Thursday, 31 December 2015

Letter to the Ed (self-censored) Final version!

How extraordinary to see this famous individual, - first seen months ago on the other side of the world via international media, owing to the tragic mishap which befell his very young son whom he had courageously put into a small boat as he set out upon open and perilous seas, with no other motive than a good life in a Western welfare state - such a hero! - now arriving not just in my own country but virtually in my own backyard. It’s a small world, is it not? And that was a very small boat on a very big sea, was it not?

Friday, 25 December 2015

Update

Like all cats, lions, too, nine lives are given;
And thus Trump, king of beasts political,
Of his allotted share has eight now riven:
Of McCain's guts he was most cynical,
And Meg's blood, Carly's mug, too critical,
Then Christian Carson mocked and called mendacious;   
Twin towers lies (which proved veridical!),
And gestures which the Times declared "outrageous;"
Then Muslims banned, and Clinton canned: this cat's's tenacious!

Notes: Spenserian verse: eight iambic pentameters followed by a last hexameter; ababbcbcc
What Hillary should have tweeted:

# DT criticizing my "disgusting" trip to the john:
Piss off!

Sunday, 20 December 2015

Trump vs Hillary:Fantasy Debate

Ladies and gentlemen, Americans and peoples of the world, tonight we present to you, live and without moderation, the political battle of the century, a polemical armageddon for the nation's soul: Donald Trump, billionaire and television persoanlity, against Hillary Clinton, former Secretary of State and wife of former US president. And now without any more preamble, let the debate begin!

Trump: Ladies first! (Gesturing)
Clinton: How polite! - (under her breath) and chauvinist! But we all know Mr. Trump's real attitude
              toward "ladies," I think.
Trump: On the contrary, madame, I have never expressed any point of view regarding females in  
             general, but I have said things about individual members of your sex. And I stand by them
             now.
Clinton: So women are still fat pigs to Donald Trump. (Gesturing toward Trump as she looks at 
              audience)
Trump:  Some are, as are some men. Does that mean I'm now waging a war on men? How does  
              disparaging one or two women constitute a wholesale insult to all women? Sounds to me like      
              you're trying to put your sex up on a pedestal beyond criticism. Is that what feminism has
              come to?
Clinton: Insult isn't criticism, sir.
Trump:  No, but it'll do in a pinch! (Laughter)
Clinton: Ha ha! When a man attacks a woman's appearance, it's because she doesn't come up to his
              exalted standards of sexual attractiveness, which is the result of the gender stereotyping
              which people like you traffic off of in those ridiculous so-called beauty pageants with their            
              false conception of beauty. That's why it's an insult to all of us who are still struggling to
              break through the glass ceiling. That's what feminism is up against and that's why I'll always
              be a proud feminist. (Applause)
Trump:  And so the quick way through the glass ceiling is up on a pedestal. Or is it via the altar?
              (boos and then applause)
Clinton: Are you implying that I made my way by marrying my husband? I find that offensive.
Trump:  I hope you didn't marry anyone else's husband. (Laughter)
Clinton: I find that offensive!
Trump:  But do you find it true?  Quite honesly, Ms. Clinton, would anyone outside of Little Rock, let
              alone Arkansas, have ever heard of Hillary Rodham, attorney at law, but for the fact that she  
              married a future pesident of the United States? Get real, Hillary! And by the way, before you
              start villifying Miss Universe, you might look in the mirror and note how you seem to be
              emulating that "false conception" of beauty yourself.
Clinton: I am real, Mr. Trump. Right to the liberal roots - your roots, too, by the way, Mr. Trump. So        
              what if I wear make-up and dye my hair! Don't we all, sir? (Laughtr and applause)
Trump:  But the rest of us are not complaining to Time that it's an unfair expectation put on us by
              others. Who's forcing you, proud feminist that you are? Don't tell me - it's the same people
              who forced you to go under the knife a few years back to pare back the years, nothing flase
              in that!. Lady, you've got the cheek - or rather, you  had the cheeks! (Laughter)
Clinton: And you've got the gall, to insult my appearance like an overgrown schoolyard bully!
              Typical bullying Donald Trump. (Applause)
Trump:   Oh, right, that's the media line: whenever any man trumps a woman in debate (laughter) he
               is immediately assailed for "bullying" her. But bullies are people with an unfair advantage
               over their victims, aren't they? Do I have an unfair advantage over you, Hillary?
Clinton: Only in the hot air department, sir. (Laughter)
Trump:  Hot air, hey? Well, to vary Harry Truman's old adage - If you can't stand the heat, feminists,
              go back to the kitchen!
Clinton: I  find --
Trump:  Yeah, let me guess: you find that offensive.

to be cont

Sunday, 13 December 2015

Anonymouse

Item: Anonymous shuts down Trump site

We are Anonymouse - and you are our fiefdom,
So forgive us our goofs, forget about freedom;
You fought a thousand years to take rulers to task,
And now we'll rule you from behind a mask.

