Blog Archives

I Tweet, Therefore I Covfefe

5/31/2017

From our 19th century historian Eudora Dickinson:

In the late-1800s, a distant relative of Donald Trump’s, Drittereich Drümpf, ran for governor of the state of Ohio. Drümpf ran a scandalous campaign with controversial promises to build a wall around Cleveland; to banish “Prairie Dogs,” his name for settlers from six neighboring prairie states; to resettle West Virginians and Kentuckians in border-town “Hillbilly Camps”; and to fight for the right for fathers to marry their daughters.

We wrote about the Drümpf campaign HERE.

At the time, national and local newspapers covered the shocking campaign, and they published unceasing bombshell headlines. The press was criticized for giving the candidate such complete and constant coverage – or “covfefe,” a term from the 1800s that meant “attention and exposure.” The papers countered by stating that Drümpf was “tweeting like a bird, and the public yearns to hear his shrill and discordant song.”

Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson’s third cousin, twice removed – at her request) wrote about Drümpf’s run for office and the press’ covfefe of his “tweets” in his now-classic poem “We Covfefe – your Tweets” (below on the left). Dickinson’s poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem “We Cover Thee – Sweet Face” (below on the right).

Right: The Daily Cincinnati Enquirer promised "Complete Covfefe of Drümpf's Tweets."

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

We Covfefe – your Tweets –
Tho' that We tire of Thee –
For that Thyself fatigue Us –
Remember – as Thou go –
We follow Thee so that
We notice All – and more –
And so – repugnant – each day
Thou Con Us o’er and o’er –

So blame the scanty love
We are Content to show –
On every – Tweet – a Hundred times –
For Thou dost fake it – now –

By Emily Dickinson:

We Cover Thee – Sweet Face –
Not that We tire of Thee –
But that Thyself fatigue of Us –
Remember – as Thou go –
We Follow Thee until
Thou notice Us – no more –
And then – reluctant – turn away
To Con Thee o’er and o’er –

And blame the scanty love
We were Content to show –
Augmented – Sweet – a Hundred fold –
If Thou would’st take it – now –

Unofficial Business

5/29/2017

From our entertainment editor Qwerty Lee Dickinson:

It’s Memorial Day Weekend – the unofficial start of summer! When is it officially summer? When the earth hits the summer solstice on Wednesday, June 21st. While it’s not officially the summer, we thought we’d share some other unofficial and official starts times for things associated with summer:

UNOFFICIAL START/ END

OFFICIAL START/ END

Summer Season

From Memorial Day Weekend through Labor Day Weekend

The summer solstice, June 21, through the autumnal equinox, September 22.

Hot Dog Eating Season

From the start of the baseball season to the end of baseball season.

From the start of baseball season to the night before the starting day of the next year's baseball season.

Margarita Season

From Cinco de Mayo through October 15th, the end of Hispanic Heritage month.

Every Friday at 5:00 p.m. until the bars close after Saturday night -- and every Happy Hour throughout the year.

Shark Season

From Memorial Day weekend through Labor Day weekend.

Any time throughout the year you're in the ocean.

Romphim Season

As long as the fad lasts.

Never (and men who wear romphims will regret any photos in a matter of years if not months).

Below: Bannon, Kushner and Trump rock the romphim.

And since it's unofficially summertime, we thought we'd post Emmett Lee Dickinson's now-classic poem, "It will be Summer -- eventually" (below on the left) -- the inspiration for the Jamie's summertime hit, "Summertime Summertime." Not only did Dickinson's poem inspire Tom Jameson to write "Summertime Summertime," it also inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "It will be Summer -- eventually" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

It will be Summer – eventually.
Ladies – in bikinis –
Surfing Gentlemen – with Boards –
And outdoor Grills – with Weanies –

Give up the schoolyard landscape –
As tho’ it’s time to Play –
Go drifting deep in Oceans –
The Beaches call – today –

The Teachers – ending another year –
Will shelve their papered load –
The Kids – take up a merry tune –
Their Parent’s cokes – are rummed –

The Waves Rise – ridden at the Crest –
Head Straight – for those Hills
The everlasting rocking’s – set –
For Gnarly Surfers’ – thrills –

The Summer holds its miracles –
The Fireflies – do – enchant –
Let Cymbals crash – and just have Fun –
Till School Bells say – we can’t –

By Emily Dickinson:

It will be Summer – eventually.
Ladies – with parasols –
Sauntering Gentlemen – with Canes –
And little Girls – with Dolls –

Will tint the pallid landscape –
As 'twere a bright Bouquet –
Tho' drifted deep, in Parian –
The Village lies – today –

The Lilacs – bending many a year –
Will sway with purple load –
The Bees – will not despise the tune –
Their Forefathers – have hummed –

The Wild Rose – redden in the Bog –
The Aster – on the Hill
Her everlasting fashion – set –
And Covenant Gentians – frill –

Till Summer folds her miracle –
As Women – do – their Gown –
Or Priests – adjust the Symbols –
When Sacrament – is done –

He Went to Jared! -- Part 2

5/29/2017

From our 18th centruy historian, Eudora Dickinson:

The secret’s out! He went to Jared! However, Benjamin Franklin once said, “Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead,” and with so many secrets seeping, spilling and spewing out of the White House these days, I keep waiting for the headline “Floater Found in the Potomac.”

