Syrian jabberwocky

Hold this nonsense poem to the mirror

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!