In light of Hillary’s typically Clintonian behavior re the emails and the foreign money coming in while she was SecState, behavior that reveals to all her conviction that the Clintons do not need to obey the law, the New York Times writes, rather sadly, that despite her problems the Democrats see no choice but Hillary Clinton in 2016. Nonetheless, there are those who wonder if perhaps age, weariness and problems may cause her to decide not to run. Lying abed, I dreamed I spoke to my friend Waltradamus about the Hillary problem for the Democrats, and what would happen if there were no viable candidate to take her place. He said the answer was simple. The twenty-second amendment does not forbid anyone from running for a third term, it only forbids anyone from serving as president for a third term. Therefore, the Democrats believe they can prevail over the Constitution by running Barack Obama, and if he wins again fight it out in the courts, where the twenty-second amendment will be struck down by the Supreme Court as unconstitutional because it does not apply to any other elected Federal official. Further, with the election tied up in the courts, who is the interim president? I woke covered with sweat and looked at the clock. It was getting very late for all of us.

My stomach crawled with giant worms
Barack Obama for three terms
And then a fourth, and then again
A life so long He reaches ten
Augusta now His private course
No golf cart He, a snow white horse
His subjects cheer as He rides by
Huzzah le Emperor! is the cry
The Capitol has been torn down
And every monument in town
Has been removed and in its place
Are giant marbles of His face
I woke again, a horrid dream
Before I recognized the scream
‘Twas Waltradamus, rigid, stiff
Unmoving as the crumbling cliff
Gave way before my frightened eyes
And very much to my surprise
The country tilted and the slide
Took state by state on its death ride
I woke again and day was here
Could such a thing be very near?
A monstrous, cruel and dark regime?
Of course not, it was just a dream

I have posited in these pages on more than one occasion that the United States is dividing, amoeba like, into two separate and distinct moral, cultural and ideological nations, the Southern half retaining most if not all of the founding principles of the United States and California, the Northwest and the Northern half becoming increasingly a hard Socialist state ruled by cliques of government unions, third world Mexicans and disaffected grievance minorities. I believe the division into two separate countries will be more or less peaceful, with commerce between the two, but like the amoeba, once fully separated, two permanent and distinct societies will emerge and stay that way for the foreseeable future, until such time as the hard socialist North, in order to solve its intractable problems brought on by historic inevitability, devolves into dictatorship, at which point the real crisis of the future nature of the United States begins. A nation divided amongst itself cannot stand, and force of arms will determine which United States will live and which will die.

A nation so divided
By nature is provided
The means to solve the problem in due course
One can resort to reason
Perhaps resort to treason
But if all fails then one resorts to force
But force means nothing’s settled
It merely leaves folks nettled
So say the folks who’ll say just let them go
But force resolves the question
And just as a suggestion
Just ask a Carthaginian you know

The world has never seen a leader like the Kenyan, Barack Obama, whose actions and inactions have transformed the world to a degree to which he could only have fitfully dreamed. In eight short years he will have accomplished much; the near destruction of the culture and history of the United States, and the murderous and rapid ascendance of Islam. A man borne by the gods, a man of broad reach and a broader grasp of the uses of power. A man of the people, but not of our people.

Has ever been a broader reach
A firmer, steel-tipped grasp
Two fierce lit eyes, a flint in each
Resolve a lock and hasp
The world has never seen the like
Of this tall Kenyan man
A fluid mongoose ‘fore the strike
Not since God’s time began
Alone is he with Jason’s fleece
Olympus is his home
His giant hands the hills of Greece
Fierce blazed with Styrofoam
The Kingdoms of the Middle East
Each one a Western foil
He single handed loosed the beast
And watched the deserts boil
So confident, a strong lip curled
The Kenyan firmly stood
Beside his self-created world
And blowed it up real good

