To be a diplomat today

DAKAR, Senegal—The U.S. State Department is opening new, military-style training facilities around the world, expanding plans to prop up local forces battling terrorism as the Trump administration seeks cutbacks in conventional diplomacy and development programs.

WSJ

To be a diplomat today for good ol' Uncle Sam

you gotta shoot a rifle and perform a body slam.

Negotiation is old hat; our allies need to learn

that if they don't kowtow to us their cities we will burn.

Our britches are capacious, we can fit in them with ease.

And all the world will soon begin to grovel and say 'please.'

Cuz if they don't we've got a drone that visits them at night

and drops a little present right upon their naked site.

It's not that we won't talk at all, or quarrels like to pick;

we only want the world to know we carry a Big Stick.

Twould be a very naughty thing to label us a 'brutes.'

(We just might have to break your neck with one of our jackboots.)

Nai Gai Cha

SHANGHAI—They say 1.4 billion customers can’t be wrong. But what if those customers are putting cream cheese in their tea?

Known as “nai gai cha” (“milk-lidded tea”) in Chinese, the drink is made using a base of tea topped with a cap of cream and cream cheese that is whipped together until it forms a light, fluffy texture. Tea houses encourage drinkers to sip it at a 45-degree angle for the ideal mouthful. And it’s become a bona fide phenomenon.  WSJ

I do not want tea with cream cheese.

I do not want it full of fleas.

I do not want it here or there;

make your thickened dairy rare!

I do not like cream cheese in tea.

I'd rather drown in vats of ghee,

or yak butter in old Tibet --

Away with such a dismal wet!

Could I, would I want cream cheese

in my oolong as a tease?

I do not want it, Ms. Barista;

tis worse than being Sandanista! 

There is safety in repentence

But, behold, all nations, kindreds, tongues, and people shall dwell safely in the Holy One of Israel if it so be that they will repent.
1 Nephi. 22:28

There is safety in repentance for each member of mankind.

Creed and color matter not, to gain real peace of mind.

The Holy One of Israel has pledged to take our grief

and turn it into nothing but the joy of sure relief.

Sins are chains and shackles that we forge ourselves each day.

But when we dwell with Jesus Christ such bonds will melt away.

The nations of the world must bow before his loving strength

to know he keeps no penitent away at cold arm's length.

Concert Ticket Prices

Superstars have long dominated sales of recorded music, but streaming has made that less lucrative. Performers’ royalties—for acts big and small—are generally much smaller on streaming than on records, CDs or download sales, so artists have to turn to concert revenue for more of their income. And it’s only the superstars who have the ability to charge significantly more for tickets than their predecessors did a generation ago.    WSJ

Concert ticket prices have shot up like rocket ships.

You cannot hear Beyonce unless you are in the chips.

When the Rolling Stones go out on tour, although senile,

you'll need the ransom of a king to get past the turnstile.

And yet these big name venues garner millions for each show;

are people really that careless about their hard-earned dough?

I wouldn't pay a nickel to see Taylor Swift -- what's more,

I think that Justin Bieber is an overrated bore.

If kids would save their money and all concerts so proscribe,

they might get into Harvard without any kind of bribe.

Blessed when he shall make bare his arm

And I would, my brethren, that ye should know that all the kindreds of the earth cannot be blessed unless he shall make bare his arm in the eyes of the nations.
1 Nephi. 22:10

Blessed shall the nations be

when the Lord reveals that he

with his arm shall free mankind

from their ignorance so blind.

Superstitious creeds shall melt

as around the earth is felt

light and spirit unrestrained

and the devil now is chained.

Hasten, Lord, that day sublime

when to heaven we shall climb!

Major Louisiana Newspaper Lays Off Entire Reporter Staff

The Newhouse family sold the 182-year-old daily The Times-Picayune and its website, nola.com, to a scrappy New Orleans competitor, and the entire staff is being laid off. That has stirred worries across the other papers in the family’s Advance Publications empire.

A total of 161 staff members are being laid off, according to a WARN (Worker Adjustment and Retraining Notification Act) notice filed with the Louisiana Workforce Commission, which listed 65 reporter and editor jobs in the bloodbath.

New York Post

Reporters have an awful time maintaining their vocation.

They turn around to find themselves on permanent vacation.

Secure employment for a scribe is getting just as rare

as reduction of the New York Subway System fare.

They need to have a second job, if writing comes a cropper.

I suggest they look into the job of common pauper. 

I like to comment on the news

I like to comment on the news;

to make a poem to spread my views.

But newspapers don't often care

to publish my stuff anywhere.

The New York Times is awful mum

when on my golden lyre I strum.

The Boston Globe turns up its nose

at even my most sprightly prose.

The Wall Street Journal wouldn't dream

of posting anything I scheme.

And USA Today won't hear

of letting my best verses near.

The hell with them and their gulag;

I'll just keep posting on my blog!   

Guided past cool springs of water

They shall not hunger nor thirst, neither shall the heat nor the sun smite them; for he that hath mercy on them shall lead them, even by the springs of water shall he guide them.
1 Nephi. 21:10

Guided past cool springs of water,

never fainting from the heat,

Father, help thy son and daughter

all our sorrows to defeat.

Give us strength, thou greatest Leader,

gentle mercy we implore;

in the swamp or stand of cedar

help our ancient faith restore.

Only thou canst bring us gladly

through the danger that is life,

as the world around us madly

sinks into a murky strife! 

The World Belongs to Uber

In Uber’s vision of the future, most people won’t own cars. Riders will hop on electric bikes and scooters for short distances, and summon cars with drivers for longer rides. Takeout dinner will become a vestige, replaced by hand-delivered meals. Garages will empty and parking lots will be ripped up and transformed into grassy parks.

Eventually, robots will rule. Self-driving cars will shuttle people around the roads—and in the air—while drones will make the deliveries. Robotrucks will roam the highways. And Uber will be at the center of it all.     WSJ

The world belongs to Uber, leastways that is what they plan,

making them Conspiracy's primary bogeyman.

If your bus is not on time, then Uber is to blame.

When a hubcap's missing it's an Uber-funded game.

All the bikes and scooters have the markings of the Beast.

Drones are multiplying like a pack of Fleischmann's Yeast.

Soon no movement can you make unless an Uber-clerk

signs a chit or pulls a switch with irritating smirk.

Up, my comrades, let us march, and tear this monster down!

(And let the ruler true come forth, as Google we do crown.)

Disrupt this Blog!

Mr. Hatkoff was captivated by the “disruptive innovation” theory Clayton Christensen posited in his 1997 book “The Innovator’s Dilemma.” Creative thinkers unafraid to depart from routine, the theory goes, can find unexpected ways to improve the world. They also find unexpected ways to shake up ceremonies.    WSJ

Disruptive innovation is what poetry's about.

It oughta make the public run away and scream and shout.

Alas, I'm such a hidebound hack that never do I soar

above the mediocre -- I am just a rhyming bore.

My work is not intrusive; it would not upset a flea.

You couldn't get it banned in Boston for hyperbole.

To make this poem disturbing I will end with Arabic:

داعيا جميع الدول عادة النفط إلى الركل