Category Archives: Verse

Tea Party

The Daily Mail Online reports 2 million people marched on Washington DC on Saturday, September 12^th, to protest President Obama’s radical left wing health care plan, and even if the number were only half that it would still be the largest tea party ever assembled. Tea Parties are an honest expression of the feelings of real people, working people, people with families who have seen the cynical way in which the Political Class disdains everything they stand for, how the Political Class thinks paying taxes are for the little people. The Tea Party people see trillions and trillions in debt stretching far into the future, they see a President who surrounds himself with haters like Bill Ayers, Van Jones and The Reverend Wright, a president who seems intent on turning the country into a socialist paradise that no one voted for, a government of radical left wing czars led by a radical left wing President. The question is, how long before the Tea Parties turn into a legitimate tax revolt? How long before the Tea Parties turn into a legitimate third political party? We already have the name: the Tea Party. And if a viable third party emerges, who will control it? “A Tea Party!” Alice cried. “How lovely!” We know who the mad haters are, but who’s the mad hatter?

A trillion here, a trillion there

A lot, but then who’s counting

But there are those of us who care

With indignation mounting

A Tea Party is what we need

To show the folks in power

That trillions aren’t chicken feed

And we aint gonna cower

In face of rampant spending debt

With next to come inflation

You run the place and that we get

But you are not the nation

We’re sick of all the phony guys

Who smile and steal our money

Who lie and cheat with quel surprise

Wet lips just dripping honey

The Treasury Sec he pays no tax

But gets confirmed no problem

He says the IRS is lax

But he’ll fix what is hobblin’ ‘em

Committee Chair who writes the rules

A man named Charley Rangle

Says rules are just for silly fools

Ya gotta have an angle

It’s getting so a man who pays

His tax on time while smiling

Must look askance at one who says

It’s not for me, this filing

You take our dough and give it to

Your friends and your supporters

To union guys and not a few

Of bankers and reporters

You plan to break us, but of course,

By turning all to debtors

And then you’ll ride in on your horse

Accompanied by our betters

While you, our president for life

Then paint the White House duller

Because el presidente’s wife

Just doesn’t like the color

Let’s organize, take our land back

The scum there need a jailin’

And vote out every left wing hack

And vote in Sarah Palin

The Day After

There was no post yesterday remembering the events of September 11, 2001, because obviously nothing happened on that day. The Democrats are now in power, and they and a Democratic president are pleased that whatever it was that was supposed by some to have happened on that day is now no longer cluttering up the official memory banks. We can all relax. Nothing to see here, move along. There are no Muslim fanatics trying to kill us. How could there be? They are, after all, disciples of the religion of peace. Let’s all go back to sleep, for we have more important things to do than worry about some peaceful young men in far away lands. Things like turning the United States into Mexico or Argentina. Things like destroying the finest healthcare system in the world in order to grow the power of the Left. No, nothing happened on September 11, 2001, for if there had been it surely would have been remarked upon.

El President, the smooth man said

I have the proclamation

The one in which the honored dead

Again remind the nation

Of that sad, sad September day

Of Muslims’ fierce attack

And how we all joined hands to pray

That they would not be back

Dear Rahm I know not what you mean

El Presidente sighed

For nothing happened at that scene

And no one really died

‘Twas all a ploy by that mad Bush

To get the people cowed

And bomb the folks of Hindu Kush

To make himself feel proud

But I will never fall for such

A dismal, dirty lie

And I have always said as much

And will till day I die

Now back to work we’ve things to do

The country’s in our hands

We’ve time to turn into Peru

Just like those other lands

Our mission’s clear dear brother Rahm

Tomorrow is the twelfth

Iran is closing on the bomb

And we must drink their health

Ah no dear Rahm, I make no speech

To honor our war dead

For doesn’t Holy Koran teach

That some things be unsaid?

I Hear The Train A’comin’

Rahm Emmanuel has famously said, “Never let a crisis go to waste,” a philosophy that led to trillion dollar stimulus packages and the government takeover of the banking and automobile industries. Now both Emmanuel and President Obama are scurrying around for another crisis they can use, knowing they need a crisis to revive the now dead socialist health reform package Obama is trying to sell to a country increasingly in opposition to his radical left wing moves. Emmanuel and Obama are fully aware that a for now mostly quiet Tea Party revolution among the middle class is brewing, principally over Obama’s proposed healthcare plans, and if left unchecked could result in a larger revolt against taxes and against the Democratic party itself. They are correct. Sarah Palin has energized the middle class, and a quiet revolution is slowly grinding down the Obama plan to turn the United States into a socialist paradise. Johnny Cash heard the train a-comin’, and so do Rahm and Barack.

