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Wednesday, January 15, 2025

...And Another Thing...: The Fourth Wise MA(GA)n

When MAGAns stare at Donald's hair, 
on ev'ry MAGAn sleeve
a heart gung ho is worn; we know
they choose to see-no-weave. 

When MAG's take stock of Donald's shock, 
their choice is to believe 
of Donald's thatch Don's ol' line. Natch,
each MAGAn hears-no-weave.

When MAGAns talk, they never balk;
to policy they cleave
as they explain, "'Tis real, Drumpf's mane."
(True MAGAns speak-no-weave.)

And, though it's weird, there's now appear'd
some MAGA nuts named Steve.*
who, though Herr Liar's hair's on fire, 
insist they smell-no-weave. 

     *Bannon...? Miller...? Scalise...? 
The verse isn't specific.

...And Another Thing...: Spooner's Damp Hen

The Rev'rend William Spooner plans a trip to Baltimore: 
"I'll visit Jim 'n' Jude at mome in Damp Hen Halbitore."
But the Rev'rend William Spooner first must sail across the sea
to visit Jim and Judy's Damp Hen digs in Moretalbi. 
Says the Rev'rend William Spooner: "I shall cake a mocial sall
there at Dim and Dudy's jomocile in Damp Hen Morebital."
But the Rev'rend William Spooner, well-intentioned heretofore,
never shall secure, I'm fairly sure, that trip to Baltimore.

Thursday, January 9, 2025

(From The Archives) A Mandala & Its Substratum













(From The Archives) Drumpf Obsesses Over McCain

 


   White House Chef:

"Mr President, here's 

that sandwich you ordered. 

It's just return'd from having

risen into the clouds and 

met the Lord in the air." 

   Drumpf:

"That hero's been 

rapturedI like heroes that 

don't get raptured."

Wednesday, January 8, 2025

(From The Archives) AmalgaMates: Dom DeLouise Brooks

 


(From The Archives) "Goodnight, Lady!" Revisit To A Drumpf Speech From 2021

 

"You damn well best stay home, you tired, you poor. 
You'd find asylum...? Not if up to me.
You yearning huddled masses: you're a bore.
From shithole countries...? Who'd not want to flee...?
Blacks mailing early ballots...? Nope! No more.
Health services...? Day care...? That shit ain't free. 
Don't make me build more wall nor shut no door!
More immigrants from Norway let there be. 
(And yeah: I'll win -- again! -- in '24.)"

Tuesday, January 7, 2025

(From The Archives) An A L[a Recherche Du Temps Perdu]PHABET

     In the USA, administrations last four, maybe eight, years. 
Their impact, for better or worse, drags on for lifetimes.

Ages ambulate for years. Not Advents: four weeks, tops. 
An Afternoon drags on for days – as Act III's do, when flops.
An Attosecond…? Light takes time to make that pair of hops!*
 
     *An attosecond measures the time light takes to travel the 
widthof two hydrogen atoms, about one quintillionth of a second. 
 
Blips be brief. And as for Beats…? But fractions of a Bar.
Some thirty minutes, Bells at sea. (In class, bells fifty are.*)
Biennia engage two years, then bid us, "Au revoir."
 
     *Back in the day, the length of typical high-school algebra 
class in minutes (though feeling far longer to some observers). 
 
The time a Candle takes to burn runs several hundred hours.
Century…? Eight hundred thousand hours – and more -- devours. 
(The first depends on one's comportment counting candlepowers.)   
 
A life spins seven Decades out – in years, drei score und ten
(assuming decades ten years span): so draws the Psalmist's pen. 
(A Day...? In hours, twenty-four: as chimes Old Smoke’s* Big Ben.)

      *A nickname first bestowed on London due to its smog. 
The moniker persisted
 
Each Epoch's length's determin’d by a slew of 'ick'y stuff –
like geometr'ick's, astronom'ick's, phys'ick's... (Had enough...?) 
"Yer Era's just yer E.R.A.,"* opines the baseball buff.

     *In baseball, the average number of runs given up by a pitcher – 
his so-called earned run average – is not a measure of time at all. 
 
Friedman marks six moons have pass'd; Fortnight, fourteen suns. 
February…? Eight plus twenty ('cept in leap year) runs.
Each time frame's fluid: Brubeck (Dave) took Five -- and raked in tons.
(A Femtosecond's fa-a-ar too short: the time buff femtos shuns.)
 
How long's a Generation…? Whom you quiz may well prove weighty.
Galactic years…? Since time began, far fewer've flown than eighty.* 
Gigasecond lasts one second...times one billion, matey!
(Gestations and Gregori'n years…? Nowt…if one hails from Haiti.)

     *About 61 since the Big Bang, as the time it takes the solar system
to orbit the center of the Milky Way (which is the length of a galactic
year) measures about 225 million earth years.
 
A moment lasts a minute and a half. Thus, Half a mo
should, as a rule, last merely five and forty seconds. Go!
(Some sev’ral Heartbeats – seventy plus two – each minute fill.
There may beat more -- or way, way less – if one falls gravely ill.)
Hectosecond takes a hundred seconds, more or less.
How many in an Hour…? Hey! You do the math. (Or guess.)
 
