The First Dig

We have relaunched our weblog. The original Revolutionary Flowerpot Society blog was obliterated by some entity, and since we have not gained well from technical knowledge of our times, we could not figure out the reasons for the obliteration, let alone restore it. So, here we are after two years and some months, with a new blog.

Here is a first dig, in revolutionary rude rhyme. Take it away, Rudboy:

Yo, puck the big wigs!
Their head's too big for their wigs,
They can't think big,
They drink too much,
Before they hit their lunch,
And then have to take a lickin',
That's the way of their bunch.

Speaking of silly oafs,
Did you hear that anserine Moore,
His politics a bunch of hogwash bore,
He can't get it straight no more,
So he twists and squeals with it,
Saying vote for big dicks,
Over there in the right wing,
Just left of the fascist pricks,
Vote for big biz,
Vote in the big wigs.

But we reply, Puck the big wigs!

And the boys and the girls,
In the American Left corner?
Where've they been?
They can't fight no more!

They first take your best gleam,
They gladly dump on your dignity,
They take for granted their indemnity.
Then they turn on you,
And if need be spit on you,
On the first hint of,
"Tryina' get me somethin' quick."

Lesser evil talk is too much shit,
Ridin' us for too long and still,
Gettin' nowhere, just getting stiffed!
They only try to tie you down,
To the worst less evil that comes around,
"Look, this way, right here, stay with the clique."
Not letting you imagine better situations,
Gluing you to their wretched salivation,
Over this miserable status that be,
So that they can get their honey,
And eat it too on the double quick.

So, let's repeat:
Fuck the big wigs,
Dig your own gig!