All of this is very reminiscent of a political campaign in the late-1800s when a distant relative of Donald Trump’s, Drittereich Drümpf, ran for governor of the state of Ohio. Secrets, surprises, crises and calamities mounted daily in Drümpf’s run for office. We wrote about it HERE.

Emmett Lee Dickinson’s poem about Drümpf’s campaign, “Their little secrets slip away” (below on the left), seems as applicable today as it did then. Dickinson’s poem did not inspire Drümpf to change his ways, but it did inspire third cousin Emily to pen her poem “Our little secrets slink away” (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Their little secrets slip away –
Although Drümpf will not tell –
He’s changed his word a Trillion times
And now his swamp does smell –
But for the infamy each night
There’s some new crisis there
No scandal from our recent past
With this that may compare –

By Emily Dickinson:

Our little secrets slink away –
Beside God's shall not tell –
He kept his word a Trillion years
And might we not as well –
But for the niggardly delight
To make each other stare
Is there no sweet beneath the sun
With this that may compare –

For Part 1 of "He Went to Jared!" click HERE.

He Went to Jared! -- Part 1

5/28/2017

From our current affairs editor Lemuel Stuart III:

From @mattyglesias on Twitter: “Who among us has never set up a secret, secure back-channel line of communication with the Russian government?” – especially one lodged in the Russian embassy.

From @the_moviebob: “Pretty wild how this is turning out exactly how the smart lady lawyer and the constitutional law professor told you all it would, huh?”

I wonder if the latest player in this scandal, Jared Kushner, is still chanting along with Michael Flynn, “Lock her up. Yeah. That’s right. Lock her up.”

Fortunately, the real news – the true news – keeps digging into this scandal, and slowly but surely, the truth will set us all free – and probably imprison a few others.

From @RepLloydDoggett on Twitter: “Just as during Watergate, @washingtonpost is connecting the dots & exemplifying its motto: ‘democracy dies in darkness.’ Keep the lights on” – even while Trump and his swamp critters are frantically trying to cut the circuit breaker off.

The latest twist in this reprehensible scandal called to mind Emmett Lee Dickinson's now-classic poem "The Channel of his Secret" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired his third cousin Emily to pen her poem "The Suburbs of a Secret" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

The Channel of his Secret
A Strategist should keep,
But obvious it was set up
To hypnotize his Sheep.

By Emily Dickinson:

The Suburbs of a Secret
A Strategist should keep,
Better than on a Dream intrude
To scrutinize the Sleep.

Poor Judgement

5/27/2017

From our current affairs editor, Lemuel Stuart III:

First came the dreadful GOP healthcare bill (more like Trump deathcare). Then came Trump’s shocking budget proposal. Now we have Ben Carson declaring “poverty to a large extent is also a state of mind.”

Remember when the GOP claimed a monopoly on family values? Now they don’t even pretend. Cruelty and heartlessness are at the core of the party’s policies and proposals. Hmmm…I wonder what Jesus would do?

Of course, their malice toward all (except the wealthy) calls to mind Emmett Lee Dickinson’s now-classic poem “None can experience it” (below on the left). Dickinson’s poem is not likely to inspire the GOP to change their ways, but it did inspire his third cousin Emily to pen her poem “None can experience stint” (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

None can experience it
With Bounty – have not known –
A life of Famine – cannot see
Settings to which we’re Born –

Want – is a state of Mind?
An outlook that’s Perverse –
That Poverty does not want Wealth –
Is moral Indigence.

By Emily Dickinson:

None can experience stint
Who Bounty – have not known –
The fact of Famine – could not be
Except for Fact of Corn –

Want – is a meagre Art
Acquired by Reverse –
The Poverty that was not Wealth –
Cannot be Indigence.

All Ashore That's Going Ashore

5/26/2017

From our entertainment editor Qwerty Lee Dickinson:

Happy Memorial Day, the unofficial start to summer – and thanks to Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson’s third cousin, twice removed – at her request) we have a three day weekend. It was Dickinson who first conceived of the idea of a three day weekend, and we wrote about it HERE.

