I used to think that rabble-rousing,
As Jefferson once said, was good;
But now I’m old and feel like drowsing.
I’ve done as much as any could.
So sit here like a fuddy-duddy
At home in this my tiny study
And hope that I won’t be eschewed
Because I’ve lost my aptitude
For making trouble, disinterring-
And making such an awful fuss
That I had always thought a plus-
The wickedness life was conferring
On everybody else you see
To find at last it’s only me.
- ► 2011 (199)
- THE JINN
- THE INFLUENTIALS
- LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE !
- UNCLE SAM
- MID-LIFE CRISIS ?
- THE SOLUTION TO THE TORTURE PROBLEM
- A REPLY TO MICHAEL ROWE
- THE OATHS OF THE TENNIS COURTS
- HEALTH CARE REFORM?
- THE STRESS TEST
- DICK CHENEY'S DEFENCE
- A CONSERVATIVE'S COMPLAINTS ABOUT THE CONSTITUTION...
- BETTER LATE THAN NEVER
- ADAM BAUM
- DEATH SQUAD (FOR RANDAL TERRY)
- ▼ June (18)
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