Annoying Conservatives

If you really want to annoy a conservative, try to work the following words or phrases into the conversation: environmentalist, feminist, civil libertarian, labor organizer, teacher, gay activist, liberal, Obama, Bill Clinton, global warming, Dubya, evolution, big bang, abortion, 1st Amendment, marijuana, gun control, Al Sharpton, Hillary, ACLU, MSNBC, tax hike, Koch Brothers, middle class, Latino, New York City, California, Hurricane Katrina, Water-boarding, FDR, Watergate, AND slavery.

Have fun with it. See how many of them you can get in a single sentence. It doesn't have to make sense, just as long as it's grammatically correct:

"While visiting New York City for a ACLU conference on global warming -- highlighted by a speech by gay activist Bill Clinton -- Al Sharpton told me that most of the funds set aside to help victims of Hurricane Katrina were used by Dubya Bush to buy marijuana for his Latino civil libertarian friends at MSNBC."

Maggie Thatcher

Margaret Thatcher has been dead for over a year now. Few are still in mourning. As a matter of fact, there have been so many people dancing on Maggie's grave they've had to re-sod the grass at the cemetery six times since she died.

Resilience

Resilience is the most important quality known to man or beast. It’s what we overcome in life that marks our merit, not what we accomplish.

Poser

A haircut, a shave, and new shades

Dark Ages

According to history books, the scientific enlightenment began over five hundred years ago. After all that time in the light, it's amazing how many people's minds are still firmly rooted in the dark ages.

Listening to the Rain

A rain poem for a rainy day; written when I was approaching my poetic prime and not watching it recede in the rear view mirror:

Listening to the rain
Beating against the window pane
Pounding the roof and bending the trees
Soaking the ground and wetting the eaves
A steady refrain (this evening's rain).

Listening to the sound
Of torrents cascading down
Banging the walk and cracking the street
Delighting the rose and feeding the wheat
Water earthward bound (judging by the sound).

Listening in the dark
Kept from sleep by visions stark
Of homeless wraiths unable to rest
Of saints and sinners, damned and blessed
Of troubled hearts (alone in the dark).

Woodrow on William

"I won't say that President Taft is fat, but when he sits around the Oval Office he sits around the Oval Office!" Joke attributed to Woodrow Wilson, November 1912.

Let's Kill Christmas

Let's really declare war on Christmas, I mean with guns and stuff. We could bomb The North Pole into submission and send clones to hunt down anyone in a Santa Claus outfit. Texas and Florida could abandon lethal injection as a means of execution and replace it with boiling criminals (and anyone in favor of restrictions on gun ownership) in their own puddings. Let's take the "Christ" out of Christmas AND the "Thanks" out of Thanksgiving and the "New" out of New Years. What do you think, people? Let's give Fox News a really substantive story to report on this holiday season.

Not THAT Word

I've complained about this before. People don't pass away, they die. The term "passing away" is an affront to both the living and the dead. It's also -- as a euphemism -- an appallingly un-creative use of the English language. If you really don't want to use THAT word, there are several colorful phrases that can be used instead; each of them with considerably more pizzazz that "passing away." As a replacement, I suggest one of the following:

1] Simple. Croaked, Bought It, Snuffed It, Bit It, Checked Out, D'd.

2] Earthy. Kicked the Bucket, Pushing Up Daisies, Six Feet Under, Joined the Bone Club, Joined the Coffin Club, Food For Worms, Plant Nutrient, Sleeping with the Fishes, Buried in the Rich Brown Earth.

3] Religious. Gone to Meet His Maker, Gone to Meet Saint Peter, Entered the Pearly Gates, Singing with the Choir Invisible, Crossed the River Jordan, Joined God and His Angels, Exchanged his Hat for a Halo, Joined Atman, Merged with the Godhead.

4] Poetic. Cast Off this Mortal Coil, Sleeping the Big Sleep, Been Externalized, Rejoined Creation.

5] Clever. Left the Party Early, Left the Station Ahead of the Train, Abandoned the Game, His Number was Called, Taken His Final Bow, Drank His Final Bud.

Try one. See what rolls off the tongue easily and what clogs up your throat. It all depends on personal taste and your sense of proper decorum. Maybe you could come up with something on your own. Something new and unique. Be creative. Make a game of it. The whole family could play.

Bay Leaf

I'm taking George Carlin's advice. Today, instead of using deodorant, I'm putting a bay leaf under each arm. It won't keep me from perspiring, but I'll smell like soup. Bean with bacon for me too, dude.

WTF

Some people see something and say WHY? Some people dream something and say WHY NOT? I see something in a dream and I say WHAT THE FUCK?

A Free Man

A free man looks not to the sky

to find a way to live or a reason to die.

He knows whether he sinks or swims

depends exclusively on him.

Only slaves, dependent on divine whim

need a cue to laugh or cry.

A free man invokes no other name

when giving the credit or placing the blame.

He accepts full responsibility

for all he is or ever can be.
Only cowards, so terrified of being free

make any other claim.

A free man allows chains of no kind

to muddle the truth or place fetters on his mind.

