Sheesh! A spew-inducing article about a spew-inducing book from a spew-inducing individual.

Spew cubed.

I actually think the author of that Vanity Fair article is serious. Beggars belief.

The comments thread there is hilarious.

OK, here's my entry:

There once was a fellow named Gore,
A sad and insufferable bore.
He turned carbon offsets
Into 8-digit assets
While insisting that you suffer more.

I threw some data in the air,
How it lands I do not care;
Global warming! I say to thee,
And carbon offsets enrich me.

I'm not up to composing a new one today. Can I submit this one from 2007, inspired by a freep editorial cartoon?

The Ascension of Saint Suzuki

Patron Saint Suzuki of the Global Warming Fuss
Harangued the carbon sinners from his diesel pulpit bus.
From his wingy, island redoubt, all across the land
He brought the Sacred Message, that carbon must be banned.

Across the prairie powr’d the bus on its own big carbon wave
“I sin myself”, the Saint declared, “that you all might be saved.
And if the message requires that I must sin yet more
You will buy my carbon credits from my Fellow Saint, Al Gore.”

But as He did address the crowd, a gentle wind did waft
Then came a hot air thermal that bore the Saint aloft
He rose above the treetops, he rose above the hill
The thermal gust continued and He may be rising still.

When His words were heard no more and His Body out of sight
A hand appeared within the clouds and then began to write:
“By this sign shall ye know the truth, in spite of His loud rants,
‘Tis the sun that warms the earth; the carbon just feeds plants.”

Not related to the post, but funny.

It appears someone was doing back-door deals shocker

http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2009/dec/08/copenhagen-climate-summit-disarray-danish-text

A travesty!
We can't account for the lack of warming,
And I'm accustomed to drinking fine wine!
How will I continue dire warnings?
It's simple, just hide the decline.

The planet is warming
the media is swarming
it's off to Copenhagen we go

Don't worry about climategate
or even the criminal scientists fate
it's warming because I TELL YOU SO.

"The shepherd cries
The hour of choosing has arrived
Here are your tools"

Shameless huckster

We already have a shepherd, known as the Good Shepherd.

Psalm 98:1-4
1 O sing to the LORD a new song, for he has done marvelous things! His right hand and his holy arm have gotten him victory.
2 The LORD has made known his victory, he has revealed his vindication in the sight of the nations.
3 He has remembered his steadfast love and faithfulness to the house of Israel. All the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God.
4 Make a joyful noise to the LORD, all the earth; break forth into joyous song and sing praises!

AlGoracle can keep his "Glow Ball Warming" hell, there is Christmas to plan and celebrate.

Gee even a cranky old comedian like George Carlin knows that:

George Carlin - Saving the Planet

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eScDfYzMEEw

"And the greatest arrogance of all, SAVING THE PLANET"

Life's journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body,
but rather to skid in sideways,
totally worn out,
shouting "HOLY sh*t ....what a ride"!!!!!

Cheers

Hans-Christian Georg Rupprecht, Commander in Chief

1st Saint Nicolaas Army
Army Group “True North"

I am a poet extraordinaire
my words contain a certain flair
I love my life
my words forebode a certain strife
I am king of truth
my words belong aside the book of ruth
I am al gore
my words shall never bore.

Paleodendroclimatology,
Where did you go?
Up on the Yamal lowlands,
The truth you do not know.

Paleodendroclimatology,
Where did you go?
Up on the Yamal lowlands,
The truth you do not know.

Tom P.

You've got the gold (so far). And iambic pentameter to boot!

The grass was green,
The oceans riz,
I wonder where the islanders is.

Tom P.

You've got the gold...so far. And iambic pentameter to boot!

The Gulfstreams cry
"Why, oh why?"
Because the FORTRAN
Exposed my lie.

Tom P.

You've got the gold...so far. And iambic pentameter to boot!

Man doth use the petro flame, but
Sun and wind are not the same!
They power honest, fair, and true;
(Though kilojoules produced are few),
Our evil fuels we must eschew

It's been foretold that all will die,
And oceans rise, because the sky
is filled by fruits of our endeavor;
From our lives we have to sever
Carbon, or doom earth forever.

Do not question!! "Yes we can!";
Carbon we will forthwith ban,
Science has outlived its span; for
Climate change was made by Mann

Oops! Sorry. Didn't understand the popup.

Harken to me I'm Al Gore
Compared to all I know more

Cap and tax for our planet's health
That it's your fault requires no proof
As to my new green wealth
Just an inconvienent truth

Al did warn us about warming
That hurricanes will be storming
He created the ‘net
And that he does regret
As it killed his misinforming

There once was fellow named Gore
Who spewed CO2 Galore
"Hair shirts for thee,
but silk shirts for me."
Quoth he as he laughed with a roar.

so much depends upon
a red wheelbarrow
glazed with rainwater
besides david suzuki

Garry, I don't think iambic pentameter means what you think it does.

