Numb. 1022 THE DOW: 'Sup, Dog?

DOW ENDS THE YEAR
  AT ALL-TIME HIGH

            ———————

Does this mean THE DOW wants us to die?

Is Covid-19 good for the market?

Whence came this rally? Did Covid spark it?

Do diseases and markets move so in tandem?

What's going on? Is it ALL random?

A celebration of Trumpish “successes”?

Relief at his passing? My best guess is. (Moral less-es.)

Are world markets demonstrating perversity?

Or are they showing strength in adversity?

OR, like the rest of us, do they not understand

and simply meander, proceeding as “planned”,

discounting reality along the way.

(“Fiddle-dee-dee, tomorrow is another day”?)

Have they no inkling?

Is it Magical Thinking?

Wishes as horses, beggars all flying,

denying disease, denying dying?

Numb. 1021 January 6: Pence And Suspense

What WILL Mike do in one week's time?

Will he follow Fat Donald's orders?

Will he say their defeat was a crime,

blame socialist FAKE NEWS reporters?

Will he claim, in the name of his lord,

their “loss” was due to electoral fraud?

That Trump/Pence triumphed, a BIGLY landslide?

That GOP governors are traitors who lied?

That judges who Fat Donald installed

are Dems-in-disguise who should be keel-hauled?

That the cowardly 6-3 SUPREMES

are treating Donald exceeding mean,

refusing him his due recompense

solely because he has no evidence?

Evidence? Schmevidence! Mere technicality.

What Donald wishes, THAT IS legality.

One way or the other it is ending soon.

Can Donald prevail? “We'll see.” Stay tuned.

Numb. 1020 A Libertarian Take On Vaccine Distribution

Lunch is not free.

Why should vaccine be?

We DO NOT approve.

All must pay

is what we say.

Those who cannot

should be removed

in any manner deemed expeditious.

Though some may say this is malicious,

it is, in the main, highly propitious.

Opposing views we find suspicious.

It is insane to try to deny

the lower orders deserve to die.

Numb. 1019 Brinksmanship On The Sinking Ship

“Mr. President, it’s time to end this dark charade … you’re cheering for an undemocratic coup … King Lear of Mar-a-Lago, ranting about the corruption of the world.”

Et tu, Rupert? 

Then fall Cæsar!

Kid-DING!

Obviously!

A joke. (NOT a lie!)

No Trump or Cæsar,

can really die.

We live forever,

our names festooned

on tombstones of countries

we lead to doom.

The world is ours.

A personal toy.

If we so choose,

ours to destroy.

Proud GOP, flock to my banners.

Do not even think Sic semper tyrannis.

Numb. 1018 Good Peoples' Dilemma (or Uneasy Lie The Heads)

For he that is not against us is on our part. — Mark 9:40 (KJV)

He that is not with me is against me … — Matthew 12:30 (KJV)

If only everyone thought as we did,

it would be heaven on earth.

… UN-less they pretended and this deceit

was intended to hide their mocking and mirth

at our beliefs, our righteous ways,

of the goodness in us inherent.

If they, instead of nodding their heads,

in private espoused viewpoints aberrant,

opposing what we KNOW is true, 

secretly scheming and plotting

the overthrow of the status quo,

claiming — inanely! — it's actually rotten

from deep within, from some ancient “sin”

which, were it true, we'd wish forgotten.

Who can we turn to, who can we trust,

who, truly, is on our side?

Can we keep faith with those who “agree”?

How can we know they are not lying?

Are they all in the enemy's thrall?

Could be they are. We'd best kill them all.

Numb. 1017 Greetings

WHEN they graduated from law school eight close friends,

Aram G. Bemerian

William A. Bright

Frederick Douglas Days

Hussein En-Mayal

Angela Mayor

Roger W. M. Musserbee III

Tinisha X. White

and Iris C. Yorkris,

despite their varying backgrounds, interests and political leanings, vowed to one day form their own firm. 

TWENTY-FOUR years flew by.

 

THOUGH they had kept “in touch” through the alumni bulletin and annual December holiday letters, dispersed as they were to major firms (law and otherwise), private practice, politics, elected and appointed office, they had forgotten their plan until last December when each, completely unbeknownst to all others, mentioned it in the annual letter.

RECOGNIZING that this had to be more than a remarkable coincidence, they decided to talk it over at their twenty-fifth reunion. 

 

LAST June at the reunion (on ZOOM, of course) and discussed the idea and decided that they were ready to take the plunge. 

 

ACCORDINGLY, each wrapped up his or her practice, job, elected or appointed office and on December 20, they announced the formation of their new firm:

         Mayor Days Bemerian Bright

    En-Mayal Yorkris Mussersbee White.

Keep the Soul in Solstice,

The PROPRIETOR.

