The Obama administration is not only female-centric, but high school female centric, as witness spokespeople like Jen Psaki, who is daily charged with telling lies for the State Department and the Obama administration. We all know how plain looking high school girls dread Valentine’s Day, in fear they won’t get any. Ever kind, I send little Jen a belated valentine in appreciation of her courageous attempts to keep the lies she is forced to tell somewhat believable.

Dear Jen,

I thought I’d write a few short lines
In case you get no valentines
We understand how straight haired girls
Must feel ‘mid all those golden curls
And so to show our kind regards
We hope you get a lot of cards
But if you don’t we’ll feel your pain
And let me say that we would deign
To say we love you a whole bunch
And love to take you out to lunch
The press corps can be mighty rough
But you can handle it, you’re tough
You answer questions with a smile
And twinkling eyes that just beguile
Those ink stained wretches of the press
Who try to put you under stress
With questions that give you a fright
And make you seem you’re not quite bright
But I know that is by design
So please, Jen, be my valentine

Walt

Valentine’s Day 2015

We pledged to each the day we met
That never we would part
The love we shared we’d not forget
Two loves but just one heart
The days fled by, some pain the while
But somehow we got through
With just three words said with a smile
A simple I love you
The years have flown so quickly by
Some sunshine and some rain
But through it all, through low and high
Sweet memories remain

Susan Rice, one of Obama’s Marxist witches, delivered a speech in which she told us just how brilliant was the Obama strategy of Strategic Patience, a new name for leading from behind and doing nothing. When I was a small boy, doing the things small boys do, I relied on the strategic patience of my parents to avoid punishment. I learned how to play the game, and so, one by one, accumulated a number of small victories. Yet I was not harmed by the withholding of punishment for small transgressions, for my parents loved me, and knew that I would turn out all right. The female-centric Obama administration, beginning with the she-male at the top, evidently believes that at bottom all the world loves the little boy named Barack Obama, and will see that no harm comes to him.

Small boys think while being bad
That words will oft suffice
To turn the wrath of mom and dad
By showing them you’re nice
And so as Barack grew up wild
Unchastened for his deeds
In adulthood he’s still a child
With all his childish needs
A need to be the brightest star
That lightens up the night
The need to be loved from afar
The need to win, not fight
The need to be the smartest boy
The world has ever known
The need to make the world his toy
A crown and golden throne
Such little boys can never see
That bigger boys than they
Will take him with impunity
And make the small boy pay

I have, over the past few years, occasionally posited the idea of the elephant getting tired of the ants biting his ankles and finally stomping on them. The problem for the ants is they don’t know when to stop. Enough mass murder, enough beheadings, enough kidnappings of girls for sale into slavery and enough slaughter of innocent schoolchildren, and something begins to stir deep within the gut of the elephant, a stirring far removed from the worldview of the leftist mahouts. The reaction of the American public to American Sniper is akin to the sudden deep rumbling of a hitherto peaceful volcano. The ants are about to get stomped on, though it won’t be by us, not yet, but as always it will be up to the American elephant to rid the world of the scum.

The pachyderm, of rumpled skin
Is placid till aroused
When something happens deep within
Down where his soul is housed
The ants believed that no response
Meant elephants are weak
Inaction by us corresponds
To silence being meek
The ants believed the Leftist West
Too timid to fight back
They did not know put to the test
The thin veneer would crack
The stages of the process run
Discomfort, hate, then rage
The punishment for what they’ve done
Makes turning of the page
From peace to war to killing zones
No quarter giv’n nor asked
What heretofore was done by drones
To bayonets now tasked
The Muslim killer made his bed
And in it he shall lie
Unlimbed in fury, not yet dead
Till all his comrades die
War elephants are slow to rile
But hatred turns to rage
The ant will win for but a while
Until the final stage
When armed men from the enraged West
Put finis to the war
By killing them at our behest
And Islam is no more

The Muslim ants are biting the ankles of the Western elephant. In the sixteenth century the European countries bordering the Mediterranean were in abject fear of the Ottoman Muslims, who raided their coastal cities and sold the inhabitants into slavery. But one man changed all that in one afternoon. Don Juan of Austria disobeyed his King’s instructions to not risk the Spanish fleet and led his ships to the Ottoman anchorage of Lepanto and defeated a superior Ottoman fleet. The battle of Lepanto was a hinge of history, the beginning of European dominance and the beginning of the long Muslim slide down the smooth highway to irrelevance. The time will come when a modern Don Juan will disobey the orders of his collective sovereigns and put a dramatic and catastrophic end to what is, on its face, a nuisance, allowed to live only on the sufferance of our current leaders and collective western mood. But in the end, the elephant allows the ants to bite his ankles only for so long until he absentmindedly stomps on them.

Ankle biter
Freedom fighter
Call him what you will
Sooner later
There’s a crater
Where there was a hill

A group of guys who could not pour a concrete patio without outside help, a seventh century suicide cult, is allowed to run wild, beheading and burning people alive, all without any serious attempt to stop them by powerful and civilized neighbors. If they kept the beheadings and burnings among themselves no one would care, but when they behead and burn others, then it is time to send them off to the promised virgins. A young Napoleon, faced with a violent crowd, ordered his gunners to fire, saying, “Give them a whiff of grape.” Cannon loaded with grapeshot dissolved the crowd. We have more effective weapons now, but the idea is the same. A whiff of grape does wonders when liberally applied.