Do over:

There once was fellow named Gore
Who spewed CO2 Galore
"Hair shirts for thee,
but silk shirts for me."
Quoth he over his private jet's roar.

robins111 @ 11:46, if this report is correct it could totally derail Copenhagen.

Albert Gore
The warming wh0re
Creates carbon credits
So his bank he can debit

The almost President Gore
Was seen at a hockey stick store
When the IPCC
Took a ring from a tree
And declared that the sea will rise more.

A late limerick:

Soon after a failed Kyoto
The warming looked like a no-show
But the planes will embark
And fly Gore to Denmark
Despite the climategate deathblow

I have gleaned this from the Fort Nelson News 12/02/09 written by Mike Phallo.

An Enviromental Summit
My horses worked all last winter,
On their million acts of green,
And made as good a pile of horse sh!t
As I have ever seen.
For a while I thoght I'd name it,
Mount Suzuki-Campbell-Gore,
But the horses were offended...
They wouldn't go there anymore.
I'm thinking...
There is a lesson to be learned,
As I haul that pile away.
At least this enviromental summit,
Will help grow a little hay!

X-Prez Gore
Gone, but not forgotten.

Skilled a scam,
for his heart was rotten.

Charmed a movie,
it's fare was fear.

But at it's base,
it did appear.

The proxy data and contemporary too,
was mixed with Mann-made hockey stick glue.

Though fear encircled a skeptic few,
and gulls were taken, charmed through and through.

Jones' Kool Aid spilled when the whistle blew.

There once was a man from DC
To whom lying had always come easy.
Claiming to have invented the net
And that we should all be in debt
So he can save the world from the sleazy.

Know then thyself, presume not facts to scan,
The proper study of data was done by Mann

Hahaha, these are all very good! Poetry is something I'm definitely not good at.....but neither is Al Gore, lol!

a little knowledge is a dangerous thing
drink deep or taste not the Gorian spring
shallow draughts there intoxicate the brain
while drinking hugely sobers us again

How Do I Fool Thee

By Algore Barrel Brown-nose

How do I fool thee? Let me count the ways.
I fool thee to the the breadth and height
My Jetstream can reach, when flying out of sight
Or the end of Polar bears is how mankind pays.

I fool thee to the level of everyday’s
Most desperate con, methane and CO2
I fool thee freely and raise taxes too
My hidden need is darkness, no bulb light
I fool thee freely, for I strive for right
I fool thee surely as my carbon credits raise.
I fool thee with a passion and put to use
My new black limos, and unlike Regan
Smiles, through of all my lies, and if IPCC choose,
I shall but fool thee better after Copenhagen.

I’M LATE TO THIS THREAD, BUT I’LL SEE WHAT I CAN DO
INDIANA HOMEZ TO THE RESCUE WITH THIS CARBON I SPEW
I’VE GOT HANDS IN MY POCKET COMING FROM ALL DIRECTIONS
WHAT’S THAT YOU’VE FOUND, SURELY NOT AN ERECTION
DISAPPOINTED AS YOU GLOBAL WARMING HOMOS MIGHT BE
MY A$$ SAYS EXIT ONLY, YOU WON’T BE DOING SEX TO ME
SEE THAT BULGE IN MY POCKET IS MADE OF CHROME NOT BRASS
SO YOU WON’T GET OFF, BUT I’LL STILL BUST A CAP IN YOUR ASS
NO NEED TO FEAR THOUGH, THANK GAWD FOR OBAMA
WHILE YOU’RE SAVING THE WORLD, I’M Play’nWitYoMomma!

He sees himself as good,green Gore,
(Related to Vidal)
To most he's just a bloated bore,
(Inspiration to Segal)!

The Internet he did conceive,
(It's true, he told us so)
Which few of us do here believe,
His end is near, I trow!

Okay, okay, what do you expect in 5 minutes.

K. Stricker,

Right you are! Thanks. I confused my sonnets with limericks. Now I have to figure out what anapestic trimeter and anapestic dimeter means. (I hope I'm correct here).

Cheers.

His mind was an abyss of darkness on par with those of fleas,
The room was full of lefties sat there to hear his pleas,
His home is next to a zinc mine a fact he had to hide
And the Goracle came lying —
Lying — lying—
The Goracle came lying, up to Powerpoint slide.

O'er the screens he nattered and from whence a tremendous frenzy grew,
It was all a load of rubbish but being lefties they lacked a clue;
He told them tales of Greenland which he claimed would soon be ice-free;
Yet he bought a place in Frisco -
Frisco – Frisco –
He bought a place in Frisco,
Right where the floods would be.

