Last night, musings on the unfolding story of the John McCain campaign got me to thinking (a process which happens perhaps too infrequently). I wondered whether Gilbert and Sullivan could survive a close encounter with the Republican candidate. I've taken the liberty of combining Arthur Sullivan's music for "I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major General" with some new, McCain-oriented lyrics. Apologies, of course, to librettist W. S. Gilbert. On second thought, apologies to Sullivan as well. I don't know what either of them ever did to deserve this.
Those who haven't yet abandoned this diary for another may
Satisfy the roving eye that longs to spy things musical
And jump below to have a go at lyrics now perusical
(Graphics created by the inimitable Horsefeathers, ably seconded by brmehlman in supplying me the arcane embedding stuff. HF & BR, mere words cannot express my gratitude, unless they just did. If there's ever anything I can do to repay the favor, just let me know and I'll be eager to help unless I'm busy or just don't feel like it.)
I Am the Hoary Archetype of Yesteryear's Politico.
I struggle -- it's a daily grind -- pretending I've not lost my mind:
Repeat "My friends" -- it never ends -- though triter words I could not find
I'm losing it, confusing where al Quaeda and the Shia go
I am the hoary archetype of yesteryear's politico.
Barack Obama frustrates me, he's maddeningly on his toes
Refuting my illogic while mellifluously speaking prose
Meanwhile, I muff softballs planted in each phony "town hall" show
I am the hoary archetype of yesteryear's politico.
He is the hoary archetype of yesteryear's politico.
He is the hoary archetype of yesteryear's politico.
I waited for my White House turn, I bided my time patiently
Befriending Bush, forgetting all his "black love child" chicanery
And sucking up to Falwell -- there's no limit to how low I'll go
I am the hoary archetype of yesteryear's politico.
Abysmal grades earned bottom of my class at old Annapolis
And though I crashed a bunch of planes, no voter should hear crap on this
Don't speculate on mental state, or wonder "How nuts could he go?"
I am the hoary archetype of yesteryear's politico.
My status as a prisoner, a captive of the NVA
Excuses "bomb, bomb, bomb, Iran" if that pops in my head to say
My hero-status means you overlook each time a pas goes faux
I am the hoary archetype of yesteryear's politico.
He is the hoary archetype of yesteryear's politico.
He is the hoary archetype of yesteryear's politico.