God save our gracious King,

Ruler of everything.

God save the King!

What if he’s boring us,

Annoying, censorious,

Bombastic, stentorious?

God save the King!

Stiffen his upper lip

Curled like a paper clip

Keep him a perfect drip

God save the King!

Let not rebellion spoil

His humble subjects loyal

Like some other Charlies royal

God save the King!

Those to the manner bred

Don’t always die in bed

Let’s hope he keeps his head.

God save the King

Grant him a life that’s long

Safe from all harm and wrong

Inside Camilla’s thong,

God save the King!

Never desecrate a Bible

Don’t let a Torah touch the floor.

Burn a Koran and you’re liable

To touch off a civil war.

Every sentence, word and comma

In every sacred text is true

Don’t dare doodle on your Kama

Sutra, or your Popol-vuh.

Never mutilate or spindle

Anybody’s holy book

Don’t delete them from your Kindle,

Or your hard drive or your Nook.

The words of God roll down like thunder

From heaven in the Google Cloud

Our minds are filled with awe and wonder

Our hands are clasped, our heads are bowed.

Ever since the day He spoke them

Men and women of good will

Find it handy to invoke them

When they arm themselves to kill.

Louisiana’s new fetal personhood bill—which House Republicans just voted out of committee 7–2—makes abortion a crime of homicide “from the moment of fertilization” and allowing prosectors to charge patients with murder.

Well this really hits a high note

From now on, each little zygote

Microscopic, Lilliputian,

Is exempt from persecution,

Has the rights the Constitution

Grants to all, without dilution.

.

Life, it seems, is where you find it

And nobody ought to mind it

If the government goes looking

Inside of you, to see what’s cooking.

.

Still somehow it makes me squirm

To think we’re not protecting sperm

Overcome with shame and guilt

At that waste of human milt

All those quarts of semen spilt.

.

Damnation’s sure, and it’s eternal

For every instance of nocturnal

Emission or of masturbation 

That doesn’t lead to procreation.

And so we must restore the quondam

Laws prohibiting a condom. 

Hereby we proclaim and dub

Ukraine off-limits to Beelzebub.

Botflies, black flies and of course,

Flies of fruit and house and horse

We’re making it a no-fly zone

We’ll enforce it with a drone,

And send in a whole brigade

Of SWAT teams armed with Flit and Raid,

Fly repellents, screens and zappers

Outside garbage dumps and crappers.

We will extirpate the nests

Of all sorts of airborne pests.

Even with their compound eyes

We will catch them by surprise.

We will dominate the skies.

And rid Ukraine of Migs and flies.

So Breyer will retire, and that means that POTUS

Must hire and acquire a judge to sit on SCOTUS.

Honest, fair and wise and pure just like a legal lotus

Behind her mask no hint or whiff of legal halitosis.

And that’s all fine, but there are nine, in case you didn’t notice.

So stuck at three are hapless we. The six will still outvote us

And wield the gavel, as before, the many times they smote us

We here below, all too well know: they have us by the throatus.

“We never advocate taking a life of an unborn child unless it is necessary to protect the life of a woman,” said Joe Pojman,executive director of the Texas Alliance for Life.

Even in cases of rape or incest, “we don’t advocate for taking the life of an unborn child for the crime of the father,” he said.

The law’s supporters say that it provides sufficient leeway for physicians to act if a mother’s life or bodily functions are compromised, and they insist those cases are rare.

Dr. Ingrid Skop, an obstetrician in San Antonio who belongs to the American Association of Pro-Life Obstetricians and Gynecologists, said that even a girl as young as 9 or 10, impregnated by a father or a brother, could carry a baby to term without health risks.–New York Times, Nov. 26, 2021

.

“I have been in the situation of counseling young girls, not 13 but 15, who have had very at risk, difficult pregnancies. And my counsel was to look for some alternatives, which they did. And they found that they had made what was really a lemon situation into lemonade.”–Nevada Senate candidate Sharron Angle (R.) on her opposition to abortion in the hypothetical case of a teenager who was raped by her father. (July 8, 2010)

.