Of course, one of the top beach resorts to visit during Memorial Day weekend is Dickinson Lake in historic Washerst, PA (birthplace of Emmett Lee Dickinson). As a matter of fact, "Travel & Leisure" magazine listed the shoreline of Dickinson Lake as the third best beach weekend getaway:

The beautiful lakefront of Dickinson lake includes the following:

* The world’s largest Olive Garden;
* Three different Ripley’s Believe It Or Not museums;
* Four antique photo booths;
* Seven different salt-water taffy vendors (even though the water in Dickinson Lake is fresh);
* The Washerst International Fishing Lure Museum;
* The National Museum of Seashell Art;
* The world’s largest Denny’s
* A full-service gas station that sells three different types of fudge;
* A gourmet popcorn shop;
* A novelty shop that sells invisible dog leashes;
* The Pennsylvania Rider Mower and Push Mower Museum;
* And a Municipal Pier with the Emmett Lee Dickinson Applied Research and Education Center.

Of course, Emmett Lee Dickinson’s favorite thing to do on a three-day weekend was to hit the beaches. He loved to surf, sail, sip margaritas, and sup on steamed crab legs. He wrote about his favorite pastimes in his now classic poem, “The day – I partied – Mirth – and I” (below on the left). Dickinson’s poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem “Three times – we parted – Breath – and I” (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Three days – I partied – Mirth – and I –
Three days – I did let go –
And stove to yield to lively Fun
The Beaches – were my home.

Three Days – I tossed among the Waves –
They caught me – like a Ball –
They sprayed Blue sea mist in my face –
And later I set sail

The crab Legs steamed – I liked to eat –
For dunking – while I dined –
How pleasant was the Thing to hold
Where melted Butter – be –

The Waves grew sleepy – Mirth – did not –
The Bars – like Sirens – called –
The Sunset kissed my Merriment –
And I pressed on – and lived –

By Emily Dickinson:

Three times – we parted – Breath – and I –
Three times – He would not go –
But strove to stir the lifeless Fan
The Waters – strove to stay.

Three Times – the Billows tossed me up –
Then caught me – like a Ball –
Then made Blue faces in my face –
And pushed away a sail

That crawled Leagues off – I liked to see –
For thinking – while I die –
How pleasant to behold a Thing
Where Human faces – be –

The Waves grew sleepy – Breath – did not –
The Winds – like Children – lulled –
Then Sunrise kissed my Chrysalis –
And I stood up – and lived –

Below: The Emmett Lee Dickinson Applied Research & Education Center on the Municipal Pier on Dickinson Lake in Washerst, PA.

1000 Words

5/24/2017

From our current affairs editor Lemuel Stuart III:

Some weird pics have been coming out of Trump's overseas trip:

These strange photos reminded me of Emmett Lee Dickinson's now-classic poem "To see him in this Picture" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired his third cousin Emily to pen her poem "To see her is a Picture" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

To see him in this Picture –
To view him in this Light –
To know of his Indifference
Of others' daily Plight –
To know he's not – Affected –
To know he's more a Fiend
He's cold so should electors from
Last year be Reconvened?

By Emily Dickinson:

Te see her is a picture –
To hear her is a Tune –
To know her an Intemperance
As innocent as June –
To know her not – Affliction –
To own her for a Friend
A warmth as near as if the Sun
Were shining in your Hand.

Lock Him Up!

5/23/2017

From our political correspondent Dorothy "Lottie" Dawe:

"If I did a tenth of what she did," General Michael Flynn used to bark about Hillary Clinton at Trump campaign pep rallies, “I would be in jail today.”

Well, it seems that Flynn has done more than a tenth – even though for now he’s just admitting to a fifth.

Of course, Flynn must have completely forgotten about the philosophy of his partner-in-crime: "The mob takes the Fifth Amendment. If you're innocent, why are you taking the Fifth Amendment?"

Flynn is also asking for immunity. He claims he has a story to tell.

Again, his accomplice asked, “If you are not guilty of a crime, what do you need immunity for?"

C’mon General Flynn. Why do you need immunity? Why are you taking the Fifth? Tell us your story.

This all reminds me of Emmett Lee Dickinson’s now-classic poem, “’The fifth’ – he pleaded – For his life” (below on the left). Dickinson’s poem inspired his third cousin Emily to pen her poem, “’I want’ – it pleaded — All its life” (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

“The fifth” – he pleaded – For his life –
The fifth – the General said
Then He repeated it – at last –
We want the truth instead –

We’ll have to wait for that – to hear
His signal – steadfast plea –
His lips repeated with a “Please”
Toward Immunity –

By Emily Dickinson:

"I want" – it pleaded – All its life –
I want – was chief it said
When Skill entreated it – the last –
And when so newly dead –

I could not deem it late – to hear
That single – steadfast sigh –
The lips had placed as with a "Please"
Toward Eternity –

A Light Touch

5/21/2017

From our political correspondent Dorothy "Lottie" Dawe:

Surely by now you've seen the picture at the left from President Trump's to Saudi Arabia.