Saturday, 12 December 2015

Once again, Trump is given a golden opportunity to strike a wide-open enemy but instead reverts to form and sputters out a bit of innocuous name-calling. If the attack had come from any other country, then, fine, sputter on. But Saudi Arabia?  Here's what "dopey" should have tweeted: 
Ah yes, Saudi Arabia: home of the original 9-11ers, Wahhabism (read: ISIS), beheadings & where Bibles are banned."Disgrace" about covers it!

Wednesday, 9 December 2015

Feeding Frenzy

When in the jungle of political arenas,  
Was mighty lion not hated by hyenas?
And when, the more the king proclaimed his kill,
Did spite and mad dismay not turn more shrill?

Monday, 7 December 2015

Correction!

Trump is grousing over why Obama continues to refer to ISIS as "ISIL." A quibble? Perhaps not.
           The latter term was the one originally used by the media until it was discarded by almost everyone in favor of the more accurate term. The "ISIS" designation underscores the Syrian dimension of the threat, whereas "ISIL" embraces a wider but more vague conquest of the entire Levant. It was ISIS itself which corrected the media on the usage.
            These semantic niceties, however, do not explain Obama's perverse insistence on using the outdated term. As always, in politics, politics itself is the main explainer. 
          Obama knows that he can't control ISIS, so he instead wants to control our perception of it - and of him. Using the quirky "ISIL" suggests that he knows something the rest of us do not know, since we don't even know the correct terminology. When he uses the term, and during the recent spiel he used it a lot, he seems to be subtly trying to correct his critics, not just on usage but, by implication. on strategy itself. He's the authority around here, if you please!
         "ISIL" was what the US administration and the rest of the world called the group during its infancy, when it was, perhaps, still manageable and might have been nipped in the bud. Alas, to the world's misfortune and Obama's chagrin, it was not.
           Clearly, Obama, who hates being corrected, would like Americans to perceive the threat as being still relatively small, distant, and contained. In the alter-reality which he increasingly inhabits, it's still a JayVee, ISIL world.
            
       

Sunday, 6 December 2015

Left at the Station

Aboard a train in the station, we may think our ride is pulling away from the one sitting opposite to us, until its caboose suddenly flies past the window and out of the station, leaving us gaping in surprise at the power of sight over sense. The liberal media across the border is under a similar illusion. For months they've been telling themselves that the Trump Express was going nowhere while their iron horse sleepers were puffing steadily ahead. But Trump's mainline has finally pulled out of the station like a bullet on business, and there they are, rubbing their eyes in disbelief, still serenely oblivious to the fact that it's the ground that's moving, right under their two left feet.

Saturday, 5 December 2015

Vatic Verses

The day is coming, be assured,
that sees our foes expelled;
and as that day's deferred,
more shall it rage unquelled.

Then will our cities reel
with hate and mad turmoil,
that we like weeds should feel
upon our native soil.

The day is coming, doubt it not,
when the invaders flout
all law, and blood will blot
the name of justice out.

Then shall cruel laws oppress them
who now their past disown;
and blasphemers come to bless Him
whose words forestalled the stone.

The day is coming, past question,
the writing's on the wall -
when journos from spin's bastion
abet the crescent thrall.

Then shall our Judas scribes
scream Shame! at those who balk;
even as they're led away,
First to the headsman's block!

The day is coming, be it known,
as migrants freely roam,
when thought's a no-go zone,
and Freedom wants a home.

Then traitors may collude
against their creed and race,
for future dhimmitude
when all must eastward face.

The day is coming, be forewarned!
when lines are drawn, sides taken;
when old beliefs are mourned,
and new resolves awaken.

Then monsters bred while reason slept,
We will as masters rout,
And who by false words crept
In shall have but one: out!

 ****************************

Friday, 4 December 2015

The Lion and the Hyenas: a Parable

The king of beasts had just despatched his quarry,
And stood exulting in his trump of glory,
When he himself discovered in extremis,
Surrounded by a pack of howling hyenas.

