More Postcards to the President

Verses Based on Stories in Today's Washington Post ** Republicans prepare to defend Trump in open hearings; Mulvaney no longer seeking judge’s ruling on testifying ** The climate chain reaction that threatens the heart of the Pacific ** ‘Midway’ is a big, old-fashioned war movie, with one thing missing: human beings.

@WPJohnWagner  @ColbyItkowitz

Make up your mind, Mulvaney!

You're acting a little bit zany.

First you say yea and then you say nay,

you're giving our Congress a very bad day.

Never has coyness been craven as this;

Your honor's more riddled with holes than a Swiss!

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

@simondenyer  @chriscmooney

The Sea of Okhotsk is beginning to boil

with nothing much for all the men there that toil

for salmon to feed millions off in Japan;

soon they'll have nothing to put in fry pan.

What is the cause of this mishap so cruel,

that salmon no longer will run in a school?

The ocean is warming, the fish have dispersed;

and no one is knowing how this is reversed.

So crank out the tofu, cuz seafood becomes

rare as a chicken who uses its thumbs! 

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

@mr_osullivan

Movies are bigger and louder and longer,

but my derriere isn't getting much stronger.

To sit and munch popcorn and drain a large Coke

for over two hours to me is no joke.

I head for the restroom, and when I get back

the script has now taken a different tack.

New characters enter and old ones are gone;

is this still Midway (it looks like Bataan)?

Out in the parking lot snow has begun;

when did the movies lose most of their fun?

From now on it's Netflix or Disney, by golly;

the popcorn is cheap and I don't need a trolley.

When all the lilacs died from vaping

The captain slapped me in the face, hard. He'd been doing it all morning, after his squad brought me in for misplacing a comma while printing a government news release. 

"Let's get one thing straight" he said evenly. "I don't like you, and you don't like me, and we don't like them, and they don't like us. Got it? Now, once again -- who put you up to sabotaging that comma?"

I was weak from fear and hunger. My head rang like a gong from all the blows it had absorbed. But I wasn't going to give the bastard anything.

"Private John Wilcox, serial number 7H338B65" I said stolidly.

"You're just making it hard on yourself, John" said the captain. He pulled out an emery board and began filing his plump fingernails. I noticed a half-eaten golf ball on his desk.

"I've got all day" he said conversationally. "There's no rush to get the information we need. Besides, the technicians are working on your laptop right now and we've subpoenaed your phone records. I doubt if it'll be more than an hour or two before we know who's in this with you. So why not make it easy on yourself?" He leaned over to put his savage face right into mine: "SO JUST GIVE US THE NAME!" 

"Private John Wilcox, serial number WCCO6676769 -dash-2" I said grimly. I winced as the captain gave me the back of his hand. I could taste salt as I swallowed the blood in my mouth.

"Very well" said the captain coldly. "If that's how you want it to be, I'd like to introduce you to my friend Hugo . . . "

A huge shadow covered me like a blanket as Hugo stepped into my blurry sight. 

"Hugo has, shall we say, some unusual talents -- I find him very useful when faced with stubborn ignorance. I hope you two will get along well . . . "

The captain left, and the thing he called Hugo sat down on a stool in front of me and grinned like a jack-o-lantern . . . 

How had this nightmare all began? I willed myself to fall back on  past memories as a way to survive the horrors of the present. 

It was last spring, when all the lilacs died from vaping, that ugly crowds demanded brutal penalties for paraphrasing government news releases. State legislatures bowed to the mob and it became a felony to change anything, even typos, when it came from the Governor or Mayor or Chief of Police. The National Guard was called out to insure compliance, and then Congress was prorogued until further notice. They came for my sister Kate one night, breaking down the venetian blinds to confiscate her mandolin sheet music and escort her to a Costco-run 'reeducation camp.' We never saw her again. It was a bad time for journalists, or for someone like me -- a Kinkos clerk who still knew how to read big words.   

I made it my business to scramble the punctuation in every government document and handout we printed and copied. Drunk with power, the local authorities had everything they said, thought, or even belched, immediately printed and posted on walls, fences, and telephone poles. Reactionary to the core, they eschewed using social media for anything but speed dating.

I don't know who finally ratted me out; it was probably the store manager -- he was married to an Otter Pop. It looked like I'd never live long enough to scatter random parenthesis again.

I was shook out of my reverie by Hugo, who kept saying in a thin reedy voice "Look out the window, will ya?"

My hands were untied. Hugo gave me a Handi Wipes to wash the encrusted blood off my face. I staggered over to the window to see an effigy of the captain being set on fire by Ukrainian soldiers. 

