"Ein herr hat der buetel  Andere herr hat der gelt"
       — Emil Schmidt

HOME

Site Feed

Email DP!

Inspirationals

  InstaPundit
  VodkaPundit
  James Lileks
  Lileks at Newhouse
  Hewitt
  Mary Katharine Ham
  Michelle Malkin
  Steven Den Beste
  Belmont Club
  Powerline
  Tim Blair
  QandO
  Roger L. Simon
  Protein Wisdom
  Villainous Company
  Rachel Lucas
  Cut On The Bias
  Daily Pundit
  Misha I
  Mama!
  YRWE!
  Just One Minute
  Silflay Hraka
  A Small Victory
  Michael J. Totten
  Little Tiny Hog On Ice
  The American Thinker
  Balloon Juice
  Happy Fun Pundit
  One Hand Clapping
  Little Green Footballs
  Eject! Eject! Eject!
  Pejmanesque
  Merde in France
  On The Third Hand
  Dean's World
  BuzzMachine
  Rantburg
  Volokh Konspiratzia
  Andrew Sullivan
  IMAO
  OxBlog
  Geek Press
  SpinSanity
  No Watermelons
  Transterrestrial Musings

  Sgt. Stryker
  Blackfive
  Citizen Smash
  Mudville Gazette
  Strategy Page
  TacJammer

  Cox & Forkum
  Day by Day
  Scrappleface
  John Cole Cartoons

  Being American in T.O.
  Daimnation!
  Transplanted Texan

  The Mesopotamian
  Healing Iraq
  Hammorabi

  Lucianne News
  Powerline News
  The Mighty Nightie
  Winds of Change
  Opinion Journal
  Drudge Report
  Tech Central Station
  Hot Air
  Fox News
  Command-Post
  ActivistCash

  Da Man
  Graham's Limericks
  Verse from the Left
  Kos & Co

.
Powered by Blogger

  Copyright 2002-08   DoggerelPundit
  All Rights Reserved


   Friday, August 02, 2002

 

Nine Eleven onward.
This came together in the pain of the attack and the
heady days after the invasion. Though Casey At The Bat
is a great vehicle to tell this kind of story,
I have never really cared for the ending. It ain’t Gehrig or
Bob Feller, or any other o’ them fighters against the odds.

Dubya shines at that (after Ernest Lawrence Thayer)

Things looked extremely cocky for the terrorists that day;
Twin towers lay in ruins, bio-terror on the way.

For this, and dead in Lebanon, and Rangers dragged through streets;
For Olympic games at Munich, the dead all under sheets.

For shattered sailors on the Cole, the plane at Lockerbie,
Hezbollah, Hamas, and now Al Qaida romped with glee.

With Omar safe in Kandahar, bin Laden in his cave,
The fatwas issued thick and fast from mullahs on the rave.

“Kill them! kill America!” they shouted from the East,
And ‘twas likely they’d keep at it without steps to make them cease.

A pallor wreathed the features of some pundits you can name.
“We’ve said the Western march is done, and this is but the same.”

“It’s all our fault so give it up, we got what we deserved.”
Newsies and some talking heads kept cycling this pall
(‘Till Dubya, Rice, and Rumsfeld tore the cover off it all).

For three administrations now they’ve pushed us where they would.
Without a strong response from us, even though we could.

Old Bush and Willie Clinton made this policy mistake.
The former was a puddin’ and the latter was a fake.

If adults in foreign policy could get a whack at bat;
Ho! we'd put up even money now with leadership like that.

But on our stricken multitude a death-like silence reigns,
With pundits granting little chance of Dubya having brains.

There was ease though, in his manner as he rose into his place.
There was pride in Dubya’s bearing; determination on his face.

He picked the best advisors, he allied the West with East.
The cant of media pundits didn’t faze him in the least.

He called troops to attention in each plane and on each ship,
And said October seventh was the day we’d let ‘er rip.

While freezing up their assets, the bombs and missiles flew,
With a message for all terrorists; watch out, we’ll strike you too.

“Jihad!” cried the maddened mullahs but the echo came back nil,
What with Taliban too busy now, a runnin’ for the hills.

The bombing went on thirty days while North Alliance stopped,
Their chances better all the time, with every one that dropped.

From the media packed with pundits there rose a sullen roar;
“Quagmire! Quagmire!” shouted someone at the Post.
And they’d likely still be carping had not Rumsfeld made ‘em toast.

The North Alliance shortly rolled and took Mazar el Sharif,
While bringing in their wake humanitarian relief.

Kabul was quick to follow, for the Talibs wouldn’t stay.
Why Allah had abandoned them, alas they didn’t say.

Al Qaida scattered in the hills, their day was nearly done.
All--save Omar and some pundits, are quite certain freedom won.

Oh! mostly in this favored land the sun is shining bright.
Hands are helping everywhere, to tragic hearts make right.

And in Kabul the beards are gone, un-burqa’d women shout;
For Dubya and our allies have struck the bastards out.

   posted by Stephen at 12:45 AM | Plink





Last: 3/17


Last: 3/25


Fat to Fatuus
Tweets His Own
Raptor Up
Shiloh's Pride
For Mr. Martinez


Of Kos We Can
Saddam Damned. Sad.
Get a Lift
Ostiumporosis
Saddam Sad? Damn.
In The Moody
Tax The Rich!
Hogonice Beer
Leg Down
Ewywadlam
Damn! Sad Saddam
Pass The Word
On Your "S"
Halloween Satire
Oh Pam
Recipoem
Oreo Rotundo
EUoops!
Here's To Joanne!
English As It Is Writ
New Diet


KT
Leslie?
Shades of Christmas
Illuminoti
A Natural World
It's Free Press
The Emmanent Professor
Gaining?
Scott's Wae Used
Regression Analysis
Draft Copy
(a) Prayer of the Press
Epigram
Dangerous Games
Miserable Failures
Possibilities
Where Did They Go?
Negative Charge
So Much In One Place
If Only...
Growing Pains
Showin' Your Cards
Don't Give It A Thought
Advice
In A Yard


The Fallen
In Passing
Correlations
What Now?
Elements Of Chance
Dutch
Of Masses
Descent
We Are The Trolls
Now Not You
Why We Fight
Nightly Memory
Remember Me


Gunga Dan
(a) Press' Snide Story
The Pundit King
I Am The Very Model Of A Modern Media Journalist
Orrin Spare That C:/
Al Shahaf
Pere Jacques Chirac
Left It Be
Oh! What a Beautiful Warning
Hell No Barbra
Act Rationally
Rope-A-Dope
Murray's Little Slam
Listen to a STAR
Bellesiles Lament
Ditty Bares Peacenik
Back To The Boneyard


Bob's Wind
The Universal Croaker


Sing Ho!
am epigram
A small Suggestion
Motion Denied!
Larger Lesson
Trite On Brother!
Plain Cake Please
Illusion
Peroration
Old Queen Jane
Albert Gore
She knew
A Tone Poem For Peace
Feeling The Pinch
To Penn
Apeacement
Lott a Stink
Dubya Shines At That
President Bill