Starting from the old trad song, via Woody, “Who’s Gonna Shoe Your Pretty Little Feet” (I know, I know, women often have sturdy, tough, competent, strong feet!), we take a look at the promises/threats of the returning narciso-fasciod menace, who brings in tow his able executioners.
Who’s gonna till your land?
Who’s gonna build your house so fine
When José and Carlos are gone?
When Daniela is gone, lordy lord
Who will care for your mom?
Who’s gonna work in the restaurant
When Manuel and Camila are gone
America is occupied
We’re no longer safe in our homes
The Latin folk rule us
Says President Fool Us
They’re poisoning our chromosomes
The fastest plane I ever did ride
Held a hundred friends of mine
Deported below the Rio Grande
To preserve a white man’s land
To preserve a white man’s land, so grand
To make it great again
Where women and colored folk
know their place
All according to God’s plan
And the unions endanger free enterprise
Big labor must shrivel and fall
Cause the only way to be manly and strong
Is to make others weak and small
Men are endangered, victims of change
Women have too loud a voice
Back in your box, here, have some botox
It’s your body, it’s my choice
The women should be in the kitchen, good lord
They’ve got to stop runnin’ wild
We’ll take away their flats and their cats
And make sure each one has a child
And make sure each one has a child, make sure
The orange genius prevails
Cause affordable health care’s a
Communist cause
And Amazon owns the mail
Yes Amazon owns the mail, good god
Yes Google knows who you date
And the DOJ whisks the gays away
And coal makes America great
Yes coal makes America great, also oil
No longer with solar we’re cursed
While the glaciers melt and the cities submerge
Yes we’re putting America first
We’ve put America first, praise Trump,
We’ll be number one as we fry
When the rivers are poison
and Pittsburgh’s beachfront
And you can’t go outdoors in July
No we don’t demonstrate any more
Since our neighbors turned us in
There’s no politics,
Everything has been fixed
And elections declared a sin
In an English-only city, In a hetero only state
In a land of book bans
We are free from the trans
And no one is eating our pets
Is Trump a fascist, are Stefanik and Noem
Are Pam, Pete, Stephen and Steve
America may become great once again
The morning after they leave, Steve
The morning after they leave
Singing CIA Agent George Shrub on the Meddle East—Part 1
From 1983 to 2008, and occasionally beyond, George Shrub, the world’s only known singing CIA agent, pontificated in song, dance, and fake news on his methods of keeping our world Our World. The Problem of Palestine was a recurrent theme. Here, from the archives, he rises again to the challenge of explaining settler colonialism away.
Singing CIA Agent George Shrub on the Meddle East—Part 2
Singing CIA Agent George Shrub on the Meddle East—Part 3
But, Hamas!
No matter what atrocities you detail, the Pundits For Genocide have only the one non-response. My response to their non-response is longer, and rhymes, sort of.
While pretending I’m defending myself?
Look at that bird, oh look, I’ve got your house!
I don’t care that you’ve still got the key
I apartheid with a little help from my friends
Bombs and tanks are a little help from my friends
But Hamas, But Hamas, Hamas Hamas
But Hamas, But Hamas, Hamas Hamas
Before their attack they lived first class
But Hamas, Hamas, Hamas
Would you believe in denial of rights
Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time
What does the conqueror see through his sights
I can’t tell you but I know It’s mine
Oh I get by by evicting the folks
While the White House gives me the okey-doke
76 years of dispossession brings
110 brigades of terror squads
They were followed by rows and rows
Of ethnic cleansing virtuosos
The cream of the settler colonial band
There were 50 mounted cannon in the battery
Thundering, plundering more than e’er before
Terror gangs of every size, destruction they would improvise
Razing villages by the score
Mow, mow, mow the lawn,
Put them on a diet
No travel rights, no right to fish
A perfect petri dish
(for the development of repressive technologies to export to other countries that wish to control and immiserate their minorities, or majorities for that matter)
Palestinians are indigenous
And the media gives a hint
Don’t say genocide, don’t say Palestine
That’s not news that’s fit to print
In fact this is a US occupation—US bucks
US bombs and UN vetoes, Brooklyn settlers, what the fuck
From the river to the sea is Israel’s reality, Look ma, no Palestine.
Uprooting olive trees, replaced with pine trees
Make desert bloom — have you ever heard such sleaze
Taking of hostages, clearly a crime
Freeing 7 million of them would be one of my favorite things
Refugee camps are reservations, it’s the same old game
Yes US and Israel are conquering land thieves
And that’s why I feel so bad
CHO
Which in Spanish means Never Again.
Your Genocide, It Must Be Ending
That great old song was about due for an update.
Enraged by this slaughter
And admit you’d act fast
To save your son and daughter
And accept it that we’ve been
Denying food and water
If all life to you is worth savin’
Then you better stand up
For humanity now
This genocide, it must be ending
Come senators, Congressman
What the actual hell
For human rights
You’re not doing so well
Seems like you don’t get it
Though it’s clear as a bell
The atrocities Israel is wagin’
Are a stain on your name
And legacy, truth to tell
Your genocide, it must be ending
What kind of democracy murders a nation
What kind of human being
sponsors starvation
Come cut off the funds
from this colonization
Your old order is rapidly fadin’
Dispossession, apartheid,
ethnic cleansing must cease
And your genocide, it must be ending
Leave It Blank
Following the significant showings of “uncommitted” voters in Democratic primaries in several states, anti-genocide campaigners in New York are urging voters to leave the Presidential line blank. Here’s why.
Gaza’s people come to me
Suffering starvation
Bombs and tanks
The White House sends the weapons
The White House must atone for this
First line of your ballot
Leave it blank
Let’s be frank, Biden sank
I’m not a crank, my vote you need
There will be a ballot
Leave it blank
And when the broken hearted people
living in the world agree
Biden’s sense of justice is absentee
And though the White House funds it
There is still a chance that they will see
If they’re isolated
Leave it blank
Let’s be frank, Biden sank
I’m not a crank, my vote you need
There will be a ballot
Leave it blank
So break ranks, say no thanks
No more tanks for genocide
There will be a ballot
Leave it blank
And in our hour of slaughter
food and water aren’t allowed to them
One thing we can offer
Leave it blank
And in our hour of voting
There is still a chance to say our piece
There will be a ballot
Leave it blank
Let’s be frank, your morals sank
I’m not a crank, my vote you need
There will be a ballot
Leave it blank
So break ranks, say no thanks
No more tanks for genocide
There will be a ballot
Leave it blank
Tone It Down
Tony Blinken actually asked Qatar to tell al Jazeera to tone down their coverage of genocide in Gaza.
Tony Blinken comes to me
Counseling more silence
Tone it down
And in our hour of bombing he is calming
As he comes to me
Speaking words of conquest
Tone it down
And when the broken hearted people
living in the world agree
There must be ceasefire, let it be
And though the Congress funds it
There is still a chance that they will see
If they’re isolated, Let it be
But tone it down, turn that frown,
Upside down, Let’s break it down
How can we kill Gazans
If people see?
And when William Lloyd Garrison
Reported news of slavery
Lincoln (not A. Blinken)
Said tone it down
He pleaded “be more mellow, dude”
You’re histrionic, now we’re screwed
Here’s my words of cowardice
Tone it down
Tone it down, please sit down,
nervous breakdown’s not what we need
Slaves will get their freedom
By degrees
And when the genocide of Cheney
In Iraq was videoed
Every President said
Tone it down
Assange will rot in prison
Cause he showed what Manning stole from me
Whisper words of murder, tone it down
Tone it down, turn that frown,
Upside down, Let’s break it down
How can we kill Gazans
If people see?