Oliver Wendell Halliburton's Doggerel Blog

Don't Let the Door Hit Your Ass

2009-01-14T06:07:00.000-08:00

Don't Let the Door Hit Your Ass,

An Ode.

Dear Prez'nit Bush, the time has come
To kiss your term goodbye.
Our eyes are dry, you brain-dead bum;
For you no one will cry.

Make sure you pack up all your stuff
Don't leave a god-damn trace,
Take your useless, lazy duff
And take your smirking face.

Be sure and take your Torture Corps
Illegal, vile, unclean,
Take all those portraits you adore -
You know the ones I mean.

Your gang of cronies, so inept
At everything but thieving
And hiding all the loot they've schlepped,
Take them, or not. They're leaving.

Take your banner, too, that squawked
"Accomplished" is our "Mission."
Take every neocon chickenhawk
With you straight to perdition.

Take Saddam's widdle pistol gun,
And when you've had a few
Shoot out the chandelier for fun
Then puke on Laura's shoe.

I'd ask you to take Cheney, too -
Please take him anyplace.
But I think you know what he'd do
He'd shoot you in the face.

Take this, take that. It's all you know,
And let the wreckage lay.
Please no more talking, George, just GO
Leave early. It's okay.

~ Oliver Wendell Halliburton

The Last of Bush's Volunteers

2007-05-27T12:00:00.000-07:00

Oh the year it was two thousand two
I wish they were in Gitmo now!
A story all forged, a tale untrue
From the scummiest crew I ever knew,
God Damn them all! I was sold
On the smoking gun Saddam did hold
Now I'm a broken man with PTSD,
The last of Bush's volunteers.

Oh Cheney and Rice cried "mushroom cloud",
I wish they were in Gitmo now!
And the War President stood there and vowed
A lie to the Congress right out loud,
God Damn them all! "He has WMDs
That are aimed at the heart of our fair countree!"
Now I'm a broken man in Walter Reed,
The last of Bush's volunteers.

Oh, Colin Powell was a plausible sight.
I wish he was in Gitmo now!
A-talking of tubes and yellowcake,
And Tenet behind him to support the fake
God Damn them all! Those aluminum tubes;
And we swallowed it all like a bunch of rubes,
Now I'm a broken man all scarred and seared,
The last of Bush's volunteers.

Oh the year it was two thousand three,
I wish they were in Gitmo now!
When I rode in armorless Humvee
And we hit that motherfucking IED
God Damn them all! I was sold,
And the missiles flew and the tanks they rolled
Now I'm a broken double amputee,
The last of Bush's volunteers.

The HumVee bucked and pitched on her side.
Oh I wish they were in Gitmo now!
The Sergeant was smashed like a bowl of eggs,
And the bomb blast carried off both my legs.
God Damn them all! They sent me a bill
For my missing gear; twas a bitter pill
Now I'm a broken man and it appears,
I'm the last of Bush's volunteers.

So we searched for a year through the heat and sand
Oh I wish Bush was in Gitmo now!
But their "smoking gun" never came to hand
Now the Army says I owe them eight grand
God Damn them all! They knew, they knew
But they got their war and the missiles flew
Now I'm a broken man and it appears,
I'm the last of Bush's volunteers.

So here I sit in my twenty-third year.
I wish they were in Gitmo now!
It's been four years since we sailed away,
Now they just closed down my town's VA.
God Damn them all! Sometimes I dream
Of the Humvee exploding and hear Sarge scream
And I wake up cold and full of tears,
I'm the last of Bush's volunteers.

The Ballad of Gonzo Gonzales Abu

2007-03-18T10:14:00.000-07:00

The Ballad of Gonzo Gonzales Abu
(to the tune of "Abdul Abulbul Amir")

The thugs of our President seldom are hesitant
At doing things not straight and true,
But the dirtiest imp to do dirt for the Chimp,
Was Gonzo Gonzales (Abu).

If he wanted a man to dismantle the the ban
On internment without process due
In some old parchment rag, he would summon his AG:
"Get me Gonzo Gonzales Abu!"

'Way back when ol' Dub was called Governor Shrub
With a drunk driving record or two,
His old DUI rap disappeared in a snap,
By the hand of Gonzales Abu.

As Gov'nor, you know, Dub was fond of Death Row
And was known for the hundreds he slew.
What slipshod attorney sped them to the gurney?
Why, Gonzo Gonzales Abu!

