“A fight is under way to allow Saint-Flour Cathedral… to continue having premium hams dry as they hang from beams in its 135-metre-high tower” —Church Times
Please, cultural affairs committee, Bestow a modicum of pity On our crucial, but petite Commercial venture curing meat.
After all, it wasn’t smoked Charcuterie that once provoked Our Lord and Savior’s fit of rage On that ecclesiastic stage!
So when discussing our appeal, Perhaps you’ll gather for a meal. Before you vote to shut us down, Will that be Grey Poupon, or brown?
So Mitch steps down. Let’s give the man his due: He never failed to recognize a cue. Grey Eminences bow their heads, inspired; Because of him, no judges will be hired For decades with the faintest tinge of blue.
You think the party’s been made over new? Mitch sowed the seeds and watched them as they grew. No Garlands for the Court! He’s justly tired, So Mitch steps down.
They’re all his progeny, the happy crew
Grabbing both houses and the White one too;
He must be proud to see what he has sired: His vote saved Donald Trump from being fired! There’s really nothing left for him to do,
So Mitch steps down.
“Trump allies say Project 2025 is on as Heritage affiliates vie for cabinet posts” —The Guardian
“Now that the election is over I think we can finally say that yeah actually Project 2025 is the agenda. Lol.” —Matt Walsh, on X
Now say goodbye to rights and stuff you like— Our candidate pulled off the perfect “Psych!“ No question Trump’s about to do our bidding. “What’s Project 25?” he said. “Just kidding!“
“Italian officials said they had dismantled a Europe-wide network of forgers and dealers selling works purported to be by A-list artists, mostly through auction houses.” … The carabinieri named the case “Operation Caryatid” —The New York Times
Don’t tumble for talented twisters! This year, unashamed criminali Have forged some artistic A-listers, Including both Banksy and Dali.
Collectors were sadly unwary, Till somebody slipped up or ratted, And handed the Carabinieri The triumph they call “Caryatid.”
“I’m straight up just saying, we should not have women in combat roles. . . [M]en in those positions are more capable.” —Pete Hegseth, prospective Secretary of Defense
I am the very model of a master of the Pentagon. The war on wokeness is the vital mission I am bent upon. You’ll see me put the kibosh on inclusion and diversity, Insinuating they amount to sexual perversity. In warriors that I command, there is no place for estrogen. Give me a fighting force composed exclusively of manly men. I was a TV talking head who earned a mega-MAGA name. The skills I need to run a war machine are pretty much the same. I fawn upon the tweeter other savvy pols have fawned upon. I am the very model of a master of the Pentagon.
“Crowds flock to quiet street to spot rare bird” —BBC
Shelf, miles from North America, is where Committed British twitchers flocked to catch A sighting, as a songbird that is rare Reviewed its options on its foreign patch: Look here for mates—for other refugees Escaping Trump’s US? Risk flying back, To somewhere south of Florida’s high seas— Though not to Haiti, where there’s too much flak? Advance, to where a songbird wouldn’t freeze— North Africa? Although warm winds invite A scarlet tanager, would lack of trees Give raptors easy pickings for a bite? … Excited twitching never harmed a bird— Remaining Shelf-bound, surely, is preferred!
“A Rural Missouri Town Fights Big Tech, and Itself: Residents of Peculiar battled developers and some of their local officials to keep a giant data center out of their community.” —The New York Times
Let’s hear it for Peculiar. They stood up to Big Tech. They would not just roll over. Instead, they gave them heck!
Now they still have their village. It gives a body joy to know one has a lifestyle that others can’t destroy.
They stood up to Goliath until he stomped away. Now they have what they fought for— at least until that day
When someone schemes to profit and starts to sow new doubt, and they wake up some morning to find they’ve been sold out.
“Universe would die before monkey [or chimpanzee] with keyboard writes Shakespeare, study finds” —The Guardian
A million chimps can type until the world has ceased to be And never pen a Hamlet, Caesar, Lear, or Richard Three. Surprised? I must confess, my friends, I lost the urge to bet On random writing monkeys once I saw the internet.
“When drone footage of the complex of 732 castles appeared online a few years ago, they quickly became a viral phenomenon: there are dozens of YouTube videos marvelling at the cluster of Disney-like chateaux. Since then, the mystery of whether they will ever be finished has only deepened.” —The Guardian
At Burj al Babas, until lately, The would-be noblesse has been thrilled: A group with an eye for the stately Has bought up some landscape to build
A fleet of châteaux, all dead ringers, Providing north Turkey en masse With Louis Quatorize-ish humdingers— Old French with new plumbing. Alas!
Though each of them should be an idyll, A palace for Bête and for Belle, For reasons remaining a riddle, They’re none of them more than a shell,
And all of the money expended Has vanished as down a crevasse; And thus very sadly has ended The promise of Burj al Babas.
What’s more, the whole vista looks comic: A townful of turrets in rows; So think of the cost economic, And ponder, next time you propose
Investing in urban expansion For luxury housing galore: If one thing detracts from a mansion It’s something just like it next door.
“The I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! [Australian TV show] camp is reportedly facing an unusual challenge with an invasion of [non-native] poisonous toads.” —Inside News Hub
When Aussies planted sugar cane, The farmers sent requests To help their faltering campaign To rid themselves of pests.
Conscription of their shining knight, A poison-laden toad, Did not prove useful as it might As history has showed.
But after 90 years have passed, They’ve earned their keep, you see— They’ve beat a wretched pest at last: Reality TV.
“The oldest known fossil tadpole was a big baby… A newly detailed fossil finding pushes the record for earliest known tadpoles back an additional 30 million years… The petrified [fossil] shows that the… characteristics of tadpoles had already evolved in some of the earliest frogs.” —Science News
Wiggledy-woggledy primitive pollywog, death was apparently scary for you;
paleontologists sadly report you were only a baby, and petrified too.