The Western world has long accepted the web of lies that is Muslim propaganda regarding the nature of the Crusades. President Obama, at a Christian prayer breakfast, excused the Muslim atrocities of beheading and burning captives alive by proclaiming that Christians did even worse things a thousand years ago during the Crusades. Everyone, including Obama, accepts the thousand year Muslim propaganda about how the Crusades were a Christian assault on peaceful Muslims living contentedly in harmony with their neighbors on the southern shore of the Mediterranean. The truth is entirely different. When the Muslim Arabs poured out of their barren lands to conquer and enslave their neighbors far and wide, they swept westward across North Africa, taking the Christian cities of North Africa by fire and sword, killing the men and selling the women and children into slavery. The Crusades were a failed attempt to recover the Christian cities and lands conquered by an invading and murderous Muslim army. ISIS is not an aberration, beheadings and burning alive is the Muslim way of war.

The distant hoofbeats sounded without warning
And moments later Muslim sword and lance
Struck down the Christians leaving none for mourning
The peaceful Christians stood but little chance
The men lay dead regardless of their bravery
The women and the children beaten, chained
And marched to Araby and sold in slavery
And so it went till no Christians remained
The Crescent flag of Islam flew unhindered
The Great White Sea was now a Muslim lake
The Christian cities burnt and black and cindered
Yet plans were made those cities to retake
And so were born the Cruses and the Templars
Who fought for Christ and for the long dead souls
Who died but who in time became exemplars
Of those who would don Crosses for their roles
The Crusades were attempts to retake places
Where Muslims with great cruelty and the sword
Had killed wholesale, removing all the traces
Of those who followed Christ with one accord
The Crusades failed despite the Cruses’ valor
The Muslim held the southern shore for good
The Great White Sea had changed its name and pallor
And Muslim galleys sailed where’er they would
Yet still today the lie’s told as intended
The Crusades were destruction and cruel death
To peaceful Muslims happy and contented
The lie still lives, and told with every breath

The voting is over in the Israeli elections, and exit polls indicate that Bibi Netanyahu, the Prime Minister of Israel, will be defeated, a prospect so greatly desired by the Israel and Netanyahu hating Obama that he sent money and Democrat Party election fixers to Israel to defeat a sitting leader of along time faithful ally of the United States. Obama and his coven of Red Witches sit around the big table, and Obama says, “This one is a freebie, it’s done and there goes Bibi.”

The Witches smile one at a time
Amused by inadvertent rhyme
Obama shakes his head and says
“The man must go, he’s irked the prez
A man who dared to hurl insults
At me, a man who gets results
I’ll teach that pipsqueak who’s the boss
He’ll cry and moan after his loss
The world will see I’m to be feared
What’s that you say, he’s won? That’s weird.”

The orb spider’s web is a marvel of structural engineering and design. The silken strands are equal in tensile strength to steel. After securing the load bearing anchor cables she spins the connecting webbing, securing each secondary cable to an anchor cable, until the web is symmetrical, beautiful, deadly and complete. In the angle formed by the exterior housing of the fireplace and the side of the house, an orb spider is busily building a web of silken filaments so fine as to be nearly invisible, except after a gentle Spring rain, when the web, catching the sun, shines with millions of tiny, brilliant diamonds.

And yet within a hunter waits
Her patience never strained
She knows her world has many fates
And every one explained
She was not taught in school to spin
Possesses no degrees
Born complete and without sin
She builds with practiced ease
Catastrophe is but the way
Her life just seems to tilt
In her brief life most every day
Her home must be rebuilt
And cheerfully she’s back to work
Repairing severed strands
She knows that life is not a quirk
That all is in God’s hands

Due to popular demand, I am temporarily switching from political verse to Country music lyrics, with herein my first effort. Would send it to Waylon, but he is, well…..you know. Anyone with some spare notes and minor chords is welcome to put some music to it.

