“Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel.” -Samuel Johnson “Patriotism is like a penis. It’s a perfectly fine thing to have and to take pride in, but when one takes it out and waves it around, we have a problem.” – Dame Maggie Smith
This year it’s a time of mourning. Putin has scorched part of Earth. Losing his war, he might use nukes. Gaia will scream and perish
Snow came on Easter. Flakes like petals from cherry blossoms blessed the ground.
As the celebration of the Resurrection of the Prince of Peace approaches, I find myself bemused by the ways fundamentalist Christians misinterpret Christ’s message. Jesus called for a “brotherhood of man,” but the fundamentalists insist on a tribal community that hates those with foreign beliefs, cultures, and customs. “Blessed be the poor in spirit?” Hell,
Every night the trim ghost Of Marjorie Post Walks through her old home And lets out a deep groan. “Trump’s lying is bad, And his ideas are wacky, But what I find sad Is that he’s so damn tacky!”
An imprudent time traveler named Brad Accidentally killed his granddad. He returned to the present To find himself absent, Which made him go totally mad.
Ukraine is winning the fight, And Putin has gotten uptight. He snarls and he spits, he’s losing his shit, He’s having a huge hissy fit. He may be so crazed that he chooses The nuclear option, and looses His full stock of missiles, fusion and fissile, Ballistics and long distance cruises. Mushroom clouds will rise
Mistaken Optimism I wrote that Putin would be forced to flee Russia. The Russians love him.
The ground has softened And the air is growing sweet. Songbirds have come back.
There once was a tyrant named Vlad Who thought it was terribly sad That Ukraine had gone free. “They should have asked me! I’ll punish them! Things will get bad!” And they did, although not for Ukraine. Vlad’s invasion was bold, but in vain. Zelinsky’s troops won, And Vlad’s had to run. For him, it’s