Goremon Choir: It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Doomsday

Lyrics by Comrade Ivan Betinov, music by Santa Claus, global warming by Al Gore



It's beginning to look a lot like doomsday
Every-where we turn
we see ice caps are getting thin
because of our global sin
and polar bears are getting a sunburn

It's beginning to look a lot like doomsday
Just as Gore did cry
buy a carbon credit right now
to offset your farting cow
If you don't we'll die!

But the Pa-r-ty bure-au-cra-ts in Bali will set all th-ings to right
Glo-bal warming deniers, they will lose their pitiful fight
The Carbon Credits guard us while we sleep
And the little Dutch boy has no cause to weep...no...more!

It's beginning to look a lot like doomsday
Don't you dare forget:
Buy a compact flourescent light,
Turn off the heat at night,
and huddle together with your household pet!

It's beginning to look a lot like doomsday
Red banners now unfurl
And the whims of the PCC
Soon will be a state decree
All across the world,
all acro-o-oss the-e-e Wor-l-d!


 

Repent, repent, REPENT!!!!
 

Comrade Red Square, you used a fuller version of the music than I had access to, so here are the rest of the lyrics.

But the Pa-r-ty bure-au-cra-ts in Bali will set all th-ings to right
Glo-bal warming deniers, they will lose their pitiful fight
The Carbon Credits guard us while we sleep
And the little Dutch boy has no cause to weep...no...more!

It's beginning to look a lot like doomsday
Don't you dare forget:
Buy a compact flourescent light,
Turn off the heat at night,
and huddle together with your household pet!

It's beginning to look a lot like doomsday
Red banners now unfurl
And the whims of the PCC
Soon will be a state decree
All across the world,
all acro-o-oss the-e-e Wor-l-d!

ADDED TO THE ORIGINAL POST
- Red Square
 

Thank you Red Square for the lovely holiday greeting !! I sincerely wish you All a great Winter Soltice, a Merry Christmas, and a very Happy New Year. Do try to smile once in awhile. It does wonders.

Best Wishes,
Blue Bell
 

When I smile the cats, Calvin and Hobbes, run for cover.
 

Ummm....
 

Blue Bell, with a song in her heart and a chirping bluebird perched on her impeccably manicured, capitalist fingertips,

Do try to smile once in awhile. It does wonders.

Oh looky. Another conservative who thinks the surge is actually working and that the economy is humming along just fine.

Conservatives like you remind me of those Disney princesses who haven't a care in the world, because they cruelly exploit adorable little dancing mice and birds and squirrels by forcing them to do all their caring and thinking for them. After all, what do conservatives know about caring and thinking? Certainly less than those darling little mice you've got polishing your silver, robbed of their dignity by being forced to parade around in Barbie doll clothes.

Conservatives like you remind me of all those heroines from Rodgers & Hammerstein musicals. Yeah, that's right. When you hear about another jeep getting blown up in Baghdad, or another cute baby polar bear (sniff) losing his home to melting ice caps, do you care? Do you wring your hands and say, "We must go to Bali and talk about what we should do to raise awareness about this, because we need to do something NOW?" Of course not. Like the R & H heroines, when these things happen you just whistle a happy tune, sing about your favorite things, or just wash these problems right out of your hair.

What's there to smile about? Our troops still aren't home. Bush and Cheney still haven't been impeached. Our civil rights are eroding by the minute. Even as I type this, I'm constantly having to glance over my shoulder, for fear of being seized and hauled away to Gitmo by one of the Bushgoons. (Did you know a member of the Religion of Peace is waterboarded at Gitmo every 2.5 minutes?)

Why should I smile? The Supreme Court is tilted so far to the right now, that henceforth, every election will be decided in favor of Bush or another Republican. One more conservative pick, and it's back to wire hangers and back alleys for all of us women.

Still want me to smile? How can I, when our once great country will plunge into recession any moment now? When tomorrow I could be homeless or hungry--or at the very least, have "food insecurity"? That Jesus person was homeless, don't ya know--pretty much all his life. If it can happen to the so-called Son of God, then it can happen to anyone, and that goes for you and me too, toots.