He seeks but to live and learn

forsaking hearsay at every turn.

Only idiots, thoroughly convinced rebels burn

are otherwise inclined.

A free man lives not in hope or dread

of rewards or punishments after he is dead.

He believes this life is all we get

and tries to make the best of it.

Only fools, creating thrones and bottomless pits

can see blood where none is shed.

Inarticulation

Perfection is an idea, not a reality. No matter how long or hard you practice something, it will never be done perfectly. Work to improve your performance, but accept your flaws. Inarticulation is the way of the world.

Advice Unheeded

Everybody gets hurt, it’s an occupational hazard of life, but you shouldn’t let your fear of pain prevent you from living. You worry about your inability to love, but build a wall around your heart that a half ton of dynamite and a library of poetry couldn’t knock down. You can’t be swept off your feet if you glue your shoes to the floor. You’ve got to take a chance on somebody some time.

As Woody Allen observed “eighty percent of life is just showing up.” Well, I think that eighty percent of finding love is just staying open to the possibility; in finding the perfections in the people that approach us and not the flaws. If you search for flaws in a person, you will always find some. You can always come up with reasons why someone is inappropriate for you. If that’s all you’re looking for. . .

Big Sky

Hey, for anyone's who's interested, this is what Montana looks like. They don't call this Big Sky country for nothing. Look at the horizon; there isn't a tree in sight; it's all sky. It really makes you feel small and insignificant; yet, at the same time, larger than you've ever been. . .

Average

No one thinks they’re average. Everybody thinks they’re better looking, more intelligent, and more moral than they really are. If we saw ourselves as others see us, the suicide rates would skyrocket.

Biography

Never tell anybody more about yourself than they want to know. Keep the biography short. If anyone wants the long version they’ll ask for it.

A Dozen Haiku

today is special
the sky may be dark and grey
but we're together

after days and weeks
everything falls in place
a poem writes itself

how clumsy of me!

i've spilled coffee in your lap!

and you wanted tea!

the senses betray

eyes can be closed and ears shut

when the heart demands

on Easter morning
children (cruel in their young tastes)
eat candy crosses

the brilliant aura
red around the setting sun
is colored by dirt

every drop of blood

drawn from my incisioned vein

beats my heart faster

the oppressive night

closes about my shoulders

like a leaden cloak

melting icicles
send tinted drops of water
spiraling earthward

thunder broke the sky
shattered pieces fell earthward
striking the landscape

the phantom moon

silver in its ghostly glow

haunts my seeking eyes

above the thunder

mothers call their children home

as if with one voice

No Man's Land

I fight the battle. I charge ahead. I retreat. I hide behind fences. I stick out my head. I shoot. I dodge and dive. I focus ahead. I dream of home. And I wait. For cease fire. Or armistice. Or victory. Or death.

Bannockburn 1314

What better way to celebrate the 700th anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn but with Scotland's re-birth as an independent nation?

KId With a Tray

A bowl of soup on a tray. A glass of ginger ale. A pair of socks for your feet. A second pillow for your head. A place on the sofa. A day off school. A mother in the next room. A father home by six. When you're a kid. Illness is a piece of cake.

 

Shakespeare's Birthday

450 Years Old. . .

And still going strong

Pulpit

It’s hard to practice what you preach. It’s better to step down from your pulpit, freely and untainted by hypocrisy, than to fall off the stage in the middle of a sermon.

Be a Jain

Every breath we take destroys microscopic life. Every word we utter ruins somebody else’s dream. Be a Jain; keep your mouth shut as much as possible. Live your life, but do no harm.

Orwell and Huxley

A hemorrhaging of images and words, signifying nothing:

A little Nineteen Eighty-Four, a little Brave New World, the U.S. Is fast becoming our worst nightmare. The top bloats itself on the blood of the bottom and the middle is being squeezed out of existence. Big Brother is watching our every move and we are told to take our soma and be happy. The Haves and the Have Nots share nothing but strands of DNA. The data speaks loudly, but tells us nothing. Art recycles itself and eventually loses its significance. Beauty is diminished and real achievement cheapened. The pursuit of happiness is a folly few can now afford. Passage rites are shortened and systematized. Childhood ends early and drudgery begins as screen time measures the years. Poverty haunts our days and ghastly shadows upset out dreams. Thoreau echoes in our ears. Desperation so quiet and so pervasive it barely registers in our brains.

 
         

This is the beginning of the end, people. A horseless apocalypse. The final chapter of a noble book (premium edition). Life now ends in the womb and death begins at birth. The graveyards stretch coast to coast. The right to be born is defended with automatic weapons and the assertive nods of elderly men waving confederate flags. And the right to be fed is addressed with genetically engineered fruits and warehoused cheese. America, land of the free. Sold to the highest bidder. Bought by inherited wealth and nursed on bourgeois values gone to seed, crony capitalism, and the unholy union of business and government. The police state is here. Fascism has finally been perfected. Democracy coughs up one final line of patriotic verse and is heard no more. Orwell turns beneath the earth and Huxley returns to his hash pipe. And God sleeps in the margins.

