Max Schulz has noted in this space that Kyopenhagen is using (or misusing) Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” as its theme song.

Turns out, Al Gore’s execrable poem at the end of the first chapter of Our Choice also mentions “a hard rain.” I don’t own the book, but here are some lowlights in the order in which Vanity Fair has reproduced them:

One thin September soon A floating continent disappears In midnight sun
Vapors rise as Fever settles on an acid sea . . .
Snow glides from the mountain Ice fathers floods for a season A hard rain comes quickly
Then dirt is parched Kindling is placed in the forest For the lightning’s celebration . . .
The shepherd cries The hour of choosing has arrived Here are your tools

A revealing little image there. The Goracle is not shy to put himself in the role of lord and savior. Consider the book’s dedication, a quote from Dueteronomy: “I’m offering you the choice of life or death. You can choose either blessings or curses.”

Derb has shared his view of the Goracle’s lyrical foray on the Corner:

What is it about lefty politicians, that they feel the irrepressible urge to express themselves in verse? Jimmy Carter gave us a whole book of poems. Now Al Gore has succumbed to the temptation, further strengthening my longstanding demand for a poetry-licensing system. We don’t let people drive cars or fly planes without a license. Why should we let them write poetry? I’d like to see a rigorous test, in which the applicant has to demonstrate full mastery of alliteration and assonance, imagery and metonymy, amphibrach and amphimacer, rondeau and pantoum, triolet and villanelle. Three failures on the test should result in a lifetime ban.