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Song Parodies -> "Deranged Electoral Throng"
Original Song Title:
"The Major General's song"
Original Performer:
Gilbert & Sullivan
Parody Song Title:
"Deranged Electoral Throng"
Parody Written by:
John A. Barry
The Lyrics
I am a scary nutball; I’m deranged, require electrical
shots to my brain to stop the pain I cause in times electoral.
I’m in the news. . .you’d think my ruse would be to act respectable.
Appallingly, trolls poll for me; I should be unelectable.
Acquainted—ain’t—with science (taint!) or matters mathematical,
except for how to scrape and bow and count till Mammon cache is full.
No need to ask: I’ll see you bask, at volume, in my rotten views.
“Why aren’t you in the loony bin?” some ask; “How have you gotten loose?”
Foie gras? That’s nah! What’s in our craw is golden and we’ve gotten goose.
As if at night I light to blight your dreams, mite like an incubus—
when in I’ve snuck in, it’s you I f**k . . .not just when sun gives way to dusk.
You wake, you snooze, you take the screws both diurnal and nocturnal.
To fog folks’ eyes, I log my lies should they slog through my mock journal.
You wake, you snooze; I make the blues both diurnal and nocturnal.
Though hog am I, I log each lie should law eyes gog my mock journal.
I’m no maven and so craven; I blare more than my share o’ schlock;
when you hear me, you will query: “How does this airhead dare t’ talk?!
He makes me gag; he’s just a bag that’s gaseous and globulus,
prefaced by ‘douche’; loutish and louche. The victims of this robber, us!”
I gotta go, got Kochs to blow, and oh so many hinds to buss.
I’ll full admit, I’m full of shit and too much of a slime to trust.
On left or right, I am a blight, and I have always been a whore.
And for attack I keep a flack that’s crackerjack at spin an’ more.
Parties be damned; by both you’re scammed; we rape you, then raise din galore.
I’ve you’ve a hunch I’m out to lunch, should be scrunched in a uniform
with back buckles—I drag knuckles, believe in myths and unicorns.
In short in things political, I’m rank and hypocritical.
I am a scary nutball; I’m deranged, beyond nitwitical.
In short in things political, I pander, hypocritical;
I am a scary scuzzball. My palaver’s pithless, pitiful!
Out from my trap, a fount of crap that’s interspersed with cavilin’.
Big bucks I “earn” while country burns and is by turns unravelin’.
I’m gonna get the gelt, you bet! everywhere I find there is fat;
I am a rat fed by fat cats. And that, I’ve spat, is where it’s at!
I am a stooge for outfit huge that gets rocks off on gunnery;
like Taliban, I pant to ban girls’ plans—scram to a nunnery!
Food stamps for all, that is my call; enjoin the gals, act slatternly—
as long as I’ve a slice of pie from high-price johns that fatten me.
Constituents? Congress is meant to perk-trough in a fattin’ spree.
Expecting ire, I now inquire—it may be met rhetoric’lly—
hip that I mix in these writ shtiks semantics metaphoric’lly:
next time I run, well, will you shun me in process political,
or will you say, “Hey, that’s OK, they all are hypocritical.”
Regardless, though, by now you know: we all require electrical
jolts to the brain; dolts, were the bane of the process electoral.
shots to my brain to stop the pain I cause in times electoral.
I’m in the news. . .you’d think my ruse would be to act respectable.
Appallingly, trolls poll for me; I should be unelectable.
Acquainted—ain’t—with science (taint!) or matters mathematical,
except for how to scrape and bow and count till Mammon cache is full.
No need to ask: I’ll see you bask, at volume, in my rotten views.
“Why aren’t you in the loony bin?” some ask; “How have you gotten loose?”
Foie gras? That’s nah! What’s in our craw is golden and we’ve gotten goose.
As if at night I light to blight your dreams, mite like an incubus—
when in I’ve snuck in, it’s you I f**k . . .not just when sun gives way to dusk.
You wake, you snooze, you take the screws both diurnal and nocturnal.
To fog folks’ eyes, I log my lies should they slog through my mock journal.
You wake, you snooze; I make the blues both diurnal and nocturnal.
Though hog am I, I log each lie should law eyes gog my mock journal.
I’m no maven and so craven; I blare more than my share o’ schlock;
when you hear me, you will query: “How does this airhead dare t’ talk?!
He makes me gag; he’s just a bag that’s gaseous and globulus,
prefaced by ‘douche’; loutish and louche. The victims of this robber, us!”
I gotta go, got Kochs to blow, and oh so many hinds to buss.
I’ll full admit, I’m full of shit and too much of a slime to trust.
On left or right, I am a blight, and I have always been a whore.
And for attack I keep a flack that’s crackerjack at spin an’ more.