“Tipper!” he cried like a madman, shrieking her name to the sky,
“Now Climategate is upon us, the world has woken up to my lie!”
Mike Mann and Phil Jones in a dangerous game imagined themselves as god,
So he cancelled his trip to Denmark,
He would not go to Denmark,
The last placed he’d be would be Denmark, ‘cause man-made climate change is a fraud.

THE LOVESONG OF J. ALGORE PROOF-ROCK

Let us go then, you and I
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient waiting for socialized healthcare
Let us to, through certain gate-protected streets,
The sanctimonious retreats
Of restless nights in five-star boutique hotels
And organic restaurants with wheatgrass gels
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious statistical intent
To lead you to the obvious question
But do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our public speaking visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michael Mann’s M.O.

I posted this yesterday at "Moose and Squrriel" but to "save" the planet recycle! 3 Bubba Brown Monday, December 7, 2009, 1:35 pm at 1:35 pm
The Shepard cries
The hour of choosing is here
I’m thinkin’ it’ll be the sheep “crieing” so here goes;
Big Al came a struttin’
wearin’ nuttin’
but a button and a bow
He was wantin’ mutton
before the hope-n-hoggen show
the sheep were aware
they had seen his gimlet stare
he didn’t have a prayer
they had “been online’
while he was “hidin’ the decline”
they knew he wasen’t “nobel”
just another scammer
lookin’ for a place to jamm ‘er
what he meant
when he said the “end was near”
was suddenly very clear
what was really risin’
wasen’t the ocean
don’cha know

Al Gore crown prince of hot air did slag,
'deniers' with such flair one could gag.
His comic appeals,
set us back on our heels,
Please deflate this obnoxious gas bag.

(To the theme of "Shaft" by Mr. Isaac Hayes):

Who's the pasty public dick
that's a sex-machine to all the greenie-pricks
(Gore!)
Recycling!
Who just won the Nobel Prize
for profiting off a pack of lies?
(Gore!)
Can you Carbon Credit?
Who's the former Veep who just won't quit
although his cred is torn to bits?
(Gore!)
Right on!
They say that pr*ck Gore is one crazy mutha...
(Shut your mouth!)
But I'm talkin' bout Gore!
(then we can dig it!)
It's very weird he won an Oscar
and noone understands that but his agent!
(Al Gore!)

I'm working on my sonnet, okay?

Al Gore shepherding
data runs free
crook disappears

Early autumn snows
Gore cyclones counter-rotate
Mercury falling

Heh, Gerry I'm no expert, I just had a horrifying moment imagining how annoying Shakespeare would be if it were written in limerick...;)

"I'm no expert"

As evidenced by my ability to spell Garry correctly.

Sorry, saw Ursus' entry and had to write a haiku too, lol =)

cold prairie deep freeze
al gore comes to rescue by
taxing your furnace

I think that I shall never sing
A song lovely as a tree ring.

A ring where temperatures we seek
To lower carbon week by week

A ring that pleases friends of Gore
And fudge the numbers from days of yore.

A ring that’s used to make a stick
To fool the world with a data trick

Upon whose bark the snow did cling
‘til warming caused this drastic melting

Songs are written on a staff
But only Mann can make a graph

They will push us hard until we push back
Words will not win us this war
I long for the day when we make that attack
And smite the enemy known as Gore

His rotting corpse laying on the dirt
Flys feasting on his greasy flesh
I long for the day we give him the hurt
Only then can we start again fresh.

rzr - you win IMHO

I grow cold . . . I grow cold . . .
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled

For Dr. Suzuki , a haiku

A cold december morning
The global warmist shivers
A nip in the air.

Erik Larsen: "rzr - you win IMHO."

Damn good, but Ghost of Ed looks to me like the frontrunner. What a hoot this whole thing is.

He won an Academy Award, a Nobel Prize too
He won the Presidency in 2001
Which was stolen by the elites on the Supreme Court
In favour of the aristocracy's (former) favourite son.
He's championed the most pressing cause facing the planet,
As 97% of all climatologists agree -
But the knuckle-dragging mouth-breathing losers at SDA hate him
Because Oil company CEOS told'em to
and in high school they all got 'E's.

Hark to the cry of the polar bear
Plummetting furrily through the air
Poisoned by carbon spewed by score
From Rajendra Pachauri's Gulfstream IV
Crashing to Earth with a sickening splat
And landing as flat as a welcome mat
Ironically spattering liver and spleen
Over Algore's Mercedes limousine.

Hark to the cry of the polar bear
Expiring as self-righteous greens declare
To the zombie-like, slack-jawed, leftard throng
That fossil-fuel power's a devilish wrong
Down with the oil! The gas and coal, too!
To the nuclear plants, bid a fond adieu!
We'll be safe from a cooling world's snow and storm
With polar bear furs to keep nice and warm.