In the White House, who served with vim & with verve
And wrote in a memo or two
The Geneva Convention's a "quaint" old invention?
This same Gonzo Gonzales Abu!

When MP's took pics of their Abu Ghraib tricks
And butt-pyramids burst on our view,
Who merits the name of their undying fame?
All Hail Gonzo Gonzales Abu!

Who thinks "rule of law" has a terrible flaw,
In applying to both him and you?
Who finds it abhorrent to spy with a warrant?
Why, Gonzo Gonzales Abu!

Who bolsters each hour Executive Power
Till the government's all pulled askew?
Who think "separate branches" are just Bush's ranches?
You guessed; it's Gonzales Abu.

He's a thug, and a hood. He makes Ashcroft look good,
A fixer of John Mitchell hue.
He can outdo Ed Meese in the matter of sleaze,
He's our Gonzo Gonzales Abu!

Who finally told the lie big and bold
That tells us his time's about through?
The firing of eight that we call Gonzo-gate
Will bring down old Gonzo Abu.

"Mistakes" were sure made, but, my dears, I'm afraid
That Gonzo will follow Agnew,
Who was forced to resign, not for erors, but crime,
So farewell to Gonzales Abu.

Baseball...

2007-03-10T06:48:00.000-08:00

George W. Bush is Dumb.

2007-03-02T09:04:00.000-08:00

The other day an astute Republican, a campaign operative of Mitt Romney, penned a memo containing the following gem:

'Like every Republican in the race, Romney faces the delicate task of how to talk about President Bush, whom the country gives low job-approval ratings . But the plan lists two ways Romney can set himself apart from Bush. The first says, simply, 'Intelligence.'"

Which kick-started the Halliburton muse:

George W. Bush is Dumb.

Beat the drum, for Bush is dumb!
His dumbness makes us wonder.
As dumb as any stumblebum
Who goes from gaffe to blunder.

He's stupid. He's a dimwit.
He's dumber than an ox.
A dolt. A fool. A dunce. A twit.
Dumb as a box of rocks.

An imbecile. A dunderhead.
A moron. And a goose.
The man is thick. He is brain-dead.
He's dull, dim, dense, obtuse.

The Bush IQ, we see, is poor.
Moreover, he lacks knowledge.
He knows so very little, for
A man who went to college.

He's ignorant. He's not well-read.
He has no information.
No store of learning his head.
No food for cogitation.

And then, the smidgen that he knows
Is largely incorrect.
He garbles simple English prose.
His history's mostly dreck.

He thinks that austere Washington,
Who favored isolation,
Would say "War with Iraq? Well done!
What time's the next invasion?"

He thinks that Lincoln, who condemned
The war with Mexico
Would be the firmest sort of friend
To war for Texaco.

He thinks that in the Pantheon
Of History's Elect
The Name of Dubya will shine on,
With laurels all bedecked.

He's wrong. He errs. He's off the mark.
Devoid of truth and fact.
He's out to lunch. He's in the dark.
He's faulty. Inexact.

As are those lights who chose this goon,
This clown, this ignoramus,
This knothead, simpleton, buffoon,
For whom all nations blame us.

Oliver Wendell Halliburton

The SOTU from Bad to Verse

2007-01-24T06:05:00.000-08:00

"The State of the Union's just Grand.
All things are improving, as planned,
'Cause I'm the Decider,
The Leader and Guider,
....Why I'm tanking I don't understand."

"Now, 'cause I'm the War President,
I better not hear no dissent
When I ask for more billions
To add to the trillions
The taxpayers already spent."

"Mah Fellow Amurkans, I urge
All of y'all to support my new Surge:
With Resolve, we will Strive,
Blah blah blah, watch this drive.
And Democracy soon will emerge."

"We'll defeat these Islamo-fascistas
And open up new Freedom Vistas,
If you don't buy my lies,
You must hate our G.I.s,
And their moms and their dads and their sistas."

"So let us move forward together
To send in them troops hell-for-leather,
Sure, things'll get worse,
I'll pretend the reverse -
The same as I done with the weather."

"And when things go south in Baghdad,
I've got a new plan; aintcha glad?
I'll rage and I'll bluster
And start a new cluster-
Fuck - then I'll have more wars than Dad."

"So that's all for now, folks! God bless!
And God Bless America, yes!
God bless KBR,
And God bless my war!
Now, Lieberman, time for my kiss!"

Civil Defense

2006-08-03T07:34:00.000-07:00

The CONSCIENCE of a CHICKENHAWK, 2006

2006-03-14T08:36:00.000-08:00

For Andrew Sullivan and his Ilk.

