There is a land, uncharted on all ordinary maps of acts-&-facts, wherein the king worships and adores the people; he lives to serve the submissive. (While dreams won’t take you there, it is only through such that history has made any note thereof.)
“Focus-up over here and remember, my boy,” said his ole man, “no one who came before you knew as much as you do – (and, if I may continue) if what I’ve said is not true, then same, shame, shame on you.”
To a select few, this one sport describes the ideal moral process thusly: Use up-to-date statistics to plot the system’s construction; then make all needed modifications to ensure the optimum, immediate results; then, squeeze the system until it bursts and showers you with profits, benefits or whatever else you want.
Still clutching the tattered Ole Sorehead’s banner, he loudly declaimed that the intellect of intellectual people was obscenely overrated.
A guy who reads the Daily News (but asks not to be called “a reader”) writes in to say that he bets we can’t guess what he’s going to write in to say.