The world seems to be in a fragile state these days, but fragility is in the eye of the beholder. Napoleon thought Mother Russia fragile, but underneath she was solid, unyielding ice. Hitler thought Britain was fragile, and she was, with Beaverbrook and others clamoring for a rapprochement with Hitler, but underneath lay the strength and steel of Churchill. And so it goes. The United States of Obama looks, to outsiders, to be fragile, but just below the surface sleeps a giant fist with a giant hammer. Let the pissants of the Jihadi world boast of destroying America. Let them brandish their fists and flap their bearded lips. Let them try it and they will not live to regret their mistake.

How fragile is this tiny stone
That circles round her sun
Far from the center, all alone
Led by Barack the One
Who boasts of his accomplishments
Such as the Arab Spring
Where all he did made just no sense
Unless he meant to bring
About the ruin of the West
And most of all of us
In furtherance now of his quest
He’s loading up the bus
And driving to a better day
When Babylon’s blue skies
Had magic carpets to survey
The world through Islam’s eyes
Yet in his dreams of faith restored
Obama surely sees
America that he abhorred
Is mightier than these