Still want me to show my teeth and lighten up? Well, I'd love to, except I'm ashamed to show my teeth to anyone, because I don't have universal health care or dental. Every month I have to decide whether to buy the medicine I need for my skin and tongue infections, or get the latest tattoo and body piercings so I can fit in with my friends and not feel like a freak. It's horrible having to make that decision every time I get my government check, Blue Bell! Simply horrible! No one should have to make such difficult decisions. No one should ever have to worry about that. And no one should ever have to feel left out and like a freak, because they don't have what their friends have.

You want me to sing about my favorite things? Well, my favorite things include the cute baby polar bears, who will soon be no more. Every 2.5 minutes, 10 square feet of polar ice cap melts, and another cute baby polar bear becomes homeless and (sniff) . . . drowns!

And you think if I just smile, all of these problems will go away and magically disappear?

This is the only safe place where I can frown and whine and complain and be miserable. And you and Bush and all Republicans and conservatives want to take that away from me! Well, until Empress Hillary takes her rightful place, this is all I've got. And I will not let you take it away from me! I will not! Dammit, if I have to get off my fat behind, stand up, and exert myself to fight for and defend SOMETHING--even if it means I have to stand outside on a street corner holding up a sign exhorting people to honk if they think Bush's America sucks--then it'll be for this, the Cube--my last refuge of misery.

Now go enjoy your capitalist holiday. Drink your eggnog and regift that old fruitcake that's been making the rounds of your friends and family for the past decade. All I ask is that you feel guilty for having it so much better than the rest of us. That's all. Just feel guilty.

No, put your Gucci wallet away (though I'm sure Comrade Dirk will be happy to take it off your finely manicured, smooth, callous-free capitalist hands). I don't want your charity. I want it from the government. Give it to them. And if you won't give it to them, never fear--Empress Hillary will take it and redistribute it for you in due course. As a genius and The Smartest Woman in the World, she knows best!

What's that, you say? You DO fear the coming of Hillary? You're afraid of what will happen then? No problem! Just do what Deborah Kerr did when she was afraid--and whistle that happy little tune!
 

You go, Commissarka!
 

Commissarka Pinkie

Blue Bell, with a song in her heart and a chirping bluebird perched on her impeccably manicured, capitalist fingertips,

Do try to smile once in awhile. It does wonders.

Dear Commissarka Pinkie,

A thousand pardons !! No !! A Million pardons !! As I don’t 'addictively hover’ over TPC, I didn’t read your post of 12/26 until today… 12/29. How remiss of me !! I feel awful… I just feel Awful !! I really do !! Especially since you’ve obviously been experiencing such horrific pain, torture, and even hallucinations !! Was Santa mean to you this year ?? And those Damn Republican and Democratic presidential candidates !! They’re enough to drive a sane person MAD !! Where will it all end ???

Comrade Pinkie... Do pull yourself together and try not to blame poor lil ole Blue Bell for all your pain and suffering… Had I known… Had I but known of your pain and suffering… I would have soothed your fevered brow with cool compresses… or better yet, by the gentle touch of my small, smooth hand. I could have put a smile back on that frowny face of yours. Next time… just ring the ‘Bell’.

Kindly,
Blue Bell
 

Commissarka Pinkie, I am red-faced with shame, and although the color is a fetching one, it does not become me for people start trying to dip me in garlic butter. Here I sit, in the Adolphus in Dallas, on my Winter Solstice Trip overseeing the workers' paradise to come in the Progressive World of Next Tuesday, down here in Takes-us, waiting for my Eggs Benedict to arrive, to eat here in my suite full of this Louis XIV furniture and I realize that the ham on the Eggs Benedict may not be organically raised by unionized workers with a child-care plan for their 3.7 children each, out of 4.5 fathers each.

Also, what if the ham did not come from a pig that was allowed to choose its mate? That benefactrix of the people, Astrid Lindgren, who gave the world Pippi Longstocking, has issued a perfectly sane encyclical that animals ought to be able to choose their sex partners just like people, or just like Meow with his toaster wife, Helen. What if the pig was actually--quelle horreur--bred without its consent? What if the pig did have the proper suite as do the homeless animals in the animal shelter in San Francisco, each with a television per dog?

I appeal to Cubists with more experience than I have. Does one actually have seizures when one eats an egg that is not free range?