They yelped and laughed and jibbered and derided;
As some attacked his rear, others blindsided;
But though relentless in their vicious chase,
None dared confront the monarch face to face.

Their teeth were styli and their claws like quills,
But their first weapon was their hellish shrills;
For who so brave, and what their pride and prowess,
Who say this gang of gigglers cannot cow us?

But though they cried "he's ours" at every snatch,
The spotted brood at last had met their match
In the gold-maned triumphant jungle lord,
Who drowned out all their drivel when he roared!

Each swipe of his formidable right paw
Proclaimed the jungle's just and supreme law,
Which, all the howling press of brutes despite,
Ordains that fight and fight alone makes right.

Friday, 20 November 2015

The Five Hollows of Islam

  
Five pillars quarried from Mahomet's cave,
Undergird Islam's stony architrave;
And each compelling beam conceals a pit,
whose emptiness confines the Infinite.
Haj  
The first sub-text negates the Golden Rule,
                 whose godly glimmer sets religion's jewel;
Travel to distant shrines seeking the blest,
but self in others sought is man's true quest.

Prayer
A second crater hides the grave of Conscience,
          whose cancellation makes religion nonsense;
That heavenly chime which resonates in man ,
Is drowned out by the deafening adhan.

Alms
 Forgiveness, flower of faith, has never blown
 where Rule's hell-bent on casting the first stone;
                  Largesse enough to fill a prophet's grave,
 won't win the mercy that one never gave.

Fast
Freedom, foundation of all moral action,
rots in the dungeon of the will's extraction;
      Ramadan's end makes pious souls rejoice,
yet still the spirit famishes for Choice.

Shahada
And last discovers Islam's darkest hole,
a damned annihilation of the soul,
in whose void hatred's black apostle throve -
Not ever fathoming that God is Love!



Notes
Five Pillars: as listed above each set.
Cave: Hira, legendary site of the Koran's inspiration.
Haj: the unique pilgrimage mandated for all believers.
Adhan: Muslim call to prayer.
Ramadan: Muslim month of daily fasting, ending with a celebration.
Shahada: Islamic vow of initiation: "There is no allah but Allah and Mahomet is his messenger (or prophet)."

Memo

Item: Hillary Clinton defends Islam against imputation of radicalism.

to: HC
from: DT
message: Thanks!

Thursday, 19 November 2015

Bon Appetit!

The Morlocks have had their chow.
The Eloi are safe - for now!
There are friends missing that were here last Friday,
But soon their memory will die away;
the bars and bistros beckon, entrer!
Back to the theatre and ballet.
Back to the class where the sterile brood,
seduce les mademoiselles  comme d'habitude;
The markets and boulangeries are full,
And the banlieue's adhan is barely audible;
Have another cafe au lait, definitely!  
The croissants are absoulutely heavenly!

But soon the Morlocks will grow hungry again,
Having acquired un gout Parisienne,
and from the shadows they'll come as before,
To batten under the croissant du mort.

Sunday, 15 November 2015

Illiberal limericks 6

Now, there was a young PM named Justin,
Whom the country had just put its trust in,
When he made a mad vow,
To let in 25 thou
"Refugees," - it was frankly disgustin'!


Friday, 13 November 2015

Too Dumb for Tears

What's the French for deja vu? Oh, right! 

Last year they were Charlie and pathetic. This year they're just plain contemptible.
For decades we've watched the French defy all common sense and human experience by letting an alien and hostile creed take root on its native soil. And when the inevitable happened, we watched them water those insidious shoots - no pun intended -  with tears of self-pity. Poor Frenchie - not! 
         I have no pity or solicitude for a country that deliberately brought such havoc upon itself, and that even now refuses to acknowledge its own complicity in the atrocity. And that blame is twofold. For while it let the aliens in, France let its own culture and heritage dry up at the roots. First it lost its faith, then it lost its mind. Finally, it lost its will to live. No country on earth expends so much energy boasting about its culture, and yet no country on earth does so little to ensure the continuance of its culture into the future - by having sufficient numbers of offspring to pass it on to. The Muslim "migrants" are merely an unacknowledged in lieu of answer to the national sterility count. Every Parisian bitch tediously boasting that she's an "intellectual" rather than a mere housewife can look on the monsters shooting down her friends in the cafes and theatres as her own foster children. The void of her womb created the demographic vacuum that's sucking in these migrants like a low-pressure front sucking in bad weather. People question why feminists won't decry the Islamists, but how can they denounce their own progeny? The personal is political, after all.
      The French are decadent. And, like most decadents, they are incapable of reform. Pleasure, not happiness, is the decadent's credo, and passivity is his ideal. True happiness entails struggle and even some suffering, and the French are past struggling. When Paris's tears are tears of remorse for five decades of willful ignorance, accompanied by a resolve to never again shed tears over the Muslim invaders who, even now, are flooding into France and the rest of Europe, then and then only will I express any solidarity, much less sympathy, with this miserable excuse of a nation. But if they ever do change, the struggle and sacrifice are waiting for them:
Task1: Elect the National Front -  just do it! Hollande has "declared war" on Daesh. But the real war is against Islam itself. Only Le Pen comprehends this fact. 
Task 2: Exterminate Daesh - now! All-out war or nothing.
Task 3: Have children - lots of children. 

