THE BLAME GAME

Posted under “Ridiculous”, because it is:

From Brexit, ” A Florida Catholic bishop blames Orlando Massacre on “Catholic contempt” for homosexuality”.

“Planned Parenthood Black Community is blaming “toxic masculinity” for the horrific shooting at a gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida.”

“White House blamed Republicans in Congress for “underfunding” efforts to combat violent extremism, for the Orlando terrorist attack.”

And for sheer preciousness, Glenn Beck has announced to all homosexuals that “I will comfort you in the storm.” Really? He will? With magic fairy dust? This crazy freak is trying to make himself a hero to homosexuals by doing absolutely nothing more than verbally sympathizing. Never let a good crisis go to waste, hey Glenn? Beck’s making a plea here for all homosexuals to come to his side, and he hopes they remember to bring their wallets.

Lots of people are jumping aboard the Orlando Massacre Train, you bet, with 49 dead homosexuals there’s opportunities there and money to be made. Meanwhile, the stock values of gun manufacturers in this country suddenly shot up about 7% on average. God, how the sudden rush of new gun ownership must be pissing off the Liberals.

A couple more really ugly Islamic attacks like this last one and Trump will be elected in a landslide. My fingers aren’t pointing, they’re crossed.

5 Responses to “THE BLAME GAME”

  1. Ernesto Ribeiro says:

    The thing I love the most in your writings is the poetics.

    Sublime, triunfal, like an action movie.

    “A couple more really ugly Islamic attacks like this last one and Trump will be elected in a landslide. My fingers aren’t pointing, they’re crossed.”

    The best part is always the end.

    As we Brazilians say:

    “Always closing with a Golden Key.”

  2. Ernesto Ribeiro says:

    HAPPY BIRTHDAY DONALD TRUMP!

    Cut that biggest Chocolate Cake slice for US.

  3. Black Sheep says:

    I used to write poetry, never published any, though. I did write columns for a local Mendocino newspaper called the Memo for a few years, but that was like this, free work.

    But here’s a poem I wrote, since you like poetry:

    Gazing, she sat, out the window at
    The grace of a cloud on fire yet
    Though Sun, outracing ships of gold,
    Had fled for other fires to set.

    In her tower, high minaret,
    Gilded crescent atop of it,
    On silken pillow, hand-woven rug,
    So she rests, smug and set

    While men arise, having faced East
    And rolling their prayer rugs carefully,
    To wives return, or at least
    A smoky den of silent friends and coffee.

    The din of darkness is pierced by lights,
    Wailing mullahs stilled by stars.
    Rising, stretching, eyes bright,
    The Persian cat joins the night.

  4. Ernesto Ribeiro says:

    …and you also are a poet!

    Fine. Elegant. Beautiful.

    Your art reminds a bit the style of American National Anthem.