Monthly Archives: April 2016

Sympathy For The Statist

“Hope and Change!”
He said (they screamed)
Until the voucher was redeemed
And cashed in
To claim the big prize
The ~White~ House
Brother, I can spare a dime
(Exasperated sighs)
Any time
Just tax me for it

The noise of that hope has grated
Over our ears
For almost eight years
Unlike government cheese
Which does not grate well
Because it is soft
And oily
Slippery and serpentine
Moldering, not nearly nutritious enough
But hungry, good people
(Both black and white)
Just ate it up
And it was our just dessert
Because we get
The leadership we deserve

And we had not yet trusted
A black person to drive
The bus of state
(From busing to Bubba to cowboy Geo Dubbya)
So we sat a doubtful man
At the front of the world
Gave him the keys
And a gold medal of peace
To try to appease
Our national sin
The racism within
That all extractions
Are complicit in
But it was not his skin
That repaid our sin
Rather the thin
Veneer of socialism
A mockery of reparation

Your license is a joke
Your rugged individualism
By committee
Reorganized at a community meeting
And I hope you enjoyed meeting
People in purple tshirts
Because they are your co-passengers
We’ll be told where we roll
Please sit in the back and be quiet
It’s public transit, pay the damn toll

Ruthless, reckless driving
Run over and out with
So many hands on the wheel
Black rubber, white walls
American Steel
Melting down with an acrid smell
An old, new deal
Another Great Society
Reduced to rubble
Like Rome before it
(Can you hear Nero’s fiddle?)

Hey, diddle diddle
The moon is turning red
We are all filled with Dred
And fine Mr. Scott
A principled man
Would choke on the stench of our burning
Our willfully turning
Ourselves into slaves
Once again
To the State
Without regard to our melanin
Blue bloods, millenial thugs
American Latins
Lighting Cuban cigars
With gringo dollar bills
Self immolating
Selling ourselves for a ride
To what end?

Jeff Jenkins

God help you if you’d give up freedom in exchange for some sense of security or provision that you are not brave enough to reach out and grab for yourselves.

Racism, specifically expressed in slave ownership, is America’s original sin. Socialism, specifically expressed in our lazy desire for a nanny state of the kind that the current President has helped usher in may prove to be our final sin and the death of our republic. We’ll see if we can rally around the new guy.