The Season of Avocado Toast had arrived at last. This revolution would be rich and creamy, with lots of vitamin K and lutein.

"Am I free to go?" I asked Hugo quietly. 

"Yes, please" he cringed in front of me. "And take the captain's half-eaten golf ball, will ya? He ain't comin' back for it."

(Based on a story in today's Washington Post:  https://wapo.st/2CAIqMN   @ReisThebault )

Postcards to the President

He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord

"He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord . . . "
Proverbs 19:17. 

Give glory unto God most high

and then the beggar pass you by?

Perform the ordinance of praise

but not the destitute to raise?

This cannot be what Christ expects

from those who would be his subjects.

Help me all of thy laws appease

by helping someone's burden ease!

Verses from Stories in Today's New York Times ** How Russia Meddles Abroad for Profit: Cash, Trolls and a Cult Leader ** Andrew Yang’s Campaign Has a Lot of Money. Now What? ** As SpaceX Launches 60 Starlink Satellites, Scientists See Threat to ‘Astronomy Itself’.

@mschwirtz

Russians go to Timbuktu

with elections for to screw.

Flung across this addled globe,

they do poke and they do probe

till they find enough decay

to dig in and then hold sway.

They need more than fluoride to

disappear like morning dew.

Will the gullible ne'er learn

the Russian bear all truth does spurn?

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

@ByMattStevens

When a candidate for office

gets a lot of money in,

you can bet your bottom dollar

he won't use it all to win --

he might need to pay a mortgage,

or to bribe a maitre 'd;

 then there is the lure of Vegas,

and perhaps large screen TV.

Andrew Yang, I do beseech you,

watch your P's & Q's today --

but if you are feeling gen'rous,

please to send some cash my way! 

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

@ShannonWHall

The night sky is a-twinkle with an artificial glow,

as satellites go whizzing round and round, all to-and-fro.

Elon Musk and others fill the heavens with such junk,

the Moon no longer blossoms and old Mars is in a funk.

If we keep adding satellites to those now up above,

there'll be naught but an eclipse when the pushing comes to shove.

Verses from Stories in Today's Washington Post ** Rep. Peter T. King, a 14-term Republican congressman from New York, announces retirement ** Trump’s trade wars are hurting farmers. Can Sonny Perdue keep them happy? ** Supreme Court again confronts Trump’s authority, this time over DACA recipients.

@WPJohnWagner

Retirement's as good a way

to sound retreat most any day.

Conservatives are getting old;

in Congress they are dripping mold.

Old fogeys ought to take the hint

and go suck on some peppermint.

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

@thewanreport  @anniegowen

Get big or get out is what farmers should do;

a mere hundred acres won't grow a cashew.

And ploughmen who don't take the hint can expect

that tariffs will grind them to powder, by heck!

Conagra don't care for the little guy, natch;

and Sonny Perdue their foul back will sure scratch.

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

@scotusreporter

Beautiful dreamer, wake up and see

America don't want the poor refugee.

Though you contribute so much to our land,

the Big Cheese is working to have you all banned.

Beautiful dreamer, even the courts

will treat you like you're covered in warts.

If I were you to Canada now

I'd turn my steps, taking all your know-how.

Postcards to the President

Rash Judgement

"For behold, the same that judgeth rashly shall be judged rashly again . . . "

Mormon 8:19

We push for judgement and condemn

so rashly that I fear

real justice has been sacrificed,

replaced by shallow jeer.

Help me to judge another, or myself,

with cool restraint,

so when I'm called before thy bar

I'll stand without a taint! 

Dead Tourists

@RCPaddock

I had to ask dead tourists

what they thought of all the strife

around the Lake of Toba,

now that they had disowned life.

They drifted down to meet me,

or they rose from out the ground;

some were dressed in whiteness,

while some others were done brown.

They sighed as they commingled

and recalled the leaky boat

that ended their brief holiday

because it didn't float.

They bade me take a message

back to Bataks and all others,

to government officials

and their sisters and their mothers:

"Don't worry about Santa caps

or pigs while it's today.

No fatwa ever helped a man

to find a better way!"

"We can tell you from our graves

that peace and purity

depend less on decorum

and much more on charity!"

"Learn to love thy neighbor

or you'll find a heavy hand

is laid upon you constantly

in ev'ry Promised Land!"

And then their souls went back unto

the depths, or heights, again.

And I was left to ponder

on the silliness of men.

No matter our religion

or our prejudices rife,

if we don't work at stopping hate

we'll have no afterlife . . . 

(from an article in the NYT:  Indonesia Wants 'Halal Tourism.' But Some Want to Wrestle Pigs.)