Tuesday, 4 November 2008
Election TV Watch
Obama: "Bring yourselves! Bring your son! Bring your daughter! Bring your dog! Bring your cat!"
Hell, Michael, if Bubbles wants to come along to vote BRING HIM TOO! I'm sure that there are bigger banana-heads than him...
Hell, Michael, if Bubbles wants to come along to vote BRING HIM TOO! I'm sure that there are bigger banana-heads than him...
Election updates from bemused Aussie Eyes #1
- Apparently if you go into Starbucks and say that you have voted, you get a free coffee today... I'm not half bad on the Yankee accent now, so I'll let you know how my -venti-light-soy-double-shot-caramel-java-chip-frappachino-with-whipped-cream-and-cinammon goes :)
- Some people have been lining up since 4am. 4AM!!!
Thirteen Ways of Looking at Sarah Palin
(my take on Stevens' 'Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird')
I.
Amoung fifty states,
The only unintelligent thing
was the mind of Sarah Palin.
II.
I was of three minds
like a Whitehouse
in which there are three Sarah Palins.
III.
Sarah Palin whirled in the interviewers' winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.
IV.
Obama and Biden
are one.
McCain and Palin and America
are not one.
V.
I do not know which to prefer-
The beauty of red skirt-suits,
The beauty of coiffed hair.
Sarah Palin flailing
Or just after.
VI.
Voters filled the poll booths
with barbaric haste.
The shadow of Sarah Palin
crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
traced in the shadow.
An undecipherable fear.
VII.
O Hockey mums of the midwest.
Why do you imagine Republicans?
Do you not see how Sarah Palin
tramps around the feet
of the classes around you.
VIII.
I know redneck accents
and lucid, inescapable ignorance.
But I know, too,
that Sarah Palin is involved
in what I know.
IX.
When Sarah Palin moved out of sight
it marked the cry
of one of many rejoices.
X.
At the sight of Sarah Palin
leaning over a dead moose,
even the most liberal carnivore
would cry out sharply.
XI.
She rode over Alaska
in a private jet.
Once, a fear pierced her
in that she mistook
that bulldog with lipstick
for Sarah Palin.
XII.
The room is sleeping.
Sarah Palin must be talking.
XIII.
It was November 4th all campaign.
They were loosing.
They were going to loose.
Sarah Palin sat
in the Northern evergreens.
I.
Amoung fifty states,
The only unintelligent thing
was the mind of Sarah Palin.
II.
I was of three minds
like a Whitehouse
in which there are three Sarah Palins.
III.
Sarah Palin whirled in the interviewers' winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.
IV.
Obama and Biden
are one.
McCain and Palin and America
are not one.
V.
I do not know which to prefer-
The beauty of red skirt-suits,
The beauty of coiffed hair.
Sarah Palin flailing
Or just after.
VI.
Voters filled the poll booths
with barbaric haste.
The shadow of Sarah Palin
crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
traced in the shadow.
An undecipherable fear.
VII.
O Hockey mums of the midwest.
Why do you imagine Republicans?
Do you not see how Sarah Palin
tramps around the feet
of the classes around you.
VIII.
I know redneck accents
and lucid, inescapable ignorance.
But I know, too,
that Sarah Palin is involved
in what I know.
IX.
When Sarah Palin moved out of sight
it marked the cry
of one of many rejoices.
X.
At the sight of Sarah Palin
leaning over a dead moose,
even the most liberal carnivore
would cry out sharply.
XI.
She rode over Alaska
in a private jet.
Once, a fear pierced her
in that she mistook
that bulldog with lipstick
for Sarah Palin.
XII.
The room is sleeping.
Sarah Palin must be talking.
XIII.
It was November 4th all campaign.
They were loosing.
They were going to loose.
Sarah Palin sat
in the Northern evergreens.
Happy Election Day!
The weather report this morning reads 'DRY VOTERS'.
I think that that just about summarises the crazy-town feeling here today... THE WORLD IS ABOUT TO CHANGE. AND I'M HERE TO SEE IT!!!!
Go Obama, go!
I think that that just about summarises the crazy-town feeling here today... THE WORLD IS ABOUT TO CHANGE. AND I'M HERE TO SEE IT!!!!
Go Obama, go!
Sunday, 2 November 2008
Seussical The Crucible
(note: THIS IS A PERSONA PIECE AND DOESN'T NECESSARILY REFLECT MY OWN OPINIONS!)
When I was around all my nonsense rang true
And nonsense still rules, it does through and through.
Except those who speak speaking words they don’t mean
And world leaders make mistakes like I’ve not seen.
They’re like foxes in soxes in boxes with locks;
But what shocks are the knocks when society mocks.
Homeland security is now less fertile
We need another spokesman like Yertle the Turtle.
Perhaps poor old Dubya’s snitch, not a Sneech-
Public acceptance was never in reach.
His breeches pulled high give him a major wedgie-
I think that Ms Rice was a little more edgy.
But hell and goshdarnit: JUST GO BOMB ISRAEL!
Perhaps then the Grinch who stole Hanukah won’t fail.
And while you’re at it, do the same to Sudan,
We have enough niggers to make a whole Who farm.
I may be Horton, but I don’t hear a sound
(except of redemption if blacks weren’t around).
Environment matters, as Al Gore would say.
But that was my idea!! He wrenched it away!!
I think that my Lorax’s message spoke far
‘cause now there’s less petrol emitting from our cars.
