Cars with Frost

Election Day approaches, so here are two parodies for the price of one:

The first one is by political cartoonist Rick McKee of the Augusta Chronicle. I won't reprint it all here -- you'll have to go directly to the source, but here is a taste:


The Vote Not Taken

Two pols diverged in a booth of wood
and sorry I could not vote for both
and be one voter, long I stood
and studied one, I mean but good.
"I'll help you out," he made an oath...


Good stuff with a neat punchline at the end. Check it out.

My contribution comes from the 80's band The Cars. I didn't think it was an obscure song, but C didn't recognize it when I mentioned it, and still didn't recognize it when I played it for her. But it seems tailor-made for the occasion.


Barry-O
(To the tune of Candy-O,
apologies to Ric Ocasek)

Barry-o, when you're prez
Politics: very red
Barry-o, where will you go
Spread the wealth so thin?

Union types, checking cards
Radicals you'll bring
And all to prove you're on the move
And promising

Barry-o, where will you go?
Barry-o, where will you go?

There you can't distract yourself
Opinion polls won't work
And when you're prez
And in a mess
You can't just shirk

Different ways to see it through
Which is right in the end?
Media star, a-thats who you are
Because of that, you win

Barry-o, where will you go?
Barry-o, where will you go?

Barry-o, where will you go?
(Barry-o)
Barry-o, where will you go?
(Barry-o)

It's a Travis-ty We Can Ill Af-Ford When Strapped for Cash

When times get tough, the minor premise turns to . . . parody.
The parody department resurrects a Tennessee Ernie Ford Classic, and then promptly puts it into the ground again. The result is dedicated to the common man --with a 401K-- and to the taxpayers who will, at least in the short term, foot the bill.

Sixteen Funds
by DMinor
(Apologies to Merle Travis, or perhaps to George S. Davis)


Some people say a man must own his own house
With two-odd kids and a trophy wife spouse --
House and wife and cars and yard
A paycheck a-week and a credit card.

You buy sixteen funds, what do you get?
Another man's mortgage and second-hand debt.
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go;
My IRA plan's down a really big hole.

I awoke one mornin' and the radio said,
The darn banking system had a-ended up dead.
I watched my sixteen funds of financial gold
Turn to paper junk: "Well, a-bless my soul!"

You buy sixteen funds, what do you get?
Another man's mortgage and second-hand debt.
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go;
My IRA plan's down a really big hole.

I awoke one mornin', in a financial pain --
Fightin' and trouble without any gain.
Rhetoric in the campaign by an Obama hack
Cain't make-a flat-broke banker give my money back.

You buy sixteen funds, what do you get?
Another man's mortgage and second-hand debt.
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go;
My IRA plan's down a really big hole.

All you CEOs, better step aside:
No golden parachute, if you have some pride.
Your sub-prime loans have emptied the till--
If the right wing don't a-get you
Then the left sure will!

You buy sixteen funds, what do you get?
Another man's mortgage and derivative debt.
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go;
My IRA plan's down a really big hole.

Just Carrie On

Recent political developments have been too tempting for the parody department to resist. The protracted Democratic presidential nomination battle has made me wish I were back in Poli-Sci class, debating the "what-ifs."

[Note from C: Political developments, mon oeil. The origin of the following parody is entirely musical. While D and I both agree that Carrie Underwood's hit song Before He Cheats is pretty funny (if violent) and a catchy little number, we've also found that around here it suffers from that bane of pop music, Extreme Overplay. My saturation level was hit several months ago, so when we heard the song again the other day, I informed D that it really demanded a parody.

The only thing we needed was a topic...]

Without further ado:

Before He Chooses
by DMinor and CMinor

To the tune of Before He Cheats; apologies to writers Chris Tompkins and Josh Kear, and of course, performer Carrie Underwood.

Right now, he's prob'ly speech writing with a campaign hack
who has never been to D.C.
Right now, he's prob'ly buying up some thirty-second spots
that will say, "Just believe."
Right now, he's prob'ly out researching new campaign donors,
placed a call to George Soros.
And he don't know...

That I threw my hat into the ring,
and I crossed the whole country on a shoestring-
Made my name in nineteen primaries...
I was the first lady/coprez to Tomcat Bill-
Senator with an iron will-
Maybe he'll think of me as a VP.

Right now, he's prob'ly out lining up some
guest appearances on Letterman and Leno.
Right now, he's prob'ly thinkin' 'bout his ex-church
and realizing that he got lucky.
Right now, he's prob'ly looking up that freak Ahmad'nijad
or maybe Raul Castro
And he don't know...