Numb. 1016 Looking Ahead With Some Trumpadation

The beast is fierce. And he's wounded.

There is no telling what he might do.

There's reason to fear getting too near.

His lair is NOT a petting zoo.

Even unharmed he attacked the unarmed.

A trait he considers part of his charm.

“Always attack, stab front and back.

Quick, easy victory. If you've got the knack.”

And let me stress, he's known naught but success.

(Though bloating suggests he over-ingests.)

A hero complete, immune to defeat.

(He can dance without moving his feet.)

He knows he's been cheated. How else could he lose?

But with Bibi and Jared, he can not blame THE JEWS.

That is a pity. Still all loyal followers

attribute his sorrows to people like Soros.

And scheming, deceased, Hispanic dictators

abetted and aided by domestic traitors

who stole sure triumph from his large, manly hands.

Is there no succor? JUSTICE DEMANDS!

In less than a moon-month from this very day

will he, in peace — and for good — go away?

Or will he take arms against troubled seas

and conquer them all. (As he did disease.)

Will he resort to martial law?

Release the kraken, unleash dogs of war?

Do what he must, clearing the field?

One thing is certain: he'll never yield.

Would he accept as validation

presidency of the Confederate Nation?

Be Tsar of the Proud Boys in NRA-land?

Or will the sun set on Donald's Last Stand?

(To all appearances it's not here or there,

but Donald, like Custer, has long yellow hair.)

Numb. 1015 Our Place In The Universe

Is there a comet with Earth's name upon it?

Has a meteor drawn a bead on the planet?

Will a godsend from Mother N

demolish completely our world, goldurnit?

The Universe is a very big place,

The Earth is a tad less impressive.

A spot on a dot, a dust mote in space.

A sphere there could not be much less of.

We are, if you please, but holes in cheese.

An emptiness within the void.

If we were destroyed by an asteroid

no one would be miffed or annoyed.

Numb. 1014 The Coup-Coup Crock

I don't want to be PRESINET.

I do it just to be NICE.

Consider the money and heartache it costs me,

I've paid a helluva price.

I've had to actually sit with Mike Pence —

low-IQ, real boring guy —

who does not enjoy boy-to-boy talk

and balks when I mention great tits and thighs.

Then there's McConnell — the son of a bitch —

who acts on his own (buy enlarge) 

and refuses to do what I tell him to,

ignoring THE FACT that I am in charge.

And don't get me started on the crappy judges

somebody made me appoint.

Illegal ingrates who rule against me.

I hafta tell ya, they disappoint.

And Goddamned GOP governors …

supposed to be on my side?

Many among them, even some Southerners,

squawk about letting “the voters” decide.

Including the many who voted against me

in early and mail-it-in voting

on “voting” machines rigged by dead Venezuelans.

I know this is true. It's Rudy I'm quoting!

Even Bill Barr (who once was a star),

it turns out denies THE TRUTH

that I was cheated and swindled and robbed.

All because I can proffer no proof.

Proof and facts? I lowered taxes.

Made the economy boom,

saving the jobs of dumb white slobs,

saving the country from Democrat doom.

When China virus tried to expire us

I cancelled flights, I closed the borders,

I drank Clorox. I hydroxychloroquined.

AND I tweeted EXECUTIVE ORDERS.

As you have heard I'm a man of my word.

These assassins and all of their knives,

though they betray me, they can never slay me.

My word is my bond. Ask my bankers. (And wives.)

 

Numb. 1013 These Days

These days spelling, along with arithmetic,

has gone the way of the buggy whip.

Siri, Google, Alexa, Cortana

are gonna tell ya whatever you wanna.

Go ahead, ask 'em any old question

ask for directions, seek their suggestions,

say, “Tell me a story”, “Where in hell am I?”,

“Is that gal — or guy — a Cancer, a Gemini?”

They DO THE MATH. They check your spelling.

Should maybe we wonder where this is going?

They know where you are. They know where you've been.

They know what you do. They know what you spend.

They keep track of you. Your family. Your friends.

They follow you. WITH A ZOOM LENS!

I am not paranoid! But it is annoying.

Not knowing if I'm employed or employing.

Who is the servant? Which is the master?

Is this technology our final disaster?

Is it just me or do our cell phones

look very much like tiny tombstones?

Numb. 1012 What Matters

OF COURSE, Black Lives Matter.

The question is to whom. And how much.

White billionaires, with all of their cares,

have zero concern for others, as such.

People — all colors and stripes —

care for their own kind, 

who they see as sisters and brothers.

As to all others … well, never mind.

The repeated refrain of the majority:

“Superiority is our authority.”

Those who see “strangers” as a priority

are doomed to remain a tiny minority.

Numb. 1011 The Down-market Hollow Men

Planet Earth, she dead.

We're the reason why.

Can we undo the Anthropocene?

Our meandering war on the world.

