Tag Archives: political satire

April 5, 2025 · 11:55 pm

“Shots fired”

Shots fired

.

If my vagina fired rounds,

Deep, throaty, rattling sounds,

Bringing men to their knees and to the ground.

If my vagina fired rounds.

.

At the range the other day,

Man sidled up, “Let’s play.”

He pulled out his little gun.

I fired mine and watched him run.

.

If my vagina fired rounds,

Deep, provocative, throaty sounds,

Bringing men down to the ground.

If my vagina fired rounds.

.

Cock the hammer and squeeze just right,

Feel the tension release its might.

Trigger quickens to the right touch

As do I, then I release so much.

.

Listen ammosexuals, I aspire

To all the things you desire:

To live untrammeled by regulation,

Or laws that bind me to subjugation.

.

If my vagina fired rounds,

Deep, provocative, throaty, sounds,

Bringing men to knees and ground.

Would my vagina then be profound?

.

.

#040521 #2021 #vagina #gun #ammosexuals #poem #poetry #photonotmine #shotsfired #davidebooker #political

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May 20, 2017 · 11:59 pm

The Devil’s Dictionary: “Egotist”

A young Ambrose Bierce

In our continuing quest to revisit a classic, or even a curiosity from the past and see how relevant it is, we continue with The Devil’s Dictionary by Ambrose Bierce. Originally published in newspaper installments from 1881 until 1906. You might be surprised how current many of the entries are.

For example, here is a definition for the word Egotist. The Old definitions are Bierce’s. The New definition is mine. From time to time, just as it was originally published, we will come back to The Devil’s Dictionary, for a look at it then and how it applies today. Click on Devil’s Dictionary in the tags below to bring up the other entries.

OLD DEFINITION
Egotist, n. A person of low taste, more interested in himself than in me.

Megaceph, chosen to serve the State
In the halls of legislative debate,
One day with all his credentials came
To the capitol’s door and announced his name.
The doorkeeper looked, with a comical twist
Of the face, at the eminent egotist,
And said: “Go away, for we settle here
All manner of questions, knotty and queer,
And we cannot have, when the speaker demands
To be told how every member stands,
A man who to all things under the sky
Assents by eternally voting ‘I’.”

 

NEW DEFINITION
Egotist, n. A person of low taste, more interested in himself than in me. See, Donald J. Trump

Donald, chose to run for president
Saying only he could truly represent
The interest of those who had been ignored
Or in some other way had been deplored.
He marched into office, saying hugely
It was and always about yours truly.
What some still fail to understand
Is that “yours truly” is about the man
And not a form of salutation
Meant for the greater good of the nation.
It has always been about him:
The hymn of him, of him the hymn.

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May 13, 2017 · 11:17 pm

The pot and the kettle

Letting off steam.

 

The pot and the kettle

The pot and the kettle /

made of weak metal /

are less than fundamental: /

They’re not right./

 

They put on displays /

In fundamental ways /

Undermining mainstays /

And creating only blight./

 

“My lies can’t compete /

With falsehoods you repeat./

Put down your tweet /

And tell me what to say.”/

 

But the pot said to the kettle:/

“You’ve got to keep your mettle/

Because I won’t settle/

For nothing less today./

 

“We remain on course/

In all our discourse/

There will be no divorce/

From my lies that are true.”/

 

Said the kettle to the pot:/

“You have said a lot/

Some of which has begot/

Us in a trouble or two.”/

 

“That doesn’t matter.”/

The pot said like a mad hatter./

“All the facts are but chatter/

That will go away./

 

“We must all remember/

The role of a dissembler/

Is not in any way render/

Anything that will stay./

 

“A lie we tell here/

We tell it loud and clear/

But we do not ever steer/

As if those words are right./

 

“We will lie as we must/

As on and on they discuss/

That in us they cannot trust/

And in that is our might.”/

 

“We start at the beginning/

And blame them for our sinning/

Grafting and grinning/

Together all the way./

 

“For the true believer/

Has a different receiver/

And it matters not which lever/

We jerk down today.”/

 

The pot and the kettle /

made of weak metal /

are less than fundamental: /

They’re not right./

 

They put on displays /

In fundamental ways /

Undermining mainstays /

Creating death and blight./

 

–by David E. Booker

 

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February 4, 2017 · 8:48 pm

“My Bowling Green”

owling-100dpi_6x11_4c_0615-copyIt’s hard being Bowling Green, /
To see the things I have seen, /
Bodies piled high as friends lean /
Upon the bars in my Bowling Green. /

