bastardsword

The Funding Comes Rolling

I decided to write a sing-a-long for global warming conferences, so here it is.

Ever shrill, never fail, as we pass the trusty pail
And the funding comes rolling on in
In and out, hear them shout, protest slogans we all spout
And the funding comes rolling on in

Then it's hi, hi, hee, in the global warming game
Shout out your warnings loud and strong
Where'er winds blow, you can always crow
So the funding comes rolling on in
So the funding comes rolling on in

Blame the storm, blame the right, action left for climate fight
See the funding come rolling on in

Whether storm, whether clear, prepare to say the end is near
So the funding comes rolling on in

Was it high, was it low, where the hell did records go?
As the funding comes rolling on in

Will we melt, will we die, no we won't get cool tonight
And the funding comes rolling on in

In the press, day and night, where the modelers graph a fright
And the funding comes rolling on in

Our new plots instill fears, predicted heating everywhere
And the funding comes rolling on in

Virtual Dealing

I just started this one a half-hour ago. I thought "I should parody Sexual Healing." My first thought for the key rhyme was "textual reeling" but that wouldn't make much sense, so I switched to "virtual dealing" and had the subject. So here it is, Virtual Dealing

Virtual Dealing

Oh PC, now let's play solitaire

PC, I'm bored ain't doing nothing
and I need your lovin'
and, PC, I can't hold out much longer
oh it's getting stronger and stronger
And when I get that feeling I gotta have

Virtual dealing
Virtual dealing
It makes me feel so fine
It helps to relieve the mind
Virtual dealing, is good for me
Virtual dealing now is something that makes a naughty employee

Whenever these customers keep calling
And my promotional ability is leaving me
there is something I can do
Oh I can put down the telephone and call it up baby
Darling I know you'll be there to relieve me
The hand you give to me will free me
and if you don't know the things you're dealing
Well I can tell you darling, oh it's

Virtual dealing
Go up, go up, go up, go up
Let's play cards a while
Face up, face up, face up, face up
'Cause you deal it right

Hit me, my darling
Hit me, my darling
Hit me, my darling
Hit me, my darling
Hit me, my darling

Baby, I won dick this morning
Well a king was coming up instead of threes
Baby, I think I'm redealing
A new hand is thrilling
And when I get that feeling i gotta have

Virtual dealing
Virtual dealing
It makes me feel so fine, it's such a rush
It helps to release the mind, Lord it's good for us

Virtual dealing, is good for me
Virtual dealing is something thats good for me
Oh it’s good for us, oh it's so good to me
My baby Whoahohh woah

Just click to hold
Come take control
Of my discard and hand
Soon we'll be raking bucks
Honey, we'll be doin' fine
You're my medicine ease on up and let me win

Oh Darling darling, you're so great
I can't wait for you to play it safe
hit me my darling
I can't wait for you to play it safe
deal my darling
I can’t wait for you to play it safe
I can’t wait for you to deal three,
I can’t wait for two too,
Oh whenever the suit hard stops are falling,
You know I'll come crawling
Deal threes, my darling

Post It To The Pundit

I was looking over some more songs by The Eagles a little while ago, since I really like how Hotel Weather Channel worked out, and thought I'd try a few more parodies of them. They're not going to be quite as recognizable as most Beatles' tunes, but not that bad of a choice.

The first one that worked out was a spoof on "Take It To the Limit" which morphed into a song for Instapundit. The Alliance needs every trick it can muster to demoralize the forces of Instapundit, so here it is. It's just a quick one with very few alterations in it at all. In fact, it's probably only half done.

Post It To The Pundit

All alone at the end of the the evening
As my website was updating true.
I was linking to a woman who might have
Spammed me and I never knew
You know I’ve always been a linker
’spent my life surfing ’round’
And it’s so hard to change
’Can’t seem to settle down’
But the links I’ve seen lately
Keep on turning out and burning out
And turning out too tame

So put me on the highway
And show me a site
I'll post it to the Pundit one more time

You can spend all your time linking funnies
You can pad all your fluff writing lines
If it all fell to pieces tomorrow
Would you still read mine

And when you’re looking for your linkage
’Nobody seems to care’
And you can’t find some more
’Can’t find it anywhere’
When there’s nothing to be linking
Still you’re coming back’ you’re running back
You’re coming back for more

So put me on the highway
And show me a site
And post it to the Pundit one more time

Post it to the Pundit
Post it to the Pundit
Post it to the Pundit
Post it to the Pundit one more time

Payments

Sorry about the late posting. I went out for sushi and then ice cream with some friends. On the way home I heard the Dixie Chicks' remake of Fleetwood Mac's Landslide and thought "I should spoof that." So here is the first attempt.

