In 1853, in the run-up to the Crimean War, London‘s music halls rang with a rollicking and defiant song, with the crowd standing and roaring the tag line, “The Russians Shall Not Have Constantinople!” It is ludicrous to think of a present day London theater crowd standing and roaring defiance at anything at all. Nor will there be defiance from an American audience so long as Obama is president.

The music hall, the Internet
Are really just the same
A place where sober people met
To plan and play the game
For those who owned the music halls
And told us what to sing
And those who made the midnight calls
And told us what to bring
The game was capturing the flag
A small step will be fine
And if the Other seems to lag
Then it is Auld Lang Syne
Miscalculation can ensue
The game is always fraught
And then the piper’s pay is due
For lessons now untaught

I spoke to a recent college graduate today, asking about the wisdom of allowing grown men who claim they believe they are a little girl to use the school shower facilities with little girls. Her mind having been freshly ploughed at great cost by a prestigious university, she was astonished that I would find something wrong with that, and fairly screamed,

A person has a right to be
Whatever gender he or she
Decides is best for him or her
And there’s no reason why a stir
Be made because a male who’s nude
Bathes with girls, that’s why a prude
Like you should be ashamed to show
Your face and just to let you know
I’m boiling mad to hear such hate
And furthermore just let me state
The courts en banc ruled just today
Identity is what you say
You are in fact whate’er you wish
A polar bear, a petri dish
A teapot or a childlike gnome
I’m so upset, dad, take me home

The United States Justice Department is threatening the State of North Carolina because of a North Carolina rule that says public bathrooms and school and college restroom and shower facilities are to be used by people whose gender is written on their birth certificates. The Justice Department insists that grown men have a civil right to use the same bathroom and shower facility as little girls. A biological male wrote on the door of a stall in an Obama mandated all gender bathroom, “I hate grils.” Underneath that someone wrote, “What’s wrong with us grils?”

No longer is one’s gender fixed in place
Biology is roughly overturned
One’s gender is a choice as much as race
The Left is getting what it much has yearned
Destruction of the norms of Western life
The turning over all we once held dear
A man can take a husband, woman, wife
To question is to live a life in fear
Retaliation is both sure and swift
The loss of fortune, children taken, job
The Left sees loss of liberty a gift
They’ve given to the unwashed stupid mob

With Donald Trump’s smashing victory in Indiana and the suspension of the campaigns of Cruz and Kasich, Trump is now the presumptive nominee of the Republican Party, though many in the Republican hierarchy are very unhappy. In the meantime, Hillary Clinton, anointed by the Democrat establishment, cannot put away Bernie Sanders, a 74 year old Socialist who spent his honeymoon in the Soviet Union and proudly says he is not a Democrat. Hillary, in addition to being the most robotic and insincere candidate in recent memory, is waiting to hear from the FBI about the mafia-like machinations of the Clinton Foundation and her mishandling, either purposeful or accidental, of classified and top secret material that endangered the security of the United States. It seems a slam dunk she will be indicted and perhaps tried, but this is politics and you never know. In any event it would seem to guarantee an interesting if not exciting summer leading up to the conventions, where we might very well be astonished at the outcomes.

The gavel quiets down the hall
And speakers rise to speak
We tune it out, we’ve heard it all
Yet we will watch all week
Because a frisson of unknown
Will keep us glued to sets
In both conventions what is shown
Is as good as it gets
For when surprises are in style
Will Hillary be there
Or will she be in durance vile
And if so will you care
And as for Donald will the Pubs
Deny him what he won
And rig the vote so that the scrubs
Have their day in the sun
What happens when the pictures show
When all the votes are in
The smiling face of Rubio
And Biden’s goofy grin

Hillary Clinton has been bothered with a hacking cough for some time, and while it seems of little concern to some, it is of much concern to me. It isn’t the cough that bothers me, it’s the hacking. The best thing about computer voting, according to a Democrat friend, is that the votes are there to be counted any way you want them counted, so easy it is to break into the servers and manipulate the totals. He winked and said, “But of course we would never do such a sneaky, underhanded thing.”

The Dems come out attacking
The guy the Pubs are backing
Though venom they are lacking
Because they know the score
Adept at vote hijacking
In ballot boxes packing
In recent years it’s hacking
That wins the race for sure
The server locks they’re cracking
They’ve ducks lined up and quacking
Pub totals they’re unstacking
And placed in the Dem store
The RNC is wracking
Their brains at the shellacking
And cry as they’re unpacking
Their victory once more

We have lost something very special, something wonderful. We have lost the American dream. It was not Obama alone who took the dream from us, it was decades of leftist ideology that prepared the way. And yet the dream is only lost, not dead. We shall, out of love for our country, of love for liberty, again climb that hill where sits the shining city of remembered dreams.

I dreamed we walked together
Through a glowing golden mist
We thought would last forever
And all tyranny resist
We walked through cool green clover
To the hills so far away
But the dream by then was over
And alone in dark I lay
Thinking that the dream was real and
You were yet my country still
And my heart and soul would heal and
We would reach that far off hill
When again we’d walk in dream mist
Over cool green clovered fields
Toward the hills so far and sun kissed
And the golden dream glow yields
To the land we walked together
In the distant wondrous time
When we promised that forever
To the highest hill we’d climb
This short dream will soon be ending
For you’re with us every day
And the future we’ll be spending
On that hilltop far away