Speaking at a hearing into the Brussels attacks, the Belgian deputy prime minister, Jan Jambon, warned against Europeans “making an enemy of Islam” describing it as “the worst thing we can do”. The participants also heard the warning that Muslims will outnumber Christians in Europe in the very near future, so Europe must prepare for it with acceptance and grace. These people have already surrendered. Consider Germany, the largest and most powerful economic State in Europe. Germany has a 2016 population of 80 million, with about 8 million foreigners, and the smaller countries have ethnic populations versus Muslim populations of about the same proportion. And yet government ministers are arguing that Muslims will soon outnumber Christians in the very near future, and so it is better to surrender now before Europeans make an enemy of the Muslims. They are so infected with Leftist ideology they are prepared to turn a blind eye to the reality that Muslims already consider the Christians as mortal enemies who must be eradicated by any means necessary. There are more than enough Europeans to take care of the Muslim problem, but the question is: Will the Europeans fight or will the Muslims finally take over Europe after 1400 years of continuous warfare?

The problem is that Europe’s men
As well as Europe’s women
Would rather eat a rotting hen
Or suck on a persimmon
Than fight for country honor bound
For being taught in school they
Despise the very name and ground
Of history so cruel they
Deny the right of Europe’s folk
To fight and kill another
They much prefer the Muslim yoke
Embrace him as a brother
Accepting bondage as their lot
For crimes of those before them
Surrendering without a shot
To Muslims who abhor them

Wikileaks claims that Soros and USAID, via the Organized Crime and Corruption Reporting Project, directly funded the Panama Papers report that claimed to unveil the system in which Putin and his cronies shuffle money and power through a Panamanian corporation shell, along with similar behavior from a vast array of political and economic players, including British Prime Minister David Cameron. I seriously doubt the Panama Papers will have any effect on any of these billionaires and politically powerful people, but if there is effect, and the authorities are serious, as I also doubt, then guys like Soros and Putin and assorted billionaires may well sing the following song in the loneliness of the deepening darkness, though each will have to provide his own melody.

In sleepless nights I think of when
We built our shells in deep disguise
So happy were we once, back then
Yet still they dance before my eyes
Offshore they sit, so it would seem
Just waiting there, a lovely dream
The darkness wraps me in its cloak
I drift away in tortured sleep
Of Panama but when I woke
I knew the shadowed taxmen would
Take all I had if they but could
Of what was mine to keep
And in the dark returned the theme
Of that great tax free lovely dream

The long awaited clash of civilizations may well be upon us. The goal and dream of Islam to conquer the West dates back to the 7^th century, and they will not stop until they are either the conquerors or the conquered. If it comes to a fight to the death, I believe we will prevail, but in doing so we will emerge from nuclear catastrophe a different people, with different views and different gods, for the old ones will have been destroyed. That the Kurds have recently turned to Ahura Mazda is no surprise. Zoroastrian was the unofficial religion of the Roman Legions for many centuries, and the Kurds naturally feel something greater than Obama is needed in their time of great peril.

The gods still sleep beneath the snow
Or deep in mountain rock
They stir at times when felt a blow
Or feel a temblor shock
And yet they wait for know they well
That man will one day call
When air is rent and oceans swell
And iron built nations fall
They wait with patience for the day
They walk the northern wood
And dervishes will have their say
In language understood
Survivors gather ‘neath the henge
And in the burning sun
To cry their god for sweet revenge
And then they’ll get a gun
And kill their neighbors whom they blame
For desolation, woe
And once again we start the game
For that is all we know

In a large, nearby tree, I hear, late of a sleepless night, a lone mockingbird, singing his heart out, for what I do not know. He is occasionally answered by someone whose call he has just run through, though the answerer always seems a bit annoyed at being wakened at such an hour. That Mockingbird reminds me a bit of Carl Rove and his little whiteboard full of abstract numbers that purport to tell, in numbers and his mocking voice, how he and other members of the Republican establishment intend to keep their comfortable little game going by denying the nomination, by fair means or foul, to an unburdened outsider like Donald Trump, even if by doing so they elect a Democrat. It is all the same to them if the president is a Republican or Democrat, for their only concern is the continuation of the golden game of money and power, and it is their deathly concern that with a President Trump they will lose them both.