That I threw my hat into the ring,
and I crossed the whole country on a shoestring-
Swept the polls in PA and West V...
I was the first lady/coprez to Tomcat Bill-
Senator with an iron will-
He better think of me for his VP.

It might've saved a little trouble if they'd picked me
as the party nominee --
Oh you know I could be VP!

'Cause I threw my hat into the ring-
crossed the whole country on a shoestring-
Won the Yoopers and Florida's retirees...
I was the first lady/coprez to Tomcat Bill-
Ran his machine with an iron will-
If I don't get VP, he'll be sorry.

Wright Cross

Update: For audio version, click here!


Recent events have again spurred the Parody department into action.
Barack Obama's campaign appears to have become Pastorized, and he's doubtless wondering what the BeeGees is going on. On that note, we present:

Reverend Wright
(to the tune of "Love So Right" by the BeeGees)
by DMinor and CMinor
(apologies to Maurice, Robin and Barry Gibb)


Now you know the way I spend Sunday shows my feet are clay,
And they say it shows the President I'll be:
Conscience-free.

He spewed his vitriol, between altar calls--
And I thought I'd do my crosswords in the pew.
But the critics are now asking
Why I sat through all the hate;
Now I'm hanging on.
Maybe you could tell me
How could Reverend Wright turn out to be so wrong?
(ask the pollsters)
How could Reverend Wright turn out to be so wrong?

What can I say when I need to get away
From his damning of the country I would lead?
I thought it would blow over, but he's back to break my heart.
Now I'm hanging on, on the chance they will forget about
How Reverend Wright could turn out to be so wrong
(ask the pundits)
How Reverend Wright could turn out to be so wrong
(ask the bloggers)

I could take it in my stride,
Start bluffing for a moment;
Maybe I could make another high-flown speech.
I'll hang him up to dry; he fails to dignify
My Dialogue on Race.


How could Reverend Wright turn out to be so wrong?
(ask the voters)
How could Reverend Wright turn out to be so wrong?
(ask the hardhats)
How could Reverend Wright turn out to be so wrong?
(are they bitter?)
How could Reverend Wright turn out to be so wrong?
(don't tell Hill'ry!)

[Repeat, and hopefully, fade]

Rendering Political Service

Absurdity and politics go together so well, and this political season is no exception. Even when the candidate is not the one you support, you hate to see stupidity be the thing that brings him down, especially when the issues should be enough to do him in. Therefore, in reaction to a political absurdity, the parody department has put together this politcally absurd poem based on the "Cremation of Sam McGee":

"The Selection of Dems' Nominee," by Dminor and Cminor
with apologies to Robert W. Service


There are strange things done on the bandwagon
of the folks who would be Prez.
The campaign trails have their secret tales
candidates won't confess.
The camera lights have seen queer sights,
but the one that makes me insane
Is the fuss that is made by a fools' parade
o'er the middle name "Hussein."


Now Barack O, as candidates go,
was different than most.
Just in his first term, he felt an urge burn
to be the White House host.
From Illinois on to Washington,
in a Senator's seat
Through procedure votes and dull anecdotes
he felt ambition's heat.

He was young: two score and six, and no more;
a handsome, smiling face
And a manner that would knock 'em flat
should anyone mention race.
His politics were liberal for sure,
Democratic left-wing.
All the leftist blogs and bandwidth hogs
his praises would loudly sing.

But another sought that for which he fought,
a challenge so weighty.
The White House she made, in the last decade,
her home as Bill's first lady.
It was destiny, for her, thought she,
and so she would do her worst.
"And when I am done and November's won
I will be quite a first!"

So through primary and state caucus she
battled him tooth and claw.
Super Tuesday's vote, the pundits all wrote
resulted in a draw.
Republicans had their man and were glad
(except for 'Cons like Coulter),
But in March the Dems were at loose ends
with Barack the edge holder.

A trick was needed, victory speeded.
November was in sight!
To play on a fear might just save the year
if it comes from the right.
Candidates have got their own weak spot,
a trump they don't want played.
The one who found that; pulled it from a hat
would find she had it made.

And so a big fuss was laid out for us
over his parents' taste
In giving a name of Muslim fame
to a kid with whom they were graced.
So policy flaws are ignored because
trivia rules the day.
The prize much sought may never be caught.
Pettiness steals it away.


