Sojourn of the Trumpsmen. Canto One. (Loosely Based on The Odyssey)

“About half a dozen of President Trump’s past and present Cabinet members spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on charter jets, military planes, and other government aircraft for travel that often could have been undertaken much less expensively on commercial aircraft.”

From a story by Philip Bump in the Washington Post

CANTO ONE

Speak to me, my Muse and guide, and do not spare the flights

Of fancy for the men of Trump who all were errant knights.

Triumphant in the war against the azure-tainted foe,

They flocked around their leader to enjoy the afterglow.

He had led them when the chips were down, in fact extinct;

When there didn’t seem to be a single loyal precinct.

Bravely they had fought and fibbed to make the country great.

Stoutly had they written checks (without much int’rest rate.)

And then the gods of ballot box, of tally and of poll,

Had put their adversaries in a deep and slavic hole.  

The victory was so complete the troops of leftist teal

Were banished to the void to gnash their teeth and rudely squeal.

Fifteen met in council with their Chief to plan the peace.

Ten plus five, the number of those who would share the grease.

Blinded by their confidence, they worshipped the cash cow --

And left all other deities to hold their own powwow.

They would build a tower to reach profits in the sky.

And a hurdle that would make barbarians all cry.

Medicine would be abridged and lose its kindly gaze;

Only those with lots of gold could purchase real x-rays.

Wall Street would be idolized and fossil fuels acclaimed.

Those in welfare housing would be made to feel ashamed.

These, and other crude conceits, the trumpsmen gaily planned --

While the gods determined that their backsides should be tanned.

Their punishment was subtle and as wily as can be;

Each council member would regret their own trajectory.

Steamship, airship, choo-choo train, or limousine deluxe;

No matter how luxurious, each trip would end in flux.

And so the stage is set for tragedy and balderdash,

For detours and debacles, while a lot of things go smash.

Safe haven for these buccaneers is not at all assured,

As the siren song of loot to mishap has them lured . . .  

(to be continued)

The Rise of Emojis

Emojis, colorful and playful pictograms that are available on a range of devices, have altered the way humans communicate with one other and have become a powerful force in pop culture, both online and off.

From the NYTimes

Welcome to Emoji-Land, we hope that you enjoy

The symbols and the faces and will with them always toy.

The use of words is fading as these hieroglyphic doodles

Give us all a break from using any of our noodles.

The Smiley Face triumphant is our flag of victory;

No need to teach your children any A or B or C!

What need is there for books when an emoji tells the tale?

Why bother with discussion when you can text a whale?

We say “I heart New York” and other emoji-centric drivel;

No wonder our vocabulary now begins to shrivel.

Ideograms have conquered Western thought to such extent

That speeches and debates will soon become a nonevent.

The Coming Civil War Over Styrofoam

The civil war that pundits said was coming all along

Was not about religion, race, or weak against the strong.

Twas caused by plastic forks and spoons, and plastic bags adrift

Upon the land in such amounts that made some people miffed.

Each takeout order added to the trash that piled so steep

That mesas were created from the styrofoamic heap.

When city councils tried to stem the tide of plastic trash,

They were suborned by infusions of sub rosa cash.

And thus the vigilantes rode out in the dark of night

To torch the fast food franchises, and Holiday stores smite.

This in turn led lawmen to retaliate in kind;

Laying waste organic fields, with tree huggers confined.

This break in law and order swiftly sundered fam’ly ties;

Fathers fought against their sons on how to serve french fries.

Should they be inserted in a toxic plastic basket,

Or served up in an expensive organic bamboo casket?

Soon the country into chaos crazily descended,

And all the trash collection was immediately suspended.

While armies brawled across the land to save or crush the Whopper,

Our infrastructure, farms, and shops sadly came a cropper.

As soon as our poor country was brought down upon its knees,

We were infiltrated by the Russians and Chinese.

Now they run the government and  make us all agree

To the use of styrofoam and lots of PVC.

The Visit of Warden Are Hoidal

The metal gates swung open and then shut behind the man

Who managed Halden Prison with a compassionate state plan.

Here in Philadelphia he made a tour of cells

To sample all the sights and sounds (and maybe even smells.)

This Norwegian manager did not like what he saw;

“You isolate your charges for such minor breach of law!

In Norway we don’t use much segregation to hold sway --

We find that very few men benefit from such foul play.”

Norway has few prisoners, and none are in for life;

While Philly is so thick with bars you can’t insert a knife.

The contrast is so striking that professors scratch their heads,

And wonder if Norwegian crooks are given comfy beds.

Here in dear America we lock ‘em up so long

And punish them so harshly they forget the right from wrong.

In Norway, on the other hand, they’re treated with respect,

And go back to society not as a moral wreck.