I hear the train a-comin’

She’s rumblin’ down the track

I hear the rails a-hummin’

Rahm, the crowd’s on the attack

We need a crisis sure enough

We need one right away

They say that when the going’s tough

Well, you know what they say

I have a plan, your majesty

Mr. President I mean

To squelch Tea Party travesty

And drive them from the scene

We organize a corps of yoots

Young people don’t you know

The kind of guys don’t give two hoots

So long’s you show the dough

We set upon them with our fists

And axe handles as well

We know their names, we have our lists

We give them merry hell

The crisis then becomes at once

A crisis we can cure

We’ll have our dog and one that hunts

We’re back on top for sure

There is one thing, el president

That stops us from clear sailin’

It’s that Alaska resident

That goddamned Sarah Palin

She’s got the folks all in a twist

They don’t like what we’re doing

I think they just like to resist

I think they just like booing

Ah no dear Rahm it’s more than that

I hear it in the distance

The train’s on time, in nothing flat

We’re out on the insistence

Of people who don’t know or care

That we’re the ones who guide them

They can’t believe that we are there

To praise them or to chide them

I hear the train a-comin’, Rahm

A-rumblin’d down the track

I hear the rails a-hummin’, Rahm

And we ain’t coming back

Abdul Abulbul Amir

Richard Fernandez at the Belmont Club equates the President’s fight for socialized medicine with the comic song fight to the death between the Russian Hussar Ivan Skavinsky Skavar and the Turkish champion Abdul Abulbul Amir. The song is a putdown of the Russo-Turkish war of 1877, and is little heard or played today, and more’s the pity. Verse-afire has created an updated version, which we offer below. Click here to listen to the original 1927 version by Frank Crumit.

Miss Pelosi has said that she now has the votes

The Congress has moved very far

The Blue Dogs of course will be filled with remorse

Not so I. Skavinsky Skavar

For Ivan has teamed with the Democrat side

In spite of the disdainful sneer

From that bearded old man with the unnatural tan

His foeman Abulbul Amir

The House vote was close it came down in the end

To a Blue Dog from Tennessee bar

Who with faltering gait cast his vote very late

Hurried on by Skavinsky Skavar

It was then that the victors’ huzzahs turned to groans

As a fierce man tamped down the last cheer

And faced down the lout who had ended the bout

It was Abdul Abulbul Amir

The Sergeant-At-Arms cried his vote has been cast

It cannot be changed or denied

Then Ivan stepped in with a devilish grin

And strangled Abdul till he cried

They wrestled all night on the floor of the House

Pelosi first hung back in fear

Then with fierce flashing eyes she stabbed both of the thighs

Of Abdul Abulbul Amir

So the healthcare was passed by that one single vote

And the next day they named a new czar

Yes they plied him with wealth and they toasted the health

Of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar

But the story’s not over there’s more still to come

It will shock you and call forth a tear

Of the terrible fate that befell the once great

Abdul Abulbul Amir

He ran for the Congress himself in the Fall

He canvassed his district by car

He arrived in DC quite embarrassed to see

Speaker Ivan Skavinsky Skavar

SSN Saint Nicholas

Strategypage reports the Russian navy has named its newest nuclear submarine after Saint Nicholas. Do Russian boomers now deliver toys instead of missiles? Do the missile warheads now contain candy and confetti instead of thermonuclear destruction? Has the bear gone all cuddly?

Once upon a midnight dreary

Conning tower wet and slick

Santa rested, sad and weary

Bundled up like old Saint Nick

Seas a-pitching, quite precarious

Sack askew, his step unsure

Reindeer smirking, how hilarious

Periscope a distant lure

“Hold on there, boys,” the old man cried

“I’ve barely time to have a look

Though goodness knows I’ve tried and tried

To find that gosh darn address book!

This sure ain’t no forsaken roof

I think we’re on a submarine

Just look about you for the proof

I’m getting soaked and getting mean”

For warmth the reindeer stamped their feet

And shivered lightly in the rain

For hours now they’d faced defeat

As Santa tried the hatch in vain

“I’ll get in now, and I do mean

I’ll get in now, by Jiminy!

The problem is, a submarine

Just doesn’t have a chiminy!

They need a house,” he cried aloud

His arms thrust upward to the sky

“A house of which they can be proud

The best that gold can freely buy!”

Up popped the hatch, up popped a head

“I surely know the very one!

There’s lots of room,” the stranger said

“And lots of early morning sun!”

“And who are you?” the old man asked

“And how did I get on this tub?”