You know that for a while there I was just a little down
After that thing with Daddy, while Mom was out of town.
The other kids in junior high can sometimes be so mean.
Like, I’m a slut? Give me a break. What about Charlene?
And Mom was all like, who’s the guy? Your Dad will go ballistic.
Which made me laugh so hard I couldn’t help feel optimistic.
I know that awful Mr. Reid would want me to abort it.
It’s cheaper for the taxpayers than having to support it.
But Daddy always taught us that we can’t turn to Big Brother
To help us out of trouble, so I just became a mother.
It’s just like Mrs. Angle told us, look up to the sky
Every lemon situation was decreed from way on high.
And every little citrus fruit was put here to be squeezed
Just add some ice and sugar and the angels will be pleased.
Serve it up with cookies and your biggest widest grin.
Your whole life has been ruined, but at least you didn’t sin.

“Turning Ahmaud Arbery into a victim after the choices that he made does not reflect the reality of what brought Ahmaud Arbery to Satilla Shores in his khaki shorts with no socks to cover his long, dirty toenails.” —From the summation by Laura Hoge, lawyer for one of the three men convicted of murdering Black jogger Ahmaud Arbery.

.

“Everyone in Georgia knows

How to wash between their toes.

There are cells in Georgia’s jails

For those who fail to clip their nails.

Georgia says no sir and no ma’am

To feet with uncut nails or toe jam.

Justice should be swift and sure

For those who lack a pedicure,

Or go out running in all sorts 

Of pants instead of nylon shorts.

My client didn’t want some tacky

Jogger wearing cut-off khaki

Running on his family’s street

With uncut nails on dirty feet.

If the sneaker doesn’t fit

The runner’s foot, you must acquit!”

.

When the facts are on your side

Pound the facts. Or else elide

Inconvenient truths, or hide

That your client simply lied.

If all else fails, just be snide.

The metaverse is the next evolution of social connection. Our company’s vision is to help bring the metaverse to life, so we are changing our name to reflect our commitment to this future.–Mark Zuckerberg, announcing that his company is changing its name to “Meta.”

.

Jeff Bezos wants to reach the sky

Mark Zuckerberg, instead,

Like a parasitic fly

Lives inside your head.

.

He doesn’t want to go to space,

So credit his intentions.

His master plan for saving Face

Exists in four dimensions.

.

With goggles perched upon your nose

A bud inside your ear

The algorithm always knows

What you see and hear.

.

Life creeping in its petty pace

Is overdue to get a

Jet-fueled ride to cyberspace

Your future will be meta.

.

And so while other billionaires

Are probing new frontiers

Zuckerberg is like, “Who cares?

I’ll live between your ears.”

.

And two can play this meta-game

So though it seems perverse

From now on, this blog’s new name

Is Jerry Adler’s Meta-Verse.

The organized left is deliberately putting unvaccinated Trump supporters in an impossible position where they can either NOT get a life-saving vaccine or CAN feel like cucks* caving to the ugliest, smuggest bullies in the world. –Breitbart.com

If they can force a COVID vax

Upon this once-free nation,

They’ll make you pay your income tax

And sneak in fluoridation.

.

Proposals for the  “common good”—

Democracy’s great curse

Liberals playing Robin Hood—

Will land us in a hearse.

.

“Live free or die” is my war cry

It’s tattooed on my bicep

And as you see, “Don’t tread on me,”

Is on this flag that I shlep.

.

A fully loaded M-16

Will take out social rot

Try and give me your vaccine—

I’ll match you, shot for shot.

.

So if you go and get the jab

And let yourself get stuck

Your moral fiber’s turned to flab

You’re just another cuck.

.

So go and beg and plead and wheedle

Argue, threaten, try to charm

You can stick your COVID needle

In my cold dead arm.

.

*”Cuck” (n.colloq.): A slur, derived from “cuckold,” invented by right-wing macho assholes to impugn the masculinity of supposedly weak-minded liberals.

September’s song is sung at last

There’s time for one more glorious

Summer-ending binge and blast

On the Day Laborious

Come and join the big parade

It’s guaranteed to thrill ya

As long as you stand in the shade

So heatstroke doesn’t kill ya

It’s always fun to have a cookout!

Marking how the summer ends

To be safe, though, you must look out

And not invite your friends.

Come and see the fireworks!

As soon as it gets dark

With any luck, us hapless jerks

Won’t burn down the park

You can even take your boat out!

You don’t need a dock

From your front door, you can float out

And row yourself around the block.

And even though it’s kind of tough

Your whole house was destroyed

You can shop and buy new stuff

If you’re not unemployed.