With apologies to Sam McGee

Found this on a political blog today. Intersting little ditty.

The Nomination of Sarah P.


(a memorial for Robert W. Service 1874-1958, with apologies to “The Cremation of Sam McGee” http://www.potw.org/archive/potw22.html)



There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By Republicans seeking votes;
The campaign trails have their secret tales --
Indeed their own “Deep Throats.”
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night in the hall in old St. Paul:
They opted for Sarah P.


John McCain, of Vietnam fame, was handed his hat by the Bushes.
His gang changed its game, became McSame -- and fought to save their tushes.
Exxon John was shuffling on, his campaign was dull as Nebraska.
For Hillary’s votes, they donned fur coats and off they flew to Alaska.

The economy tanks, while old John banks -- on beer and big cuts in taxation.
As the gas price soars, corporate whores are buying and selling the nation.
Georgia’s got oil, attractive spoil; John’s guy knocks down hefty fee.
They need oil that’s clean, know what I mean? Voilà: there she is, Sarah P!

“We’ve got her!” they cried, “big win for our side -- a babe who hunts and fishes!”
The right wing crew confirms it’s true, the gal of all their wishes.
They shivered and shook, took one more quick look, and snuck her to Arizona.
As Rove assays “It’s all ‘God, guns, and gays’! You’ve found the ideal persona!”

John’s of an age. At his advanced stage he can’t remember his houses.
The moola is Cindy’s, that pisses the Indies. Perhaps he’s forgotten his spouses!
Up in Alaska no one’ll ask ya how many houses or just how few.
Freezing weather? Palins huddle together in their snuggly exurban igloo.

John McCain fiercely dreams he’s John Wayne -- he wants to bomb Iran.
With Sarah Palin, John aint failin’ his crusade on Islamastan.
“Shia and Sunni, they’re both kind of loony,” neither one can tell them apart.
“We’ll kill ‘em all fast, with a nu-cu-lar blast -- plus elitists who think they’re so smart!”


John used to say, in that bellicose way, “First priority: getting Al Qaida.
We need a guy of experienced eye – or a beauty queen snowmobile rider.”
Sarah P. on Iraq is not deep – but she never asked to be veep.
It was McCain, war on his brain, making the choice in his sleep.

Is there a scandal? One John can’t handle? You’ve heard of troopergate.
Sarah loves sister Palin, so she’ll give her ex a flailin’. An independent state?
“Let’s break away from the old USA, and its army of occupation.
Oil drilling is fine, as long as it’s mine, to hell with your forty-eight nation!”

What now GOP, grand oil oli-GOP-oly? Signs are that you’re ailin’.
Swift boats are sunk, no thoughts are thunk, just a family soap with Palin!
Asleep at the wheel, John’s lost his feel, the party sure is sinking.
But Sarah’s young, with a crazy tongue, let’s hear it for unthinking!

Her style: naughty librarian. Talk: libertarian. But are things what they seem?
She’d ban some books, belies her looks, plays for the GOP team.
Not a librarian, not libertarian, she’s a censoring barracuda.
She knows Jesus will do as she pleases; shut up with your crap about Buddha!

God’s will, Sarah knows, is to drill; she’s privy to His plan.
At end of days the good Lord pays – or is that Taliban?
“Pray away the gay” – her church says today. Alaska’s a “refuge state.”
When Judgment comes, her raptured chums throng Nome’s pearly gate.

“Country first”: it’s well rehearsed, at the post-disaster convention.
She’ll be a heartbeat away from holding sway-- watch your hypertension.
Creation’s in for guv Palin, and choice she’ll strictly ban.
And get this Pentecostal threat: no sex ed in Alaskastan.

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By Republicans seeking votes;
The campaign trails have their secret tales --
Indeed their own “Deep Throats.”
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night in the hall in old St.Paul:
They opted for Sarah P.




Gary Shapiro