Pale moonlight was enough to see
When into sight he hove
And settled lightly in the tree
The Mockingbird, Carl Rove
High in the tree he sings his song
The darkness is his friend
He sings to all to come along
To see this campaign end
Without a nominee in place
Before convention start
For that is where we start the race
And you can do your part
Don’t vote for Trump and we will see
A contest on the floor
Where all the delegates are free
To vote through ballot four
And at which time we’ll call the name
Of whom we want to run
And thus extinguish that Trump flame
And ruin all their fun
We know the Party we will be wreck
But we will come back strong
Another Dem but what the heck
Can possibly go wrong

The difference between a contested convention and a brokered convention is enormous. A contested convention is fair, a brokered convention is not. The conditions for my dystopian prediction of four years ago that Obama would run for a third term have gotten better with the Republican establishment planning for a brokered nominating convention in order to deny Trump the nomination. The Republican establishment of course denies the charge, but if they do unfairly and by trickery and back room dealing deny Trump the nomination, Trump will run as a Third Party candidate. My prediction was that Obama would create or seize upon a crisis to run for a third term in order, he will claim, to save the country, and let the 22nd Amendment be fought out in the courts after he is sworn in. A brokered convention would ease his path to another four or eight years in the White House, with a split Republican Party with a Perotista candidate. Consider again just the domestic crises he can take advantage of: Loretta Lynch indicts Hillary and Trump walks away after a rigged brokered nominating convention takes an earned nomination away from him and runs as an independent. Beginning to seem not quite so fanciful anymore. Could Trump win a minority election under such conditions? He could, and we might then see the dissolution, as we know them now, of both the Republican and Democratic Parties. I fully expect to live to be 115, and so this possibility is not something I would welcome, but would probably enjoy writing biting verse about the Trump Party and its seeming irreversible hold on power

Convention suits in browns and blues
First ballot firmly pledged
To Trump and Kasich and to Cruz
While others, unpledged, hedged
First ballot winner not emerged
The second ballot’s free
The delegates toward someone surged
Who could that someone be
The Party bosses took command
The winner, we surmise
Will be someone real close at hand
To whom they hand the prize
The Democrats meanwhile have found
With Hillary in jail
That delegates are now unbound
The winner up for sale
Obama soothes the restive crowd
By throwing in his hat
Despite the fact he’s not allowed
To serve a third term that
He clearly wants above all things
To finish off his job
Becoming first of Yankee kings
To huzzahs from the mob

Green is the color of Islam. Green is the color of every Islamic flag. Islam has been determined to conquer Christendom since the seventh century AD, when an Arab army first laid siege to Constantinople. Defeated, they returned some years later to be defeated again by Greek Fire. It took them more than seven hundred years but in 1453 Islam finally took Constantinople, the key and gateway to Christian Europe. Today, Europe is no longer Christian, and no longer willing to fight for their freedom or for the ashes of their fathers, and certainly not for the temples of their non-existent gods. A generation earlier Europe was advised that it was better to be Red than dead, and today they are advised to believe it is better to be Green than mean.

When Muslim killers blow up trains
Kill children at their play
Instead of rage there simply reigns
A sense that any day
Someone will grab a gun and shoot
A Muslim in the street
Outraging all who think the root
Of Muslim rage replete
With anger at the Christian world
That dared resist so long
And conquered as the bagpipes skirled
And sang a jaunty song
But this is now and that was then
And Islam is no threat
So say now Europe’s leading men
Now we repay the debt
We welcome Islam to our hearths
Speak no unkindly word
For there has never been two Earths
Religion is absurd
We will not die for such a thing
That superstition scene
Nor die for country nor for King
It’s better Green than mean

The standard model of the world, as seen by both American political parties, is false, a fantasy. For both, the standard model of the world shows a gigantic United States surrounded by tiny nation states colored red and blue and orange, surrounded by Terra Incognita. The Democrats believe that by acquiring eternal political power through plantation votes they will transform the United States into that socialist utopia that seems always just out of reach, while the Republicans believe that by hitching a ride on the Democrat wagon they will keep their vassal status intact, insuring a continuing semblance of political power as well as the perks and comforts that go with being subservient enablers. Both are terrified of Donald Trump, because they know the people are ready for revolution, and it takes only one determined man to start one. The only question is, will it be a peaceful revolution or not.

We see the tumbrils in our minds
The passengers of differing kinds
We see the guillotines set high
On distant hills against the sky
Onlookers watch, some sob, some gloat
It all depends on how they vote
But who has lost and who has won
We’ll know at setting of the sun
As tumbrils stop beneath the planks
Where stand the blades in serried ranks
The baskets ready for the feast
Of heads of those who are the least
Of all the vermin who have lied
And fleeced and stole on that big ride
Of power, influence and greed
As far away the blades with speed
Complete the revels in a way
Although an onlooker might say
That doesn’t it seem very strange
That nothing seems at all to change