CORNFLOWER BLUE

The mind drifts back, the time retold
Alone, and she is too
Her hair the glow of sunlit gold
And eyes cornflower blue

I saw her standing all alone
A warm and Springtime rain
We talked and then I walked her home
We never met again

Chorus:

We never met again
No, we never met again
We never met again, oh Lord
No we never met again

The Springtime rains have come and gone
The days go slowly by
I knew that she was still alone
With only me to cry

I see her in my sleepless dreams
Her eyes, enchanting smile
So near, so real, or so she seems
Yet knowing all the while

That time would always be on hold
Alone, and she is too
Her hair the glow of sunlit gold
And eyes cornflower blue

On the eve of his ascension to the crown of Hauterania, the Queen Mother instructs young Prince Barack, in iambic pentameter no less, how to conduct himself in a manner worthy of his noble ancestors. In a quiet, sincere and whispery voice she says,

To be the King of all that one surveys
And rule the masses well and bear their pain
To set no cost on fairness one purveys
And never use your crown for private gain
To do these things and graceful do them well
To be the father mother of the realm
Then at the tolling of the vesper bell
The bards will sing of he who had the helm
Your best must be the best that best can be
Make proud the ghosts who live yet in your bones
Remember that you rule the land and sea
And teleprompters give words golden tones
A King must be polite yet strong and firm
Must take no sass from councilor or priest
You rule for life, no limit on your term
And revel in your name, Barack the Least

The Left calls us bigots, we who object to the turning of our country over to people who had no part in building it. The Left calls us bigots because we say “Enough of your diversity!” The Left knows full well why we have these objections. They know full well we object to the invited invasion of people from another culture and way of life because we know that unlimited immigration will, in time, result in the death of our country. Yes, the land will still be here, the Mississippi will still flow to the sea, the mountains will still rise in the snow-capped distance, but other people will be living here, with their own language and customs and laws, our customs and laws and history laid to dust like those of Nineveh and Carthage. The Left knows full well the reasons for our objections to what they are doing, for they are doing it consciously and with purpose. Unlimited Third World immigration holds a fascination for the Left, and they are quite content to turn the country over to outsiders in the belief that by doing so they, the Left, will inherit eternal wealth, power and authority.

To live like a king, you must be king
With those below to kiss the ring
And for that you’ll do anything
To make it all come true
The laws and customs of your kind
You discard as the musty rind
Of those who now are out of mind
A chapter men once knew
The rivers flow, the fields are green
And traces of the past still seen
Though none remember what they mean
Or what they’re meant to do
Oh yes you claim your rule is just
You’ve built a temple for the dust
Of those past days that surely must
Have loved a king like you

There are those who say that the Koran is a map, a list of murderous actions for the adherents of the religion of peace to follow, as it was said of Mein Kampf that it was a road map that Adolf Hitler intended to follow. Neither is true. Neither Mein Kampf nor the Koran is a road map to actions, but road maps to thought, for the deed follows the thought. I had a telephone conversation recently with a niece who lives in northern Virginia, in the course of which she said her neighbors were Somali Muslims who had lived next door to her for ten years, and who had suddenly taken to growing beards and getting fit. She said she was worried that they were getting ready for something. I have no doubt that if the something they are preparing for includes the slaughter of my niece and her family that there will be neighbors who will defend the Somalis and say my niece must have done something to offend them.

Mein Kampf is an idea, not a book
Not words on paper printed in black ink
But worms implanted like a baited hook
Into the minds of those who cannot think
Of anything beyond the present good
That he or she envisions as a right
The mind extends beyond the neighborhood
And drinks the evil darkness of the night
The fire of ideas sharply burns
Into the mind and plants the deadly seed
That turns to action where the actor learns
The difference between the thought and deed
Kampfwagons rolled across the rivered plain
Triumphant and exhilarated too
Inflicting death, destruction, sorrow, pain
Until the butcher’s payment bill came due
The bill comes due for all who cast the dice
And follow the religious zealot home
The blood of martyrs but the sacrifice
Demanded for the conquering of Rome
The Koran, like Mein Kampf is but the thought
The deed is consummated by the herd
Who die content with what their blood has bought
As all who die who change the thought to word