Subterranean Firedog Blues

Bernanke’s in the Fed Vault,
Mixin’ up the medicine,
I’m on the pavement,
Thinkin’ about the government.
The pol in the empty suit,
Used to work for Abramoff,
Says we got a deficit,
Wants to get it paid off.

Look out kid,
It’s somethin’ you did,
God knows when,
But you’re doin’ it again,
They’re insane inside the Beltway,
So find yourself a new friend,
The man in the Republicrat hat,
Workin’ for Big Ben,
Wants ninety dollar bills,
You only got ten.

Matt Tiabbi . . .

The bank’s unprecedented reach and power have enabled it to turn all of America into a giant pump-and-dump scam, manipulating whole economic sectors for years at a time, moving the dice game as this or that market collapses, and all the time gorging itself on the unseen costs that are breaking families everywhere — high gas prices, rising consumer credit rates, half-eaten pension funds, mass layoffs, future taxes to pay off bailouts.

The economy got run over by a shock doctrine freight train, but at least we can still count on the FEC, NSA, TSA and every other agency, known and unknown, to respect the Constitution and the Bill of Rights . . .

Grayson comes fleet foot,
Taken down by Chamber loot,
Talkin’ that the heat put,
Plants in the bed but,
His phone’s tapped anyway,
Hamsher says that many say,
They must scan us every day,
Orders from the TSA.

Look out kid,
Don’t matter what you did,
Be wary of the shadows,
What’s coming only God knows,
You better stay away from those,
With Beck on their radios.
As their minds close,
And their hate grows,
You don’t need a weatherman,
To know which way the wind blows.

Paul Krugman: There Will Be Blood . . .

The very serious Mr. Simpson said on Friday, “I can’t wait for the bloodbath in April.” Think of Mr. Simpson’s blood lust as one more piece if evidence that our nation is in much worse shape, much closer to a political breakdown, than most people realize.

It’s hard to realize how this situation is resolved without a major crisis of some kind. Mr. Simpson may or may not get the bloodbath he craves this April, but there will be blood sooner or later. And we can only hope that the nation that emerges from that bloodbath is still one we recognize.

Get sick, get well,
Hang around FDL,
Write well, but it’s hard to tell,
If anything is gonna sell,
Try hard, get scarred,
Cut up all your credit cards,
Get jailed, jump bail,
Voting’s been an epic fail.

Look out kid,
You’re gonna get hit,
‘Cause losers, cheaters,
Six-time users,
Hangin’ round the Capital,
Every one a corporate tool,
Lookin’ for a new fool.
Welcome to the cesspool,
Of degradation and misrule.

Bob Herbert: Hiding From Reality . . .

The wreckage from the recession and the nation’s mindlessly destructive policies leading up to the recession is all around us. We still don’t have the money to pay for the wars we insist on fighting year after year. We have neither the will nor the common sense to either raise taxes to pay for the wars, or to stop fighting them.

All we are good at is bulldozing money to the very wealthy.

Get a job, not a chance,
Yes we can, meant no we can‘t,
But get dressed, get blessed,
Make the Dems a success,
Please Baucus, please Reid, buy gifts,
Clap loud, be proud,
Twenty years of schoolin’
But there’s no work on the day shift.

Look out kid,
They keep it all hid,
You could jump down a manhole,
Light yourself a candle,
Take shelter from the scandals,
And lies on all the channels.
But you’re gonna bleed,
Unless you fight greed,
The economy won’t work,
Until we confront Bernanke’s vandals.

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