Most of Georgia is well on its way to having a record rainfall for May.  That “Rain Train” The IP noted a few posts ago just keeps coming, so much so that our area’s famous drought might be coming to an end.  Our water supply, and the supply for folks in Alabama and Florida, the fake lake known as Lanier, is rising.  And we have our rights, as the judge overseeing the lawsuits about the Apalachicola-Chattahoochee-Flint basin has noted:

“People have got to have a right to their electricity, people have got to have a right to the natural resources, people have got to have — have rights to have stuff, and people are going to drink water, you know.”

Like the judge says, The IP has a right “to have stuff,”  Dammit! And he IS going to drink water; you just watch.

Not only is the Rain Train good for our drought, it’s been providing amazing moving pictures of clouds and sky.  The IP’s been taking random shots of the sky after work this May.  Because the Rain Train is running on the tracks of frequent frontal systems, there’s been a lot of convection and turbulence in the air, making and manipulating clouds.  The late-setting sun provides an amazing illumination system.  It’s like The IP gets to watch a short experimental film from GOD nearly every night.  Here are some stills from GOD’s recent work:

THE COUNTRY’S IN THE VERY BEST OF HANDS

From the Musical “Lil’ Abner” (1956)

(Gene de Paul / Johnny Mercer)

Recorded by: Percy Faith; Shelly Manne;

Peter Palmer; André Previn.

Them city folks and we-uns are pretty much alike,

Though they ain’t used to living in the sticks.

We don’t like stone or cement, but we is in agreement

When we gets down to talkin’ politics:

        The country’s in the very best of hands,

           the best of hands, the best of hands.

        [Note: the above two lines are interspersed among

           all the verses and wherever else needed.]

The Treasury says the national debt is climbing to the sky

And govermnent expenditures have never been so high.

It makes a feller get a gleam of pride within his eye,

to see how our economy expands,

The country’s in the very best of hands.

You ought to see the congress when it’s drawing up a bill,

“Where as”’s and “to wit”’s are crowded in each codicil.

Such legal terminology would give your heart a thrill.

There’s phrases there that no one understands.

The country’s in the very best of hands.

The building boom, they say, is getting bigger every day.

And when I asked a feller “How could everybody pay?”

He come up with an answer that made everything OK,

“Supplies are getting bigger than demands.”

The country’s in the very best of hands.

Don’t you believe them congressmen and senators are dumb.

When they run into problems that are tough to overcome,

They just declare a thing they calls a moritorium.

The upper and the lower house disbands.

The country’s in the very best of hands.

    The voters are connected to the nominee,

    the nominee’s connected to the treasury.

    When they ain’t connected to the treasury,

    They sits around on their thigh bones.

    They sits around in this place they got,

    This big congressional parking lot.

    Just sits around on their you know what.

    Up there they call them their thigh bones.

        Them bones, them bones gonna rise again,

        Gonna exercise a franchise again,

        Gonna tax us up to our eyes again,

        If we gets them off of their thigh bones.

The farm bill should be 89 percent of parity,

Another feller recommends it should be 93.

But 80, 95 percent, who cares about degree?

It’s parity that no one understands.

The country’s in the very best of hands.

Them GOP’s and Democrats each hates the other one.

They’s always criticizing how the country should be run.

But neither tells the public what the other’s gone and done.

As long as no one knows where no one stands,

The country’s in the very best of hands.

    They sits around in this place they’re at,

    Where folks in congress have always sat.

    Just sits around on their excess fat,

    Up there they call them their thigh bones.

    They sits around ’til they start to snore,

    Jumps up and hollers “I has the floor!”

    Then sits right down where they sat before,

    Up there they call them their thigh bones.

        Them bones, them bones gonna rise again

        So dignified and so wise again

        While the budget doubles in size again,

        If we gets them off of their thigh bones.

The money that they taxes us, that’s known as revenues,

They compound up collaterals, subtracts the residues.

Don’t worry ’bout the principle and interest that accrues,

They’re shipping all that stuff to foreign lands,

The country’s in the very best of hands.