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

French economist and bestselling author Thomas Picketty proposes that the wealth of the Western world be redistributed to the Third World through a progressive global tax on wealth.

General Piketty looked steadily across the field, studying the silent mass of blue atop the hill, flags limp in the summer heat, his fine regiment of Virginians awaiting his word. “We can’t ask men to storm them heights, General,” an aide cried. “They ain’t been paid in three months. Where do we get the money?” “A tax!” General Piketty thundered, and the Virginians started across the field, into the as yet silent guns.

Why pick on Mr. Piketty
That’s just much too persnickety
Just leave the man alone
He thinks that’s not my bank account
It’s his to take whate’er amount
Up to what all I own
He hates the rich and loves the poor
And so he’ll even up the score
The seeds already sown
Us workers had it up to here
And guys like him have much to fear
That bird’s already flown

I grew up reading science fiction which led me to science non-fiction which led me to Arthur C. Clarke and his early 50s examinations of the nature of the coming exploration of space. Has anyone been to the Oort Cloud? The Kuiper Belt? Alpha Centauri? I have, many times, for imagination is the sleekest, fastest, most powerful space ship ever built. In my mind’s cloudless eye I saw the golden apples of the sun.

Alone, his children fast asleep
He stood, as dawn-light broke
Upon the shoreline of the deep
And to him Eos spoke
I am the bright winged torch, she said
The lighter of the way
I turn the night sky gold and red
And darkness into day
Beyond lies all that one may wish
Beyond that paradise
Apples gold in golden dish
And knowledge more than wise
Just close your eyes and come with me
The stars are yours to brave
Come journey on the restless sea
Come ride the golden wave
He closed his eyes and saw the stars
So close, so fiercely bright
Behind him sped a distant Mars
A winking, dimming light
Beyond! cried Eos with a laugh
Beyond the stars themselves!
Beyond us lies the other half
Where God alone now delves!
Eyes closed he stood upon the beach
The sky now washed with blue
The stars no longer out of reach
The golden apples true

Jimmy Carter has never wavered from his opinion that all the problems in the world can be traced back to the Jews. French President Hollande stormed out of the ceremony in Paris honoring the dead in the Muslim attacks on Charlie Hebdo when Netanyahu began to speak. Obama openly favors the Palestinians and excoriates Israel for defending itself. There is not a lefty Western leader who would shed a tear if the Arabs or anyone else killed every Jew in Israel and obliterated what the French have called that shitty little country.

With toothy grin he breaks the news
For Carter it’s always the Jews
Obama is of same accord
Hollande too is right on board
Enraged by Bibi being there
He gave the Jew an icy stare
And so it is and so it goes
When crisis comes the ranks all close
When lefty leaders have to choose
The fault is always with the Jews

In a democracy the two party system is a two-edged sword, or maybe a two handed game, where the contestants, the two political parties, are easily identified and the players, the voters, are fundamentally divided by their IQs, a selection process dictated by nature, for by definition one half the populace has an IQ below 100 and one half the population has an IQ above 100. The lower IQs tend to gravitate to, and vote for, the party that promises them things they value, like checks and government cheese, while the higher IQs tend to gravitate to, and vote for, the party that promises them things they value, like freedom and opportunity. The contest is essentially even, but when enough high IQ voters become enchanted with the smiling, good looking, smooth talking snake oil salesman, guess who wins.

Democracy, I will admit
Has much that’s recommended
And in return it will permit
A freedom that’s pretended
The people put in office, men
And women will then harden
Their grasp on power and who when
Arrested get a pardon
It matters not that thieves and crooks
Adorn the halls of power
They smile and slyly cook the books
And watch the money shower
But all this matters not a whit
So long as they deliver
The phones and checks they’ll be a hit
A sugar daddy giver
It’s all just a two handed game
The IQs no divider
When highs elect to their great shame
The low IQ provider

A recent survey of young Japanese men and women showed an astoundingly high percentage are uninterested in sex or marriage. After Hiroshima and Nagasaki you can’t blame the Japanese for shying away from nuclear families. And there is much to be said for a soft, warm, always smiling, no backtalk blow-up doll, although I understand the Japanese are working on a sex doll that sits in a corner and sulks if you touch it. In the United States more and more young men have taken to living in bubbles, living their lives on the internet, deterred from interaction with women by vicious feminism, thus avoiding the harridans altogether. As for avoiding the harridans by retreating into bubbles, I believe the feminist menace is overstated. In Sweden a feminist led campaign to force men to pee sitting down was defeated, and all the male politicians who supported it were unseated. I spoke to a man who had a different view of things, and he said feminists were hostile and aggressive because deep down they want to be slapped around.

A woman is a woman
But a good cigar’s a smoke
Was said by a wise man some years ago
It got a laugh, a giggle, grin
And taken as a joke
Just goes to show how little did we know
That years would pass, the women rise
Men’s mastery grew short
And women would not bow to master’s whim
Believing that their bodies
As sustained by every court
Belonged to them and never more to him
And so was born the feminist
Who cried she would not bow
To any man not even if he’s cute
Her body was her own and not
A man would tell her how
She’d use it for a man was but a brute
And thus we have a coterie
Of quite unhappy girls
Whose teenage years are bleak and full of pain
Whose only choice is whom to hate
And which foul word she hurls
The plaudits of her friends her only gain
Ah no my friends, do not retreat
To bubbles snug and tight
The feminist deserves your love, not scorn
Invite her in, profess your love
And if you treat her right
She’ll make you wish you never had been born