There are strange things done on the bandwagon
of the folks who would be Prez.
The campaign trails have their secret tales
candidates won't confess.
The camera lights have seen queer sights,
but the one that gives me pain
Is the abject fright of pundits Right
of the middle name "Hussein."

Won't Be Railroaded or, In a Grand Funk

Update! The audio version of this song can be found here!

A New Year, and time for something new from the parody department.
In the last four months, we have been innundated with "offers" from terminally ill British widows, the offspring of African generals, lawyers for presumed relatives who "recently died overseas" without issue, preachers looking for novel ways to transfer mission funds and the son of a jailed, out-of-favor African politico who felt it necessary to give every sordid detail about the court proceedings related to his father's case. In other words, we've been under assault from the Nigerian Scam! We couldn't resist writing a song . . . .

Nigerian Scam (to the tune of American Band) by Dminor and Cminor
Apologies to Don Brewer and Grand Funk Railroad


I gotta a note in my email
Last night a Lagos man asked me for a bail
He had money, a whole lotta cash
He said he would share some of his surplus stash

All he wants, for that amount
A routing number for your account
He will send it when he can
Because he thinks that you are such a trustworthy man

It's a Nigerian scam
It's a Nigerian scam
Dropped into your inbox
He's crazy like a fox
It's a Nigerian scam

His father was well-known general
Saved a hundred Mil and he stashed it all
Now he's dead, family said that they cant get it back
'Cept by some route the local honchos can't track

Now this fine family, they had a plan
They'd send the dough to a trustworthy man
They said, "let's pick him, from the whole net"
They knew you were honest, you were a safe bet

It's a Nigerian scam
It's a Nigerian scam
If you're not in the know
He'll take all of your dough
It's a Nigerian scam

It's a Nigerian scam
It's a Nigerian scam
No filter known can stop
This cyber-pigeon drop
It's a Nigerian scam

It's a Nigerian scam
Oooh
It's a Nigerian scam
Oooh
It's a Nigerian scam
Oooh

An Advent Carol

The Ironic Catholic recently published a "conversion" of a secular Christmas song often heard in stores, dentists' offices, etc. into a proper Advent Carol. Not being able to resist the opportunity to do a song parody, I offer this Advent "conversion" experience:

"Happy Advent (We are Waiting)" by DMinor
to the tune of "Happy Christmas (War is Over)"
Apologies to John Lennon and Yoko Ono (but not many)


So this is Advent,
The Church Year's begun.
It's time to prepare for
The coming of God's Son.
And so during Advent
We pray and await.
The birth of the Christ Child
We anticipate.

We're getting set for Christmas,
Starting out this new year
We'll make it a good one
God is drawing near

And so for this Advent
Let's find time to pray,
In the midst of our shopping
And our busy day.
And so have an Advent
that reverently makes
us ready to greet Him
who died for our sakes.

We're getting set for Christmas,
Starting out this new year
We'll make it a good one
God is drawing near

So this is Advent,
The Church Year's begun.
It's time to prepare for
The coming of God's Son.
And so during Advent
We pray and await.
The birth of the Christ Child
We anticipate.

We're getting set for Christmas,
Starting out this new year
We'll make it a good one
God is drawing near

We are waiting
For the Christ Child
We await his birth

Bending Over Backwards

Inspired by the Ironic Catholic's post on the refined teaching regarding unbaptized babies, the Parody department came up with this ditty:

Limbo Rock
by Dminor (apologies to Jon Sheldon and Billy Strange)

Every little boy and girl
That does arrive into our world
Has a chance to be with God
All can have a decent shot
If the parents aren't so quick
or perhaps a little thick
God can take them in his hand
It is up to his command

(spoken)
We can hope it now
Limbo's over now
We hope, but not know
(sung)

Tho we fear that Adam's stain
Keep babies from heaven's plain
Innocent tho they may be
of the world's depravity
tho some can baptize 'em quick
some arrive here much too sick
and those lost inside the womb
we hope God can make some room

(instrumental break)

Where God takes a baby's soul
only He can have control
We pray to the Lord above
That He handles them with love
We used Limbo to explain
How those babies kept from pain
It's for just Him to decide
certain knowledge we're denied

(spoken)
Don't lose that faithful hope
So said our holy Pope
We hope but not know

---------------------------------

The Zenit dispatch on the subject is here.

-----------------------

A side note: I was able to visit with Rambling Speech, and she was looking well. She is very much the Balmerite, at least for now. . . .