“Why I’m the man who’s rightly tasked

To captain now this lovely sub

So come aboard, it’s Christmas Eve

The crew and I are waiting

We heard you land, could not believe

And started celebrating

Just follow me right down this hatch

Be careful with your prizes

I see your bag has quite a batch

Of wonderful surprises”

“Can Santa down a hatch go, boys?”

The old man asked his reindeer

“Is it fair wide for bags of toys

And Santa’s favorite, Cane beer?”

The reindeer pawed, their heads they shook

They didn’t know the answer

“Why don’t you just go have a look?”

Piped up the one named Dancer.

He did just fit, though it was snug

And clambered down the ladder

He gave his beard a gentle tug

And said, “It doesn’t matter

It’s Christmas Eve and every one

Is eager for some cheer

I’ve something for each mother’s son

Including some good beer”

Then through the missile room he stepped

Amid the crew’s hubbub

As Christmas morning slowly crept

And blessed their little sub

El Presidente And The Kiddies

President Obama will address the nation’s schoolchildren today. Verse-afire has obtained an advance copy of the president’s address, which I now share with my readers. El Presidente For Life is keenly aware that the children of today will be voting for him tomorrow, as will, in time, their grand-children.

My children, firstly let me say

How pleased I am to be today

Addressing you, the future of our land

And I as president do ask

That you the future share the task

Of giving me the president a hand

In changing first our country’s face

By putting evil in its place

Those devils who would keep our people poor

The rich and even middle class

Who live in places where there’s grass

And will not see our healthcare is the cure

For all of us, both well and ill

And that is why I know you will

Inform on mom and dad and friends alike

Who might attempt by deed and word

To keep my truths from being heard

And if your mom gets jail you’ll get a bike

In closing let me say once more

That I will show you what’s in store

If all my plans to change the world fall flat

Your school will close, your dad will die

Your mom will leave without goodbye

And you’ll be all alone and that is that

Ice Cubes

In Britain, the Daily Mail reports a number of exploding refrigerators due to the substitution of green approved refrigerant gases to replace the non-green approved CFCs (Freon). The green-friendly coolants apparently leak out of the system and accumulate in the refrigerator, where they ultimately explode. This sort of thing always raises the question of how did the environmental whackos get so powerful that they can dictate to an entire population and any number of industries, from logging to refrigeration to fishing, to dam building, to global warming to you name it. The ban on CFCs is a case in point. The radical left-wing enviros created a crisis, claiming there was a hole in the ozone layer over the South Pole, caused by CFCs leaking into the atmosphere, when any high school science textbook would explain that the hole in the ozone layer over the South Pole was a purely natural phenomenon caused by the rotation of the earth and its magnetic field. Nonetheless, the fraudulent crisis must have served the Left, because it very quickly became observed religion, just as the manufactured and fraudulent global warming crisis serves the Left in their drive for absolute power.

So now my cubes are dangerous

The ones made out of ice

The whole thing seems so strangerous

And really not quite nice

And now there’s one more thing to fear

As midnight snackers creep

Into the kitchen for a beer

Before they go to sleep

The monster sits there quietly

A-humming in its way

As wifey thinks of dietly

Delights upon the tray

The dishwasher just sits and stares

The range is hunching low

They’re waiting knowing they’ll get theirs

If fridge decides to blow

It’s quiet now and all is dark

Another day is gone

When suddenly the range says Hark!

It’s coming up on dawn

They’ll be down soon it’s breakfast time

And fridge is sounding queer

And there, the clock, I hear the chime

And fridge said, mind the beer

For I’m about to blow this joint

I’m sick of being told

That I’m no good, and what’s the point

If I just can’t get cold

And that is how it ended as

The fridge took his last ride

And out he went with much pizzazz

And everything inside

Now covered all including range

And dishwasher as well

And all ‘cause whackos forced the change

To environmental hell

Everything’s Dandy Peachy

The world is running on fumes. The wife of the new Japanese prime minister, Miyuki Hatoyama, claims she once traveled to Venus, was abducted by aliens on another occasion, and knew Tom Cruise in a previous life when Tom was Japanese. She makes her own clothes, and is apparently particularly proud of a nice little frock made from Hawaiian coffee sacks. In Britain, one Peter Bryan, a schizophrenic who was convicted of murdering a woman with a hammer, was released to the care of a social worker and allowed to live by himself in London, where he killed two more people and ate their brains. G. K. Chesterton said, “When people stop believing in God they don’t believe in nothing, they believe in anything.” People believe in UFOs, magic, oneworldism, multiculturalism, global warming, sea monsters, fairies, Hillary Clinton, time travel, Nostradamus, Barack Obama, ghosts, vampires and werewolves. We now live in a society that has rejected God for Nietzsche’s Madman.