That was me, and not Al, who started all that
With simplicity speaking like Cat in the Hat.
And I hope that McCain ends up butter side down
With Republicans frowning Republican frowns.
And Democrats hooting their high honking hoots
Like Horton the Elephant, or Perez’s fruits.
And I don’t like green eggs and ham
I really don’t like them Uncle Sam.
Oh, the places we’d go if I ran the show:
The thinks I would think and the knows I would know!
We are floundering and drowning in McElligot’s pool.
We need new direction following fool after fool.
Yet what I want more than to be born anew
Is a world where there is our own Solla Sollew.
When I was around all my nonsense rang true
And nonsense still rules, it does through and through.
Except those who speak speaking words they don’t mean
And world leaders make mistakes like I’ve not seen.
They’re like foxes in soxes in boxes with locks;
But what shocks are the knocks when society mocks.
Homeland security is now less fertile
We need another spokesman like Yertle the Turtle.
Perhaps poor old Dubya’s snitch, not a Sneech-
Public acceptance was never in reach.
His breeches pulled high give him a major wedgie-
I think that Ms Rice was a little more edgy.
But hell and goshdarnit: JUST GO BOMB ISRAEL!
Perhaps then the Grinch who stole Hanukah won’t fail.
And while you’re at it, do the same to Sudan,
We have enough niggers to make a whole Who farm.
I may be Horton, but I don’t hear a sound
(except of redemption if blacks weren’t around).
Environment matters, as Al Gore would say.
But that was my idea!! He wrenched it away!!
I think that my Lorax’s message spoke far
‘cause now there’s less petrol emitting from our cars.
That was me, and not Al, who started all that
With simplicity speaking like Cat in the Hat.
And I hope that McCain ends up butter side down
With Republicans frowning Republican frowns.
And Democrats hooting their high honking hoots
Like Horton the Elephant, or Perez’s fruits.
And I don’t like green eggs and ham
I really don’t like them Uncle Sam.
Oh, the places we’d go if I ran the show:
The thinks I would think and the knows I would know!
We are floundering and drowning in McElligot’s pool.
We need new direction following fool after fool.
Yet what I want more than to be born anew
Is a world where there is our own Solla Sollew.
Monsoon
My lungs compressed against the confines of my ribcage
with each intake of thick, dusty air.
The ominous clouds lay stagnating overhead.
My hips rocked harshly against the cracked leather of my horses’ saddle
as I clenched tighter to her raggedly furrowed reigns.
She stamped the ochre earth,
sending a dull echo between the stony underpasses.
She halted and reared before I even heard the first clap of thunder.
In seconds,
it was applause.
With every fresh cry, the sky would shake out another bed sheet,
sending tiny unknown particles into my sight.
It did not take me long to abandon horse.
With a kick and a grunt I dismantled,
landing on the silky pebbles with a jarring scrape
as my feet struggled to remain firm.
The sting of salt in my eye matched that of my tongue;
Every office full of the sea-sky.
I was only vaguely aware
of the snap of the tree boughs under the whirring hiss of the wind.
I could not tell
if I could feel the shrill cold
or if I could smell it.
My body was so heavily saturated with grainy dankness
that the magenta ink was running off my trousers
and making great puddles of reddened drool at my feet.
My skin was bleeding.
I laughed.
My lungs filled with water.
I cried,
my tears and the water becoming one,
pouring into my agape mouth and leaving an unfamiliar residue on my teeth
(this one's mine)
with each intake of thick, dusty air.
The ominous clouds lay stagnating overhead.
My hips rocked harshly against the cracked leather of my horses’ saddle
as I clenched tighter to her raggedly furrowed reigns.
She stamped the ochre earth,
sending a dull echo between the stony underpasses.
She halted and reared before I even heard the first clap of thunder.
In seconds,
it was applause.
With every fresh cry, the sky would shake out another bed sheet,
sending tiny unknown particles into my sight.
It did not take me long to abandon horse.
With a kick and a grunt I dismantled,
landing on the silky pebbles with a jarring scrape
as my feet struggled to remain firm.
The sting of salt in my eye matched that of my tongue;
Every office full of the sea-sky.
I was only vaguely aware
of the snap of the tree boughs under the whirring hiss of the wind.
I could not tell
if I could feel the shrill cold
or if I could smell it.
My body was so heavily saturated with grainy dankness
that the magenta ink was running off my trousers
and making great puddles of reddened drool at my feet.
My skin was bleeding.
I laughed.
My lungs filled with water.
I cried,
my tears and the water becoming one,
pouring into my agape mouth and leaving an unfamiliar residue on my teeth
(this one's mine)
Tonight
Come around and say you love me
Hang your heart in lights above me
Is that too much to ask for?
When the night descends upon us
Take a shower, dry your hair by the furnace
I'll watch you from the corner
I've tried telephones and old typewriters
Words of love along the wires
But nothing is working tonight
Telegraphs and birds that fly
Through air so still you hear me sigh
Nothing is working tonight.
('Stars' - not me)
Hang your heart in lights above me
Is that too much to ask for?
When the night descends upon us
Take a shower, dry your hair by the furnace
I'll watch you from the corner
I've tried telephones and old typewriters
Words of love along the wires
But nothing is working tonight
Telegraphs and birds that fly
Through air so still you hear me sigh
Nothing is working tonight.
('Stars' - not me)
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