Saturday, April 7, 2018

Poem: Suzy's something or another birthday

Happy Birthday Sis

How many has it been?
Which one is this? Lost count.
Get psyched up, celebrate with friends.
Don't wait to party on my account.

Man once said, you've won, what are you fighting for?
You've won too, I say and pray it must be so.
We didn't even know they were keeping score.
Have you truly won, sis? How will you know?

We've traveled the same paths.
Visited the Holy Land's distant shore.
Raised unique children, held our wrath.
Wishing we had done much more.

Put aside the tears and fears, look past the coulds and shoulds.
A happy face, as you run your race, this you shall employ.
Few can stand where you have stood.
May all your years rest on laurels built from joy.

Tuesday, April 3, 2018

Short story: The202nd faithless elector

Gloria watched the final presidential debate at Black Whiskey in DC sipping Lagavulin with some of her friends. TVs turned from sports to politics. High fives all around. Slam dunk. After it was over the pollsters agreed; Branson Newbury of the Flat Earth Party was going to win. Triumph tastes good.

Ms. Silver fell asleep as soon as she hit the sheets. Her iPhone wake up song, Takin Care of Business, BTO, started the morning routine: coffee, news, (more of the same), shower, more news, more coffee, power bar, dress, last mirror check, off to work. 

Nothing usually stood out. But this morning one story was  radically different; the Vaneera Eclair network of TV stations was directed by "must reads". Investigative reporters scene stitched hundreds of local news anchors saying the same thing. They were following a script. Serves them right, Gloria said to herself, stupid Social Justarians and their misguided policies.

For every story, every side of a coin, there is another position. The day before their lack of independence went viral, Eclair had run a story in partnership with Opensrcica about candidate Newbury. That as a boy he had been diagnosed with ADHD. He had been treated with psycotrophic Modfilistan for 8 years. The drug is off the market today due to side effects, including super influencer capabilities, possibly the reason for his success with live audiences and television. However, it also caused early mortality, usually within 30 years of first taking the drug for a sustained period.

Gloria, shook her head. He looks so healthy. Someone needs to regulate the news. You can hear just about anything . . . no!, her brain exclaimed, I sound like a Justarian.

In the weeks that followed, both stories proved to hold up. Eclair was driven by "must runs" and Newbury had been on the drug. The slam dunk election morphed into the closest in the history of the United States. 

The moment Gloria dreaded was becoming certainty. The 2028 election would be decided by the college and she was an elector. DC went with Flat Earth. It was time to vote. Gloria had taken an oath; if she failed to follow protocol, there could be fines. But a vote for Newbury was in effect a vote for his vice president. Citizenship is hard.

Gloria Silver became the 202nd faithless elector in the history of the United States. 

Friday, March 30, 2018

Poem: Deja Vu

Tell me again why the Soviet Union fell?

It was the classic problem of guns vs. butter.
The US president, Ronald Regan, was committed to missile defense.
As the Soviets tried to keep up, their people had no bread on the table, no heat for their homes, their infrastructure crumbling, pensioners didn't get paid, working scientists didn't get paid, eventually it all fell apart.

Could that happen to us in the United States?
No, our economy can afford guns and butter.

I heard about the Satan II launch, will we be able to stop it?
Sure, we just need an entirely new class of interceptor!

How long would it take to build said interceptor?
We've been working on the current ones for 20 years.

So we have those perfected?
We're working on it.

That sounds familiar?
Nah, entirely different.

Thursday, March 29, 2018

Satire: Citizenship Census Question

Ministry of Truth Mohuckabee Al Sanders

"This is a question that's been included in every census since 1965," Minister of Truth Sanders said Tuesday, "with the exception of 2010, when it was removed."

A timid reporter asked, wasn't 1950 the last time that question was in the census?

Our understanding is that the census collects no Personally Identifying Information, what we in the know call PII, answered the nation's senior truthteller.

My grandfather was put in a Japanese Internment camp in WWII, partly because the U.S. Census Bureau gave the U.S. Secret Service information about the whereabouts of some Japanese-Americans, cried a reporter from the Honolulu Craigsvertiser.

I've been told that's because they were Japanese, it wasn't personal answered, Comic Huckabee.

In the years following 9/11, the Census Bureau gave the Department of Homeland Security detailed information about the places where Arab Americans live. Why wouldn't there be a concern they would provide data to ICE?

Because the data is confidential. And we all need to understand we need as much accurate data as possible because we need to gerryman, er, apportion the seats in the house of representatives appropriately. After all, if congress loses trust in the census, we would have a real mess on our hands, so far as we know.

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Poem: Lions and Tigers and Nazis, oh no

I read on Snopes just today:
Did David Hogg give a Nazi salute at the end of his "March for Our Lives" speech?

False, false, false, false, false! Thus sayeth the Snopes.
And I believe, throw me in the water!

But it's just a question! So is:
“Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?”

But that was a long time ago!
So were the Nazis.

What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.

Poem: The Coolest Monkey in the Jungle

Designing clothes with slogans is dangerous.
I ought to know.

There was a time we created a custom shirt for every event.
Seemed like one a week.

Once I uncorked some bottles to tease the muse of creativity.
My friends raucously helped me.

Our ideas were splendid, noteworthy, precarious.
Syn City polos under the nightclub's nose.

H&M scorched the earth in South Africa.
The coolest monkey that wasn't.

Retail is fickle, the first shall be last when the wallets snap shut.
One more dying big box in the jungle.

Tuesday, March 27, 2018

Poem: March 27, 2018

Are Stormy Daniels, or, Keith Raniere, false messiahs?
No, they are 15 minutes of famers.
But when we do get a false messiah, they'll make him look good.

Is Donald Trump a false prophet?
Anti-prophet, he is reliably wrong.
So, 1 out of 2 ain't bad?

What kind of sign should we be looking for?
A butch cut lesbian will destroy the constitution.
She was led astray by liberals. #Vorw√§rts!

Holocaust survivor Mireille Knoll was stabbed in Paris.
She knew one of her assailants since he was 7.
Hate crime, Allahu Akbar.

The Parkland students are making some sense.
There is money in the $1.5T to teach them CPR instead.
What if you knew her and found her dead on the ground?

Our rights are protected by the second amendment.
And that trumps the 10 Commandments?
They made Valley High School take those down.

It's my body, my choice!
It's wrong to shoot schoolchildren.
But OK to knife shred a choice.

For false messiahs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect.
Who are the elect?
They took the last train to the coast, the day, the music died.