The only salvation is the sauce hollandaise because the Dutch are enlightened and have socialized medicine. And they love it too--the minister of health, while being interviewed about the aborted Hillarycare, which Shall Rise Again, said that they controlled costs because they do not have such high expectations. And the Dutch are perfectly happy to know that if they're over 65 they don't get all the heart work that they might want. But then those resources need to go to the productive proles so that's okay.

I see that I'm wandering. It must be the effect of this loose living on the mind of this old socialist.
 

Excellent! I've got Blue Bell feeling awful and Theocritus red-faced with shame. If I can get just two people to feel as wretched as I do, then maybe 2007 hasn't been a total flush down the toilet--though I'm still ticked that our troops aren't home; that War Criminal Bush is still running amuck, slaughtering innocent people and ruthlessly crushing any and all dissent against his illegal dictatorship; and that we still don't have enough people who care enough to start talking to other people who don't care about how we need their signatures so we can present resolutions to be passed that resolve to take the steps our leaders must begin to take--NOW--to start addressing the problem of what must be done--and SOON--to begin doing something about getting everyone to make changes in their lives in hopes of stopping Global Warming--because there isn't a moment to lose anymore. (Did you know that while you were reading the previous sentence, 10 square miles of polar ice caps melted into the ocean, leaving 100 cute baby polar bears homeless and in danger of drowning? It's THAT dire now!)

That said, I think Blue Bell and Theocritus should each go out and find two people--that's four people total--and fill them with just as much awful guilt and red-faced shame about what's happening to America and ultimately the Planet. Then those four people will each go out and find four more people--rinse, wring hands, repeat, yada yada.

We'll start a chain--call it the People's Chain of Progress (or something)--and it'll be the greatest thing the People have ever done since--well, since the usual marches, sit-ins, die-ins, hokey-pokin's, etc. The important thing is we'll be calling attention to the issues that concern us--and isn't that always the first step toward true Progressiveness?
 

Oh yes, Pinkie, oh yes. I'm quite excited about this. And in fact in true progressive fashion it's the only thing that can get me excited. In fact my computer doesn't want to stay on my lap I'm so excited about making people feel really really bad.

I have a new idea on how to make people feel really really bad. As you know, or may now know, San Antonio has a Sea World. Now I am the first to hate the exploitation of these non-human sentient life forms, especially the crustaceans, which although they are bugs and first cousins to cockroaches (1) they taste really really good and (2) they can be relied on to vote Progressive after (3) they taste really really good.

Back to Sea World. They have an Orca. They also have seals. Did you know that killer whales eat baby seals? I think that we ought to agitate for a cabinet-level post to retrain killer whales to eat tofu. For you see, just because it's nature doesn't mean it's pretty. We have to change nature when it's not warm and fuzzy.

But we have to keep nature when it impedes the progress of the Kapitalists. Do you recall that highway outside of Denver that was rerouted so that raspberry bushes wouldn't be uprooted? Now that's what I call a truly progressive highway. And the sacrifice: millions of gallons of fossil fuel used to go around a few raspberry bushes with a lifetime of perhaps two years.

Damn. There goes the computer again.
 

Pinkie -

I'm also excited about your idea (although unlike Theocritus, I'm using a desktop computer).

I think that you should post a sample chain letter on the Blog, briefly telling people why they need to feel awful, asking them to forward this letter to 12 people, and if they don't do that, 348 polar bear cubs will drown, 698 square miles of ice will melt into the ocean which will rise 246 feet above the scientists-approved level, Bush will continue to abduct and torture innocent pedestrians and tourists at the Washington Mall, etc.

Theocritus -

The idea to alter nature to make it more fuzzy is a grand one. Of course raising soy beans is what human peasants do, and when not forced by cruel capitalist exploiters, they are too lazy to grow enough to feed the humans, let alone countless other species. Why not then train animals to feed animals? I see nothing wrong with hordes of genetically modified hamsters and cockroaches planting, weeding, and harvesting soybeans. Since making tofu may require opposable thumbs, we can train monkeys to do it - or again, genetically modify dogs and cats so they can earn their keep too, instead of lazing about on the couches and licking various Party organs. Imagine your entire household leaving house in the morning, with your two cats joining you for breakfast, then hastening each other at the litterbox, then fastening lunchboxes with Friskies to their collars, and as you get into your Prius they will get on their little tricycles and speed off to the State Tofu Fabrika #61 for the 8-hour shift.

