out badly for us well that’s how it goes
We’ll do just fine in endless second place