The reckless came to town one day, /
Said we had all gone away, /
Gone away, no more to say /
In this place now unseen, called my Bowling Green. /

Jihadist from a foreign land /
Had come and massacred us so grand, /
Wiped us all out where we stand. /
O’ the tragedy was so mean deep in my Bowling Green. /

They say none of us were spared, /
That these terrorist did not care. /
We were lost to great despair /
That day in memory serpentine in my Bowling Green. /

The media did not take note. /
Little was said and less was wrote. /
We were left with but just a sad note, /
A sad note it would seem about my Bowling Green. /

Fredrick Douglass had nothing to say. /
Nor Oliver Wendell Douglas about that day /
When Green Acres were turned red with dismay /
O’ that sad, mean, vile scene in my Bowling Green. /

We cannot remember what we do not know, /
Though alternative facts tell us so, /
That lies and lives come and go. /
There is little we can now glean from my Bowling Green. /

They erected a sign to the non-event /
And many a word has long been spent /
In song and poem and prose unbent /
To say what can’t be seen of the wrongs in my Bowling Green. /

It’s hard being Bowling Green, /
To see the things I have seen, /
Bodies piled high as friends lean /
Upon the bars in my Bowling Green.

–photo and poem by David E. Booker

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July 3, 2016 · 7:03 am

The Devil’s Dictionary: Populist and Pray

A young Ambrose Bierce

A young Ambrose Bierce

In our continuing quest to revisit a classic, or even a curiosity from the past and see how relevant it is, we continue with The Devil’s Dictionary by Ambrose Bierce. Originally published in newspaper installments from 1881 until 1906. You might be surprised how current many of the entries are.

For example, here is a definition for the words Populist and Pray. The Old definition is Bierce’s. The New definition is, in many cases, an update. Sometimes little change is needed. Sometimes more. From time to time, just as it was originally published, we will come back to The Devil’s Dictionary, for a look at it then and how it applies today. Click on Devil’s Dictionary in the tags below to bring up the other entries.

OLD DEFINITION
POPULIST, n. A fossil patriot of the early agricultural period, found in the old red soapstone underlying Kansas; characterized by an uncommon spread of ear, which some naturalists contend gave him the power of flight, though Professors Morse and
Whitney, pursuing independent lines of thought, have ingeniously pointed out that had he possessed it he would have gone elsewhere. In the picturesque speech of his period, some fragments of which have come down to us, he was known as “The Matter with Kansas.”

PRAY, n. To ask that the laws of the universe be annulled in behalf of a single petitioner confessedly unworthy.

NEW DEFINITION
POPULIST, n. A fossil patriot of the post-industrial period, found in the faulty towers, broken university, and failed airline (to name a few endeavors) of ignorance plus arrogance added to money; characterized by an uncommon spread of hair, which some naturalists contend could be a species in its own right, if only they had time to closely exam it. In the picturesque speech of his period, some fragments of which have come down to us, he was known as “The Huuge Mouth from Manhattan.”

PRAY, n. 1) What the other candidates claimed they did after God told them to run for the highest office in the land, which they all failed at famously. 2) To ask that the laws of the universe be annulled in behalf of a certain party petitioning, though confessedly unworthy, that their Populist decides to either drop dead or drop out. 3) What you do when here the populist of this party speak. 4) What politicians do in lieu of doing any real work to solve a problem, such as after a mass shooting when politicians say, “Our prayers and our hearts go out to the victims of this tragedy,” begging the question: is it the tragedy of the event or the tragedy of your inaction for which you are praying?

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March 20, 2016 · 1:26 am

The Devil’s Dictionary: Presidency and President

A young Ambrose Bierce

A young Ambrose Bierce

In our continuing quest to revisit a classic, or even a curiosity from the past and see how relevant it is, we continue with The Devil’s Dictionary by Ambrose Bierce. Originally published in newspaper installments from 1881 until 1906. You might be surprised how current many of the entries are.

For example, here is a definition for the words Presidency and President. The Old definition is Bierce’s. The New definition is, in many cases, an update. Sometimes little change is needed. Sometimes more. From time to time, just as it was originally published, we will come back to The Devil’s Dictionary, for a look at it then and how it applies today. Click on Devil’s Dictionary in the tags below to bring up the other entries.

OLD DEFINITION
PRESIDENCY, n. The greased pig in the field game of American politics.

