There once was a writer in the Kremlin
Whose words were always dissembling.
No matter what he’d say
The writer would explain it away –
Even when Trump was Putin dwelling.
Tag Archives: political humor
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.
Filed under 2017, Ambrose Bierce, Devil's Dictionary
“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. /
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
Filed under 2017, photo by David E. Booker, poetry by author, political humor
Monday morning (writing) political joke: “Hot air”
A woman in a hot air balloon realized she was lost. She lowered her altitude and spotted a man in a boat below. She shouted to him:
“Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don’t know where I am.”
The man consulted his portable GPS and replied, “You’re in a hot air balloon, approximately 30 feet above ground elevation of 2,346 feet above sea level. You are at 31 degrees, 14.97 minutes north latitude and 100 degrees, 49.09 minutes west longitude.
She rolled her eyes and said, “You must be an Obama Democrat.
“I am,” replied the man. “How did you know?”
“Well,” answered the balloonist, “everything you told me is technically correct. But I have no idea what to do with your information, and I’m still lost. Frankly, you’ve not been much help to me.”
The man smiled and responded, “You must be a Republican.”
“I am,” replied the balloonist. “How did you know?”
“Well,” said the man, “you don’t know where you are — or where you are going. You’ve risen to where you are due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise you have no idea how to keep, and you expect me to solve your problem. You’re in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but somehow, now it’s my fault.”
Filed under 2017, Monday morning writing joke, political humor, politics
New words to live by: “Utteration”
It is time, once again, for New words to live by. This is a word or phrase not currently in use in the U.S. English lexicon, but might need to be considered. Other words, such as obsurd, crumpify, subsus, flib, congressed, and others, can be found by clicking on the tags below. Today’s New Word is a compounding of two nouns into a new word. Without further waiting, utteration (utter + iteration) and its verb form utterate are the new words for this month.
OLD WORDS
Utter, v. 1. To give audible expression to; speak or pronounce. 2. To express oneself with voice or in written / printed form, especially in words. 3. To make publicly known.
Iteration, n. 1. The act of repeating; a repetition. 2. A repetition with a minor variation.
NEW WORDS
Utteration, n. 1. To utter over and over and over again the same words or phrase or sound, especially as if saying them makes them appear to be true.
Utterate, v. The act of uttering over and over and over again the same words or phrase or sound, especially as if saying them makes them appear to be true.
Example:
A certain U.S. presidential candidate who utterates he’s going to build a wall along the Mexican border and is going to make the Mexicans pay for it, and that the wall will keep undocumented immigrants out of the United States. And because he is, a judge of Mexican decent can’t officiate at a trial that involves one of the candidate’s many failed enterprises.
[Editor’s note: yes, this example is the same as last month’s, showing that such utterations are hyprocrassy.]
Filed under 2016, New words to live by
Early morning writing joke: “Cost”
A writer, a priest, and a politician walk into a bar.
After a few drinks, the politician walks over to the priest and says, “I hate to admit it, father, but I have told some pretty big whoppers in my time.”
“I’m sure,” the priest says. “I have probably heard them all.”
The politician pauses for a moment and then says, “How could you? I’m not Catholic. I’ve never been to confession. Some of my biggest ones have been in private.”
“I’m a priest. We know these things.”
The politician takes his drink and quickly leaves.
The priest then turns to the writer. “Now, what is your problem?”
“Well, father, in my time, in order to make ends meet, I have written for politicians, even crafting some of their ‘big whoppers.’ Including some said in private.”
“So you know what I’m talking about and you came seeking forgiveness?”
“No, father. Until you scared him off, I came to get paid.”
Filed under 2016, Monday morning writing joke
The blathering idiot and Saturdays
The blathering idiot and Lydia, his campaign manager for the Pro-Accordion Party, were driving down the road from one stump speech stop to another in his quest for the highest office in the land. It was hard to keep up with the other candidates. He had crossed paths with one of them recently and happened to catch part of what he was saying. What surprised the blathering idiot even more than the other candidates way of speech delivery was the sign on the front of his lectern. Apparently the silent majority stood with this candidate. From the way the candidate was speaking, attacking everyone and everything that wasn’t American and white, he could understand why the “majority” was silent: It couldn’t get in a word edgewise.
The blathering idiot had always wanted to adopt Saturdays.
The older woman behind the counter looked up and said, “Is this a joke?”
“I’ve always wanted to adopt Saturdays. All of them, if I could. Ever since I was a kid, it was my favorite day of the week. Wake up late, eat two bowls of my favorite cereal, watch cartoons until my eyes were about to pop, then eat popcorn for lunch, and ride bikes with my friends, pedaling so hard we wanted to throw up. I want to adopt Saturdays.”
“Who don’t adopt Saturdays here,” the woman said.
“But your sign says—”
“That sign is for dogs.”
“You mean dogs can adopt Saturdays, but I can’t?” If so, it really was a dog’s life.
“No. The sign is about adopting dogs.”
“You mean if I adopt a dog, the dog can adopt Saturdays?”
“Get out. Now!”
The blathering idiot hustled out the door and back to the campaign car and climbed inside.
“Are you okay?” Lydia asked.
