Archive for the ‘Mike Huckabee’ Category

Weirdness From George Will

Tuesday, March 8th, 2011

I almost always disagree with George Will. So it pains me to say this, but George Will is right. I’m referring, of course, to Will’s column lamenting the Republican 2012 presidential prospects — more specifically, the “vibrations of weirdness emanating from people associated with the party.” He illustrates his column with recent Mike Huckabee and Newt Gingrich shenanigans. And he doesn’t sound all that thrilled with the rest of the Republican pack.

That brings me to my latest limerick:

Weirdness from George Will
By Madeleine Begun Kane

George Will wrote a column with bite
On the GOP president fight.
He finds weirdness within
The candidate din.
Had to happen one day — Will is right.

Liz Cheney’s Song

Monday, June 8th, 2009

When Judge Sonia Sotomayor was first nominated for the U.S. Supreme Court, I started writing this Mike Huckabee-related song parody:

Maria,
I’d swear that her name was Maria.

Unfortunately, I got distracted and never finished it. However, I did find another use for this Leonard Bernstein West Side Story tune. My latest song parody concerns the ubiquitous Liz Cheney:

Liz Cheney’s Song
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Liz Cheney.
You just can’t avoid Lizzie Cheney.
The former Veep’s to blame.
Their surnames are the same, you see.

Liz Cheney.
I sure would not miss Lizzie Cheney,
If suddenly I found
Liz Cheney unrenowned. Yippee!

Liz Cheney.
Say it loud and her lies are playing.
Make her stop, I confess I am praying.

Liz Cheney.
She’ll never stop fibbing.
Liz Cheney.

The most terrible lies I’ve ever heard.
Liz Cheney.

Ode to Mike “The Poet” Huckabee

Monday, May 18th, 2009

I have some new competition in the political poetry arena. Apparently, former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee fancies himself a poet and has written an anti-Pelosi screed in the form of a really bad poem called Fancy Nancy. Here’s a taste of Huckabee’s versification:

Here’s a story about a lady named Nancy
A ruthless politician, but dressed very fancy
Very ambitious, she got herself elected Speaker
But as for keeping secrets, she proved quite a “leaker.”

***

If forced to believe whether the CIA and her colleagues in Congress are lying;
Or it’s Speaker Pelosi whose credibility and career is dying.
I believe in the integrity of the men and women who sacrifice to keep us safe;
Not the woman who has been caught flat-footed, lying to our face.

***

Mike Huckabee deserves a limerick, don’t you think?

Ode to Mike “The Poet” Huckabee
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Dear Huck, you’ve no rhythm or rhyme,
And your verse about Nancy’s a crime.
Your ditty ain’t witty.
Your talent is bitty.
Your poetry’s awful. Try mime.

I Won’t Graciously Submit To Mike Huckabee

Saturday, December 15th, 2007

How lovely! In addition to Huckabee’s other “charming” attributes, he’s a “wives should graciously submit to their husbands” aficionado.

In June 1998, the Southern Baptist convention amended its official statement of beliefs for the first time in 35 years to declare that “a wife is to submit graciously to the servant leadership of her husband.” And Huckabee, a former Southern Baptist minister then serving as governor of Arkansas, signed a full-page ad in USA Today in support of the statement (along with 129 other evangelical leaders).

Back in 1998 I parodied this brouhaha in a satirical piece, which Bridge News syndicated to a bunch of newspapers, including the Houston Chronicle. Oddly enough, it was initially bumped by Bridge, as too controversial.  Then, after some heated discussion, it was unbumped. Here it is:

Religious Fervor, Or Fever?
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Hey, Madeleine,” my husband Mark recently said. “How would you like to convert?”

“What?” I said, immediately suspicious.

“We’ve been Jewish for a whole lotta years,” Mark said. “I thought it might be time for a change.”

“Did you have any particular religion in mind?”

“Well, they all have their good points. But I was leaning towards Baptist.”

Mark’s suggestion took me by surprise, After all, he’s a reasonably religious man, and I’m a devout member of a tiny Jewish sect known as “So Reform You Don’t Even Have To Show Up.”

I tried to stall by offering to take his conversion idea “under advisement.” I figure this approach works for judges; why shouldn’t it work for me? And it’s served me well throughout our marriage — I’ve had his suggestion that we go white water rafting under advisement for a dozen years.

But this time Mark refused to take “under advisement” for an answer. “If you were a good wife, you’d graciously submit and convert. And you’d do it right away.”

“Do you have a fever?” I asked, becoming seriously concerned. “Maybe we should get you to a doctor.”

“Oh forget it,” Mark said.

At least I think that’s what he said. He’s hard to understand with a thermometer in his mouth.

But he was a healthy 98.6, so I couldn’t blame his odd behavior on a fever.

Puzzled, and remembering that I’m supposed to be a journalist, I decided to investigate.

“Has your husband been acting strange lately?” I asked several friends.

“You mean more than usual?” three responded. The fourth demanded to know if I was wearing a wire.

These women were tough. But by using interrogation techniques I learned in Humor High, I finally pieced together the terrifying truth: My husband, my friends’ husbands, and countless others had succumbed to the influence of an evangelical group that preys on men who married feminists and who for years have been pretending not to mind.

I was stunned and bewildered. How could this happen? Could I have done something to prevent it? Was there some warning sign I missed?

Come to think of it, Mark had been acting strange lately. Out of the blue, he began opening doors for me and refused to let me carry anything that weighed more than a pound. And twice, in what I foolishly assumed was a playful imitation of Alexander Haig, he said “I’m in charge here.”

Worst of all, when I criticized President Clinton, he said, “Don’t bother your pretty little head about that. Foreign policy is my domain.”

Mark’s under treatment now, and I’m guardedly optimistic. He hasn’t mentioned converting in a week. And once, when he was carrying several clumsy packages, he even let me open the door.

But his recovery is slow with frequent relapses. Yesterday he ordered me to quit my job and stay home with the kids.

When he’s better, I’ll have to remind him — we don’t have any kids.

(Crooks and Liars has more.)