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Late Night Original Poetry Corner: The Wingnuttiad, Canto I

MisruleAs promised some time ago, the start of The Wingnuttiad, a tour of Greater Wingnuttia in heroic couplets, with abject apologies to Alexander Pope.

The Argument:

The Wingnuts gather to salute their King. A brief description of their mad frolics. It is all quite silly.

Right Blog Wingnuts come in many flavors:
There are war-fiends, dopes, and homo-haters;
Photoshop fanatics, all full of phlegm,
Doggéd denouncers of the MSM!
Because they can bravely use the Google,
As they chew Cheetos and Toaster-Strudel –
“Fact-Checking” CBS with Wikipedia –
They squawk that they’re the Brand New Media:
“We’re all Fierce Foes of Islamofascism!”
The Wingnuts wail as they shake & spasm,
Their keyboards caked with weeks-old jism
(This is called “Cit’zen Journamalism.”)
“Check the kerning! link, link! and blather!
Years ago we got that bastard Rather!
If we cross-link enough, and fight fight fight,
In seven years we may once more be right!”
Because everyone knows the media’s biased,
Which alone explains the current crisis.
“The Good Lord knows it just can’t be the war!
That’s going great! No! What plagues us sore,
Is how the NY Times loves Michael Moore,
Who is fat, just like that awful Albert Gore.”

Thus intone the Wingnuts in their chorus,
For here they are assembled all before us:
They have gathered to salute their King,
The Lawprof Lord of the Loony Right-Wing.
Who could say how far a wingnut would not sink,
To hear “hehindeed” and thus score a link
From this Chucklehead Prince of Tennessee
With his ghastly fetish for robotry?
Therefore do they now parade and mix
To hail their King as his reign turns six!

First bounces in some silly Corner dude
Claiming he’s seen the SS in Whole Foods.
Then list! Flouncing forth from far Wisconsin!
A burb’ling bint! “Oh, it is just too part’san
To even dare to think that Sam Alito
Were ever worse than, say, Mansquito!
Oh, this Almaden so clouds my wits!
Why do liberal women dare have tits?”
And behind her trots some dude who’s makin’
A vagina sculpture out of Play-Doh and bacon.

And believe it or not it just gets worse:
There are by far even sillier stars
That adorn this cockeyed universe.

To be continued. Maybe.

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A community college professor from upstate NY. My wife & I have 347 children, all of them rotten.