The Gospel According to Bloomberg

I have an article up at The Federalist: “The Gospel According to Bloomberg.” And I have to say, it’s a very Frank J. piece.

“We’ll just be frank with you,” said the Pharisees. “Maybe in one small coastal area of Israel you were actually the best possible prophet they could get — which is such a sad commentary that you’d think people should flee that place and not look back lest they turn into pillars of salt — but in middle Israel — you know, caravan-over country — everyone hates your guts. They think you’re an annoying, out-of-touch, arrogant little jerk. Do you understand?”

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  1. For what profit does a prophet profit if his prophesies be false? Oh how I miss the old (testament) days.


  2. Bravo Frank!
    Hat tip to John Hayward at (and Led Zeppelin)

    There’s an ex-mayor who’s sure all that glitters is gold
    And he’s buying the stairway to Heaven
    When he gets there he knows, if the express lane is closed
    With a word he can get VIP access

    There’s an Amendment on the wall, but he wants to be sure
    Cause “well-regulated militia” might have two meanings
    There are people who think they can choose what to drink
    But all of their freedoms are mis-given

    Ooh, it makes him wonder
    If Mayors Against Guns was a blunder…

    There’s a feeling he gets when he stops at the Hess
    And sees cups that hold gallons of soda
    In his thoughts he has seen fat and lazy citizens
    And the belches of those who drink cola

    And it’s whispered that soon, if he gets to call the tune
    Then Hizzoner will lead us to reason
    And the day will be bright for those who eat right
    Everyone else will get taxed out the wazoo

    If there’s a noise at your window, don’t be alarmed now
    If you’re disarmed they won’t hurt you
    Yes there’s a Second Amendment you can go by, but in the long run
    Only important people should have firearms
    His head is humming and it won’t go, in case you don’t know
    The proles are calling him to lead them
    Dear people, can you hear how hard he blows, and did you know
    His stairway will be an escalator

    As we give his agenda a bounce
    Our sodas smaller than 32 ounce
    There walks a busybody we all know
    Who’s got millions, and wants to show
    How everyone should do as they are told
    And if you listen very hard
    He’ll tell you how to lose all that lard
    Around your big stupid waist
    Forget how good that Pepsi tastes

    And he’s buying the stairway to Heaven…



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