It has been reported that President Obama told a White House conference on Countering Violent Extremism on Wednesday that ‘Islam has been woven into the fabric of our country since its founding,’ something he has said in the past. There are those who roll their eyes and scoff at this as the delusional words of a true Muslim believer, but this scoffing and eye rolling must give way to recent scholarship. Marine archaeologists have recently recovered the wreck of the Pilgrim ship Goodwill off the Massachusetts coast, and were astonished to find that the name on her stern, still legible after all these years in the cold North Atlantic water, read Insh’allah, not Goodwill. The mistranslation of the Arabic God’s Will to Goodwill is completely understandable.

Documents dating from the American Civil War have been discovered in a Pennsylvania barn that clearly show the Civil War was a religious civil war between the Shia North and the Sunni South, an affiliation that gave rise to the formulation the Sunny South. After the Shia victory Imam Oliver Wendell Holmes predicted the Twelfth Imam would emerge from his well in the Christian year 2008, bringing about the end of days and the establishment of the world Caliphate.

And so the present is explained
‘Twas Allah from the start who reigned
The Founding Fathers standing in His stead
The Twelfth Imam the White House gained
A Christian leader he had feigned
And set about the country to behead
Soetero was his name at birth
But knowing that to rule the Earth
He needed something catchy like Barack
And cackling with an elfin mirth
The country’s sacred home and hearth
Upon ascension came under attack
The Twelfth Imam was free at last
Free of the well that held him fast
Now free to command all to Allah’s law
Obama boasted how he’d cast
Into the fire all the past
And all would feel the fury red and raw
The Twelfth Imam, Barack Hussein
A man so narcissistic vain
That he believes his very words inspire
The world to leave its bed of pain
And join the Muslims as they rain
Down death on all, to die by sword and fire

Some weeks ago the leftist elites of the civilized world gathered in Davos, Switzerland for a conference on global warming. There are far greater problems in this world than the doings of the faux elites of Davos and their global warming scam. Nevertheless, they invite mockery just for being who they are and who they pretend to be. One thousand seven hundred private jets have deposited our betters in Davos, in an attempt to coordinate tactics for their favorite game, destroying Capitalism and changing the economic system of the world to one more suited to their leftist tastes. It has been said of Royalty that Royalty knows nothing and forgets nothing, and the faux royalty of Davos are no exception. Poseurs they are, and when the ice is as thick as their heads they will come to understand that it is not they who rule the world. The Earth has been warming for the last eleven thousand years, beginning with the end of the last ice age, and will continue to warm, in fits and starts, until the beginning of the next ice age, despite what is said and decided at Davos. And for all we know the next ice age has already begun.

They toast themselves with bravos
Do the faux elite of Davos
Successors to the old ancien regime
The bejeweled, the glitterati
The well-bred, the literati
But the world may not be quite what it may seem
They dote on Global Warming
Despite the winter storming
And meet in Switzerland to play their game
By private jet they travel
To watch their game unravel
As ice and snow puts all their fears to shame
For ice is fair upon us
And while they try to con us
The ice caps grow and glaciers start their slide
There’s ice upon the river
In summer while we shiver
But Davos calls and once again they ride

In a free society Destiny is what you make it. In an unfree society Destiny is what someone makes for you. We are perilously close to becoming a relatively unfree society, in the sense that we are no longer completely free of government interference in the lives of ordinary Americans. Culture is learned, and is difficult, if not almost impossible, to unlearn, absent a catastrophic event. The culture of the United States at the moment is antithetical to the freedoms granted us by the Founding Fathers, and I suspect the generation of twenty and thirty somethings has little concept of what it was to be completely free. Indeed, they believe they are.

 The life of man reflects eternal
Circles of the sun
A man is born to freedom or to strife
He moves through cycles of his life
His journey never done
While circling ‘round the central point of life
A thousand years of tyranny
Gives way at very last
To moderation then to freedom’s door
And tyranny is thought to be
The very distant past
Where destiny is wretched, sick and poor
As freedom follows tyranny
So tyranny returns
And man again impaled upon the horn
Of tyrant’s crown and lance and
Once again man sadly learns
That destiny lies where and when you’re born

There are those who will tell you, with deep satisfaction, that God is dead and man is thereby released from the bonds of superstition. But God is always dying. The gods of the cold northern forests are gone, yet they are not truly dead, but merely asleep beneath the snow. The gods of Assyria lay beneath the ruins of the ziggurats, waiting for the day they will wake. Aristotle did not believe the god he believed in was superstition. God is real, by whatever name, for man must believe in a greater power than himself or he is nothing, will have come from nothing and will return to nothing. Rome abandoned its gods for the cult of Hercules and was returned to God by Constantine. As so the cult of secularism will go the way of all cults, and God restored.

The temples rise above the plain
To glisten in the sun
For only god can bring the rain
Or see that life’s begun
The northern forests snowbound slept
In silence and the cold
Yet men still knew where Wodin stepped
And knew the message told
Alive they were to those they led
No superstitions they
And yet today we deem them dead
In deepest sleep they lay
And so it was until the morn
A stable filled with joy
And unto us a child was born
A tiny baby boy

Secretary of State John Kerry said that the U.S. expects to achieve a deal on reining in Iran’s nuclear program within three or four months, and suggested that an agreement could be possible months sooner than previously anticipated. There is nothing wrong with making a deal, so long as the deal is between equals and it is not made in bad faith. Our problem is President Barack Hussein Obama has agreed to the terms set by Iran eighty percent of the time, and seems to be acting in bad faith in everything he does.

The deal is done! cried Ribbentrop
His words made all the presses stop
With deals like that who needs a cop?
We know what happened next
The Nixon White House, truth to tell
Knew what would come and knew quite well
That peace would mean that Saigon fell
The treaty a pretext
The Mullahs smile and all agree
The deal with Barack soon will see
The hidden Imam well and free
Thanks to Barack Perplexed
A deal ‘tween equals can be struck
But if your guy is Friar Tuck
Hussein and John you’re out of luck
Disaster runs unvexed

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