PRESIDENT, n. The leading figure in a small group of men of whom — and of whom only — it is positively known that immense numbers of their countrymen did not want any of them for President.

If that’s an honor surely ’tis a greater
To have been a simple and undamned spectator.
Behold in me a man of mark and note
Whom no elector e’er denied a vote! —
An undiscredited, unhooted gent
Who might, for all we know, be President
By acclimation. Cheer, ye varlets, cheer —
I’m passing with a wide and open ear!

—Jonathan Fomry

NEW DEFINITION
PRESIDENCY, n. The greased pig in the field game of American politics, captured all too often at the expense of money equal to the GDP (Gross Domestic Product, emphasis on Gross) of a small to medium-sized country.

PRESIDENT, n. The leading figure in a small group of men or women of whom — and of whom only — it is positively known that immense numbers of their countrymen did not want any of them for President.

As you now know, I will not go —
To leave would be insane.
I’ve run the race; this is my place
From Alaska down over to Maine.
For those who wish for less of this
I hear your sad, sad refrain.
But let me be clear, or perfectly clear:
I won, you lost, lame brain.
You’re stuck with me, from sea to sea
For four years or more sustained.
So get over it; crawl out of your pit,
Let your hopes seep down the drain.

—President Orpheus C. Kerr

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January 1, 2016 · 7:01 am

Photo finish Friday: “Pink Elephant Highball”

If you wake up on New Year's Day and see this in your yard, you may have had one too many.

If you wake up on New Year’s Day and see this in your yard, you may have had one too many.


Or maybe the GOP is trying out what they hope will be a more user-friendly mascot: a pink elephant that would like to have a highball with you. If so, maybe that’s only meant for the high-dollar donors who have given them most of their campaign war chest.

Either way, be wary, very wary if you wake up and see a pink elephant with a highball in front of your home.

Happy New Year.

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September 11, 2015 · 7:11 am

Photo finish Friday: “Speak no…”

From left, Tennessee Senate Majority leader Ron Ramsey, Governor Bill Haslam, House Speaker Beth Harwell.

From left, Tennessee Senate Majority leader Ron Ramsey, Governor Bill Haslam, House Speaker Beth Harwell.

Nashville, TN — As part of the streamlining and outsourcing of state government, Tennessee Republican Governor Bill Haslam met with the press to reveal his latest innovation to save time and money.

“From now on,” Governor Haslam said, “there will be only one mouthpiece. As we are all GOP with super-majorities in both the state senate and house, and in an effort to effectively speak with one voice, there will now only be one official mouthpiece. As governor, I will control it 60 percent of the time. State Senate Majority leader Ron Ramsey will control it 20 percent of the time and Tennessee House of Representative Speaker Beth Harwell will control it 20 percent of the time. The other 10 percent of the time it will be resting.”

When questioned about the addition adding up to 110 percent and not 100 percent, the Governor differed answering to his brother, whose company is in line to take over the numerical issues for the state, including getting more for less and pocketing the difference.

When asked about this new plan, both Senator Ramsey and Speaker Harwell were mum on the subject, as it wasn’t either of their turns to have access to the official mouthpiece.

From left, Tennessee Senate Majority leader Ron Ramsey, Governor Bill Haslam, House Speaker Beth Harwell under the proposed new system.

From left, Tennessee Senate Majority leader Ron Ramsey, Governor Bill Haslam, House Speaker Beth Harwell under the proposed new system.

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August 2, 2014 · 8:39 pm

Stacey-I-am

Tennessee state Senator Stacey Campfield

Tennessee state Senator Stacey Campfield

I am Stacey.
Stacey I am.

That Stacey-I-am!
That Stacey-I-am!
Do you not like
That Stacey-I-am?

Do you not like
My flavor of ham?

I do not like you
Stacey-I-am
I do not like
Your favor of ham.

Would you like it
Here or there?

I would not like it
Here or there.
I would not like it
Anywhere.
I do not like
Your flavor of ham.
I do not like it,
Stacey-I-am.

Would you like it
In a senate or a house?
Would you like it
With a correct spouse?

I would not like it
In a senate or a house
I would not like it
And neither does my spouse.
I do not like it
Here or there.
I do not like it anywhere.
I do not like your flavor of ham.
I do not like you, Stacey-I-am.

Would you like it
In a box?
Would you like it
On Faux News Fox?

Not in a box.
Not on Faux News Fox.
Not in a senate or a house.
Not with my spouse.
I do not like it here or there.
I do not like it anywhere.
I do not like your flavor of ham.
I do not like you, Stacey-I-am.