We hear of the doom of Western civilization because Caucasian women in Western Europe, the United States and elsewhere, have elected not to have babies, driving the birthrates seriously below the replacement level of 2.1 live births per childbearing-age woman. The 2.1 number is the number of births required to maintain the population level. Any number above 2.1 leads to an increase in population and any number below 2.1 leads to a decrease in population. These numbers are variables, depending on the circumstances in which a population finds itself. Currently, because of the rise of feminism and the birth control pill, the birth rate in the West is below 2.1, in some cases, such as Italy and Spain, far below, leading some to cry that we are heading for ultimate extinction. But species extinction is not decided by birthrate per se, but on how long the low birthrate continues. A species becomes extinct when its numbers fall below a given level, where there are no longer enough individual members of the species to maintain the existence of the species. The West is nowhere near that. Just because the birthrate in Spain is around 1.3 live births per childbearing age woman does not mean coming extinction, for there are still millions of Spanish people to maintain the population level well above near extinction levels. Think about it for just a moment. There was a time, just 2,000 years ago, that the estimated population of England was 4 million, while today the population of England is 53 million. England has a current birthrate below replacement level, but it would take thousands of years of steady low birth rates to reduce the population to 4 million again, and they would still not be anywhere near extinction level. Birthrate is a variable, and while a current seriously low birthrate is a cause for concern in a social context in which fewer young people are available to pay for the social contracts governments have given to its now older populaces, it is not a cause for panic.

Grandmothers outnumber the kids
But kids will grow with age
To be adults in measured time
When grandmas leave the stage
Till presently imbalances
Reverse as they will do
And stable populations rise
Though numbered by some few
And yet those fewer numbers are
Still greater than the past
When war, disease and hunger ruled
Yes, humans will still last
In greater numbers than before
Though fewer than they now
Live cheek by jowl in squalor and
Just pray it isn’t ciao

Au revoir, auf wiedersehen and goodbye. Or, put another way, ave atque vale. French, German, English or Latin, it all means the same – it’s over. The long and mostly illustrious history of the European people who gave the world common law, orchestral music, art and science, medicine and technology, is coming to an inglorious end. Britain is already a third world country, Sweden is already lost to the Muslim, the German Chancellor insists on national suicide by Muslim immigration, the United States will soon be bi-lingual and balkanized, and the latest French government statistics show that twenty-five percent of all French teenagers are Muslim. Assuming these trends continue, and there is no indication they will not, Muslim fertility and a below replacement European birthrate leads inevitably to Western Europe being majority Muslim in two or three generations, with no escaping the calamity.

There is no if but only when
A man just shrugs and says that then
He’ll say goodbye to all of that
And don his coat, put on his hat
And close the blinds and lock the door
And see his homeland nevermore
Internal exile is the lot
Of those who think that what he’s got
Is his by right and thus secure
From others who can see that you’re
A weakling man who will not fight
For home and family out of fright
That some will see a rightward trend
That says that all are not your friend
And so Geert Wilders died in vain
With Muslim killings all in train
While killers laugh at the supine
Elites insisting all is fine
Goodbye to you, the land of birth
Of greatest men to walk this Earth
Charles Dickens, Einstein, Bohr
Martel and Marlowe, many more
Puccini, Verdi, Mozart, Bach
Krag and Mauser, Enfield, Glock
The list is long, the time is short
The Pill, the culture-led abort
Has led to this sad, sorry state
So au revoir, it’s goodbye mate

There was a time a building would not have a numbered thirteenth floor, but designate the floor directly above the twelfth floor the fourteenth. So it was with an elderly building in Newark, New Jersey, except this building does indeed have a thirteenth floor, accessible only to the national and international establishment political and economic elite, who meet in the palatial suites of the non-existent thirteenth floor in times of crisis. To all appearances there is no thirteenth floor, no elevator stop for a thirteenth floor, but just off the lobby, at the far end of a narrow and dimly lit corridor containing toilet rooms and utility spaces, there is a locked door marked Electrical Closet, Do Not Enter. Yet, if one has the proper key, one can open the door and step into an elevator that will take you directly to the thirteenth floor. Which is what a man from a certain city on the Great Lakes has just done. The room quieted as the man entered, for they were waiting for him. On everyone’s mind was the question, What do we do about Trump.

The man accepts a glass of wine
Yet sips it not, for time was late
He said results from Florida
Have shown the nature of their fate
It’s Donald Trump
Another cried he can’t be stopped
Sweat beading large upon his brow
He is not owned, he’s not of us
Stop him we must, but tell us how
To stop this Trump
There is a man, the first man said
Who’s very quick and sharp of eye
A word from us and he will come
And after, many men will cry
For Donald Trump
But we shall keep the reins in hand
This fellow will not shape our will
The GOP establishment
Will see to it the man is still
This Donald Trump
But they have tried, another sobbed
And all have fallen by the way
The voters have now made it clear
That it’s all over from today
Blast Donald Trump!
The media, the first man said
So quietly that no one heard
Though all the lies they mean to tell
The people won’t believe a word
They say ‘bout Trump
What can we do, they cried at last
He’ll break our rice bowls from the start
No more the graft, the gravy stops
Our friends in Congress will lose heart
Damn Donald Trump!
This time we’ve lost, the first man said
But bide our time and we shall rise
But he was wrong, for it all ends
At the firm hands, to no surprise
Of Donald Trump