Payments

This is for you daddy....
I took your card, and I put it down
I bought a mountain, and on terms unsound
Yes I saw my repression in the stole covered aisles
Still their prices brought me down
Oh, VISA in the sky
What is love
Is the limit on my card high enough
Can I sail thru the checkout every time
Can I handle the interest that they charge?
ooh ooh i dont know
ooh ooh ooh ooh
Well, I've been afraid of charging
'Cause the bill goes back to you
But wine makes you bolder
Children get over
I'm getting over too
S0o0o0
(Gutiar solo)
I've been afraid of charging
'Cause the bill's paid down by you
But wine makes you bolder
Children get over
I'm getting over too
I'm getting older too
Oh, take his card, put it down
Oh, If you buy a mountain on terms unsound
If you see my confession in the note I wrote down
Well the payments will bring it down down
And If you see my confession on the note I wrote down
Well maybe the payments will bring it down
well well the payments will bring it down

Mine in a Bottle

Jim Croce never wrote enough good drinking songs, so I addressed the problem by spoofing "Time in a Bottle".

If I could have mine in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like do
Is to drain the whole beer till sobriety passes from here
Just to drink them with you

If I could make beers last forever
If words could make refills come true
I'd drain every beer like a treasure and then
Again, I would drink them with you

If I had a fridge just for six packs
And beers that had yet to be brewed
The fridge would be empty except for the memory
Of how they were shotgunned by you

But there never seems to be enough room
To store beers you want to drink
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one that cleaned out my whole stockpile.

Command Line Styles

While I'm at it, I might as well spoof "American Pie" by Don McLean, which is sometimes listed as the greatest rock song of all time. The song doesn't make much sense, parts being based on a dream, so I figured the parody shouldn't make a whole lot of sense either. It also jumps around to unrelated subjects like the original. Anyway, I knew I was going to have to take on this song at some point. It took about an hour. Hope you like it.

A long long time ago
I can still remember
How a newline used to start the file
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could break most people's trance
And maybe they'd be stable for a while
But graphics systems made me shiver
　　with every release they'd deliver
Bad news on my website
I couldn't make one more hit
I can't remember if I smiled
When I read about his Windows trial
But something touched me deep inside
The day my 'puter died
So...

*Bye, bye 'nix command line styles
Post my update to my website but the website was fried
Them good ole boys were linking fiskings and tripe
Singing this'll be the patch that I try
This'll be the patch that I try

Did you like the look of Macs
And do you have faith in Google hacks
If the help file tells you so?
Now do you believe in slave and host?
Can blue screens save your kernal's code?
And can you teach me how to reach real mode?

Well, I know that you're hung up on mem
'cause I saw you plugging in the SIMMs
O'erclocked your CPU
Man, I dig those faster reboots
I was a lonely teenage codin' geek
With a link fixation and a mem'ry leak
But I knew I was out of luck
The day my 'puter died
I started singing(*)

Now, for ten years we've been on our own
And news comes fast on a broadband phone
But that's not how it used to be
When the web first ran on computer screens
With the code we borrowed from geeky teens
And a choice that came from Unix teams
Oh and while Token Ring was running proud
Ethernet stole Blue's loyal crowd
The courtroom was adjourned
No verdict was returned
And while Bill Gates read a book on Macs
The poor clerk learned to send a fax
And we saw our first DOS attacks
The day my 'puter died
We were singing(*)

Hunt and pecker with a grammar checker
The nerds got hit by the tax assessor
Dow miles high and falling fast
Tech bled from dot com crash
The market bombed on a terror clash
With the websters on the sidelines leaking cash
Now the tax cut came as sweet relief
While army caught the Baghdad chief
Left all got up to chant
Oh, but they never got the chance
'Cause the players tried to act as shills
The payoff man divulged the yield
Do you recall what was revealed
The day my 'puter died?
We started singing(*)