If we could, would we? If we would, should we?

If we changed our ways, what would the good be?

Our role is that we exploit.

We “improve”. (Up to a point.)

Making stuff “better”. Moving things faster.

(Plastering over our every disaster.)

Layers on layers, we dragon slayers

lay waste to every environ.

Might not it be best for us to expire?

Or to cut back? To semi-retire?

Would the world gain a sense of tranquility,

a bit of stability, some renewability?

The human species: has it been a success?

Or have we made helluva mess?

Is it today  — was it always — too late?

Has our FATE (all CAPS) tracked us down?

Have we, still, some room to maneuver?

Have we cracked up? Is it all breaking down?

Are we THE WAY that the world ends

without bang, whimper, or shout?

Is our pollution the final solution?

Could Covid-19, in the end, wipe us out?

Is Mother Earth, fed up with our crap,

calling on Gabriel to come and play taps?

I'd say the answer is, at least, perhaps.

But, in the meantime, time for a nap.

Numb. 1010 Mitch's Barr Misfit

An indigenous legend said a great darkness would end,

when the Great Ancient Turtle's manhood descended.

Therefore, I think it fitting and fair

to congratulate Mitch on growing a pair.

To Donald he wrote a note in which the gist

is “Life is a bitch. Sorry dude, Mitch.”

AG Bill Barr also departed

leaving Donald bereft, broken-hearted.

A man he believed who saw law as he did

an obstacle to efficient quid pro quid,

who'd have stood at his side in the White House Rose Garden

as he gave his cronies executive pardons.

Numb. 1009 A Going Concern (a FOX Business News Commentary)

Do THE POOR have a right to live?

Why should we care if they starve?

Dickens was wrong. Scrooge got it right.

All of your POOR? Criminal larva.

Heedlessly breeding, breathing our air.

Taking up space. Why should we care

if they live or they die?

I can't imagine a bad reason why

their so-called lives are our concern.

They want to live? Then let them earn.

WORK FOR FOOD!

THEY don't need our money.

They'd only waste it.

I am not being funny.

They deserve penury.

Beware their knavery.

Here's an idea.

Reintroduce slavery.

Not, or course, based entirely on race.

There's White trailer trash all over the place

who, though they may vote the right way,

are not of our kind. IN ANY WAY. 

And do not tell me that but for God's grace

we, the elite, would be in their place.

Any damned God who could care to bestow 

concern on these creatures …? 

Clearly, a God we do not need to know.

If God created them, they're part of his oeuvre

so we imagine he wants them to starve.

It's a God-given duty — ours to fulfill —

to let them starve. It is God's will.

Numb. 1008 Parting Shot (first draft, without bone spurs)

If I can't be PRESINET, 

I'll hold my breath

until I turn even more orange.

You'll be sorry. 

For cheating me.

I will not eat my porridge.

I will tear out my hair.

I won. 

Fair and square.

You don't deserve me. 

I hate you. 

So there!

I hope you all catch Covid-19.

's what you deserve. 

Treating me mean.

Mean and nasty. 

Nasty and lousy.

You and dumb doctors. 

Birxie and Fauci.

Meanwhile, I, 

departing the scene,

will take all the Clorox. 

AND MY VACCINE!

I will eat burgers. 

Drink Cokes. 

Play golf.

I will laugh while you gasp and cough.

It's what you deserve. 

I'm telling you, folkses.

Doubting me. 

Beliving HOAXES.

Numb. 1007 Toward What End?

Might not it “BE BEST” to let Donald stay?

Melanie lets him … tho' that's day to day.

He seems … disinclined? … to go away.

Casting aside our justified fears,

we let him hang on for four more years?

Or do we do the Solomon thing?

(Which could be a bit of a laugh.)

Donald becomes Confederate King —

we cut the country in half?

Naturally, we'd reorder borders …

lay down a whole lot more walls.

Tho' this gives rise … two domestic disorders —

what you'd expect when an empire falls.

(A ruler who has no clue what he's doin',

is bound to lead to everyone's ruin.)

Rome, as they say, did not fall in a day.

Tho' split in two, it declined anyway.

Eventually, everything — in the end — does.

That's how it is. (And always was.)

In the interim, betwixt collapses,

you have to choose between perhapses.

Donald stays? 

Or Donald goes? 

Which disaster

has him depart —

FOREVER! — faster?

Numb. 1006 Whatever It Takes (the Business Mens' Political Creed)

We maintain everything's fine

if we can say the trains are on time.

If keeping on schedule involves kitten killing,

that is a sacrifice we will make willingly.

The economy requires reliable transport,

so kitty-cat lives are not important.

As with paws, so with the laws.

You do what you have to only because

anything that could diminish your profit

must be opposed, you have to stop it.

Best business practice always depends

on whatever means lead to your ends.