Playing "Possum"

Inspired by our elder daughter's comment that a passage in a T.S. Eliot poem reminded her of blogs, the parody department got busy mangling a classic:

The ComBox of J. Alfred Prufrock
by Dminor (Apologies to T.S. Eliot)

Let us log in, you and I
When evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table
Let us read through certain half-thought out blogs,
The muttering retreads
of useless tracts with no-account theories,
And two-bit news reviews with pundit claims.

Sites that propose such a tedious argument
of insidious intent
to lead you to their overwhelming big point.
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
We have some other sites to visit.

In the combox, people come and go,
Criticizing Michelangelo.

The yellow dog that puts its bile into your comment box
Unpleasant smoke that blows into the blog
Kicked its gall into the thought-stream of the posting
Lingered upon the words from other brains
Let fall upon the blog the spite that falls from keyboards
Slipped by the readers, a sudden logic-leap,
And seeing that it was a small, religious blog
Cursed once without a cause, and slinked away.

And indeed, there will be time
For the yellow dog that leaves its "presents" in the comment box
Rubbing the readers the wrong way;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a post to meet the bozos that will call;
There will be time to argue and debate
And time for all the posts and trackback links
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred "anonymouses,"
And for a hundred versions and aversions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

A Sense of Direction

Whenever C post some good, serious stuff, I feel like I have to balance out the blog a little. While I am not much of a television-watcher anymore -- sports and news mostly -- my older kids have gotten hooked on a TV show that has more flashbacks than your average Haight-Asbury Summer of Love attendee at a Grateful Dead tribute band concert, and which is as addictive as the substances in which those attendees imbibed. So, with apologies to Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel, the parody department brings you:

Watching Lost (to the tune of Simon and Garfunkel's "Homeward Bound")
by Dminor

I'm sitting in my easy chair and
clicking through the channels there -- mmm
I come upon a TV show
set on an archipelago
Some castaways there killing time
Is Gilligan back on prime time?

No, it's "Lost"
I watch because
Oh, it's "Lost"
"Lost," where their faith is shaking
"Lost," where their word is breaking
"Lost," where the network's making
ratings history

Every week we watch, aghast,
the passengers relive their past -- mmm
A Smoke-monster is on a tear
Look out for crossing polar bear
The only things I've yet to see:
the "Smoking Man" and "Log Lady."

Oh, it's "Lost"
I watch because
Oh, it's "Lost"
"Lost," where their faith is shaking
"Lost," where their word is breaking
"Lost," where the network's raking
profits from ad fees.

Tonight I'll sit and watch some more
of Jack and Sawyer's private wars -- mmm
the plot moves on at breakneck pace
but Hurley still can stuff his face
John Locke and Desmond can't erase
the magnetism of the place!

Oh, it's "Lost"
Character flaws
Oh, it's "Lost"
"Lost," where their faith is shaking
"Lost," where their word is breaking
"Lost," where the viewing public
gets their fix for free

Cowbelle of the Hill

From the parody department, we have a submission regarding our new Speaker of the House, to the tune of "Don't Fear the Reaper." Apologies to Donald "Buck Dharma" Roeser and Blue Oyster Cult.

She's the Speaker
by Dminor

G O P had come
Here but now they're gone
'Frisco now has the speaker
And it will never be the same again
Democrats in power

Now it's Nancy . . . yeah she's the Speaker
Does she have a plan? . . .yeah she's the Speaker
She will give it a try . . .yeah she's the Speaker
Gavel in her hand . . . ..

Won the election
Now she'll have some fun
Harry Reid and Hillary
Have to settle in supporting roles
Harry Reid and Hillary

Gonna pass a budget that's liberal . . . .Like Harry Reid and Hillary
Raise the entry wage; hey that's liberal. . .We could buy happiness
Unemployment rises --it's liberal . . . Democrats in power

Now it's Nancy . . . yeah she's the Speaker
Does she have a plan?. . . will we be weaker?
She will give it a try . . . yeah she's the Speaker
Gavel in her hand . . . .

Campaigned on the war
Can't campaign no more
Came the start of the session
The night before, we'd partied till dawn
The floor was open and the bills appeared
The members spoke and then disappeared
The taxes rose when she appeared
Paying more every day

Here comes Nancy . . . and she had no fear
Of Republicans. . . .when she started to speak
Iraq victory we waved goodbye
The Democrats are in power
She had taken control
The Democrats are in power

Here comes Nancy . . . oh she's the Speaker

Sins of Commission?

C thought that the Pentagon officials glib condensation of strategic choices for Iraq sounded like such trivial sloganeering. In fact, with all the repetition the phrase has been getting, it might as well be a song hook. Sounds like a job for the parody department . . . .

