Editor’s Note: This morning I was working on the 30th chapter of a little book I am calling “The Seventy Days.” The title is shorthand for the period of sidereal time between the national election in early November of 2020 and the Presidential inauguration on the 20th of January, 2021. So far, it is just an aggregation of strange notes on this extraordinary time in the history of what we knew as The United States of America. It is really cool. I am keeping a sense of humor about a period that includes just about everything. Just one of the strings I am following includes credible reports of a million fraudulent ballots entered into the state counting systems. Atop all the various and sometimes sordid narratives in play- good, bad, honest, dishonest, by turn- are the statutory rules the Constitution lays out about the timing and the means of transfer of power. There are some things going on this week based on the provisions enshrined in that old parchment. Of course, there is also an enormous amount of activity that isn’t. I was lurching into that miasma of untruth when Marlow intruded on my rumination with something shorter and slicker. Let’s do that today, and then we can talk about what is going to happen to all the narratives in the next few days. It is going to be fun!

– Vic

Lockdown Prison Blues

Author’s Note: Whether the Kraken flies or not, many of our countrymen are singing the blues, while the swamp dillies and dallies.

-Marlow

I hear the Kraken a comin’
It’s screaming round the bend
And I ain’t seen voting fraud like this since I don’t know when
Country’s stuck in DC’s swamp prison, and time keeps draggin’ on
But that Kraken keeps a rollin’ low and fast to save ole Don

When I was just a baby my bonnie Donnie told me
“Son, always be a good boy, don’t ever play with Socialists”
But I voted for one in Reno just to give him a try
Now he’s hearing that Kraken screeching, he’s scamperin’ fast away

I bet thems rich big city Commies’re eating in fancy bars
They’re probably drinkin’ Scotches and smoking big cigars
Well I know we dint have it coming, I’m mad we can’t have back our Donnie
But those Socialists people keep a movin’
And that’s what tortures me

Well if they freed me from unemployment lockdown prison
If that Donnie’s good news train was mine
I bet it’d warp-speed us back into good times
Far from this free-stuff prison, that’s where the country oughta stay
And I’d let my Donnie’s tweets blow my lockdown blues away

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