Wednesday, December 16, 2009


Poem of the Month

Here, in his own words, is Al Gore's Vogon Poetry about the effects of climate change. He is rapidly becoming an object of pitiable derision, deservedly so.

One thin September soon
A floating continent disappears
In midnight sun

Vapors rise as
Fever settles on an acid sea
Neptune's bones dissolve

Snow glides from the mountain
Ice fathers floods for a season
A hard rain comes quickly

Then dirt is parched
Kindling is placed in the forest
For the lightning's celebration

Unknown creatures
Take their leave, unmourned
Horsemen ready their stirrups

Passion seeks heroes and friends
The bell of the city
On the hill is rung

The shepherd cries
The hour of choosing has arrived
Here are your tools

UPDATE: According to the 30 years of satellite data as shown on the website at the University of Illinois (at Urbana/Champagne) called The Cryosphere Today, the lowest area the floating continent of Arctic sea ice has covered at the end of Summer is just under 3 million square kilometers and just this year it was 3.45 million, bigger than the country of India. There's going to have to be a truckload of more warming "soon" to fulfill poet Gore's dire predictions. I'm yawning as I wait for this fool's hour upon the stage to be over.


That first stanza alone is so horrible there are no words suitable to describe it. The letters "P" and "U" come close. Vogon poetry indeed!

We need to compile a list of politician killer poets. Methinks it would a short list. Chairman Mao.

"Killer" being good? Cause literally I'm with you. Mao murdered more people than any one else. Ever.
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