News item: This week Syria took up its month-long rotating turn as head of the United Nation's semi-official Conference on Disarmament. Diplomats the world over criticized the move, but to a man and woman they all said there was nothing that could be done. Or would be done. So, with apologies to Lewis Carroll, we ask Gentle Reader to hold this poem up to a mirror, the better to understand it, and the United Nations . . . .
"Somehow it seems to fill my head with ideas--only I don't exactly know what they are! However, somebody killed something: that's clear, at any rate."
--Alice
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Bashar al-Assad!
Of chemicals and barrel-bombs.
His multi-torture chambers nod
sarin, death and firebombs."
Syria followed Switzerland
English alphabet insists it.
This week al-Bashar took top post
of world's disarm an' mints.
The UN post oft switches hands
from Greece to Chad to France.
For next four weeks Bashar has
best chance to dance and prance.
Confer on disarm an' mints
Galumph outfit called.
Butcher al-Assad sits there just now
While rest of world's appalled.
It's as if France has been offered to
burb Oktoberfest this fall.
As if an OPEC nation has
turned anti-oil cabal.
The UN has turned Jabberwock
the nonsense be accepted.
Came whiffling through the turtle bay
Good sense has now been bested.
But this, snick-snack,
is what tumtum tree
global fairs have gone all twisted
When UN is put in charge
of horse sense now enlisted.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe!
Editorial on 05/31/2018