My late wife Grace’s favorite target was P.F. Sloan‘s fatuous “Eve of Destruction,” which was, come to think of it, the musical equivalent of the Doomsday Clock. She really went on a roll when a grizzled Barry McGwire growled his single hit to an antediluvian PBS audience of Depends-wearing hippies. “How can these idiots sing along with that song as if it wasn’t nonsense, 50 years after the “eve of destruction” never took place?” she shouted, before making me turn the channel to a re-run of “Sanford and Son.”

Maybe Bruce was emulating Eve…” I especially liked the extravagant jibberish of..

And think of all the hate there is in Red China
Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama
Ah, you may leave here for four days in space
But when you return, it’s the same old place
The poundin’ of the drums, the pride and disgrace
You can bury your dead, but don’t leave a trace
Hate your next door neighbor but don’t forget to say grace…

Rhyming “China” with “Alabama’ was particularly ambitious.

“Victory Girls” asks, “Where is his song for Laken Riley, the young Georgia nursing student murdered by an illegal immigrant who should have never been in the country. There is no verse for Rachel Morin, a Maryland mother of five brutally killed while jogging on a trail. And there is no chorus for Jocelyn Nungaray, the TWELVE year old Texas girl whose life ended in a brutal crime committed by illegals…”

Of course not. A song like that would be condemned as xenophobic hate-mongering, and an attempt to spark racist violence against peaceful “migrants” who “just want a better life.” But promoting hate against hard-working law-enforcement officers enduring abuse and missiles as they try to enforce the law (‘or so they say”—asshole)…that noble and fair.