Apologies to J.R. Cobb, R Whitely and the Tams.

Go Big, Go Long or, Go Back Home
(to the tune of the "beach" standard
Be Young, Be Foolish, Be Happy )
(DMinor)

Go Big, Go Long or, just go back home
Go Big, Go Long or, just go back home


Old Jim Baker is in town, it's Commission time
(Commission Time)
The leaks come, 'bout every day down the old grapevine
(old grapevine)

Will a different game plan for the troops deployed
make sure they are best employed?

Go Big, Go Long or, just go back home
Go Big, Go Long or, just go back home

Don't let this slip away
How long now should we stay?

The day to day press is often full of unimportant things
(Important things)
Like Brittany and her Fed-Ex or Katie's ring
(Katie's ring)

But troops over there a half a world away
They're gonna need a strategy

So Go Big, Go Long or, just go back home
Go Big, Go Long or, just go back home
(repeat and fade)

The Foley of Men

Current events in Congress have recently drawn the attention of the Minor Premise parody department . . . .

TEXT THE PAGE
Apologies to Bob Segar
(DMinor and CMinor)
On a long and lonesome hallway, Washington DC
You listen to the speeches just as dull as they can be
You think of reelection
and your recess back in F L A

But your thoughts will soon be wandering the way they always do
When you're waiting for a quorum, there's nothing much to do
And you don't feel much like voting
You just wish the session through

Here I am, on IM again
I am told, it's all the rage
On email, I'm a stud again
Who will know, text the page

So you walk into this press conference rattled by the polls
And you feel the eyes upon you and their looks are rather cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you
Tho' heads are gonna roll

You claim it was idle talk, an October surprise
But sending smut to teenage boys, was it really wise?
And now the press and Democrats, are circling you like flies
Alibis?

There I was, on IM again
Naughty text, caused all the rage
Could have just, hit the bar again
But instead, text the page

Now I'm in the spotlight, Hastert struggles just to stay
The Democrats are certain that they'll take the House away
ABC reports the rumors
That I'm drunk and that I'm gay

Later on in rehab, my career is dead
Investigators read hard drives to find out what I said
And all the pages' mommas are calling for my head
Should have fled

Here I am, out on my ear again
Wish I had, acted my age
Can't go near, another child again
Because of, that darn page
Now they know, about the page
Now they know
Here I go

Media Frenzy "Off the Mark"

Another parody for your reading and humming pleasure --
this one to the tune of the Beatles' "Drive My Car."

Apologies to John Lennon and Sir Paul McCartney


Newspapers are not selling too well
And TV news' ratings smell
We need something catchy, a story so mad
To get some readers and sell some ads

Chorus:
We can cover John Mark Karr
He's a real tabloid star
We can cover John Mark Karr
And we will make money

His confession made the story so good
and he knew things that no one could
The prosecution should all go just fine
Except for problems with place and time

Chorus:
Still we headline John Mark Karr
He's the talk of every bar
We can cover John Mark Karr
And we will make money

We couldn't wait to start right away
And then they came out with that unmatched DNA
There is no case and it's breakin' my heart
But I've got a book deal and that's a start

Chorus:
We can still use John Mark Karr
His prosecution we can tar
We can cover John Mark Karr
And we will make money

DWI = Didn't want it -- in the news

Since Mel Gibson knocked the Middle Eastern wars
off the front page, I thought it was time for a
little music . . . .


-------------------------------------

"My Own Worst Enemy" by Dminor
To the tune of "My Own Worst Enemy" (Apologies to the group "Lit")

Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk?
I didn't mean to call Jews that
I can't remember that you said you'd throw the book at me

chorus: Please tell me --- please tell me why
The Press is in the front yard
and I've got some orange clothes on
Bars are in the window --- all right
My rep's gone -- gone

verse:
It's no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy
Tho' I make films that sell, that people see religiously
But hanging out in bars is fun and
there's a young nymphet --- still yearning

chorus: Please tell me why --- my car is in the impound
I've got some orange clothes on
My picture's on the gossip --- web site
my rep's gone -- gone

[guitar solo]

Please tell me why the press is in the front yard
and I've got some orange clothes on
Bars are in the window --- all right
its no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy
Tho' I make films that sell, that people see religiously

Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk
I didnt mean to call Jews that

-----------------------------------


So I ask - doesn't everyone know someone who has
said or done things while they were drunk that they wished they hadn't?

Brittany Spears says "I do!"

Dminor