Oh, and there we were all in one place
A generation back in space
With no time left for Clark again
So come on Dean be angry, Dean spray hate
Screams sank him as a candidate
'Cause bile was his campaign's only trend
And as I watched him on the stage
His hands were clenched in fists of rage
No Carville born to yell
Could break that sound bites spell
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Cheney laughing with delight
The day my 'puter died
He was singing(*)

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just riled and blamed Kerry
I went down to the sacred store
Where I'd bought the 'puter years before
But the man there said the 'puter's obsolete
And in the streets the Deanites screamed
The peaceniks cried, and the Clintons dreamed
But not a word was spoken
The pundits all were chokin'
And the three men I admire most
　Hannity, Rush, and the great Karl Rove
They said the Dem's campaign is toast
The day my 'puter died
And they were singing(*)

Every Check You Skate

I've always loved The Police, yet they never seemed to write much about crime, which was kind of perplexing. Surely Sting could've written at least a few songs about, well, the police. To rectify this shortcoming I've just reworked Every Breath You Take.
*update* I changed "booking you" to "busting you"

Every check you skate
And every purse you take
If your bail you make, the next law you break
I'll be cuffing you

Every single deed
And every charge you plead
Given all this weed, by the time your freed,
You'll be eighty-two

Oh, can't you tell
You belong in jail?
How your poor butt aches
With every show'r you take

Every purse you take
Every law you break
Every deal you make, every claim you fake
I'll be busting you

Since you've gone, my our city streets are safe
I cruise at night, I don't ever see your face
I check impound, but no stolen cars are traced
I book the clowns, yet I never need the mace
I feel so bored, and I long for a hot case
I keep trying baby, baby please,

Oh, can't you tell
You belong in jail?
How your poor butt aches
With every show'r you take

Every purse you take
Every law you break
Every deal you make, every claim you fake
I'll be busting you

Every purse you take, every law you break
I'll be busting you
I'll be busting you

I Want a New Font

I've been going nuts for hours trying to reformat my blog like I want. This font, that font, a new font. I've had my sidebars all screwed up (still are), plus just about everything else that can happen when manual editing the source files. I'm going to take a break from it before I pull all my hair out, so here's a song about it.

I want a new font - one that won't make me sick,
One that won't make me crash my Dell, or doesn't look three feet thick.
I want a new font - one that won't hurt my head,
One that won't make my mouth too dry, or make my eyes too red.

One that won't make me nervous, wonderin' what to choose
One that makes me feel like I feel when I'm in View, when I get bold in View.

I want a new font - one that won't spill.
One that don't scroll too much, or jam in a fill.
I want a new font - one that won't go away,
One that won't eat into my right, one that won't make it bold all day.
One that won't make me nervous, wonderin' what to choose ...
I'll underline too, typeset.

I want a new font - one that does what it should,
One that won't make me wrap to much,
One that won't make me squint too hard.
I want a new font - one with no blur,
One that won't make me nervous, wonderin' what to choose. ...
I'm at home with you, I'm at home with you, yeah.

For Once In My Life

How about some Stevie Wonder?

For once in my life
I have someone who links me
Someone I've needed so long
For once undelayed
I can know their sites ping me
And somehow I know I'll be ponged.

For once I can clutch
What my host used to dream of
Long before I knew
One's nice warm urls
Could my site link to yours?

For once in my life
I won't let traffic hurt me
Not like it's burnt me before
For once I've got bandwidth
I know won't desert me
I'm not blogspot anymore

For once I compile
This is mine, you can't take it
As long as I've got gigs
I know I can make it
For once in my life
I've got someone who reads me

Praise God to Whom All Pofits Go

I dashed this off some while ago to smack some troll screaming that we were capitalists. When he tried to change the subject I said, "I thought we were singing hymns about corporate profits????" It's short but sweet.

Praise God to whom all profits go,
Praise Him the trader in the know,
Praise stocks and bonds and net cash flow,
Praise NASDAQ, Dow, and IPOs.