I'm sure we'll find the biggest supporters of this proposal among Labor Union leaders who will see an influx of millions of unionized animals as a sure way to reinvigorate their sagging statistics.
 

Red, by all means let's plasticize everything. Nothing should be immutable, all should bend to our will. I think that Calvin and Hobbes would be much improved growing soy beans. Surely they want something more fulfilling than having me pull their ears all the time and let's liberate Consuelo from sand-box duty.

But why stop there? We can make other things mutable too, and we are shown the way. After all, Nancy Pelosi is considered intelligent and if that's not a change from what nature gave her, I don't know what is.

And why not sexuality? Bruce La Bruce, in The Raspberry Reich has a woman leader of a gang patterned after some of my heros, the Baader-Meinhoff Gang, who declares that "Heterosexuality is the Opiate of the Masses!" And she makes her acolytes do it with each other. And why not? With enough prompting I might get a rise from contemplating the cellulite-laden thighs of Our Many Titted Empress, and Bruno would start camping out, in the best way, in Hooters. And this time he wouldn't be in drag. Now that would augur an earth-shaking change.

But why stop there? There is too much of me, and so I declare that gravity itself is mutable. Why diet when there is all that lovely food to eat? Gravity shall change.
 

Happy New Year? How, may I ask, can anybody be happy when there are crying Bunnies in the world?
Pinkie, you are so right.
Let us weep.
Where's Dr. Kurgman? He usually leads us in weeping sessions. We have sooooo much to weep for. How about a new holiday? Weepsgiving?
 

Laika, I am like so confused. I mean, how can I cry if I'm really pissed off all the time? I thought I was supposed to be 110% righteous rage, you know, all that stuff that the Bushitler does to me that makes me so angry that I can't see straight. My head is about to explode, yada yada yada--take any post from the Kos Kiddies and you get my drift.

But how can I maintain that really pissed-off attitude if I deliquesce into tears? Now I do a good line in hurt tears, those big blue soulful eyes, you know--I spend time every day mugging into a mirror with a Precious Moments figurine just for the maximum effect.

But I am having a real problem switching between blubbering and raging at the flip of a switch. Now I expect that the Chairman could, you know--he does a really good line in rage. And Pinkie is our master, or mistress, in tears. That shovel and vodka schtick is a good one. Babushka, shit.

And I'm the resident bitch. So in this New Year's I shall reform. No, I'm not going to wail on Bruno no matter how much he needs it, and he does, he does, he does. I'm going to quit being so self important because it's not about me, is it? All that bitchiness is really about me, isn't it? How clever I am. When I can be so much more effective as a party member if I can alternate at the drop of a hat between hand-wringing (thank you Commissarka) and raging (tip of the shako to the Chairman).

Then while I've got everyone's attention, Dirk can lift their wallets, Hillary can squeeze them with her thunder thighs, Bruno can astonish them, and not in a good way, with a production number, and finally, at the end I can give them a little repartee:

Well, I can't swear off cold turkey, can I?
 

The only Monty Python episode approved by the Party for viewing in peasant collectives is this one:

Feudal lord oppresses members of the anarcho-syndicalist commune.


 

Quote:

raging at the flip of a switch.

OK then. Rage it is! Just as long as you're feeling something other than good or happiness.
How about baby seals? Rage against the senseless slaughter of the baby seals!
I believe that was the Greenpeace rage about 20 years ago.
Oh...wait a minute. The dying polar bears are eating the baby seals and the dying polar bears are the rage now.
Aww crap. How about if we rage against the dying polar bears and weep for the baby seals?

 

Red Square

Pinkie -

I think that you should post a sample chain letter on the Blog, briefly telling people why they need to feel awful, asking them to forward this letter to 12 people, and if they don't do that, 348 polar bear cubs will drown, 698 square miles of ice will melt into the ocean which will rise 246 feet above the scientists-approved level, Bush will continue to abduct and torture innocent pedestrians and tourists at the Washington Mall, etc.



Comrade, I would be happy to give it a shot, but the People's Blog will not allow me to post a "New Topic." I'm logged in, but when I click on "New Topic" I get a dirty message telling me that only "moderators" can post articles there.

Oddly enough, I can start threads in the bunker and even open a new topic here on Karaoke; haven't tried elsewhere.