The Enemy

Dark is his face, dark as the night

Sunken in shadow, shielded from the light.

Cruel and conceited, pleased at the sight

Of fear.

Holding it dear

My enemy draws near.

Through teeth sharp as knives a challenge is hissed

Words of iron crawl through the mist.

Gloved in steel, a verbal fist

Upon me is laid.

From the heel of his boot to the tip of his blade

I have seen the enemy and I am dismayed.

Cold is his voice, cold as the tomb

Soft and deceitful, reeking perfume.

Calm and quiet, a wolf costumed

As a lamb.

In full command

My enemy makes his stand.

Mocking my courage, he crosses his heart

Begrudging the ground that keeps us apart.

Considering me but an upstart

Easily dispatched.

From the jaws of victory defeat has been snatched

I have seen the enemy and I am over-matched.

Closer I draw, close as I dare

Breathing labored, gasping for air.

Daunted dumb, nerved by the nightmare

Now faced.

Courage misplaced

My enemy's hand seems graced.

Dropping his hood, he reveals himself to me

Triumphantly parading his true identity.

I was a fool not to see

The end of the game.

After years of battle I'm ready to proclaim:

"I have seen the enemy and I now know his name!"

In horror I stand, transfixed by the sight

Sword limp at my side, unable to fight.

I am undone, overwhelmed by the might

Of my foe.

His eyes aglow

My enemy strike the first blow.

Losing my balance, I fall to the ground

My limbs aching, my head spinning around.

Hell bent and Heaven bound

If such places be.

Though the truth has been divulged I am far from free

I have seen the enemy and the enemy is me. . .

Kelli and Max

Walt and Mickey and Michael

Turns out, Walt Disney was a cartoon character. Mickey Mouse was the real head of Disney Studios until fellow rodent, Michael Eisner took over in 1984.

   

Sense and Application

Once upon a time when you wanted to know what the weather was like you looked out the window. Now you have to check the weather apt on your smart phone. Am I the only person who finds humor in this? We are our technology. One of these days there won't be any we or any our, there will only be the technology.

Sleep Walker

Possible Sketch for SNL. Sleepwalker, Texas Ranger. He is a crusading lone star state law officer who solves crimes and beats people up in his sleep. He wears a cowboy hat to bed and showers with his boots on. Starring Upchuck Norris. . .

The Lonely

Do trees in the forest long to join roots with other bark-bearing plants? Do islands in an archipelago dream of joining together with other land masses? Do stars in the night sky gravitate toward other distant points of light in their constellations? None of these things chooses to be alone; yet, if they could choose, would they choose to be otherwise?

I have legs to carry me from one location to another. I have a mouth and a voice to communicate my thoughts. I have arms to embrace the world and those within the world. I am, both, one and one of many; yet I am as alone as any tree or island or star; quiet in the forest, isolated by ocean waves, or lost in the vastness of space. Alone is not lonely. Lonely is not alone.

Remember

My version of Yeats' When You Are Old, written long, long ago:

When you are old and full of sleep

When the wells of time are running deep

Take out this poem and think of me

Lamenting then life and love's debris.

Though many loved you, loved you dear

And desperately wanted you near

Only one loved your soul and learned

To love your joys and sorrows each in turn.

Remember the soft look your eyes had yesterday

Yet those same eyes you turned away

And love sped then much too soon

And hid among the shadows of the moon.

Check, Please!

Why is the bill in a restaurant called the check? I don't know, but under normal circumstances, isn't a check pretty much the opposite of a bill? Hey, you can pay the check by having them bill your credit card. Or pay your credit card bill by writing out a check. And what if your name is Bill? Or you come from the Czech Republic? Or your server comes from the Czech Republic? Or your server's named Bill and he comes from the Czech Republic? Then things really get complicated.

Easter Candy

Chocolate crosses. Caramel gallows. Vanilla electric chairs. Nougat gas chambers. Jelly bean firing squads. The confectioneries of death. Laid in baskets of straw. Candy introductions to a violent world. Sweet metaphors for a terrible end.

Easter

Today is Easter, but that means nothing to me anymore. I grew up. I lost the faith. And everyone who cared about keeping up the traditions associated with the day -- religious or secular -- has died. This year there were no eggs to color, no baskets to pack with plastic grass and chocolate bunnies, no new coats or dresses or shoes to wear, and no ham dinner to sit down to with relatives.

It is the nature of paradise that it is always eventually lost. Time rips it from our grasp like centrifugal force pulls material objects from our hands and arms. The merry-go-round spins madly out of control and all we hold dear -- or should hold dear -- ends up broken on the ground. Buildings collapse; people disappear; and the rituals and rites that life was built upon when we were young are abandoned or forgotten.

Special has gone the way of the dinosaur, I'm afraid. Its white bones have been picked clean by the ravenous years and its spirit swallowed up by reason and chance. What has been lost will never be found. Memories of family and faith, black and white photos of isolated moments, are all that remain. I can't go home again, but the thought of home will haunt me for the rest of my days.

The Kids are All Right