The True Blues, the Woo Blues, and the Boo-hoo Blues too,
"What else could we believe in if not for IQ?"
Such a sad burden for an enlightened few,
Made to watch helpless as the Low-IQ Crew,
drilled holes in the deck of the Last Hope #2:
"Those fools will soon realize, after the vote,
that drilling those holes while traversing a moat
has left them base flotsam that none will promote!
But we thought ahead, of course, being the GOAT;
we hung to the back so that we'll stay afloat."
Very nice. Perhaps not surprisingly, given my different politics, I went a different direction*:
All the Blues down in Blue-ville believed in IQ.
"But IQ's just a tool. What do you want to do?"
"I want to kill varmints." "In that case, my son,
You should seek out a Redneck, and one with a gun."
“I want to build bridges.” “IQ’s good for that.”
“Stock my pantry with venison.” “Rat a tat tat!”
“I want to pick crops in the sweltering sun.”
“Oh, the Redneck’s ideal (if he’ll put down the gun.)”
“I want to teach school kids.” “In that case, you’ll find,
That you’ll be better served by the one strong in mind.”
“How about to
kill kids.” “Then the
gun’s de rigueur.
But regarding the neck-color, don’t be so sure.
To seek out a Redneck, you needn’t be hasty;
The neck-tint for that task is often just . . . pasty.”
“The lofty ideals of my old Uncle, Sam,
I’m ready to jettison; they’re just a sham!”
“Oh, for that you need Rednecks to team up with Blues--
Those who favor Big Brain's lies, those partial to Q's--
And whack ‘til his body’s the hue of a bruise.”
*But equally mordant, I think I dare to boast.