Hark to the cry of the polar bear
As the twits at the EPA outlaw air
Carbon dioxide, a poisonous gas?
Old Will had it right; "The law is an ass"
The panjandrums of climate merrily play
Merrily trading your freedoms away
Something's rotten in Denmark, the polar bear fears;
And the polar bear's know it's between Bam's ears.

Hark to the cry of the polar bear
As the Arctic ice melts, and the greens despair
They're kayaking northwards, secure in the fact
That the ice is all shifting and melting and cracked
With a boatload of sunscreen, and waterwings too
And t-shirts and shorts in their birchbark canoe
And the bears lick their chops as their lunch paddles by -
So much for the polar bear's plaintive cry.

bleet: I do believe you've invented a new form of poetry: "anemic moonbameter"

Alas Algore
Sh*t; your blanket
Out, damned (sun)spot!
Slinking into irrelevance ...

Al Gore - Climate Change alarmist...

Al Gore - Climate Change profiteer...

You'd think the latter would inspire some healthy skepticism among the press / liberals about the former, but, nope, nothing doing... they like the "solution" too much.

Climate Change is merely the latest pretext for liberals taking control over every aspect of your life.

rnj @ 332 - Agreed - lots of talent - kudos to GoE too!

(Copenhagen, Elsinore; whatever, Denmark's Denmark, it's all like the size of P.E.I.)

To Gore or not to Gore,
That is the question;
Whether 'tis Nobel-Prizelier in the mind to suffer
The lies and forgings of outrageous emails
Or to take ridiculous measures against a sea of non-existant melting icebergs
and by assertion, effectively discredit them.

Vice-president no more; yet by this fame to say I have
An Oscar; and the thousand UN Praises
That Narcissism's heir to;
'tis a consumation
Gaia-ly to be wisht
To have an Oscar;
Yet in that sleep of environmentalism
What dreams may come
When we can no longer "Hide the Decline"
Would really give us pause (if we were normal)...

Okay, I'm through abusing the bard. I'll write a dirty limerick in praise of anyone who does a few good Al Gore lines to the theme of either "Julius Caesar" or "A Midsummer Night's Dream". I will. It's surprisingly hard, though. Knock yourselves out.

My previous effort was to the theme of Shaft and got caught in the filter.

bleet - shut up.

You speak of inconvenient truth,
And I say streuth,
These bears may drown,
or even swim down
to my town
or better still to yours,
for fatter portions they may find
in your behind
than mind.

bleet the sheep.

bleet: You remind us of Gores Oscar?? WTF?

I relise that accomplishment holds a lot of weight with you lefties, but here?

What a shmuck.

Roses are red
violets are blue
most climate change poems rhyme
but this one doesn't.

Hide the decline
with a smooth spline.
Move tree rings of pine
to an ascending line.

Liberals harass
for taxes en masse,
on emissions of gas!
Gore is an...

Greed

I THINK that I shall never see
A poem ugly as Al Gore's greed.

A greed whose hungry mouth has sucked
Upon earth's naive fear to self-destruct;

A greed that plays enviornmental God all day,
And Gulfstream jets to the Copenahgen soiree;

A greed that spawns global warming fear
A carbon credit for nothing to hand the cashier;

Upon whose bosom real science was slain;
Who treats all deniers with disdain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only Gore can spin this greed.

They're sneaky and they're kooky, It's Al Gore and Suzuki
They're all together spooky,
The Carbon Family.

They belong in a museum When people come to see them It's really a bad dream
The Carbon Family.

(Neat)
(Cheat)
(Deceit) So put a thick shawl on
A broomstick to travel on You're gonna pay a lot on
The Carbon Family

It's been a long time, since scientists got the time.
Of this profound fool.
Here you are tools...

To you, my betters - have at it:

Well, I guess it was back in ’63
When eatin’ my cookin’ got the better of me,
So I asked this little girl I was goin’ with to be my wife.
Well, she said she would, so I said “I do”.
But I’da said I wouldn’t if I’da just knew
How sayin’ “I do” was gonna screw up all of my life!
Well, the first few years weren’t all that bad –
I’ll never forget the good times we had
‘Cause I’m reminded every month when I send her the child support.
Well, it wasn’t too long till the lust all died,
And I’ll admit I wasn’t too surprised
The day I come home and found my suitcase sittin’ out on the porch.
Well, I tried to get in – she changed the locks!
Then I found this note taped on the mailbox
That said, “Goodbye, turkey! My attorney will be in touch!” Mm-hmm…
So I decided right then and there
I’s gonna do what’s right – give her her fair share.
But brother – I didn’t know her share’s gon’ be THAT much!
She got the gold mine! She got the gold mine!
I got the shaft. I got the shaft.
They split it right down the middle,
And then they give her the better half.
Well, it all sounds sorta funny,
But it hurts too much to laugh.
She got the gold mine - I got the sha-a-aft.