The blathering idiot sighed. “I wish I was eleven and it was Saturday. Saturdays when you are eleven are the best Saturdays there are.”
He wondered if the silent majority felt that way, too.
Filed under 2015, blathering idiot, political humor
The Devil’s Dictionary: “Werewolf”
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.
A young Ambrose Bierce
OLD DEFINITION
Werewolf, n. A wolf that was once, or is sometimes, a man. All werewolves are of evil disposition, having assumed a bestial form to gratify a bestial appetite, but some, transformed by sorcery, are as humane and is consistent with an acquired taste for human flesh. Some Bavarian peasants having caught a wolf one evening, tied it to a post by the tail and went to bed. The next morning nothing was there! Greatly perplexed, they consulted the local priest, who told them that their captive was undoubtedly a werewolf and had resumed its human for during the night. “The next time that you take a wolf,” the good man said, “see that you chain it by the leg, and in the morning you will find a Lutheran.”.
NEW DEFINITION
Werewolf, n. A politician that was once, or is sometimes, a man (or woman). All werewolves are of evil disposition, having assumed a bestial form to gratify a bestial appetite, but some, transformed by sorcery, are as humane (or high-functioning sociopath) and is consistent with an acquired taste for human flesh. Some neighbors having caught a wolf one evening, tied it to a post by the tail and went to bed. The next morning nothing was there! Greatly perplexed, they consulted the local priest, who told them that their captive was undoubtedly a werewolf and had resumed its human for during the night. “The next time that you take a wolf,” the good man said, “see that you chain it by the leg, and in the morning you will find a ‘Christian’ politician.”
Filed under 2015, definitions, Devil's Dictionary
The Devil’s Dictionary: “Un-American and Understanding”
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.
A young Ambrose Bierce
OLD DEFINITION
Un-American, adj. Wicked, intolerable, heathenish.
Understanding, n. A cerebral secretion that enables one having it to know a house from a horse by the roof on the house. Its nature and laws have been exhaustively expounded by Locke, who rode a house, and Kant, who lived in a horse.
His understanding was so keen
That all things which he’d felt, heard, seen,
He could interpret without fail
If he was in or out of jail.
He wrote at Inspiration’s call
Deep disquisitions on them all,
Then, pent at last in an asylum,
Performed the service to compile ’em.
So great a writer, all men swore,
They never had not read before.
—Jorrock Wormley
NEW DEFINITION
Un-American, adj. Wicked, intolerable, heathenish.
Example, the rest of the world and the Democratic Party as defined by Faux News.
Example, anything the other politician stands for, even if it’s very much like what the accuser stands for.
Example, anything that requires understanding, or as one politician recently said, “big syllable words.”
Understanding, n. See Un-American.
Filed under 2015, Devil's Dictionary
The blathering idiot and powder
The blathering idiot and Lydia were sitting in an Italian restaurant having dinner, discussing politics, or partly discussing politics.
“You know, I really don’t know much about you,” Lydia said, waving a breadstick at him.
“Even after the last campaign.”
“And I did not know you had a daughter,” the blathering idiot said. “Does she like politics?”
“People don’t like politics these days. They just endure it.”
“Like you do?”
“I like it. It’s what gets me going in the morning. What gets you going?”
“My alarm clock,” the blathering idiot said.
“You don’t say much.”
“I say enough.”
“Maybe that can work to our advantage. The Pro-Accordion Party could say it all with music.”
The blathering idiot nodded. He liked the way her face lit up when she thought she had a good idea.
The waiter brought the food and a new basket of breadsticks. He also refilled the water glasses. The blathering idiots had a slice of lemon in it; Lydia’s did not.
“You do play the accordion, don’t you?”
The blathering idiot frowned. She had forgotten since the last election for the highest office in the land. He had told her then he didn’t play the accordion or any other instrument. Since then, he had not learned how. He never expected to be considering running again. The first time was not nearly as much fun as Lydia seemed to remember it being.
“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” the blathering idiot said.
“She will not be coming with us on the campaign trail.”
“But the consultant—”
“The consultant can go to hell. She needs her education and not to be jerked around from one campaign stop to the next.”
“What is her name?”
“Bella.”
“Bella,” the blathering idiot said.
“Short for Isabella.”
“Is she short?”
“No. Where did you get that idea?”
“You said she was short for Isabella.”
“I mean Bella is short for Isabella.”
“Okay. Does she have a dad?”
Lydia glared at him. “Does she need one?”
The blathering idiot shrugged. “You tell me.”
They ate most of their meals in silence, though the blathering idiot couldn’t help slurping his spaghetti every now and then. There was something satisfying to the sound and the feel of a noodle flipping up and down just before the end enter his mouth. He didn’t even mind if a little sauce got on his face.
Lydia looked at him and couldn’t help but giggle.
“Okay, if you want to know, Bella’s father took a powder.”
The blathering idiot wiped his face with his napkin. The napkin was not large. “Which one?”
“What?”
“Which powder did he take? A blue one? Red? Was it over the counter or a prescription powder?”
“He skipped out. Left us high and dry. Ran away.”
“Oh, and he took his powder with him?”
Filed under blathering idiot