Numb. 1005 Points To Ponder

I find this an encouraging sign:

regardless how Republicans whine

“Covid restrictions are very unfair”,

they do not propose the answer is prayer.

Also of interest, the curious fact:

no one among these GOP hacks

says a sure cure is lower taxes.

Where GOP sees no more than veniality,

reality shows Donald's amoral totality.

As you watch this grand denouement,

ponder not, “What doth Donald want?”

Waste no concern on this cretinous simian

as he sinks into deservèd oblivion.

Numb. 1004 Vaccine Priority:The King's Gambit (or The Queens Bandit's Next Trick)

Who will be first to get the vaccine?

Naturally, those with the dough.

Then, perhaps, winning contestants

on a brand new TV reality show?

Hosted by (fanfare here, please)

the petulant president who caused this disease

to get a firm foothold, allowed it to spread,

until, as foretold, thousands lay dead,

who ignored the facts, who championed quacks,

who abandoned the combat to uninformed hacks,

who lied and denied while followers died,

gasping their last crying, “He's on our side.”

His ratings, of course, will go through the roof.

(If you're on TV, you don't need vote fraud proof.)

His fans will lap up whatever is said.

Instead of “You're fired!” he'll tell them, “YOU'RE DEAD!”

Numb. 1003 Now It Can Be Told (straight from a genius president brain)

There never was any virus.

Whole damn thing was a hoax.

Like the moon is made of green cheese

or allegations I binge Diet Cokes.

I cross my fingers whenever I “promise”,

when I take a vow or an oath.

I can screw whores and break all the laws.

On a good day, I often do both.

Three raw vaccines, I made them finer.

Perfected them to a T.

Thereby combating fake virus from China.

All LEGAL voters voted for me.

I remain the same: a sane stable genius,

not the least bit unhinged.

Everyone knows I won the election.

Just ask the lunatic fringe.

Rudy will show I was cheated

out of a victory.

General Mike Flynn says, “Declare Martial Law”.

Will I or won't I? Maybe. We'll see.

Numb. 1002 Vaccine And Waning

This vaccine business? Part of the plot —

this virus conspiracy hoax.

Concocted entirely by Soros and Gates

just to corrupt us American folks.

Shots in the arm will do us harm.

Maybe convert us all to Islam?

Destroy our sperm, control our thoughts.

Make manly men wear girly culottes.

No way. No siree. They can't do that to me.

I intend to stay as I am.

I already know all I need to know.

And guess what? It isn't from pot

like those communist socialist smoked

while making up this horrible hoax.

Numb. 1001 Some Ware, Oh, For The Rainbow, Unicorns

THE GUARDIAN

Cultured meat, produced in bioreactors without the slaughter of an animal, has been approved for sale by a regulatory authority for the first time. (More)

Let us pretend things are getting better.

Let us pretend we'll be fine.

Let us ignore all of our history.

Let us pretend water is wine.

Let us pretend we're vanquishing evil

or it's, at least, on the wane.

Let's just ignore how all of our progress

exacerbates our everyday pain.

Yes, let's rejoice how this new technique

will eliminate animal suffering,

how meat grown in vats, without killing anything,

will enable environmental recovery.

With lab-grown meat we won't be what we eat,

not chicks, not lambs, calves nor piglets.

None of our dishes will come from dead fishes.

This progression is surely prodigious.

For special treats we may even eat meat

from cells that come from ourselves

which, while nutritious and, doubtless, delicious,

will prove, down deep, we are still cannibals.

Numb. 1000 So Unfair (a short list of Trumplaints)

I am not green. I have no bulk.

I am not The Incredible Sulk!

I meant what I said and I said what I meant.

I won re-election. By two-hundred percent!

Rule of law vs. rule of men.

I'm talking now. You're talking then.

I was robbed. Election is fake.

I'm not a loser. It's a mistake.

The Founders were all rich white men.

I intend to return to the time when

moneyed white men made all the decisions.

And, for the poor, we had debtors prisons.

BLACKS and JEWS love me. LATINX, too.

So do all WOMEN. Except a few

low IQ losers, damned frigid bitches.

I would not ever get into their britches.

Of all the presidents, I am the best

who ever sat back of the Resolute desk.

As for the others, SAD bunch of wimps.

Not to get nasty, but … chumps and chimps?

Bores doing chores, pure plain vanillas.

Unlike yours truly, the King of best sellers.

The biggest, the fiercest, the bravest, the best.

Was any nation ever so blessed

as to be led by a genius like me

who banished Kaepernick for taking a knee,

who dealt with all issues profoundly, completely

and was re-elected totally, neatly?

(Except that everyone conspired to cheat me?)

But, I am no LOSER. THEY cannot defeat me.

I tweet loud and proud, my banner unfurled,

looking down on you all from the top of the world.

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