Now, listen – you ain’t heard nothin’ yet:
Why, they give her the color television set,
Then they give her the house, the kids, and both of the cars! See?
Well, then they start talkin’ ‘bout child support,
Alimony, and the cost of the court –
Didn’t take me long to figure out how far in the toilet I was!
I’m tellin’ ya, they have made a mistake
‘Cause it adds up to more than this cowboy makes!
Besides; everything I ever had worth takin’, they’ve already took!
While she’s livin’ like a queen on alimony,
I’m workin’ two shifts eatin’ baloney,
Askin’ myself, “Why didn’t you just learn how to cook?!?!”
They give her the gold mine! She got the gold mine!
They give me the shaft. I got the shaft.
They said they’re splittin’ it all down the middle,
But she got the better half.
Well, it all sounds mighty funny,
But it hurts too much to laugh.
She got the gold mine - I got the sha-a-aft.

Well, she got the gold mine! She got the gold mine!
I got the shaft. I got the shaft.
They split it all down the middle,
And then they give her the better half.
Well, I guess it all sounds funny, Hoo, hoo, hoo, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
But it hurts too much to laugh.
She got the gold mine - I got the sha-a-aft.
(They ain’t kiddin’ me – I got the shaft.)

Well, I don’t have to worry ‘bout totin’ a billfold n’more.
Hahahahaha…
I let my wife tote it; I’mon’ be carryin’ food stamps –
You get it, judge? I’mon’ be… Just… Hahahaha…
Ah, it’s not funny, huh? Huh? Huh?
Contempt of court? Whaddaya mean?
Listen, judge: I’s just kiddin’!

Doggerel

As Gore’s a name that rhymes with whore
So sells the man his name for ore.

His lies are heard as gospel lore
His carbon footprint's forty-four.

The inconvenient truth is more
That ego drives his hollow core.

He weeps his loss in ’00 and ‘04
The dirge he sings it makes me roar.

He screams about the rising shoal
Forbids the world from burning coal

But all the while he counts his roll
And limousined he sells his soul.

Posted by: b_C at December 8, 2009 7:55 PM

Is that you, new?

Al Gore swinging in the trees, Al Gore blowing with the breeze.

Sorry, this is a bit of a long one. With apologies to E.A. Poe

The Climate Change Conference Delegate

Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered,
`tapping at my chamber door -Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Global Warming -
For the rare and radiant fraud which the geenies named Global Warming-
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart,
I stood repeating`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' -
here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken were the whispered words, `Global Warming !
'This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the words, `Global Warming!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he;
not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Suzuki just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven,
`Praise Al Gore.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as
`Wise Al Gore.'
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
Those few words, as if his soul in those few words he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said,
`Not Al Gore.'
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore of "’net inventor Saint Al Gore."
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking
`All Hail Al Gore!.'
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
Warmists insist we must all heed Al Gore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Michael Mann whose hockey stick dragged upon the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these co-conspiators he has sent thee
Respite - respite and some Kool-Aid from thy memories of Global Warming!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind Kool-Aid, and forget this lost Global Warming!'
Quoth the raven,
`Gore’s no bore!.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there Kyoto II in Denmark? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven,
`Elect Al Gore!'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Copenhagen,
It shall clasp a sainted ideal whom the warmists named Global Warming -
Clasp a rare and radiant sham there, which the greenies named Global Warming?'
Quoth the raven,
`Buy indulgences from Al Gore!.'
`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -
quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven,
`You must lie for Al Gore.'
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Suzuki just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floorShall be lifted –
only by Al Gore!

Global warming now slush and snow
penniless World cries out
"Don't Gore me, bro!"

The story is old, my house is cold!
Al's pronouncements are both scary and bold!
I am the enemy I must be vanquished,
tax me more til my savings are vanished!

I have not two pennies too rub together,
alas Al wanted them to change the weather
So here I sit and wait for summer
No lucre for heat, now that's a bummer

So far I would say Ghost of Ed or DN @3:58.

Al Gore, who aren't in Copenhagen,
hollow be thy fame.

Thy kingdom's done, thy will kaput,
in Perth as it is Texas.

We'll give you no pay, nor even stale bread.

But repent and we'll forgive your trespasses, as we forgive others who trespass against us.

You led us into temptation, but East
Anglia has delivered us from evil.

For thine is the boredom, the bag of
wind power, and the Gory, for ever and ever.

You sin.

(Everyone knows Texas is a synonym for heaven.)

How shall I remember thee, Al of the Gore?
With rosemary and perhaps Tippy too,
in a threesome so much I can do.

But, can I bring upon the apocolypse?
With crashing tides and unwlecome goo,
because you came too soon, what can I do?

A group of scientists tried,
to say they had nothing to hide.
With proxies they lied,
of c. dioxide,
and records of temps were denied.

Lear jets and limos,
emails and memos,
the decline was repealed,
the fraud is revealed.

a tree ring circus
free prostitutes for gore
O tiger woody

Whoops, posted in wrong thread earlier, eep!

'Twas the weeks before Sweden, Fine - Denmark, I know,
I lay here asleep, my yard full of snow,
The furnace all burning, the heat 'round my bed,
Dreams of bears drowning just danced in my head.

The children were snoring, their legs all askance,
wearing pajamas emblazoned with Spongebob Squarepants.
When out on the lawn, there arose such a noise,
which comes from a moonbat who's lost all his poise.

I peeked out the window, and shuddered with fear,
Who else would be out there but AlGoracle Sneer.
His Prius all smoked, it clunked and it shook,
For alas! His batteries were completely all cooked.

His hair was slicked back, with Grecian care,
a fixed grin on his face, with a horrible stare.
His suit all a-wrinkled, his shoes all worn down,
A VP's dour face all lit with a frown.

Then - He spat and he roared, in maniacal glee,
A hockey stick graph soon nailed to a tree.
His disciples he called, an inferno of fire,
they crawled from the depths, all full of ire.

"You cretins! You morons!", Algoracle yelled,
"The world now knows us as liars beheld!
Your emails, your code, I feel I must cuss,
As I toss you - no, pitch you, all under a bus!"

Mann and Jones cried, fingers all out disjoint,
"It's all from him!", "No, it's FOIA's fault!"
Algoracle glowed, he sparked and he lit,
A tree nearby soon smouldered and split.

He grabbed both those imps, and crammed them away,
To the revived Prius, who'd seen better days.
Grinned evilly to me, and lifted some wine,
And bid me adieu with a yelled "Hide the Decline!".

Texan:
That prayer just killed me. It killed me. I'm crying.

Lamented a man named Al Gore
Once promoter of hockey stick lore
"At Copenhagen I've muffed it
'Cause climategate's stuffed it
Where the sun doesn't shine any more."

An homage to Douglas Adams Vogon Poetry.

Far flung the pure snow is smashed by the sun
While atoms of Carbon and oxygen mixed
reflect the rays back on the earth

Hey its spring. Lets all get naked.

Blowin' In The Wind

How many economies must AGW claim,
Before we call their hand?
Yes, 'n' how many seas must fail to rise
Before we can mine the oil sands?
Yes, 'n' how many times must Al's Jestream fly
Before it's forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

How many years can AGW exist
Before the next green fad comes to be?
Yes, 'n' how many years can Al Gore get rich
Before we can drive our SUV?
Yes, 'n' how many times can the CRU twist the truth
Pretending it's warm, can't they see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sun?
Yes, 'n' how many frauds must we all pay for
Before the scam comes undone?
Yes, 'n' how many polar bear must fall from the sky
That too many people have lied?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

DN @3:58

You had me at "plummetting furrily".

There was a senator from Tennessee,,
Who said he could save the planet for a fee,
"We create too much carbon" was his refrain,
From his lofty perch aboard his private plane,
Jetting to Europe to prolong the crime spree.

One fat December noon
AL Gore conveniently disappears
Not too late not too soon

The lies rise high
Fools gather for the coming years
Treasures say goodbye

Snow sits nicely on the peaks
Ice remains in place for no reason
Its been that way for weeks

Then parched are the brains
As lies spew forth this season
With the data comes the chains

Known creatures stir the crowd
Take their money, unashamed
Moving rapidly with the data cloud

Liars seek scapegoats and excuses
Hell breaks loose for those blamed
On the Hill their scheme loses

The losers cry
The hour of truth is proclaimed
There be the fools

All right, I didn't write this one, but the guys who did knew they were writing fantasy:

A law was made a distant moon ago here July and August cannot be too hot And there's a legal limit to the snow here In Camelot

The winter is forbidden 'till December
And exits March the second on the dot
By order summer lingers through September
In Camelot

Camelot, Camelot
I know it sounds a bit bizarre
But in Camelot, Camelot
That's how conditions are

The rain may never fall 'till after sundown
By eight the morning fog must disappear
In short, there's simply not a more congenial spot
For happily-ever-aftering
Than here in Camelot

Camelot, Camelot
I know it gives a person pause
But in Camelot, Camelot
Those are the legal laws

The snow may never slush upon the hillside
By nine PM the moonlight must appear
In short, there's simply not a more congenial spot
For happily-ever-aftering, Than here in Camelot.

Posted by: b_C at December 8, 2009 7:55 PM

Is that you, new?
Posted by: Kate at December 8, 2009 8:21 PM

Kate, I love crypticism as much as the next guy, but, "Huh?"

Perhaps a "Clue #2?"

b_C,

I'll see if I can help you out here. Kate is a busy woman.

Does anyone want to describe "new" to b_C? Black Mamba: would you maybe give it a shot?

(;>)

26 years into a life sentence.

Does that answer it?

b_C,

No, nothing like that, as far as I'm aware of. "new" is somewhat of an unknown commenter. I could search out an post and have you read it but let's see if BM responds to the challenge. I asked the same question, some time ago, and BM responded in kind. It's a "right back atcha" kind of thing.

I had read your comment and quickly thought it was a possability but dismissed it. When Kate asked the question, I reread your comment and felt, if it was "new", that extensive ESL training would have had to have occured. No disrespect towards you.

Cheers.

Should have entered the song title only. "Newly" rather than "new" in that context would have clicked.
Vaguely recall poster "new"; tend to enter narcolepsy at line 2.
Thanks for clarifying.

b_C,

Some would feel it began @ line 1. "new" became "old", at times, and may have had one other monicker but the 'style' stood/stands out.

Cheers.

"26 years into a life sentence.

Does that answer it?
Posted by: b_C "

Is b_c Colin Thatcher?

The Copenhagen March: Two steps sideways, one step back

The Copenhagen March (to the tune of “North Atlantic Squadron”)

In Copenhagen’s cobbled streets,
The shysters and the shamans meet
To practice lies and more deceit
In the name of Global Warming

Chorus

Away, away with fife and drum
For here we come
With frozen bums,
We’ll smoke some dope and pray to the Sun
In the name of Global Warming

The winds rise up and snow comes down.
But not in Copenhagen Town,
Where Bambi fries and babies drown
Because of Global Warming

Chorus

Suzuki, Gore and Soros went,
Hoping for new providence.
Obama’s praise was heaven-sent,
“You must stop Global Warming.”

Chorus

With caviar and limousines,
Jet engines burning kerosene,
All necessary so it seems
To stop this Global Warming

Chorus

In Anglia a web was spun
The tangled strands have come undone
And trapped the bugs who’ve had their fun
And lied for Global Warming

Chorus

When all is said and nothing done
The earth still turns below the sun
And melting goes and freezing comes
We’ll wish for Global Warming.

dwo -

If she continues not to question AGW, she's going to be my soon-to-be-ex. As of this moment, she's still spewing forth untold volumes of that poisonous CO2!

Apologies to Poe...

Once upon the Eve of COP Fifteen, while stolen emails I did glean,
Over many a exiled research paper I did pour,
As I learned, anger snapping, suddenly came a slapping,
As of some flesh flapping, as if jowls wagging outside my chamber door.
Tis a friend, I thought, pulling a prank on me outside my door,
Only this, and nothing more.
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying hope depressed me more and more.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - because I had sought to borrow
From my research a relief of sorrow - sorrow for the lost science lore -
For the rare and radiant voice of truth who to speak I did implore -
Silent here for evermore.

And the hope for salvation in uncertain reading of each email phrase
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic hopes never felt before these days;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I read again from the start,
`'Tis some joker again I hear outside my chamber door -
Some lame loser who wants in is at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently I grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Jack,' said I, `or Jerk get away from here I do implore;
But the fact is I have a Glock, and your ass I will be capping,
And again came some slapping, jowls flapping at my chamber door,
Dude I can hear you smacking' - here I opened wide the door; -
There stood none but Albert Gore.

So I shot him.
Then two times more, just outside my chamber door.

I do not advocate the killing of Mr Gore and this poem is for entertainment purposes only. I much prefer he goes to jail. Just saying.

Who knew that there was this many frustrated poets on SDA (O:}

Thanks for the laugh people!! Awesome talent!
"Plummeting furrily" is going to stick in my head...might have to watch that WWF vid and read the poem out loud.

These are keepers!
Kate...do you know a publisher?

Goodbye Gore

Great green lies are Gore’s goldmine
His fiction makes him rich
But the CRU
Has put the screws
to the lying son of a b*tch.

From solar flares to polar bears,
He‘s lied about them all.
Shove his hockey stick
up the ar*e of this pr*ck.
For his final curtain call.

Kate,

SDA might now be LDP (Large Dead Poets). I echo the accolades to the talent displayed in this thread. It's been both fun and enjoyable! It's brought a smile and a chuckle to my last 2 days.

Thanx to all!

Cheers.

Al Gore's jet
not running
on air

:-)

O shepherd my shepherd (a.k.a., You tool)

Al Gore is my shepherd
He is only aware of what he wants
He makes me lie down on park benches outside his mansion
He leads me beside the polluted water of his strip mine
He 'nudges' me into the path of Cap-N-Trade for his legacy sake
He restores my doubt in politicians
His jet emits only 'getting the message out' co2
His 'solutions summits' doth make pockets light
His movie makes children sleepless
Yea, though I walk dark in my house his is comfortable lit
Surely his neurosis for power will follow me all the days of my life
And I will see votes held to the light on Thanksgiving forever

To the tune of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer"

You know 'Bama, and Michael, Suzuki and May
Maurice and Layton, we all know they're gay
But do you recall, the most famous liar of all....

