It’s hard work keeping up with the Chickenhawks. The cast of lying clowns changes so quickly.
The video below is at least two years old now – but to my eyes it looks even more dated.
Politicians’ faces displayed are mostly yesterday’s war criminals, though the media chickenhawks are more durable.
Perhaps a mash-artist out there could update this late 1960s classic by Credence Clearwater Rivival with some new ‘face-overs’?
If you do, please let me know.
Lyrics of John Fogerty’s ‘Fortunate Son’…
Some folks are born made to wave the flag, Ooo, they’re red, white and blue.
And when the band plays hail to the chief, Ooo, they point the cannon at you, y’all!
It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no senator’s son, Son.
It ain’t me, it ain’t me; I ain’t no fortunate one. No.
Some folks are born silver spoon in hand, Lord, don’t they help themselves, y’all!
But when the taxman comes to the door, Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale.
It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no millionaire’s son.
No, no. It ain’t me, it ain’t me; I ain’t no fortunate one. No.
Some folks inherit star spangled eyes, Ooo, they send you down to war, y’all.
And when you ask them, how much should we give? Ooo, they only answer more! More! More! Y’all.
It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no military son, Son.
It ain’t me, it ain’t me; I ain’t no fortunate one, one.
It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate one.
No, no, no. It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate son. No, no, no.

