Scoop!

Trump lies.

This Just In!

Dec 30, 1916, the death of Rasputin.

Hmmm. Ghostly?


Don’s Midas Touch

Santa failed to bring Don gold
so Don, a tot forever young,
tweeted Santa was too old,
so Santa filled his sock with dung,
but Don declared that it was gold.


Auto Absolvers

If you know Republicans
and their associated kin,
you likely know that as destroyers
they absolve themselves of sin.

Trumped Up

Beware his tricks:
he has no ethics.

Dump the Trump
 

An Eggsample of Eggregiousness!


Cracked and Scrambled

Humpty Trumpty sits on his wall.
Humpty Trumpty will have a great fall.
All of his Brownshirts and all of his kin
Will never put Trumpty together again.

I am utterly astonished that no one has figured out how to keep him out of the white house
and neuter the republican majority (especially ayn-rand addled Ryan) who are unconscionable in every respect.

Tweeter Don is Tweeter Dumb

Don is nimble, Don is quick
Don spews his logorrhea shtick.

Washington, 2017
 

Washington, 2017

Hitchens! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
America hath need of thee; Thy State:
A fen of yellowish hue doth bog the great
And not-so-great, and all who came to power
In this vile flood, this endless gilded shower
That reigns and rains upon us whilst we wait
For sunlight’s solace. Frightened, filled with hate,
We ask but free-play, comped rooms at Trump Tower.

Thy self was often drunk, and on tv,
Untied in lots of ways and wreathed with smoke
With that great voice that shook the walls and broke
Fierce from thy golden head in fire and ash:
‘Twas thine the gift of grumblings like the sea
That now lies spent–like gamblers’ chips, like cash.

I can't figure out to log in to the new sections. How do I get a password?

Sam, if you want Deep Drills, Jayne probably has the password. PM her?

By the way, nice nod to Milton, bow to Hitchens, and echo of Wordsworth!

The Russians are Coming; the Russians have Come
 

The Russian Roots

What Putin wants
Don notes in tweets.
What Ayn Rand wants
Paul R repeats.


Update: I will not be attending the inauguration.

Hold that submission!!
 

This just in. . . .

According to “Secret Admirers,” in the New Yorker (January 9), the senior editor at First Things is a Trumpest. Now that’s ecumenical.

What a dollski !
 

Donski Pa Russki!

He's like the maryushka doll
The clever Russians made of him:
You open one and there inside
You'll find a smaller one of him
Way down into the Id of him
And it's the only one not hollow.

BURNS AND THE DISUNITED KINGDOM
In honour of Burns Night, my imagined response of the bard to David Cameron's "Scotland in the United Kingdom: An Enduring Settlement" published just two years ago. If that document's title looked hubristic then, it seems ridiculous now after the Supreme Court revealed that the Scotland Act was not worth the paper on which its was printed. As the unelected PM Theresa May hurtles toward, the Brexit cliff-edge and the arms of Trump, Scotland heads for a second Independence Referendum, its secure place in Europe and the exit door from the dissolving UK. (With apologies to Rabbie's "Address to a Haggis".)

ADDRESS TO “AN ENDURING SETTLEMENT”
Hell mend yir smooth, misleading face,
Glib, latest scrap o’ paper chase,
Just like them a’ ye tak’ yir place,
Smith an’ Calman -
Yir every line a new disgrace
A twae-faced sham.

The lying headlines there ye fill,
Yir covers cloak a richt dunghill,
Yir prose purports guid faith until
It’s wisely scanned,
Then from it leaks its purpose ill,
Tae bind oor hand.

Oor wits, watch ony Scot awake,
An’ tak tent o’ each crass mistake,
Weighing its worthless offers fake,
A pauchled pitch;
Then how ye’d wish, ye’d stayed opaque,
Us tae bewitch.

But, vote by vote, we’ll stretch an’ strive,
Deil tak yir clauses, oan we’ll drive,
Till a’ oor weel-swalled ranks arrive
Beside the Thames;
Then poo’rs we’ll claim oan which tae thrive -
Like yir PM’s.

Nae Swiss cantons, frae self-respect,
Nae German Lander would elect,
Tae stomach what ye here expect
Us Scots to swallow.
Cauld kale’s no ‘Vow’. On this reflect.
Come back ra’morrow.

False party leaders ply this trash,
As puffed-up as th’Exchequer’s cash
(Whose boss feared pics o’ ‘Miss Whiplash’
Micht surface yet)
Still hoping we micht be sae rash
Oan ye tae bet.

But mark oor people, freedom fed,
Yir quaking seats record oor tread,
Stuck in oor craw yon cooked-up spread
Maks hot blood thicker,
An’ when we vote again – instead
We’ll just mak’ siccar.

Westminster, see that ye tak’ care
An’ dish us oot a bill o’ fare,
A’ Scotland wants, no’ empty air
O’ ‘Vows’ an’ gruel,
But - if ye love us – best beware
An’ yield oor Ain Rule!

Ralph,
You're right. Deep Drills is password protected but it's only for entries to The Spectator and The Oldie competitions. Sam or anyone else (other than new members as yet without posting privileges) can PM me for the password.

(For those who know what it is -- kindly don't pass it on!! Thanks.)

Jayne

I think you are living in an alternative world, Nigel. Rather like the SNP leaders. Scotland sells most of its good to England, very few to the EU. The Euro would be a disaster for Scotland. Spain will scupper any moves to allow Scotland into the EU because of Catalonia and the Basque country. You KNOW these things. And the Scots do not want independence at present.

I wouldn't bother, but many Americans may think that you (an Italian resident, no?) are talking from experience.