Last spring, the French were scoffing at US reports of no-go zones in Paris. Soon all Paris will be a no-go zone. France and all Western countries should put a moratorium on all Muslim immigration. And the Muslims now living in the West should be encouraged to depart ASAP. Islam and democracy - especially democracy informed by Christian perspectives - do not mix. And they who attempt to mix them will get only what they've always gotten: blood and tears.
    Hollande is vowing a "pitiless" response to ISIS. But pitilessness, like charity, should begin at home. And Marine LePen is the only politician with the resolve for this. 

And speaking of dumb! Putin, the great spy master, head of KGB and man of a thousand-and-one exploits, starts a war with Daesh but leaves his  civilian flank wide open for the inevitable blindsiding. Never mind that the Russian tourists were mad to go into the Mid East in the first place. Ya ne ponimaya!


Saturday, 7 November 2015

Illiberal Limericks 5


  "Because it’s 2015"

Because it’s 2015, it is fit
That cabinet gets evenly split;
With Justin heading all,
Came the roll call:
Half men, half women, half-wit!

Because it’s 2015, diversity's in:
With just the right liberal spin,
He’ll score brownie points
For each hack he appoints
Based on the cast of their skin!

Because it’s 2015, shout hurrah!
We just won the Christmas draw! 
So look under the crescent,
For Trudeau's little present,
Tra la-la-la-la, la la Allah!

Thursday, 29 October 2015

Epitaph

Here lies Old Europe, prostrate, spent and ashen,
Renowned once for its culture, science and art,
Til it turned sickly with excess compassion,
And died most pitiably from a bleeding heart.

Sunday, 25 October 2015

Illiberal Limericks 4

Now, conservatives own they're hard put,
To say if The Donald's rightwing to the root;
But on guns they're consoled,
He likes uncontrolled:
He's always shooting himself in the foot!  

Saturday, 24 October 2015

ZURUCK!

As Europe's gardens fill with migrant sand,
And freedom's vine begins to fade and die,
None the sirocco's searing force withstand,
Save them who the invaders thus defy:
"Zuruck! Zuruck! Back, whence you came!
This is our home, nor yours to claim!
Your brazen breach we shall not brook,
So to your self-made hell Zuruck!" 

Then from the ruins of Church and ancient form,
A voice is heard above the crescent storm:
"People! before decrying borders' breaching,
Condemn the folly of your over-reaching.
Zuruck! Zuruck! Back, whence you came!
To keep your land, your faith reclaim!
Heed history's just and stern rebuke,
And to your sacred roots Zuruck!"

Saturday, 10 October 2015

Childe Rand to the Trump Tower Came

"Nobody in America wants some sort of buffoon who insults women and calls them ugly. Nobody wants that." - Rand Paul

It is ye royal jousts and the good knight Sir Rand the Virtuous has taken the field against the Black Buffoon, Sir The Donald of Trumpland. And he doth approach his damsel, the fair and chaste Maid Carly of Hewlettland. "Prithee, fair maid," quoth he, "Wilt thou bestow thy favour on me, that I, mayhap, shall discomfit the base pretender who has dared besmirch thy honour with his most unseemly insult?" And the great lady offered the valiant sire her kleenex, stained with piteous tears, saying, "Take this favour, my champion, and may God's grace guide thy poll." And Sir Rand drew up his doughty charger, an olde elephant, trained in all the chivalrous arts, and raised his emulous poll toward that foe most foul, the Mogul of Mammon. For the villain had impugned all womanhood, including the queen herself, Hillary the most high, and also the beauteous Megyn, she of the purest blood, whose noble consort, the brave scion of Fox, had lately fallen before the Black Buffoon's prowess in battle. And, lo, the two contenders then did charge each at the other. But, alas and alack, the hufty-tufty trumpster did use his infernal cunning to knock the good Sir Rand into the dust, breaking his poll and calling out to the vanquished knight with haughty disdain,"Forsooth, you're fired!" before riding past the inconsolable daughter of fortune, Carly, taunting aloud, "Byr lady, what a face!" Then the blackguard fled that dismal field, victorious yet again, charging away toward his great bastion, Trump Tower. A mighty fortress it is, high in the clouds, impenetrable, where few mortals can follow without a private jette. And now the woebegone lady was sore afflicted with grief for her fallen defender, and did swoon most piteously, for none were left to take up her most sacred cause, the cause of womenfolk who must remain on the pedestal of double standard privilege if they are ever to break through the most dread and accursed Glass Ceiling. Ah, well a day, that such a fair damsel should pine away!
    