Would you? Could you?
In a stadium?
I could wear a mask
And create some mayhem.

I would not, could not
In a stadium.

You may like it.
You will see.
You may like it
On TV!

I would not, could not on TV.
Not in a stadium! You let me be.
I do not like it in a box.
I do not like it on Faux News Fox.
I do not like it in a senate or a house.
I do not like it with a correct spouse.
I do not like it here or there.
I do not like it anywhere.
I do not like your flavor of ham.
I do not like you, Stacey-I-am.

A plane! A plane!
Could you, would you
On a plane?
The monkey can fly while I explain.

Not on a plane! Not in a stadium!
Not in a mask! Stacey, stop the mayhem!
I would not, could not, in a box.
I could not, would not, on Faux News Fox.
I will not and neither will my spouse.
I will not like you in a senate or a house.
I will not like you here or there.
I will not like you anywhere.
I do not like you, Stacey-I-am.

Say!
In the dark?
Here in the dark!
Would you, could you, in the dark?

I would not, could not,
in the dark.
Though from the dark
Is where you hark.

Would you, could you,
on voting day?
We can starve children
And “Don’t Say Gay.”

I would not, could not, on voting day.
Not in the dark. Not in any way,
Not in a stadium, Not on TV.
I do not like you, Stacey, you see.
Not in a house. Not in a box.
Not with my spouse or Faux News Fox.
Not in a plane. Not in a mask.
I do not like you, so don’t ask.
I do not like you here or there.
I do not like you anywhere!

I do not like
Your type of ham.
I do not like you
Stacey-I-am.

So when it comes
Election day
I’ll pull the lever
And send you away.

Stacey Campfield on TV.

Stacey Campfield on TV.

–with apologies to Dr. Seuss. Parody by David E. Booker

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July 27, 2014 · 12:01 am

The blathering idiot and the Pro-Accordion Party returns

The blathering idiot opened his front door. On the other side was Lydia and … and the consultant. The consultant was in front.

“May we come in?” the consultant asked, but was inside before he finished the question.

Lydia followed him in.

“Is your child home today?” the consultant asked.

“Child?”

“Your daughter?”

“I don’t have a daughter.”

“Xenia,” Lydia said.

“She is not my daughter,” the blathering idiot said. “It would be nice if she were, but she is my ex-girlfriend’s daughter.”

Pro-Accordion Party strikes again.

Pro-Accordion Party strikes again.

The on-again, off-again relationship with Zoey was off again. Maybe for good this time. There was some thick-glasses looking guy hanging around her these days. She said he was just a friend.

“Oh … that’s most unfortunate,” the consultant said.

“I agree,” the blathering idiot said. He missed Xenia very much. Maybe even more than his ex-girlfriend.

“Can you get another?”

“Another?”

“Daughter.”

“I guess. But I might have to get another girlfriend first. That might take some time.” The blathering idiot had not had a date in … he couldn’t remember. It had been even longer since he had had any intimacy.

“We don’t have time.” The consultant’s high forehead was covered in sweat.

The blathering idiot wondered if it had started raining. He glanced up at his ceiling: no leak.

“Let me try,” Lydia said, stepping forward.

They were all still standing inside the blathering idiot’s front door.

Lydia was as blond and as pretty as the blathering idiot remembered.

“It’s like this,” Lydia said. “The Pro-Accordion Party is gearing up for another run at the highest office in the land. We realized from the last time that one of our biggest mistakes was not starting early enough. My friend here did some polling and he found that a candidate with a daughter polled better than one without a daughter. So we were hoping you would still be interested in running and that your ex-girlfriend’s daughter would be interested in accompanying you.”

“You have a daughter,” the blathering idiot said.

“Yes she does,” the consultant said. “And she could loan her to you for the campaign.”

“My daughter is not fodder for this campaign!” Lydia said.

“We all must make sacrifices,” the consultant said.

“I sacrifice enough for Pro-Accordion Party.”

“My wife told me it was either my career or my marriage … and here I am.” He threw his arms open wide.

“Not my daughter,” Lydia said again. A tear trickled down her cheek.

The consultant put his arm around her. “We’ll talk.” He looked over at the blathering idiot. “If, you’ll excuse us for now.”

The blathering idiot opened the front door and they left.

As they walked down the steps from his porch, the blathering idiot signed and hoped it meant he would see Lydia again. Maybe even for a date.

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