WELCOME TO ABSURDUM

WELCOME TO ABSURDUM
(To original melody)

Welcome to Absurdum
A place they used to call America.
And if you’re coming to the USA
Best pack a bullet-proof vest.
All the crazies live here.
Loaded guns everywhere.
So you’d better steer clear.
God bless America.

Welcome to Absurdum
Now look who’s vying to be president.
An egomaniac with a coif.
A lady who wants to wear the pants.
Soon the crazies will vote.
“Open-carry” promote.
Privacy’s in the moat.
Liberty’s a game of chance.

Welcome to Absurdum
A place they used to call America.
Honest Abe’s restless grave.
Sees us fooled all the time.
Oligarchs plot and rule.
Lobbyists selling mule.
Try to live on a dime.
God bless America.

© 2016 By Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

SUGAR’S SWEET

The Miami Herald reported today, in an article by Peter Wallsten and Tom Hamburger, that as lawmakers in DC continue to feud over food aid for the poor (food stamps), common ground was easily found in support tor continuation of government protection of the sugar industry from state subsidies to foreign sugar producers.   Why? Because the sugar industry, although small, is a large contributor to political campaigns and therefore wields disproportionately great influence on both sides of the political divide.  The Fanjul family in Palm Beach, owners of brands like Domino, is especially influential. This unsurprising development is yet another sad example of how our government has been corrupted by fast-and-loose campaign financing laws.

SUGAR’S SWEET
(To tune of, “Ain’t She Sweet,” by Milton Ager and Jack Yellen (1927))

Sugar’s sweet.
Always offers up a treat.
For a congressman co-incidentally
Sugar’s sweet

Sugar’s great.
For $10,000 bucks a plate.
Leaders fawn on Fanjul confidentially
Sugar’s great.

Big Sugar gets, hard bought protection
A Super PAC, big-bucks connection

Indiscrete
Buying votes with sugar-beet
Proves corruption thrives not accidentally
Sugar’s sweet

All other bills, get not a mention
For “Domino”, they’ve rapt attention

“Tout de suite”*
Promise sugar in a tweet.
And they’ll justify, contorting mentally
Sugar’s sweet

French for “at once.”

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

IF THEY ONLY HAD A HEART, BRAIN, NERVE

This post deals with the now apparent dysfunction of our entire government:  The House is held hostage by Tea Party anti-government zealots; the Senate has gone nuclear in changing the filibuster rules thereby aggravating already worn working relationships between the two parties; and, the President’s team screws up the health care launch while on foreign policy matters, he spurns speaking softly and carrying a big stick, but, instead, speaks loudly, then lays down his stick.

IF THEY ONLY HAD A HEART, BRAIN, NERVE
(To the tune of “If I Only Had a Heart,” “If I Only Had a Brain,” & “If I Only Had Some Nerve,” by Harold Arlen and E. Y. Harburg, from 1939 iconic film “The Wizard of Oz”)

In the House they’d do real working
Not obstructing, always shirking
Where pretending is an art.
They would act on immigration
‘Stead of fingering the nation
If the House just had a heart

And the Senate would not dither
Like it flitters hither, wither
Treating voters with disdain
There would be no need to muster
Votes to stop a filibuster
If the Senate had a brain

Oh, we the people here.
Vote to have our say.
Politicians take our vote away.
It’s the lobbyists whom they obey

And in the world we’d be respected
All our civil rights protected.
With more confidence and verve.
He would do a lot less talking
‘Bout red-lines, then backwards walking.
If the President had nerve.

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserve

NOT FOR ME

Not For Me
(To tune of “But Not For Me,” by George and Ira Gershwin)

There making deals up there
But not for me
When someone steals up there
It’s not for me

The lobbyists all say
“Up on the hill to play
You’ve got to pay your way
Love that D.C.”

I was a fool to vote
And put them where
I thought they would promote
My interests there

But, it’s a shakedown plot
Who gives and who gets what
Up there, it’s not,
For me.

Lyric © by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved