Thursday, December 20, 2012

The Night Before Barackmas

The Night Before Barackmas
'Twas the night before Barackmas, when all thro' the house
Every patriot was stirring, while the average voter satquieter than a mouse.
The promises were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that candidate Obama soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of piling debt danc'd in their heads,
And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a four years term nap —
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I grabbed my shotgun to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-day to the manager scene below;
When, what to my terrified eyes should appear,
But an empty chair, and a nation in fear,
With a little middle age driver, so obedient and nice,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Rice.
More rapid than donkeys her coursers they came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and call'd them by name:
"Now! Clinton, now! Sebelius, now! Pelosi and Fluke,
"On! Kagan, on! Biden, on! Holder and finally Americamight have been duped!;
"To the top of the porch! To the top of the embassywall!
"Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As dry leaves before the fiscal cliff fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So down to the heartland the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of joblessness — and St. Rice too:
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The clenching and gnawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my gun, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Rice came with a bound:
She was dress'd all in secrets, from her head to her foot,
And her clothes were all tarnish'd with ashes and soot;
A bundle of excuses was flung on her back,
And she looked like a puppet just opening her pack:
Her eyes — how they twinkled! Her dimples: how scary,
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry;
Her droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
She was nervous and scared, a right depressing old elf,
And she screamed when she heard it in spite of herself;
She spoke not a word, but continued with her work,
And stole all the stockings; then quickly turned with ajerk,
And laying her finger aside of her nose
And giving a nod, up the chimney she rose.
She sprung to her sleigh, to leave in a flash
And away they all flew, leaving quite a large splash,
But I gave an exclaim, ere he drove out of sight —
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Dear Republicans


Dear Republicans,

With the 2012 election behind us, we look to 2014 to turn things around. The blaming and pointing of fingers began even before polls closed on election night. Many in the party suggest a move toward the center is the only way to draw in young people. That in my opinion, is the worst decision the GOP could make.

As an 18 year old conservative Republican a move toward the center would be the final nail in the coffin for the Republican Party. Young people are finally waking up to the fact that our nation is in trouble and many of our freedoms our quickly eroding before our eyes.

It’s not the policies that we stand for that turn the young people away but instead the attempts of pandering is why many look to the left. 

If Republicans turn away from our stances on traditional marriage, our promises NOT to raise taxes, and even the sanctity of life  what is the difference between us and the left? Nothing, beside the left also promising “free” stuff.

We must not abandon the values this nation was founded upon and the principles that led us through our darkest times. We need a restoration in this nation and party; not a moderation.

I urge you, Republicans, as a concerned young American, to stay true to your beliefs, to always fight for life, marriage, fiscal responsibly and most importantly our Constitution, And always remember why you serve…

As Henry Clay once said, “The Constitution of the United States was made not merely for the generation that then existed, but for posterity—unlimited, undefined, endless, perpetual posterity.” 


A concerned American,

Dalton Glasscock