An Instant takes no time at all. Indictions…? Fifteen years.
An Instant’s just a snapshot of "right now" -- in, say, Algiers.
(A verse which blends ‘em both…? Perhaps a limerick of Lear’s...?)
 
Jiffy marks the time elaps’d as light migrates one fermi.
(A fermi’s rarely read about in tomes on taxidermy.)
Jubilee is fifteen years. (Who so explains that term…? Me!)
 
What's 4.32 billion years...? Kalpa. (Hey! Who knew...?)
What’s 10 + 4 4/10 minutes long…? That answer’s Ke.
ke’s Chinese. It’s sound approximates a Frenchman’s bleu.’
Kilosecond’s three halves of a ke… so thereadieu!
  
Lents last forty days. For fasting folks, those prove a strife time.
For Lunar months, slice one half day off thirty! Posed...? A knife time!
Lustrum lasts five years. When you’re in jail, such seems a lifetime.
(The bachelor (confirm’d) spends, in the long run, zero wife time.)
 
Month o’ Sundays…? Thirty weeks. (In tetes-a-tetes, much greater.)
Moment ends at three half-Minutes...nor not one tick later.
('M's teem. But, in the meantime...see ya later, alligator!)

The time 'tween light's turn green and cab horn's honk…? A New York second.
How longs the Night...? Depends on where on earth good souls begin it.
(A billionth of a second…? That’s a Nanosecond, i’n’it…?)

The time 'twixt your snafu and your "Oh, no!"...? One Onosecond.
(The nature of your fuck-up or faux pas can go unreckon'd.) 
Olympiads run four years long: with laurel wreaths they're fecund.

Planck time than Olympiads or moments, runs wa-a-a-ay shorter.
A length of time of three months is the span they call a Quarter.
Res satti has to do with New Year’s Day. It's Latin…sorter.
 

A lamb’s tail’s Shake may fluctuate, as many do each season.   
Semesters, too, may vary: ask your principal the reason.
If Scenes run long, play fans cry, “Wrong!” Such sin's theatric treason.
(A Scaramucci's ten days long, post which he's Drumpf displeasin.')
 
Tatum* is the time ‘twixt tones in Art’s descending scale.
(A Trice, too, is extremely short: it ain’t no “pace de snail.”)
A "Take Two" starts once "One" departs, once "Take One"’s deem’d “No sale!” 

     *Named for jazz great Art Tatum and that pianist's lightning arpeggios.   
 
The Upper Pal’olithic Age lasts 30,000 years.
Vamp 'til ready lasts until the buzzing in one’s ears --
plus fear of failure, nosebleed and amnesia -- disappears.
 
While might last a Watch or two, thought w-a-ay less than a Week. 
An (e)Xasecond’s 1,000,000,000,000,000,000* seconds – so to speak.

     *Pronounced "one quintillion.

Yoctoseconds…? Zeptoseconds…? Both to me be Greek.
(Exhausted I'm, so ends my rhyme...in time to take a leak.) 

Monday, January 6, 2025

(From The Archives) Artificciones: Pin The Tail On The Donkey...? Nope: Him To Jail (Don The Honky)

As of today (originally posted in December of '22) it appears likely that Citizen Drumpf will be indicted for one or more of a whole host of crimes. Furthermore, based on the Everests of evidence gathered and presented by the January 6th Select Committee, it's difficult to imagine any scenario in which the former PotUs could be found innocent. Therefore, once the all-but-inevitable guilty verdict is handed down, and in light of the fact that The Donald has so often selected his own judges -- indeed, his own facts -- surely it would be only fair to afford Herr Hair the opportunity to select his own sentence. When sentencing day arrives, then, Don Wan will be presented by the DOJ with a Spinometer similar to the one pictured below. The ex-president will be encouraged to twirl the Mashie-Niblick Spinner and discover his fate. (If he has been determined to have been at all cooperative, perhaps a best two out of three spins will be allowed.) If the Spinometer points to Adolf, Drumpf will be shot in the head and his bodyburned. The ceremonial gun used will be one provided by Marjorie Taylor Greene, drawn from the armory featured in several of her campaign videos. If Benito is selected, Drumpf will be hung upside-down (ideally-- as was Il Duce, with one or several of his mistresses alongside). In place of the traditional noose, one of The Donald's lengthy MAGA-red neckties will serve. If Uncle Joe comes up, Daffy Donald will breathe his last lying in a pool of his own urine. To insure sufficient volumes of fluid are forthcoming, the disgraced ex-POTUS will be force fed from a dozen or so two-liter bottles of Diet Cola prior to his execution. And if the Drumpf spinner lands on Idi, Donald will finish out his days in exile in Saudi Arabia playing a minimum of 36 holes per day -- on a course consisting entirely of sand traps.  




Sunday, January 5, 2025

(From The Archives) Artificciones: A B/W Color Wheel For The Letter B

...Red Orange Yellow Blue Green Indigo Violet...Rhett Whore Angel Hope Loo Careen Indy Cove Viol Hat...Butler Babylon Baradiel Barack Bathroom Bounce Brickyard Bay Bass Bonnet...


...And Another Thing...: The Fourth Wise MA(GA)n

When MAGAns stare at Donald's hair,  on ev'ry MAGAn sleeve a heart gung ho is worn; we know they choose to see-no-weave.  When MAG...