What. An. Image.

Can you imagine what Trump would have barked about Obama if he had touched a glowing orb with the Presidents of Saudi Arabia and Egypt?

The anchors at Fox News would all have had to have coronary operations.

Columnist Rex Huppke (@RexHuppke) observed on Twitter, "Worth noting that if it was Obama in this picture, Fox News viewers would've already taken to their bunkers."

@Jeff_Oster tweeted that Trump's first words after he caressed the sphere were, "Does the orb make my hands look bigger?"

@lurie_john noted that tomorrow Sean Spicer will say, "President Trump never touched the Orb. Period."

@TheOtherBarak noticed tha "Orb spelled backwards is 'bro.'"

Interestingly enough, a poem from the mid-1800s by Emmett Lee Dickinson (below on the left) foretold the coming of the orb. We doubt that Dickinson's poem inspired Trump to caress the orb, but it did inspire his third cousin Emily to pen her poem "Of whom so dear" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

It's him so clear
Hands on the sphere
Illumined with a Glow
It indicates – this president's
A Con Man don't you know –

By Emily Dickinson:

Of whom so dear
The name to hear
Illumines with a Glow
As intimate – as fugitive
As Sunset on the snow –

Plus 17

5/16/2017

From our political correspondent Dorothy "Lottie" Dawe:

On the one-hundred-and-first day of the Trump administration, our site posted Emmett Lee Dickinson’s poem “I like a book of Irony” (below on the left) as one of our Featured Poems of the Week for the week of April 30 to May 6, 2017. As our other featured poem, we posted Emily Dickinson’s poem “I like a look of Agony” (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

I like a book of Irony,
Because I go for twists –
I’d rather have Discordance
Than what real Life consists –

The Facts are glazed -- and like MacBeth --
Impossible to reign
Till Birnam Wood to Dunsinane
Upon the Backdrop's hung.

By Emily Dickinson:

I like a look of Agony,
Because I know it’s true –
Men do not sham Convulsion,
Nor simulate a Throe –

The Eyes glaze once – and that is Death –
Impossible to feign
The Beads upon the Forehead
By homely Anguish strung.

At that time, these notes accompanied the posting of the two poems:

Trump just passed the 100 day mark in office, and it made us think of a quote by Homer Simpson: "Facts are meaningless. You could use facts to prove anything that's even remotely true."

Yes, it's true that we now live in an era of alternative facts, real news that is termed fake, and fake news that is touted as "real." This called to mind a poem by Emmett Lee Dickinson, "I like a book of Irony," because of the line, "The Facts are glazed," so we have posted that as one of our Featured Poems of the Week. Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "I like a look of Agony," our other featured poem.

Our political correspondent Dorothy "Lottie" Dawe will have more on Trump's "100 daze" in office coming soon in our Plog (poetry blog) -- so be sure to watch for it!

Now we’re on the 117th day of the Trump administration, and I thought I had better comment on Trump’s first hundred days because the way things are going this week (with the testimony by Sally Yates, the firing of James Comey, the release of highly classified information to the Russians by Trump, the lies to cover-up Trump’s egregious transgression, the news reports of the Comey memo, etc.), it looks like Trump might not make it much beyond 100 days.

So what is there to say about Trump’s first 100 days on day 100 plus 17? The lies, alternative facts, false facts, and cover-ups just keep on coming! It all reminds me of Emmett Lee Dickinson’s now-classic poem "Too often now the White House lies" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "Too little way the House must lie" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Too often now the White House lies
To every Human Heart
That has to hold a keen eye on
It’s orange inhabitant –

Too narrow are his alt-right trolls –
Too vengeful are his scoffs –
To vilify each Immigrant
And Wall our neighbors off –

By Emily Dickinson:

Too little way the House must lie
From every Human Heart
That holds in undisputed Lease
A white inhabitant –

Too narrow is the Right between –
Too imminent the chance –
Each Consciousness must emigrate
And lose its neighbor once –

Of course, the biggest lie from Trump came before he even took office. The biggest lie from Trump came on November 9, 2016. Yes, the biggest lie from Trump was right there in his victory speech after he'd won the requisite number of votes in the Electoral College and Clinton conceded:

"I pledge to every citizen of our land that I will be President for all of Americans, and this is so important to me."

Fortunately for him, he was wearing Trump-brand flame retardant pants that night!