Being captured might be chilling

While to others could be thrilling

And especially if you get to meet Tom Cruise

Traveling from Earth to Venus

Is a little, just between us

Likely something that would make the evening news

The new Japanese first lady

Might not be Rosie O’Grady

But Kipling surely would have seen her through

But if it brings her happiness

To think Tom Cruise is Japiness

Then I think that there is nothing we should do

And as for the guy who eats brains of his victims

It is plain that social workers heed the dictums

Of people who know what to do with those

Who transgress the laws of nature with such crudity

Who think taking tops off heads is topless nudity

Who after dining lay them down in sweet repose

But God is dead or so says mein Herr Nietzsche

Not so! to Stonewall said our Barbara Frietchie

Our God’s alive and so’s our flag

And so’s Miyuki’s coffee sack rag

And damn it guys the whole world’s dandy peachy

All That Glitters

We are inundated daily with exhortations by TV pitchmen to buy gold, buy gold against the threat of inflation, buy gold against the fall in the currency, buy gold because it’s the safe thing to do. Gold is now selling for about $1,000 per troy ounce, as opposed to its historic price of about $20 per troy ounce, a price that obtained from 1774 to 1930. President Roosevelt took the United States off the gold standard and the price after that was $35 per troy ounce until President Nixon allowed the price to be determined by the market. The best thing about gold, besides being a very useful industrial metal, is that the discovery of gold in the 19^th century in Canada, Australia, the United States, South Africa and Brazil brought vast numbers of people to areas of the world they would not ordinarily have ventured into, and stayed there, many of them, creating new towns that either grew into cities or vanished as soon as the gold ran out.

To anyone wishing to compare the cost of $1,000 gold to the price at any time in the past, click here. (H/T Canoneer #4, The Belmont Club). According to one measurement, Babe Ruth’s 1931 salary of $80,000 was worth, in today’s dollars, $1,000,000. By other measurements it was worth twice to three times that, depending upon which index you use. By this measure, $20 gold was worth, in today’s dollars, either $250, $500 or $750, again depending on the index used. Does that mean today’s gold is overpriced and the hucksters are taking advantage of the current economic climate? Maybe, but comparing the price that obtained from Roosevelt to Nixon, the 1933 price of $35 was worth, in today’s dollars, about $450, $900, and $1,350, depending on which index is used. Read the whole thing and you will be just as confused as I am. In any event, whatever the cost, gold is not important in the long run. What matter if you die with gold but have lost your eternal soul.

The mighty Croesus rubbed his hands

He had the gold he had the lands

He had it made despite the Persian threat

The oracle divinely said

An empire would soon be dead

Poor Croesus ended up with deep regret

For gold alone will not delay

Thy destiny for e’en a day

And those who think it will are soon dismayed

To find their gold is just a weight

Upon the soul as worthless freight

When God in all his glory is displayed

So search you rivers, creeks and fields

For autumn reds and aurum yields

If lucky you may find a grain or two

But gold lies not beneath the ground

The truest gold is surely found

Inside of God and deep inside inside of you

The Politics Of Faith

Within the past few days several striking events have taken place with regard to religion in America. The Obama administration cancelled an Air Force flyover at an event in Idaho called the God And Country Rally, because the name of the event had the word God in it. This despite the fact that the flyover had been performed for the past 42 consecutive years, regardless of political party in power. President Obama then held a televised address to extend best wishes to all Muslims in America on the occasion of Ramadan, an address in which he praised the Muslim religion of peace, describing how he himself participated in the Muslim rituals. And in a conference call to an assembly of religious leaders of all faiths, Obama exhorted them to support his health care plans as a moral obligation. It would seem the Obama administration is willing to play along with religion if it looks like there’s a political advantage in doing so. It would also seem the Obama administration is very friendly to Muslims while taking a dim view of God and Country.

Obama’s faith is on display

He shows it in the manner

In which he says that we all may

Display the Muslim banner

But God forbid that Air Force jets

Show honor by our flyers

Reminding those who have regrets

For voting for these liars

That in November 2010

You’ll get another chance, sir

To run them out of town and then

That horrid boil we’ll lance, sir

The finish of Obama’s term

Will see him isolated

With impotence he’ll surely squirm

As his lame duck is plated

Then we’ll regain our country, pal

And we can stop our wailin’

As we vote in that strong, tough gal

The beauteous Sarah Palin