Weak of knee and limp of spine,

America, in sad decline,

Scared it might provoke a pushback,

Doesn’t dare to move its tush back

And make its seat recline.


Scrunched and curled up like a comma

Or a drawing in the Kama

Sutra, buckled in and nestled

In its seat, completely pretzeled,

All thanks to Barack Obama


He wants America to squeeze

In Belgium’s seat, and bend its knees

Up to its chest, and never ever

Touch the seat-recliner lever

Without saying please.


But Putin is a different sort

Nasty, brutish, also short.

Unafraid of causing pain

To the kneecaps of Ukraine.

Protecting with malignity

His national supinity

Try taking him to court!


If Putin or if Netanyahu

Ted Cruz or some other yahoo

Ran the country, we’d be able

To drop down our seat-back table

And lean way back and crush the pants

Of China, Germany and France.

Ripped from the headlines, the news from Newsverse:

Humanity’s progress has gone in reverse.

As bad as things are, they can only get worse.

We’ve analyzed data with methods statistical

Consulted with oracles, ancient and mystical

Compiling our Newsverse Anxiety Listicle:

Inflation, deflation, the interest-rate spread–

Whatever that is–there’s a risk that the Fed

Might keep it too low, or raise it instead.

Droughts from Los Angeles halfway to Texas

Floods in Ohio and polar vortexes.

Freezing us down to our solar perplexus.

You’re searching for truth but you live in a buyer’s

Market for lies in a world filled with liars

Hypocrites, sellouts and climate deniers.

Film at 11 of Cops Dumb and Dumber

It’s never too late for a long and hot summer.

Stuck like a record on some old Victrola:

Israel and Gaza. The Ukraine. Ebola.

Whosis and Whatsis and ISIS and dreading

Ritual stoning and death by beheading.

The savage god beckons us

From his dark heaven

Where memories cannot follow.

Where the dead lose their power over us

To make us miss them.

In his fierce gaze all is forgiven.

Without a single Hail Mary or Our Father.

Without uncomfortable fasting or tedious penitence or embarrassing reflection.

A lifetime of regrets is compressed to a singularity

and disappears, as if into a black hole.

You have done things that can never be excused in this life.

(Everyone has.)

So don’t even ask.

There is no absolution

So absolute

As oblivion.

“I hope all the citizens of Alabama will be in prayer that the right thing will be done.”–Twinkle Andress Cavanaugh, president of the Alabama Coal Association, asking God to stop new EPA regulations on power plants.


About six thousand years ago

God made dark and light,

Water, land, and down below

A load of anthracite.


And God, whose wisdom knows no bound,

To foil Barack Obama

Covered it with sacred ground

And called it Alabama.


It’s in God’s plan that you can’t find

Coal in Greenwich Village.

He put it where it would be mined

We worship him in pillage.


So sing his praises, as we dig

Our way to Heaven. Churn up

The Earth. God made it very big

So there’d be lots to burn up.

I do believe there can’t be other intelligent beings in outer space because of the meaning of the gospel. You see, the Bible makes it clear that Adam’s sin affected the whole universe. This means that any aliens would also be affected by Adam’s sin, but because they are not Adam’s descendants, they can’t have salvation.–Fundamentalist preacher Ken Ham of Answers in Genesis, on  NASA’s Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence.

All things weird and beautiful

All creatures gray or blueish

Saturnine or Plutoful–

You might as well be Jewish.


Scaley or encased in shell,

With tentacles prehensile,

You are going straight to Hell

God knows you’re not a Gentile.


Ask not for whom the church bell tolls

On your moon or asteroid

Jesus doesn’t save no souls

In Outer Space’s airless void.


God made you out of cosmic dust

You chlorine-breathing pagan

So go and pray and put your trust

In Dawkins or Carl Sagan.

Only 11 miles from the White House, officials reported last week, six glass vials of variola, the smallpox virus, had been squirreled away for decades in an unguarded cardboard box in a storage room on the National Institutes of Health campus in Bethesda, Md….The discovery marked the third major safety breach in recent weeks at government health and research laboratories.—The New York Times

Did someone see my variola?

I put it with the Coca-cola

With the box that’s marked “Ebola.”

Can someone look behind it?

The anthrax in the mayo jar–

I might have left it at a bar–

Or in the backseat of the car.

I hope the kids don’t find it.

Actually I’ve got a hunch

I might have had it with my lunch.

Mixed it with my tunafish.

Ate it off a petri dish.

The test-tube with the yellow sticky

Has a bug that’s kind of tricky

It’s either flu or HIV.

I wrote it down someplace, but gee–

Why’d you have to go and drop it?

Now we need someone to mop it.

Let’s not make too big an issue

Anybody got a tissue?

So you have to blame Bush, you have to blame Obama, you have to blame Maliki, there’s plenty of blame to go around.--David Brooks on NPR

When the airplane hits the ground

And when the ship is sinking

Time to spread the guilt around

It saves a lot of thinking.


Now David Brooks has spoken.

He holds forth to proclaim:

The rule–if something’s broken,

We all must share the blame.


If the path ahead dead-ends

He never would admit

It was paved by his old friends

Ankle-deep in shit.


David Brooks’s commentary

Is nothing if not fair

(Although perhaps he isn’t very–

Shall we say, self-aware?)


If all those little Cheniacs

So arrogant and shameless

Were criminals and maniacs,

Obama can’t be blameless.


Point no fingers, but instead

Accept we’ve had a few bad breaks

If you’re wounded, if you’re dead

Everybody makes mistakes.


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