It Could Be That I’m Smearing You Slightly

[Spoken]
Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we celebrate a handful of miraculous little words that let an entire profession accuse you of anything… while technically accusing you of nothing.

Words like “possibly”… “could”… “might”… “sources say”… and the ever-popular “allegedly.”

Thanks to these humble escape hatches, a pundit can claim you’re planning to eat babies for breakfast tomorrow… and still sleep like a saint, because, strictly speaking, he only said you MIGHT.

It’s not defamation if it’s subjunctive!

And with that loophole firmly in mind… here’s a modest ditty I call… “It Could Be That I’m Smearing You Slightly”

[Verse 1]
Spring is sprung, the grass is riz,
I wonder who the fascist is?
The pundits say it might be you,
Or possibly just someone who
Could, under circumstances rare,
Would, if the stars aligned just there,
Potentially, perhaps, maybe,
Commit the crimes they now foresee!

[Verse 2]
They tell us on the evening news
That you might possibly abuse
The democratic process, or
Could, in a year or two or four,
Would, if you win the vote, perhaps
Enact a plan for death-relapse
Of freedom as we know it, though
Of course they do not claim to know.

[Chorus]
And sources say, and sources might,
That you could maybe, one dark night,
Would possibly, if stars align,
Commit a little genocide!
(Or so one hears!)
(Potentially!)
Between the tears
Of anchors who, with trembling voice,
Report you’ll end all female choice,
Unless it’s proven wrong, and then
They’ll do it all again!

[Verse 3]
When asked for proof they simply shrug
And say “Well, sources in the rug
Have whispered that it might be true,
We’re only asking questions, you
Should ask them too!” They then disclaim
All blame in case you’re not to blame.
It’s brilliant! Clean! It leaves no trace,
A murder with a poker face.

[Verse 4]
So here’s to Rachel, Jake, and Joy,
To Wolf and Chris and every boy
And girl who’s learned this magic spell:
Just preface lies with “might” and “well…”
And suddenly you’re pure as snow,
For no one ever said you’d blow
The world to bits, they only said
You could. You might. If pushed. If led.

[Final Chorus]
And that, dear friends, is why we cheer
The beauty of the hypothetical smear!
Today it’s you, tomorrow me,
But gosh, at least we’re jargon-free!
We’re jargon-free!