Tag Archives: rants

Election Postmortem


“Indeed I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just.”

-Thomas Jefferson


“And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”

-W. B. Yeats


“Nobody ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public.”

-H. L. Mencken

For this election, I’ve got a little list.

With apologies to Gilbert & Sullivan.  To the tune of I’ve Got a Little List from The Mikado.  Chorus is in Bold Italics.


Martyn Green as Ko-Ko, 1930s

As someday it may happen that a victim must be found, I’ve got a little list — I’ve got a little list.

Of society offenders who might well be underground, and who never would be missed — who never would be missed!

The lady whose email servers have problems of their own

Thirty-three thousand disappear like a stone.

There’s the party outsider who praises in raucous tones

Every party but his and every country but his own.

And the election outcome denialists,

They’d none of ’em be missed — they’d none of ’em be missed!


He’s got ’em on the list — he’s got ’em on the list;

And they’ll none of ’em be missed — they’ll none of ’em be missed.


Apologists, deniers, spin room activists,

Irrational supporters who get me really pissed.

All TV journalists who speaks as though listeners care

And the other ones who claim to be balanced and fair.

The dead who vote Democrat but that theory is not sound,

For you see, Mayor Giuliani, they are already underground.

WikiLeaks, tax returns, foundation donations and grants

And all those fanatics who substitute enthusiasm for facts.

And that singular anomaly, the lady plagiarist — I don’t think she’d be missed — I’m sure she’d not he missed!


He’s got her on the list — he’s got her on the list;

And I don’t think she’ll be missed — I’m sure she’ll not be missed!


There’s the pestilential congressmen who give democracy a pass.

The judicial obstructionists who are running out of gas.

And apologetic statesmen of a compromising kind,

Who defend outrageous statements by saying – “Oh, never mind.”

Third party candidates without a world view

The little, lyin’, disgusting, crooked, low-energy crew

Bad hombres, nasty women and also you-know-who

The task of filling up the blanks I’d rather leave to you.

But it really doesn’t matter whom you put upon the list,

For they’d none of ’em be missed — they’d none of ’em be missed!


You may put ’em on the list — you may put ’em on the list;

And they’ll none of ’em be missed — they’ll none of ’em be missed!



I really hate – dislike, am not keen on, disapprove of, cannot stand, wish it never existed, should not become its own reality show – static electricity.  Winter weather, combined with cold, windy, dry conditions, make me even more curmudgeonly about this phenomenon.

I am sure that I share this dislike equally with furry creatures like cats who I would otherwise despise.  Attempts to touch conductive objects – computers, light switches, metal poles – result in shocks so severe that I should by now be a prime candidate for the negative effects of shock therapy.

Just when you think it’s safe to touch that metallic surface with impunity, Mother Nature decides to give you another reason to wish that Mother Nature had never existed either.  Static electricity should be confined to those old high school science experiments where girls with long hair are asked to be Guinea pigs and attach themselves to Van de Graaff generators so that their hair can stick straight out.


Static electricity could be available in the spice section of the grocery store.  Need a little static?  Add 1 teaspoon to a full glass of water and stir.  Otherwise, I see no real need to fry the ends of my fingers every time I walk across a carpet in winter and reach for a metallic doorknob.  Zot!!  What’s the point, other than to get me all worked up?

At these moments I revive my inner Ezra Pound and say:

Winter is icumen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm, 
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
And how the wind doth ramm!
Sing: Goddamm.
Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,
An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver,
Damm you;
Sing: Goddamm.
Goddamm, Goddamm,
’tis why I am, Goddamm,
So ‘gainst the winter’s balm.
Sing goddamm, damm, sing goddamm,
Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMM

Winter is NOT supposed to be icumen in or astayin in; it’s supposed to be agoin out!

C’mon spring and summer, let’s get to those hot, hazy, humid days so I can complain about that.