"In retrospect, I'd have to say
I've been a sorry fool.
Those Neocons led me astray,
And used me as their tool."

"I was 'too trusting,' too afraid,
Like children in the night,
And so I hopped on Bush's train
And bellowed 'Fight, team, fight!'"

"When some said 'This preemptive war's
Illegal and unrighteous,'
I brayed 'You're traitors, Saddam's whores,
And buddies of al-Qaeda's!'"

"When some said, 'We'll be there for years,
And make things worse by staying,'
I stuck my fingers in my ears
And drowned them out by braying."

"I guess Bush shoulda had a plan
And listened to advice
From sources more discerning than
Doug Feith, Rumdum and Rice."

"In retrospect, my 'punditry'
Almost makes me ashamed.
(I'll throw in here an R.I.P.
For thousands dead and maimed.)"

"Although the slaughter, blood and waste
And crooked enterprise
And blowback of this war were based
On 'errors' (don't say 'lies!'),"

"And though perhaps I have deserved
Discredit and derision,
I don't regret the tour I served
In the Chickenhawk Division."

I'll still maintain the noble dream
That it’s our destiny
To liberate ragheads till they scream
And spread Democracy.

"Because the damage is not mine;
'Collateral' means 'unreal.'
A Chickenhawk is always fine
With pain he doesn't feel."

"You see, because our cause was just,
Somehow, this devastation,
Lies, torture, theft and...pixie dust
Will build a brand-new nation."

"Well, now my mea culpa's made,
I feel less sore and vexed
In fact I'm all hot to invade -
Look out, Iran; you're next."

A PAIR of PARODIES

2006-03-07T19:30:00.000-08:00

Dubya! Thy beauty is to me
Like those Wilsonian barks of gore
That savagely, o'er a blood-dimmed sea
Send asymmetric Death to free
The living from life's chore.

On bibulous sprees long wont to roam,
Thy nondescript hair, thy vapid face
Thy simian airs have brought me home
To the Desert that is Peace,
The Guantanamo that is Rome.

Lo! on yon brilliant Teevee screen
How Stalin-like thy motorcade!
The granite lump that is thy head
Announces thy next mad Crusade
To Folly-Land!

*********************************

HE walks in booty, like the blight
Of boundless crimes and warring cries,
And all that's worst of smirk and smite
Meet in his aspect and his eyes;
Though yellow in that Asian fight,
Which Hell decreed for other guys.

One lie the more, one lie the less,
Could not impair the shameless, base
Delight in every brazen stress,
Of dimwits who adore his face,
Whose thoughts, supremely smug, express
How narrow is their dwelling-place.

And while that simian lip lets fall
His phrases stale, grandiloquent,
The smirk that stays, the infinite gall
But tell of life in darkness spent —
A heart at peace with war’s dead pall,
A mind whose "peace" means "killed 'em all."

She of the Big Hair

2005-10-26T06:00:00.000-07:00

Kay Hutchison, with hair so large
Said "Perjury's a silly charge.
Except when Democrats commit it;
Then, by Heavens, I forbid it!"

Hutchison on perjury, 10/23.2005: "[I]f there is going to be an indictment that says something happened, that it is an indictment on a crime and not some perjury technicality where they couldn’t indict on the crime and so they go to something just to show that their two years of investigation was not a waste of time and taxpayer dollars.”

Hutchison on perjury, 2/2/1999: "[S]omething needs to be said that is a clear message that our rule of law is intact and the standards for perjury and obstruction of justice are not gray...Because our system of criminal justice depends on people telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. That is the lynch pin of our criminal justice system and I don’t want it to be faded in any way."

"The Day was Dreary as Brit Hume," A Mournful Lay

2005-10-24T20:26:00.000-07:00

George Bush stood in the Lincoln Room;
His face was ashen gray.
The day was dreary as Brit Hume,
As he sang this mournful lay:

"Oh holy shit, what will I do?
Turdblossom's been indicted!
And Cheney, Libby, Hadley too--
Oh Harriet! I'm frightened!"

"Enfold me on your virgin lap
And croon to me 'there, there;'
'Tell me I'm 'cool,' and all that crap
To chase away my care."

"Tell me that my adoring 'bots
Exalt me in the earth;
Tell me that all their waking thoughts
Aren't fixed on... Leavenworth."

"Without my Karl, I have no brain,
I cannot smear and scheme,
My whole agenda's down the drain,
Fuck...pour me some Jim Beam."