Prejudice, like dietary salt,
In excess causes states of health to halt;
But what about too little?
Better we hew the middle,
Than make our constitutions free to a fault.

Wednesday, 7 October 2015

Jihad's Journos

            The Sixth Pillar
Upon Five Pillars does stern Islam rest:
Alms, fast, prayer, haj, and the shahada solemn;
Yet garners in its conquest of the West,
One more submission: media, terror's fifth column.

Wednesday, 23 September 2015

Illiberal Limericks 1

 Pope on a Rope         
Verily, I say unto you, that it is easier for a rope to pass through the eye of a needle than for a denier to enter into the kingdom of Climate.
                                   
                                    Now there was an old pontiff named Francis,
Who kept pace with all leftward advances:
On climate dogmatic,
But on morals erratic -
No one knew what the devil his stance was!

 On abortion he warned of obsession,
But CO2 was a cause for confession;
And no brimstone for sods,
The fault was all God's,
For sulfur's far worse a transgression.

To the ladder of heaven he clung,
While exalting the world's bottom rung:
But wealth's creation
Was abomination: 
A carbon footprint in the devil's own dung. 

Migrants were the love of his life,

And making Europe with refugees rife;
But when Crescent's green gloss,
Eclipses the Cross,
His own flock will be under the knife. 

Though he made the conservatives balk,
They were helpless to turn back the clock;
To deniers he was frigid,
And he banished the rigid
From the Church that was built on a rock.

Oh, the media and he made a pair,
A most scandalous love affair!
Til at the altar he bowed,
And his services vowed
To the prince of the power of the air.

 Now it's true many thought him a bore,
And to some he was Babylon's whore;
But let who is without ozone,
Cast the first ho-stone:
Go and incinerate no more!

Friday, 18 September 2015

Message to a Brother

(texting)
Hey, brother, what's new? Got any bread?
Allahu, brother. I'm on my way to a house we took over.
Took over?
Yeah! This old dame let a few of us in to help her. Then we told our friends and they told others. Now we own the place!
Didn't she call the police?
Nah! Too afraid. We told her to stay in the cellar.
What about her kids?
Never had any. Barren as a desert!
Is it good?
Great, brother. All the food we want and free rent. Why not join us, brother?
I will, brother. What's the address?
Europe!

Thursday, 23 July 2015

The Party

Alright, children, who would like some cake and ice cream? One at a time!
Now, Donald, how do you always manage to be first in line?
I dunno, m’am. Guess I’m just lucky.
He pushed me out of the way, Nanny.
Aw, Jeb, what a crybaby you are.
Am not! You’re a bully! I’m gonna tell my brother.
So tell him! What’s he gonna do - start a war?
It’s true, Nanny, Donald’s a bully. I saw him picking on John. He said John wasn’t brave.
You little snitch, Ricky! You’re just jealous cuz I’m not afraid of the gang and you are.
I am not afraid. And they’re not a gang. They’re my friends. Why don’t you go home, Donald. Nobody likes you.
Teddy likes me.
Yeah, I like Donald.
We’re pals. And what kind of friends break into your house, Ricky?
They didn’t!
They did, too! And you let them. You’re a chicken and John’s a sissy.
Children, please! Eat your cake and stop all this fighting.
Waa!
What now, Lindsey?
Donald stepped on my phone.
Did not!