Norwegians spend more money on their prisoners than we.

Their motivation to reform is built up constantly.

Perhaps if we fed prisoners a lot of lutefisk,

They wouldn’t come out hardened as a felonious high risk.

(From a story in the Philadelphia Enquirer)

Daily and Present Remembering

President Henry B. Eyring

“The blessings of daily and present remembering will come slowly and steadily as we serve Him, feast on His word, and pray in faith on His name.” Henry B. Eyring.

NOW is when remembering the Savior is essential

To my daily struggle to unearth my true potential.

Putting off the challenge of the Prince of Peace is vain

If I want His blessings and His mercy to obtain.

Sucking out the marrow of His words in scripture leads

To a better emulation of His kindly deeds.

Written with the blood and salt of prophets who endured,

Their testimony of the Christ leads to reprieve assured.

At this moment, in this time, with all my focus bent

On the Son of God I must kneel down and then repent

Of procrastination and a casual regard

For the Savior’s wounds that left Him suffering and scarred.

The Book Bogey

The book bogey likes volumes that are esoteric pearls,

Like “Shakespeare’s Second Best Bed” or else “Playing Rustic Churls.”

Best sellers and self help books are the banes of its existence;

It would rather chew on an old boot for its subsistence.

There’s very few book bogeys left among the elfin folk.

Because the franchise bookshops to them really are a joke.

Late at night when bogeys like the best to roam around,

You’ll find them making love to any book that’s leatherbound.

Thieves that try purloining a rare document will find

A book bogey is chewing on their sensitive behind!

A bookshop with due reverence for tomes is always blessed

By book bogeys who keep their charges sweet and coalesced.

What I think of MLMs

Elder M. Russell Ballard

• Today I repeat earlier counsel from Church leaders. Brothers and sisters, keep the doctrine of Christ pure and never be deceived by those who tamper with the doctrine. …
• Do not listen to those who have not been ordained or set apart to their Church calling and are acknowledged by common consent of the members of the Church.
• Be aware of organizations, groups, or individuals claiming secret answers to doctrinal questions that they say today’s apostles and prophets do not have or understand.
• Do not listen to those who entice you with get-rich schemes. …

In some places, too many of our people are looking beyond the mark and seeking secret knowledge in expensive and questionable practices to provide healing and support. …

M. Russell Ballard

The mountebanks and conjurers grow bolder all the time.

Through MLMs and nostrums they mix scripture with pure slime.

Their draughts are sweet and subtle, while their manner is sincere;

They’ll suck up your last dollar with alacrity and cheer.

Unordained, unlicensed, and behind ornate closed doors,

They preach a gospel knockoff as infallible mentors.

Tampering with doctrine like a child with matches playing,

They ignite but misery when for grace they should be praying.

Do not heed their siren call; let prudence be your guide.

The waters of delusion are so deep and cold and wide.

The simple truth will keep you high and dry without a doubt.

Don’t look beyond the mark if you would keep your purse strings stout.

ABC News' Howling Typo

Here is how ABC News reported General Conference -- can you spot the howling typo?

Cook reminded members that the religion's signature scripture, the Book of Mormon, declares that "we all are unlike unto God." He said anyone who claims superiority based on race, sex, language or economic class is morally wrong and doesn't understand God's purpose for his followers.

Poetic Thoughts from Saturday Afternoon Session of the 187th Semi Annual Conference of the LDS Church

Gospel glasses keep us safe from any chance eclipse/and will help us with the gospel always come to grips/Meaningful connections need an unobstructed view/so we ignore the many to go wait upon the few.

A winning life is fruitful with repentance and resolve/to come unto the Savior and continue to evolve/The penitent are positive; contrition brings us joys/which never is pathetic and which never ever cloys.

The Lord’s true purpose is so strait that many never see/how it only can be served with true humility/Be humble and find meekness in the power of the Lord/and you shall find that modesty becomes a fiery sword.

Coincidence and God’s design are not the same at all/Coincidence is what man sees because of Adam’s Fall/But God unfolds His master plan no accidental way/with purpose orchestrated to guide us all the livelong day.

To show the Lord your heart you need/but sacrifice until you bleed/and then the Lord will kindly deal/with all your wounds to make them heal.

Without the Book of Mormon we are chips upon the wave/circling the maelstrom without a plan to save/The fullest understanding of the Master still resides/in this sacred guidebook that is proof against all tides.

Where the Heck is Catalonia . . . and Why Should I Care?

I must confess geography

Is not an easy thing for me.

Where Catalans inhabitate

Is something I can’t calculate.

The media is not much good

On making this thing understood.

Is it Europe or in France?

Does the place have much romance?

Their wish to vote is so sincere --

But what they want ain’t very clear.

I think they want to export cheese

Without a bunch of shipping fees.