Timericks from headlines in today's New York Times

64 Videos Show the N.Y.P.D. Meeting Protesters With Fists, Clubs and Body Slams.

The right to protest is protected/when the right thing is selected/But marching to an unapproved/cause will get you quick removed/or punched or struck with billy club/And that's how things are run here, bub.



The White House Called a News Conference. Trump Turned It Into a Meandering Monologue.

When the Prez confronts the press/his modesty will dispossess/He brags of all he's done before/He tries to even ev'ry score/He answers questions not a bit/but spouts like it is holy writ/If I were a reporter there/I'd stay dead drunk and pull my hair.

Scientists Have Finally Calculated How Many Hot Dogs a Person Can Eat at Once.

In the annals or research/things have taken quite a lurch/as the eggheads have devised/how eating franks is analyzed/Yet despite what they found out/they did not factor sauerkraut/Without that tangy dividend/my hot dog nosh I will suspend!

Timericks from stories in today's Wall Street Journal.

Universities Cut Oil Investments as Student Activism Builds

Fossil fuels have found that they/are deplored like tooth decay/by college boards who won't invest/in such dirty interest/No! they cry; the remedy/is oil that comes from THC/That will keep us going strong/please to pass around the bong.

Hospitals Stock Up on Covid-19 Drugs to Prepare for Second Wave in Fall

Doctors and their nurses know/that epidemics come and go/but pandemics have got a way/of coming for a long long stay/And so the clinics now prepare/for autumn surges ev'rywhere/To avoid September's funk/I think I'll just stay in my bunk . . . 

Billboard Charts to Stop Tallying Music Sold With T-Shirts, Tickets

  Artists that are selling schlock/integrity do really mock/Mozart sold no t-shirts, friend/and Brahms stayed broke to bitter end/Play your music, country star/and don't sell me a candy bar.  

Timericks from stories by Allison Prang, Joe Flint, and Rachel Pannett.

Allison Prang.  WSJ.  

California Governor Says Indoor Operations for Bars, Restaurants, Movie Theaters Must Close.

@AllisonPrang

California's Golden Gates/have swung shut as it now waits/for the virus to explode/once again in Death Star mode/The Gov thought maybe they could fudge/but that ol' virus has a grudge/Now he's closing shop again/for ev'ryone, from mice to men.

Peacock, NBCUniversal’s New Streaming Service, Joins Crowded Field at Challenging Time.

@JBFlint   @Lilliannnn  

Streaming entertainment, news/sport and talking heads that schmooze/is a concept I downplay/cuz I do not want to pay/Call me cheap and dull -- a schnook/For free I'll just enjoy a book!

Jumbled Covid-19 Border Rules Baffle Companies, Stymie Tourism.

@RachelPannett

Crossing borders nowadays/is a baffling polonaise/All the steps you have to take/to avoid a big mistake/would make Fred Astaire confused/And still your entry is refused/Me, I'll stay put right inside/and read my little TV Guide.

The True Story of My False Teeth.

The fact of the matter is
I don't have dentures.
I have all my teeth.
Because my mother made
me go to the dentist every
six months as a child.
It was a horribly cruel
ritual,
which she carried out with relish.
It was her kismet to send me
to the torture chamber 
because she loved me.
It was my kismet to
submit,
until I turned sixteen.
And then I refused.

So my mother sold me off
to a moped gang.
she thought this would
ripen me to remorse,
and I would return 
a more pliant child.
But I fooled her.
I liked the moped gang.
Elderly folk,
with too much time on their 
hands,
who sped up and down
Larpenteur Avenue,
shaking down greenhouses
and truck farmers.
The only drawback
was you had to have dentures
to gain full membership
in the gang.
So I sucked in my lips
and pretended.
It worked.
Since most of the gang members
were nearly blind as a bat anyways.
I became leader of the moped gang
at age 19.

Now at the sunset of my life
I go to the dentist every month.
A perky dental hygienist cleans
and polishes my teeth as I sit
in a very comfortable leather
chair. She smells of sweet apples
in the fall.  

I put my mother's cremated remains in 
very rare and expensive jade jar
and donated it to the University of Minnesota
School of Dentistry.
They have it out in their lobby.
Kismet, mommy, kismet. 

Timericks from stories by Nick Timiraos, Kate, Davidson, Jon Kamp, Joseph De Avila, Eun-Young Jeong, and Tom Fairless.

Mount Rushmore, from inside George Washington's left nostril.

Fed, Treasury Disagreements Slowed Start of Main Street Lending Program.

@NickTimiraos   @KateDavidson

To the rescue, Uncle Sam/has the speed of sleepy clam/When he's giving out the dough/he can seem a bit too slow/that's because his servants vie/for the biggest piece of pie/Next time Main Street help requires/they'd better pull some better wires.

The Suburbs Continue to Grow During Pandemic.

@jon_kamp  @jdeavila  

I never liked the suburbs/they always seemed to be/a haven for the dullard/a sink of iniquity/John Cheever wrote about 'em/and so did Updike, too/I'd rather have a condo/with fish market in view.

Why China Isn’t Expected to Power a Global Recovery

@TomFairless

I'll tell ya why ol' China can't revive our fiscal woes/She will not buy our chicken feet or make all our cheap clothes/She's had it up to here with Trump and all his mangy crew/She'd rather deal with India, Malaysia, or Peru!

Zone of Avoidance.