Tuesday, 7 July 2015

What The Donald should say

"I see that Mr. Rick Parry finds my comments “offensive.” Perry, as you may remember from his previous bid for the nomination, wants us to “have a heart” when it comes to the  issue of people entering our country illegally. Well, you know they say charity begins at home. So I’d like Rick to know right off that I do have a heart. I have a heart for the people of Arizona and New Mexico whose property is being overrun and vandalized by our new "guests;” I have a heart for the women and children who have been raped and even killed by some of these marauding migrants; I have a heart for the border patrol trying to do the impossible with insufficient funds or support from Washington; I have a heart for Americans whose jobs are being given to undocumented workers by unscrupulous contractors and farmers; I have a heart for the many Mexicans now waiting patiently in line to be admitted legally who see that crime pays the queue-jumpers; most of all I have a heart for my country and yours, whose future looks more and more uncertain under the present drift of things.  And so I ask the governor and all my critics in turn, Won’t you have a heart?

Tuesday, 16 June 2015

Pontificasaurus

First the Holy Father told the world how evolution works, and now he's about to give us the real dope on global warming. Who knows what conundrums of modern science will attract his Holiness' notice next: space travel, particle theory, dinosaurs . . .?

“ My dear people of the earth! As you know, there are some who believe that the dinosaurs were cold-blooded creatures, but a more enlightened point of view has now supplanted such backward thinking, welcoming our ancient terrene fore-tenants into the family of warm-booded mammals, egg-laying though they undoubtedly were. This modern approach to the problem of prehistoric metabolism is one with which Holy Mother Church finds herself in total harmony. After all, dear faithful, we know that Jesus was god-in-man. What simplicity of truth, then, to posit that dinosaurs were bird-in-snake! If the third person of the Trinity can take the form of a bird, why shouldn’t a reptile also be feathered and hot-blooded? And if the Virgin could bear offspring from a ghost, is there any let to the power of God to allow a mammal to lay eggs? And if I, the vicar of Christ, can turn wine into blood in the miracle of transubstantiation, cannot God, then, in his infinite solicitude for his creation, allow a lizard the modest comfort of homeostasis?                   
       "There is no room for prejudice in science. The long-departed dinosaurs cannot defend themselves against these baseless heresies, but through the power of prayer, we, their true and faithful heirs, can one day find salvation in the warm-blooded doctrine of revealed truth.
     “Let us work together, henceforth, to banish the cold-blooded deniers from the portals of true science, and bar them from ever harming our children with their out-moded beliefs. Let them repent their repent dogmas or find themselves out in the cold - Ex communicado!"

Monday, 25 May 2015

Fire and ISIS

So far, the US under Obama has confined its military response to Daesh to the air, backing up the inept and divided Arabs with bombs and pep talks but declining to engage the brutal Islamists directly on the ground. Obama thinks he’s playing it safe and cool, but he may be treading on thin ice.
         Suppose the unthinkable happens: ISIS gets the armament enabling it to take down high-flying aircraft and eventually shoots down and captures an American pilot or two. That in itself would catapult the Panderer in Chieff’s failed  war policies into the heated arena of mass outrage and censure. If he had only attacked what he naively called the JV league earlier, it will be said, then the fateful Caliphate might have been checked before it grew into this fierce and formidable adversary. JayVee? Was that Obama-code for Jihad Victory?
          But suppose, even more unthinkably, that the young American captive is then shown on YouTube getting incinerated in a cage such as saw the screaming immolation of a young Jordanian ace last winter. Such atrocious treatment of one of their own would send America over the top with existential angst, and would spell the end of Obama as a moral leader. Not even his acolytes on the left would dare defend him. He would leave office reviled and vilified. He would be remembered forever after, not as the founder of Obamacare, but as the passive abettor of Daesh. And that one horrific clip on YouTube would become the defining image of his failed presidency.
      As Obama observed in March, much can be done in two years. Much can be done - and undone.

Tuesday, 31 March 2015

Hallelujah!

Once again, Holy Week is upon us,
And U.S. libs are shouting Hossanas, 
Lining the Via Dolorosa with a vengeance
To exult over sinners seeking redemption.

First in view is Trevor Noah,
Who laughed at Jews, shades of Shoah!
Now the king of jesters mourns 
Under a crown of tweeted thorns. 

Behind him, Pence of the Crossroads State,
Is getting hammered for learning too late:
Who gets religion ain't got a prayer;
So lay on, lasher, and the whip don't spare!

But as Pence repents and Noah atones,
Let the good news be spread:
It'll be a miracle, and make no bones, 
If either one can rise from the dead.

(Still unrepentant is the crusty Maher,
Who put teen and terrorist at par;
And drew the censure of Islamophobe!
As teenies wept their jihadi heartthrob.)