Boots on the ground, oh my, the dread
Diplomacy will fix it
We’re winning hearts, Obama said
A little ipse dixit
A whiff of grape will wonders do
The virgins they are lonely
Not seven, no, not even two
Perhaps one virgin only
To go around for such a crowd
All cramming into heaven
When just one tiny mushroom cloud
Means no one will get seven

Everyone has a little Walter Mitty in them, but most of us don’t have a national microphone with which to inflate our egos. There is something going on inside people like Brian Williams and Hillary Clinton who tell us, with a charming aw shucks it was nothing attitude, how brave they were in an imaginary crisis that was apparently all too real to them. As a guy from Siam once said, Is a puzzlement.

For Williams this here little fuss
Will not a hair on his head muss
The hive will circle wagons ‘round
The witnesses will ne’er be found
Remember Rather and the fake
Documents his mucker rake
Dug up with which he meant to smear
A president and very near
Succeeded but for bloggers who
Showed that the fakes were just not true
The choppers seem to stir the mind
To thinking all of us are blind
And take their word that dangers lurk
When choppers drop them off to work
The Hillary once told the tale
Of how she made the snipers fail
By calmly taking from a child
Some flowers, driving snipers wild
No nothing happens to these folks
Their lies are treated as small jokes
They’ve played upon the rubes for laughs
They’re always heroes to their staffs

I spoke to Phileas Fogg today, and he was definitely out of sorts, not at all the upbeat, optimistic man he was just eighty days ago when he set out in a hot air balloon to circle the Earth. He said things were not going well within the magic kingdom; the number of working elves was steadily declining and the number of layabouts demanding the elves work harder increasing exponentially. He said if he could have tapped into the political hot air he could have made the trip in half the time.

He said the EU’s had it
And sadly he had bade it
A toodle-oo, a fond farewell, goodnight
To hear them all was sunny
But other people’s money
Was now a thing to which they have a right
As eastward we were soaring
Below the clans were warring
The one demanding a new caliphate
The other says the Mahdi
Will gather everybody
Into a magic, peaceful Muslim state
We crossed the shining mountains
Where Kubla Khan’s gold fountains
Lay broken and the mare’s milk ceased to flow
The Chinese skies did blacken
Her factories not slacken
And smoke hid all from sight that lay below
The land of the Bushido
Where all thought it was neat-o
The country had determined suicide
Was now their only future
No geisha hootchie-cootcher
They work but let the robots now decide
A long trip the Pacific
I’ll say the view’s terrific
On crossing high the California shore
Like Greece and Venezuela
The pols will never fail ya
They’ll tax and spend till everybody’s poor
We saw the land of freedom
Was now the land of me-dom
Where ethnic groups demanded their fair share
Where fair share means the lion
Gets all because it’s my’n
You’ll pay back what you stole till you are bare
Where there was no more debate
Every sentence now is hate
While Mullahs smile and close in on the bomb
Barack says that wars have ends
And the peace of God ascends
And killings and beheadings not Islam
There he paused and softly sobbed
We are done, we’ve lost, been robbed
Of our culture and our ordinary lives
By the Leftists now in charge
Who have killed us, small and large
Of the peoples who have raised us from the hives
To the heights of science, art
From the rude huts at the start
To where we fly at will to distant Mars
Leftist dogma, Leftist cant
No debate just Leftist rant
Till once again we see the distant stars
As points that just mark light
That perplex the deepest night
And the rude mud hut looms closer every day
He sobbed once more and paused
Said the problems all were caused
When we let those Lefty bastards have their way

Someone suggested recently that a Deadwood Institute be built to commemorate the immense sums of money spent on government failures. I spoke to a man from Deadwood, home for a time to Wyatt Earp and Wild Bill Hickok, and he was outraged that someone would equate him and his fellow townsmen with failure. He said:

I’ve lived in Deadwood all my life
First with my parents then my wife
I sent my kids to public school
Where they were taught the golden rule
We been here since the West was wild
And that’s why I’m so doggoned riled
We mind our business, work real hard
We take care of our house and yard
When rough times come we clear the decks
Ain’t no one here gets welfare checks
A kid I was, still had my hair
I sat in Wild Bill Hickok’s chair
A winning hand, aces and eights
Next thing he knew, the pearly gates
The wife says you just leave us be
The only deadwood here is me

Western Europe, under the benevolent European Union, is a strict gun control entity. In light of the Muslim attack on Charlie Hebdo that killed eleven people and a simultaneous Muslim attack on a Jewish delicatessen in a Jewish neighborhood, killing four, a prominent Jewish Rabbi asked if the EU would permit Jews to carry weapons for self-protection. Why is Israel still free, still alive? Because they have guns. Will the EU grant its Jewish citizens the right to defend themselves against murderous Muslims? Don’t be absurd. Of course they won’t. The last thing the Palestinian loving EU wants is Jews with guns. Maybe we should reinstitute those old WW2 weapons drops, complete with BBC code words.

If in 1943
Would Nazis then have felt so free
To walk up stairs without a care
While knowing guys with guns were there
Guys destined trains for Sobibor
Guys primed to shoot right through the door
More peaceable would be the Huns
If all the Jewish guys had guns
Fast forward to the present day
The Muslim Huns are here to stay
They kill the Jews just like before
Not bothering with Sobibor
But Nazis, Muslims, both are Huns
Someone will see the Jews get guns
To let the Muslims fear the worst
That Jews with guns will just shoot first