"I plunged the nation into ruin,
And screwed up my invasion,
And now the GOP is screwin'
My bestest nomination."

"Oh Harriet, rock me in your arms,
Just like a liddle boat
Far from the world and (hic!) its harms,
And read me My Pet Goat."

The Higher Dysphoriocracy in a Nutshell

2005-10-24T20:12:00.000-07:00

The planes bring their bombs and more bombs,
plane after plane after plane;
Guerrillas creep out of their holes
and take away all that we gain.

Napalm is jellified gas;
it clings and it burns as you flee.
A village destroyed is one saved,
and the people, they burn to be free.

A cell is a hole where McCain
proved a man's soul could stay whole,
And Hell is a hole for a man
who when saved only sells his own soul.

The dead live again in the speeches
of those who think more men should die;
Like good money thrown after bad,
the dead help the State sell its lie.

Torture alone is our savior;
Our Savior says "Better dysphoria
Engendered by glowsticks in Gitmo,
than to let mullahs rave in Peoria."

The Man Horizontal we value,
though Vertical Man's just a schmuck;
The State builds stone mansions for one,
while the other is shit out of luck.

Hymn #112: I Love Thy Empire, Bush, My Lord

2005-10-24T20:07:00.000-07:00

I love Thy Empire, Bush, my Lord,
I love thy Garrison State,
Fortress America! by whose Sword
Vile Heathens fall prostrate.

I love Thy Pentagon of Pow'r.
When I before Thee stand,
Thou art my Rock, my Strength, my Tow'r,
Here, have Eight Trillion Grand.

If e’er to bless Thy hallowed Graft,
My voice or hands deny,
Or prophesy a Coming Draft,
Let me in Gitmo die.

Bush, shall a scoffer’s tongue incline
Thy Cabinet to abuse?
Say Condi's dumb, Gonzo's a swine?
That man his Job shall lose.

For Thee, O Bush, our Hearts beat high;
To Thee our Prayers ascend.
We'll never ask thee reasons Why,
Wherefore, or to what End?

If Torture be some Raghead's lot
We'll know that he did Evil;
If Jetplanes bomb some humble Cot,
'Tis well - it served the Devil.

Teach us to stand upon Thy Word,
Not Rule of Law, nor Reason,
Give Thee our all, give Sense the Bird,
And let all else be Treason.

Coronation Hymn for Our Blessed Sovereign, George Bush the Second of that Name

2005-10-24T20:01:00.000-07:00

Almighty Bush, Thy lofty Throne
Hath Torture for its Cornerstone,
And shining bright before Thy reign
Are boundless ways of causing Pain.

All Glory unto Bush we yield,
Thy Quagmire is our Empire's Shield;
Thou make’st our Nation's name adored
Like unto that of Mongol Horde.

With Payoffs are thy Lackeys bless'd
They kneel, they tout, at thy behest.
They in thy light, O Bush, shall dwell;
Let Naysay'rs be consigned to Hell.

Thy Boot with gladness all shall lick,
And those of Rove and Big Time Dick,
Our slavish Tongues to Thee belong,
For in Thy Ignorance we are Strong.

The Streets of Fallujah (April 2004)

2005-10-24T19:56:00.000-07:00

to the tune of "The Streets of Laredo"

As I wandered out on the streets of Fallujah
I spied six Iraqis a-burning our flag
Their children were armed with grenades & Katyushas
I said to myself, "Occupation's a drag."

As I was a-guardin' a convoy on Sunday
My Sarge was blown up, they extended my tour,
My best buddy died in an ambush last Monday,
Glad our "Mission's Accomplished," and we’ve won the war.

So beat the drum slowly for the brave coalition,
Play the dead march as they toss in their cards,
Dig in for the long brutal war of attrition,
For I'm a young cowboy in the National Guard.

Beg six NATO allies to shore up our quagmire,
Spring six Ba'athist Generals from prison today,
Send six more battallions, I'm caught in the crossfire,
And cough up that $25 billion to pay.

Oh drape the flag sadly o'er our soldiers' caskets.
Play the dead march for our nation's good name.
Send men to replace those who come home in baskets.
Don't admit you screwed up, you can outsource the blame.

No drums or dead marches for uncounted civilians
They killed some of ours, so we’re strafing the town.
We’re just a few good guys against all those millions,
And they all look the same, so just hose ‘em all down.