Friday, 20 March 2015

Dubya's DUFF

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the worst of us all?
George Bush must be heaving a sigh of relief - and gratitude.  After years of languishing at the bottom of the Fave Presidents list, he finally found himself getting bumped up a notch, yielding the bitter cup of absolute obloquy to his insouciant successor. None of Obama's achievements in office can compare in sheer monumental amazingness to his having made his hated predecessor look good. Bush the execrable. Bush the pathetic. Bush the odious. Bush the cute? 
      All is relative, even evil; and no hue so dark that another can't lighten. Like homely girls who make unwitting foils for their their devious friends, US presidents, too, can play the DUFF. Only, in the realm of American politics the acronym means something quite different: Disgustingly Unpopular Failed Follower. 

Saturday, 28 February 2015

The Prophet
All he said was, read the book!
But none of them would even look:
Pols and pressmen, popes and presidents,
United in their unread reticence;
And when he cited chapter and verse,
He drew their wrath and hateful curse;
Said they, "What can't the devil quote?"
But this scripture the devil wrote!
As they searched for root causes,
He cast a light on root clauses;
Money conquers all, they assure us,
Impervious to the power of suras.
A voice in the Wildersness,
It fell to him, Great Geert, to redress
The fall of freedom to forces foreign,
The freedom he found the West's true core in.

Sunday, 1 February 2015

London Calling, Christie Stalling

London Calling! Or are those the strains of adhan, the "prettiest sound on earth" according to Obama, floating across the pond?
Or is it all those beards chanting Death to Freedom in Piccadilly?
Or else the screams of women getting shariaized down there by the Imam, under the eyes of the NHS?
Or the once fearless British bulldog now whimpering under the whip of haram?
Or the deafening silence of the government to all of it?
If a tour of Londonistan won't open up your eyes to the disaster of indiscriminate immigration, Mr Christie - and all you other candidates for "leader of the free world" - then nothing will.

Friday, 23 January 2015

Die Job

  
With fifty stripes of the lash still raw on the back of Saudi reformer Raif Badawi, America's media have gone into geyser-mode slavering over the villain who put them there. Like undertakers applying greasepaint to a rotting corpse, the journos are pulling out all stops to eulogize "America's staunchest Arab ally," who just happened to be, as the avowed guardian of Islam, a sworn enemy of "America's staunchest MidEast ally,"  i.e., Israel. Is there a contradiction here? Is black white?
        Actually, it is. At WaPo they've got a full page rundown on the barbarous king's barbering habits. It turns out that the unnaturally black beard was being colour-treated all the time. Who would have guessed! The old devil was only ninety, after all. And so it is with all the aging princes of the realm, past masters at turning back the clock. Maybe it's having all those wives in the harem that drives this vanity, but it's a vanity that serves everyone's purpose: We need their Arab Super Light and they need our Grecian Formula 16 dark.
      It all reads like trivia, but WaPo understands how to tint the news by focusing on black beards and away from whitewashed crimes.
      But Abdullah's commitment to change went beyond the merely cosmetic, or so they tell us. He increased the literacy rate - and banned hundreds of books. He advocated for peace - and secretly funded ISIS and all the other Wahhabi psychopaths out there. He believed in interfaith dialogue - and arrested  apostates.
      In Britain, flags were lowered to honour the tinctured tyrant, even at the palace. With billions in arms sale to the Sauds, Cameron knows which side of the bread his oil's on. And the queen, renowned for her addiction to thoroughbreds, may be forgiven if the sound of her jockey's whip drowns out the headsman's lash. It's the sport of kings, after all, as is riding roughshod over human rights.
      They must be laughing in North Korea, where ritualized tears are a routine thing. After all, how is Kim Jon Un any more of a bane to humanity than His Royal Travesty was? If more prisoners of conscience crowd Korean than Saudi jails, it's only because more heads roll in Ryadh. How many  innocent people have died because of this sheeted thug's need for "stability and security" will never be known. What is known is that his heir apparent is just as committed to wealth and privilege, er, I mean stability and security, as was old hair apparent himself. That's the kind of "continuity" our journos applaud. Are you listening, Headsman? Continuity! Let's see, now, where did we leave off? Oh, right! That's fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three . . . .
 
Blow Off
Because of their oil, they're treated royal by Western clientele;
Each time we drive we help them thrive, and rig their iniquitous well,
By our hard cash they wield the lash that keeps conscience in its cell;
So walk and save, and dig their grave, and blast them all to hell! 