I deal in voids and walls.
Been doing it since I was a kid
in my father's workshop.
He was a great old guy, my father.
He used to let me stretch out a common
ordinary void into a massive black hole
that would engulf worlds without number
and their suns. 
Then I'd let 'em snap back into shape,
disgorging hundreds of solar systems
like peas out of a peashooter. 

As for walls, or curtains as we sometimes called them;
my father was unparalleled at setting 'em up so they'd
mask the namby-pamby universes from the
Deep Terrors that lurk just beyond the next red giant.
If those Casper Milquetoast astronomers ever
really got a squint at what's out there behind the curtains
put up by my father long ago,
well,
let's just say,
they'd use String Theory to hang themselves.

 When father passed things on to me
I immediately set up a zone of avoidance --
sort of a neutral zone, or safety zone,
where the cosmos could gather together
and work things out without terror and
justice taking complete control.
I wanted to see if both sides of the wall
could create some pity and charity.
There was free bottled water 
and whole wheat snacks.

So far things have gone pretty slow.
I mean, I'm a patient guy -- I can wait for
an ocean to become a desert --
but progress has been dismal up to now.
I may have to hurry things up a bit.
Solar flares. Gamma radiation. That kind of thing.
But I never give up hope; I can't abide entropy.
Molecules may unravel along the way,
neutrinos may go astray,
but I'll tie it all up
in the end. 
Just like my old man would have done.

Photo Essay: Postcards to my President. Vol. 45.

Timericks from stories by Stuart Condie, Sarah E. Needleman, Catherine Lucey, and Byron Tau.

Stuart Condie.  WSJ. 

‘Buy Now Pay Later’ Is Having a Moment as Pandemic Changes Shopping Habits.

@StuartLCondie

My father told me long ago to spend less than I make/Even if it meant that I would never order steak/Such homely truths do not seem to be practiced much these days/In fact, I've given up on it myself as just a phase/I figure that the virus has my number, so why not spree/cuz when I am defunct I'll need no credit history!

Sarah Needleman.  WSJ. 

Amazon Says Email Ordering Employees to Delete TikTok Was Sent in Error.

@saraheneedleman

Memos in a corporation/cause a lot of keen vexation/First they text "verboten!' now/and then reverse it anyhow/If TikTok's not a hairy deal/stop wriggling like some darn eel!

Catherine Lucey.  WSJ.

President Trump Commutes Sentence of Roger Stone.

@catherine_lucey    @ByronTau

When you're buddies with the Chief/you don't have to sweat relief/Even when in durance vile/you can manage still a smile/For the Chief won't let you sit/He will spring you from the pit/Let that be a lesson, chum/Sucking up is never dumb.

the chain restaurants that proliferate in this region of farmland, rolling prairie and lakes.

We moved to the country, my wife and I,
to get closer to the truth.
But all we found were fast food joints.
It was a disappointment.
But we faced it like true pioneers;
we ignored the hazards and 
planted acres of okra, bitter melons,
and reindeer lichen.
The reindeer came in vast herds to our land;
they browsed contentedly --
and Amy and I knew our own contentment 
for the first time in many years.

But then a lightning storm came out of the West
and killed or maimed all the reindeer.
The ones left alive fled in terror.
They have never returned.
The lichen all turned to useless prairie kelp.

The seed catalog said that okra
restores youthful vigor in lovemaking.
We planted a lot of it.
But we forgot that in our part of the country
it can snow in late May.
And it did.
And the okra never came up at all.
The field turned first to mud
and then to spindly weeds that
even the crows avoided.

We had much better luck with
the bitter melon.
It thrived, even during drought.
The grasshoppers, thrips, and Mormon crickets
left it strictly alone.
So we harvested many tons
with our old John Deere tractor and trailer.
To sell at bonanza prices to China.

Then Trump screwed things up with China.
And the COVID 19 put us out of business.
We had to sell the land back to the bank,
which in turn sold it to Cargill  --
they now raise strange GMO things on the land:
stirrup-shaped mushrooms that attract biting midges;
corn that drips turpentine;
mud skippers that they market as free range chicken.
And they harvested our field of prairie kelp and distilled 
it into an artisan vodka that everyone drinks in Manhattan.
Amy started to drink it, too, to blunt the pain.

Now we live in a small town, the county seat, and run the only pawn shop in the entire county. We are very popular. 
Everyone relies on us to get them through the hard months.
The hard months are November through August.
We take all our meals at McDonald's.
Amy wants to move to Canada.

Timericks from stories by John McCormick, Catherine Lucey, Jacob Bunge, Jesse Newman, and Griff Witte.

John McCormick.  WSJ.

Trump Casts Wide TV-Ad Net to Shore Up Support.

@McCormickJohn   @catherine_lucey

If all the money spent on ads/by Trump and all the other cads/were spent instead on better things/we all might live like splendid kings/and queens in comfort for a while/instead of subject to their guile.

Jacob Bunge.  WSJ.

Tyson Turns to Robot Butchers, Spurred by Coronavirus Outbreaks.

@jessenewman13  @jacobbunge

Robot butchers on the loose/they are gonna cook our goose/Algorithmic chopping widget/they will never lose a digit/But beware when they escape/We'll all begin to dress in crepe!

Time to shut down again? As coronavirus cases surge, a growing chorus makes the case.

@griffwitte

Many experts now agree/we opened early, ruinously/Corona cases now have soared/because the danger we ignored/I guess as hermits we must strive/to keep ourselves somewhat alive!