Beat the drum slowly for the ravelling mission
Shed crocodile tears, all you brave Chickenhawks
For the dead, sacrificed to imperial ambition,
For the shattered young Guardsman sent home in a box.

On a Bicycle Built for Shrub (2004)

2005-10-24T16:13:00.000-07:00

Two news items:

20 May 2004 WASHINGTON (AP) - President Bush sought to rally Republican lawmakers around his Iraq plan Thursday, saying Iraqis are ready to "take the training wheels off'" by assuming some political power…

BUSH FALLS ON BIKE RIDE
Saturday, May 22, 2004 Posted: 6:00 PM EDT
CRAWFORD, Texas (CNN) -- President Bush fell off his bicycle Saturday while riding on his ranch, according to White House spokesman Trent Duffy. Bush, who was accompanied on his bike ride by his doctor....fell about 16 miles into a 17-mile ride. The accident caused minor abrasions to his chin, upper lip, nose,right hand and both knees, but he was able to ride back home, said Duffy....

Pedal on, O Schwinn of State

Pedal on, O Schwinn of State,
Bush-Cheney war machine so great!
Humanity with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
We know what "masters" warped thy wheels,
What workmen botched thy chain of steel,
Who bent thy training-wheels, and broke
Each sprocket, gear and twisted spoke.
You forged the misbegotten mess,
And when you fall off on your ass,
You'll blame the Congress, blame the brass;
The lib'ral press (defeatist traitors),
But ne'er blame Bush and his Crusaders!
In spite of plans that lack all sense,
In spite of false intelligence,
Ride on, nor fear to breast the tide
Of rising blowback. Smug and snide,
You took the nation for a ride.
You stole our sons, then hid their bodies
Go, pedal with your pals the Saudis,
To Hell with thee, to HELL with thee!

Not Brightest, Nor Best
to the tune of "Brightest and Best of the Sons of the Morning"

Not brightest nor best of the sons of Big Oil
A wastrel until he quit drinking;
Unaccustomed to service, and unused to toil
And too little given to thinking.

Vainly we wait for a sign that he sees
That the crisis grows daily much vaster
What “war president” ever took so much ease
As debacle turned into disaster?

While Baghdad is burning he falls from his bike.
(The training wheels came off too soon.)
Make this wannabe Ike on a trike take a hike
Along with that other poltroon.

The Ballad of the National Guard Bonus

2005-10-24T09:16:00.000-07:00

01/25/05

Hello, boys and girls! Today
I'm here to offer Fifteen K
To each and every one of you
Who wants to serve and be true-blue.

Hello, soldier in the V.A. hall!
Too bad you lost your arm and all.
Here's a safety pin for your sleeve,
Oh, and Soldier, before you leave,

Pay this, or you won't get far:
It's a bill for the blown-up car,
Your missing rifle, and back pay
You haven't earned since explosion day!

It comes to right around fifteen grand.
Gee, we're sorry about your hand.
Your Purple Heart? Don't have it here;
We'll mail it. When your check has cleared.

A Rolling Clusterballad of Rumdum's Quagmire

2005-10-24T09:07:00.000-07:00

We'll go in "lean and mean," ya see?
We won't need too many troops,
And there won't be a goddam insurgency,
Just garlands of flowers in the - oops.

It's only a few of Saddam’s old pals
"Dead enders" who just won’t quit;
They’ve blown up a few of our guys and gals
But soon they will all be—--oh, shit.

Well, we were still right to start this war!
And pretty soon now we will find
All those WMDs we were looking for
…There are none? You mean NONE?...Never mind.

The insurgency’s finally passed its peak
As I just heard from General Myers,
He knows, ‘cause I told him so last week;
Are you saying we BOTH are liars?

The soldiers need armor? more benefits?
They need higher combat pay?
They're at war, goddamit! This isn’t the Ritz!
Uh, waiter, I’ll have the filet.

We’ve been here almost two years now,
Our troops? Hell, no, they’re not tired!
Our allies aren’t either! …At least, not. . .Palau,
And I STILL haven’t been fired.

I think that proves I’m doing just fine!
That this clusterfu--war soon will BE won,
That a “quagmire” is only a state of mind,
And you must have a mind to see one.

When Despot Shakes His Sordid Fist

2005-10-24T08:58:00.000-07:00

When Despot shakes his Sordid Fist
Not all the World doth tremble:
Some indicate where to be kissed
And say "Thou dost dissemble."

He ordereth Legions to increase;
They dwindle, not grow more.
He ordereth the Waves to cease
And still they lap the Shore.

