Saturday, January 02, 2010

If (only) . . .

I suffer no illusion anything I write can hold a candle to Rudyard Kipling, but I do admire his skill.

If you can tell all comers what they each desire to hear
And get each one of them to cheer;
If you can defer their understanding they’ve been had,
Their seeing you clearly as a cad;
If you can lie without being seen to be a liar,
With no one knowing that your pants have caught on fire;
If you can promise things no sentient being could believe,
And contain the damage when the marks begin to seethe;
If you can crush the economy with regulations that you weal,
And pretend that reality is not real;
If you can shelter cronies and hammer down your critics,
While making bland pronouncements sans specifics;
If you can claim your predecessor was a cowboy,
Who dealt with foreign leaders as a plow boy,
But bow to leaders from Riyadh to Yokohama,
You, my son, can surely be Obama.

To reply, email texthepontificator at yahoo dot com.

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