Al Gore the bold-faced liar,
Had a very big, long nose
And every time he bullshit,
You could see it grow and grow.

All of the other lefties,
Used to look at him with awe,
They thought the world was ending,
And that it was all our fault.

Then one wet November night,
CRU fell hard,
All those e-mails they had sent,
Showed the truth Al stretched and bent

Then how the world loathed him,
As we shouted out with glee,
Al Gore the bold-faced liar,
You'll go down in history!

To the tune of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer"

You know 'Bama, and Michael, Suzuki and May
Maurice and Layton, we all know they're gay
But do you recall, the most famous liar of all....

Al Gore the bold-faced liar,
Had a very big, long nose
And every time he bullshit,
You could see it grow and grow.

All of the other lefties,
Used to look at him with awe,
They thought the world was ending,
And that it was all our fault.

Then one wet November night,
CRU fell hard,
All those e-mails they had sent,
Showed the truth Al stretched and bent

Then how the world loathed him,
As we shouted out with glee,
Al Gore the bold-faced liar,
You'll go down in history!

To the tune of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer"

You know 'Bama, and Michael, Suzuki and May
Maurice and Layton, we all know they're gay
But do you recall, the most famous liar of all....

Al Gore the bold-faced liar,
Had a very big, long nose
And every time he bullshit,
You could see it grow and grow.

All of the other lefties,
Used to look at him with awe,
They thought the world was ending,
And that it was all our fault.

Then one wet November night,
CRU fell hard,
All those e-mails they had sent,
Showed the truth Al stretched and bent

Then how the world loathed him,
As we shouted out with glee,
Al Gore the bold-faced liar,
You'll go down in history!

Tiny penis, love
thwarted by shame, the coward
Bleet walks home - alone.

Here's a quick effort, bearing in mind, we are the Doggerel Party of Canada:

Now hear ye the great Al Goracle,
For now's a time that's quite historical.
For every man, woman and youth,
To heed an Inconvenient Truth.

We've been burning fossil fuels,
On which there are no free renewals.
We filled the air with CO2,
which you can't see, but still it's true.

Listen to your new worlds master.
You're heading for climate disaster.
There will be famine drought and flood,
Wind and rain and streams of blood.

The seas will rise oer seaside piers,
And coastal towns will disappear.
And all the streets y'all once walked on,
Will be inhabited by plankton.

There will be hotter, hotter days
This is what the fruit fly says
There will be killer bee attacks
Unless you pay your carbon tax

Now this we know and you'll see later,
It's written in Phil Joness data.
He reads the tree rings Briffa sees,
And extrapolates his prophecies.

But hidden from your eyes and mine,
There's tricks afoot to hide decline.
And we find in shock and awe,
A plot to circumvent the law.

So wait! can it be really true?
The planets baking me and you?
Or is it just a cunning scheme,
To realize socialisms dream?

And so we found out just in time,
The climate warmists dreadful crime.
So please don't sign that Danish treaty
But turn the heat up, there's a sweety.

Oh for world without fear,
Where no false prophets lay.
Where opinions count, but facts remain
The order of the day.

Al Gore,
Enviro-whore.

CARBON FAMILY!!!!

by far the best of...

There’s far more evidence to suggest that pot smoking causes adult onset psychosis, as demonstrated by Al Gore’s delusional poetry, than there is proof that global warming even exists.

In 1971, I first encountered the GLOBAL WARMING CULT. Terry McAuliffe was pushing the fledgling global flooding ideology out of a cleverly named unisex-clothing shop called Hang-Ups, in a converted African American Baptist Church, acquired under false pretenses and wittily christened THE ARK, on South Patrick Street, in Alexandria, Virginia. THE ARK seemed poised to eclipse New York’s already famous Fillmore East, but folded a short time later due to corrupt business practices.

Although persuasive, the global flooding argument didn't ring true. I knew that NASA, the military and government agencies did extensive climate research, and said as much. If global warming could melt the polar ice caps thus causing global flooding by 1976, the alarm would come from the aforementioned sources. Terry McAuliffe, who probably named THE ARK himself, took me aside and explained, when it came to global warming; you couldn’t trust the government to tell the truth.

As we know, 1976 came and went without global flooding. I still had that $45-dollar pair of striped slacks just like Hillary’s. I don’t know which was worse. I never regretted being booted from the cult (I was hardly ever in), and never expected to run into Terry or his people again, especially decades later in sunny California. Yet there they were on the Central Coast, singing the same old tune with some major new innovations. They had applied the global warming hysteria to higher education. Like global warming itself, education now became a massive fraud scheme designed to enrich the GLOBAL WARMING CULT. By 1995, The Brethren Of The Coast had grown exponentially. There would be much more to manmade global warming than mere water spotting: http://theseedsof9-11.com