A Tyrant wields his Rod in vain;
In vain his vast Empire:
'Twill fall, like cities of the Plain,
And Nineveh, and Tyre.

- Sapientia Stillingfleet

Neoconservative Lament, or, Swine before Perle

2005-10-24T05:59:00.000-07:00

This world has grown cold for a neo-con, dears:
Though once we were loathed but respected,
Now we only get loathing commingled with jeers.
We're disconsolate, blue, sad, dejected.

We had power untold and a lucrative gig
When we ruled from the five-sided castle;
Now we're looking at time in a Federal brig
For some two-bit security hassle.

Those traitors at State and the foul CIA
Tried to smear with lies clumsy and crude
The very best friends of the whole U.S.A.,
Just to make it look like you've been screwed.

Only rogue agents In League With World Terror
Would drag our fair names in the dust,
For no neo-con ever, was ever in error;
The way of the Righteous is Just.

So even if each Special Plan we advised
Was a a gem of craptastical error
We'll never admit that the war we devised
Has made the world safer...for terror.

We'd like to get back to our principle errand:
Making desert lands safe....for investment,
So Green Zones can blossom like roses of Sharon,
As it says somewhere in the Old Test'ment.

And our will will be done, tho' some may not get it,
There is light at the end of the tunnel,
Though your soldiers and allies and money and credit
Seem to vanish down some giant funnel.

For Liberty's end is but freedom's beginning,
Each setback more proof we've succeeded.
Our logic (Orwellian) proves we are winning,
When really we're we're flat-ass defeated.

Oh, Dubya, Dear Dubya, It's Going to Get Rough

2005-10-24T05:55:00.000-07:00

by Oliver Wendell Halliburton

Oh, Dubya, dear Dubya, it's going to get rough,
Your downfall's beginning, you slime.
America's tired of your lies and your guff,
And your Daddy can't help you this time.

Item One--here you strut on this old video,
Telling lies just to make folks afraid.
Item Two--all the photos that you wouldn't show
Of the bodies of those you betrayed.

Item Three--here's a memo on torture you wrote;
Four's your gulag, where law is forgotten.
Item Five--here's the payoffs that bought you the vote.
Here's your character witness: Bin Laden!

Item Six--here you loaf, just a-strummin' guitar
While folks in New Orleans went under.
They drowned while you clowned, slept, and peddled your war;
Now the whole nation's pissed, and no wonder.

Item Seven: The cronies you put in high posts:
Party hacks, college roomies--a brood
Who just gawked while a hurricane ravaged our coasts
--If a terrror attack comes, we're screwed.

Item Eight--Karl Rove, your old Slimer-in-Chief
Being frogmarched to court for his treason.
Item Nine, which you brought in the night, like a thief:
Our debt, which is vast beyond reason.

Item Ten is the failure of your mad invasion
That would rebuild...the whole Middle East!
You never told us that a whole generation
Would be needed to do it, at least.

Oh, Dubya, dear Dubya, come home in duress,
Impeachment's beginning, you worm,
And afterwards, criminal charges we'll press
And, please, please, God, a stiff prison term.

Oh, Dubya, dear Dubya, come home with me now.
Your free passes have ALL passed away.
I pray you'll sleep tight in your cellblock tonight
With Cheney and Rove and DeLay.

Fifty Conservative Blogs! Count 'Em! Fifty!

2005-10-24T05:38:00.000-07:00

The Blogs! with apologies to Edgar Allan Poe

See the wingnuts with the blogs!
Rightwing blogs!
What a world of terror has them grovelling like dogs!
How they shiver, shiver, shiver
In their meager cyber-spheres
All their pundits are a-quiver,
Spin backfiring like a flivver
Like a rocket up the rear!
Spreading lies, lies, lies
As their brain implodes and fries
From a mad hallucination of their leaders marched like frogs,
In the blogs, blogs, blogs, blogs, blogs, blogs, blogs,
-In the trembling and dissembling of the blogs.

See the proud progressive blog!
Kos's blog!
What a world of activism issues from its log!
How the posters, posters, posters
Sitting up til nearly dawn
Nail the lies of rightwing boasters
So that Kossacks, over toasters,
Can rejoice and carry on.
Nailing lies, lies, lies
Giving candidates supplies
Of the data that'll help them stick a wrench in Bush's cogs,
Oh, the blogs, blogs, blogs, blogs, blogs, blogs, blogs,
The smiting and the righting of the blogs.