Fox “news” – KensView

Till there was…

There was Fox on the air
But I never heard such whining
No, I never heard it so much
‘Til there was You

There were Reps on the Hill
But I never saw them plotting
No, I never saw it before
‘Til there was You

Then there were spiteful and jingoist speeches
They tell me
In your MAGA rallies
Of Strum und Drang

There was hate all around
But I never dreamed it growing
No, I never feared it so much
‘Til there was You

Then there were round-ups and deported masses
They tell me
And filling up prisons
With libs and gays

Freedom was all around
But I never thought much of it
No, I never thought I’d lose it
‘Til there was You
‘Til there was Don

Marmalade Blond

MAGAS will fawn for the marmalade blond

As FOX lies keep on.

They’ll cheer from the couch for the guy they adore

As FOX lies keep on.

And their brains are so empty they could surely implode;

The poor sobs will give you alarm.

They’ll ne’er leave the guy with the menacing bangs

While FOX lies keep on.

What comes ’round …

What Fox says must be true,
Lying words stickin’ like glue.
Cryin’ ‘bout the chaos, they push right-wing spin.
Listen to their BS, can’t let commie Dems win.

They dish out hoaxes; and they, they mislead too.
Watchin’ them is a zoo.
Raisin’ up the hackles of those who’ll never learn,
They spout pompous blather, with a shifty word turn.

Do they buy the Orange man’s con
On their prime-time cable news show?
Will they dare let the secret out?
That is something we really doubt.
They won’t tell you truly what they feel.

Dominion suit the real cure?
Talking points, scoring sure:
Showed all what Murdoch had just testified
And took sleazeball phonies for a billion-buck ride.

Justice got, not so sure.

Assaults’ fault?

Left-wing wokeness
Pot psychosis
Drag queen advocates
Snowflake Democrats
Old values crumbling
Video gaming
Lecturing on CRT
Price of free society
Depraved rap music
Colin Kaepernick
Few armed teachers
No school prayers
Illegal immigrants
Urban gang violence
People, not guns
Not enough guns
Antifa drama
Must be Obama
Declining church going
Lib Media crowing
Of course, law breakage
Surely gay marriage
President Biden
Black people breathing
Watching pornography
Sheer immorality
Insecure locks and doors
Mental health factors
Lack of bullet-proof vests
Marxists and Socialists
Police defunders
Unarmed ministers
Women’s rights
Too few whites

Or NOT…

Pandemic

Why do we keep on keeping on
In the face of such disaster
when health policy is no good for no reason
when everything supposed to be right is wrong
when the CDC says something
and the FDA says something
and somebody remarking on public confidence
says something
and the public won’t wear the masks?

What keeps frontline workers working into the night
and keeps them going in the morning
living on coffee and waiting for things to end
cleaning counters and wiping vegetables
as if some answer lay in a disinfectant
and despite those among us who
irrationally and without a doubt
are leaving their trust in
Tucker Carlson and hydroxychloroquine?

Why don’t we say just screw it
And stop trying again and again
to march into the President’s pressroom
with half an idea about the Wuhan virus
hoping he’ll have the other half
and hoping what he says will happen
when his stable genius
gets lit by something never tried
and he states will work this time?

Could it be it,
that we do all this over and over
just for those times
when a revelation may rise among us
like something ever re-birthing
a new life, another hope
something not immediately visible but
leading us to a real solution
and the salvation of the human race?

Jaundiced Journalism

“Faux News” runs wild, a fevered rush,
Reports dressed up in garish hues,
Where truth is buried beneath the gush,
And headlines shout, but hardly muse.
“Scandal!” they cry, “Chaos unfurled!”
A splash of blood, a twist of fate—
The world reduced to noise and swill,
A circus show, a fearsome bait.

The facts are twisted, frayed, and thin,
Wrapped in the weight of a crafted lie.
The truth, once pure, is drowned within
A storm of rumor, a painted sky.
The rich, the poor, the saint, the thief,
All cut and worked to fit the frame—
A realm of rage, of thrill, of grief,
But never one that rights the game.

Media drips with yellowed tones,
In reckless spatters, sharp and bright—
There’s no concern for the groans,
As long as it sparks a fight.
Who cares if justice bends or breaks,
If the story makes patrons bite?
A nation sold on the latest take
On that juicy piece from last night.