Parties be damned; by both you’re scammed; we rape you, then raise din galore.
I’ve you’ve a hunch I’m out to lunch, should be scrunched in a uniform
with back buckles—I drag knuckles, believe in myths and unicorns.
In short in things political, I’m rank and hypocritical.
I am a scary nutball; I’m deranged, beyond nitwitical.
In short in things political, I pander, hypocritical;
I am a scary scuzzball. My palaver’s pithless, pitiful!
Out from my trap, a fount of crap that’s interspersed with cavilin’.
Big bucks I “earn” while country burns and is by turns unravelin’.
I’m gonna get the gelt, you bet! everywhere I find there is fat;
I am a rat fed by fat cats. And that, I’ve spat, is where it’s at!
I am a stooge for outfit huge that gets rocks off on gunnery;
like Taliban, I pant to ban girls’ plans—scram to a nunnery!
Food stamps for all, that is my call; enjoin the gals, act slatternly—
as long as I’ve a slice of pie from high-price johns that fatten me.
Constituents? Congress is meant to perk-trough in a fattin’ spree.
Expecting ire, I now inquire—it may be met rhetoric’lly—
hip that I mix in these writ shtiks semantics metaphoric’lly:
next time I run, well, will you shun me in process political,
or will you say, “Hey, that’s OK, they all are hypocritical.”
Regardless, though, by now you know: we all require electrical
jolts to the brain; dolts, were the bane of the process electoral.
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| 2 | 0 | 0 | 0 | ||||||||
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| 4 | 0 | 0 | 0 | ||||||||
| 5 | 7 | 7 | 7 |
User Comments
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Excellent (if a trifle understated, perhaps ;-) )
You've got my vote!
Thanks, guys.
In the 22nd century, this piece will surely be studied in Senior Honors English classes as a landmark in the evolution of the English language -- right up there with Beowulf, The Canterbury Tales, The King James Bible and Shakespeare's "King Lear."
Beautifully written. Seems as if it could apply to a number of figures frequently in the news.
Nice to be mentioned in such august company, Lenny, thanks--to you too, Patrick.
1. This is written in "the style of" John Barry, not W.S. Gilbert. The only essence of Gilbert here are the cadence and the rhyming patterns. In a sense, this is Barry and Sullivan. As an example, there is nothing here that resembles the light-hearted sarcasm of "many cheerful facts of the square of the hypotenuse." Another hallmark of Gilbert is simple, uncluttered statements containing risible sesquipedalia. You have not taken advantage of this element of style.
2. This is an outright polemic. Gilbert attacks with irony throughout.
3. With possibly one exception, each of Gilbert's lines express one complete thought, not one-half or two. Your very first complete statement awkwardly occupies two lines, and you repeat that construction often. This is not a bad thing in itself, but it's not the way Gilbert wrote.
4. The parody has several instances of misplaced accent, as in "Congress" in the line "Constituents? Congress is meant to perk-trough in a fattin’ spree."
5. Your hyperactive wordplay and vocabulary often result in special-purpose neologisms like "perk-trough" and "writ shtiks," which are comprehensible only when read silently, not recited or sung.
6. You insert internal rhyming where Gilbert had none. I interpret this as celebrating your own virtuosity "in the style of" Tommy Turtle.
7. You have nothing new to say about the universally-known execrable behavior of our elected officials. I think Gilbert would have taken note that most members of Congress either have spouses who are registered lobbyists or have relatives who work for companies which have a vital interest in the Congressperson's opinion on certain regulations.
8. Notwithstanding the above, I enjoyed the parody. You continue to show improvement.
2. This is an outright polemic. Gilbert attacks with irony throughout.
3. With possibly one exception, each of Gilbert's lines express one complete thought, not one-half or two. Your very first complete statement awkwardly occupies two lines, and you repeat that construction often. This is not a bad thing in itself, but it's not the way Gilbert wrote.
4. The parody has several instances of misplaced accent, as in "Congress" in the line "Constituents? Congress is meant to perk-trough in a fattin’ spree."
5. Your hyperactive wordplay and vocabulary often result in special-purpose neologisms like "perk-trough" and "writ shtiks," which are comprehensible only when read silently, not recited or sung.
6. You insert internal rhyming where Gilbert had none. I interpret this as celebrating your own virtuosity "in the style of" Tommy Turtle.
7. You have nothing new to say about the universally-known execrable behavior of our elected officials. I think Gilbert would have taken note that most members of Congress either have spouses who are registered lobbyists or have relatives who work for companies which have a vital interest in the Congressperson's opinion on certain regulations.
8. Notwithstanding the above, I enjoyed the parody. You continue to show improvement.
In not so many words...I thought it rocked
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