My Particular Mirage
Saudi Arabia must be a wonderful place! I have seen incredible pictures of the sand.
Indeed, I frequently contemplate a particular mirage.
Does their great culture have theater? I am ignorant and empty headed, but perhaps I shall try to fill it with images of beautiful Saudi women, veiled, and kind. The Russian theater is apparently coming to town, but it is of little consequence to me, I will skip it. I am a fan of the surreal, but a scenario where the villain in a losing position dictates terms to the world is far too trite and contrived a premise even for me.
“What will the main thrust of the performance be?” I asked the wind as it blew about grains of sand. The wind predicted a yawning and dimwitted plea for the murderous regime to have some sanction relief, while keeping the land they have stolen. “Eye wateringly stupid,” the wind blew at me, “and a waste of time.”
The Saudi’s, I’m sure, will be impeccable hosts and facilitate this Russian mirage, I hope with tolerance as opposed to approval.
Further, I am troubled by tweeting, and tweeters. The President of the United States thumbed out, “He who saves his Country does not violate any Law.”
It is my sincere hope that the judiciary is a thing of iron, upon which Donald breaks that particular belief. And in truth, I don’t know if this man forged the anvil, or observed its creation, but I think of him now: “Tis the judge must tell men what is law, upon the hearing of the controversy.” Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan (1651).
Though it has done me no good, I remain an officer of the court. I know that a silver thread runs through the hearts of many people far better than I. I am confident they will ensure that “no man’s error becomes his own law.” (I stole that, too. Same guy.)
And who are the heroes best positioned to give the judiciary this opportunity? Why, a sight for sore eyes! My beloved Newshounds! Access be damned, let the normally well behaved friends of man, now growl with wolfish reawakenings! They know the true masters that they serve! The children.
Please find the small whirlwind of ease above, read by me below. The words are always, and will always be, my own.