Saturday, 17 January 2015

Pardon My French

       There's nothing like a show of unity to bring out the double-talk in the West. The editors of Charlie Hebdo are calling their new cover "defiant," but its message of "all is forgiven" smacks of cowing appeasement. Why is Mahomet crying? For the loss of life? For God;s sake! Wasn't he the one who ordained it?
       Here in Canada, Justin Trudeau, a sometime defender of female genital mutilation against the imputation of barbarism, is telling us that the attacks are a "perversion" of Islam. 88% of Egyptians want apostates put to death. Is that also a perversion? The only perversion of Islam is the so-called moderate mode of Muslims who don't take the Koran seriously. One could say that moderation is in effect a perversion of barbarism, just as light is a perversion of darkness.
         If Trudeau had read the not-so-holy Koran he would know that Islam is a perversion of religion itself. Just as his own creed, Catholicism, is a perversion of logic. His pope condemned the "fundamentalism" behind the attacks and then followed up with an implied condemnation of the attacked. Having it both ways is the preferred mode of discourse for this former Jesuit. Free speech is OK, it seems, but it has its limits. And the hint is is that Hebdo crossed those limits. Ergo, they got what they deserved. Hebdo, as it turns out, is no friend of Catholicism, and routinely ranks on Holy Mother Church with the same gusto it shows the religion of peace. Turning the other cheek also has its limits, it seems, even for the vicar of Christ.
         But actions speak louder than words. No sooner had the French government come off a mass rally* supporting free speech, than it started arresting scores of citizens for violating hate laws. Pat Buchanan writes that the French are morally befuddled. Being a good Christian gentleman, Pat doesn't swear, but he knows, and we all know, what France is. It's damn well @#%&ed!
      Islam, it's been said, has no sense of humour, but even the sternest jihadi must have smiled at these cartoonish antics among the freedom-loving infidels. What a joke!    


*Which rally excluded nationalist Marine Le Pen but embraced the hypocrite representatives of Saudi Arabia, just as the first fifty of 1000 lashes were being meted out to  blogger Raif Badawi for the crime of wanting a more lenient Islam. 

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

Photo of the Weak


 "My darling, if anything should jeopardize our immigration numbers, oh, I can't bear to think of it."
"Don't worry, my love! Where there's a will, there's a way.  Somehow we'll weather this and come out of it with even more Islamists. On that you may rely, cherie."
"Je suis Charlie." 
"Je suis dhimmi."

Sunday, 11 January 2015

Le Terroriste, C'est Moi!

An accomplice to the Paris massacres got away, but there are plenty of others just begging for arrest - if only the French had the guts! Here's a shortlist of France's  Most Wanted:

Hollande, Sarkozy and every president back to De Gaulle, along with all the ministers and politiicians in or out of office who betray their heritage and history every day of the week. These are the appeasers of Islam and the paid puppets of the moneymen who promote, as they do in all Western nations, mass immigration. Last known wherabouts: Cloud Cuckooo Land.

Big Business, the suits and suave set down at the Bourse who plot continually behind closed doors to ensure a steady flow of new workers and consumers into France, whatever the cost to the country's long-term stability.

Journos of left, right, and center,  paid by the above, to suppress and ignore the grotesque failure of Multicult.

Priests, Bishops and Popes who refuse, out of cowardice or ignorance to assert the superiority of their own creed over the hideous pseudo-religion of Islam.

Chic Young Childless Women all over France, indirect aiders and abettors of the atrocities, yes,  the same ones now sporting the  "Je suis Charlie" signs like so many fashion accessories in the candlelight vigils. They'd rather say "Je suis intellectuelle" than "Je suis maman," but they are the effective mothers of every immigrant in France. By their fruits ye shall know them - and by their lack of fruit.

Thursday, 8 January 2015

C'est L' Economie, Stupide!

The ledgers at the Paris Bourse will be out as usual today,  counting up the gains and marking down the losses of the previous day's trades and trade-offs. Let's see, that's eight murdered - but the economy is humming right along. Free speech was down but (foreign) worker satisfaction was up. Oh, well, that's the cost of doing business. Now, we really must import a few hundred thousand more Muslins by year's end.  Gotta have workers and consumers to keep us in our wonted style and comfort. And since our own women have long since moved on from the tedium of maternity, where else can we get our next generation if not from the third world? Free speech? Well, as good businessmen, let's be honest, if it's free then it must be worthless. Just one more entry ...  France in the bloody red, Islam in the black. Done!