Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Dark men in a Station Wagon

A longish car, nay wagon, shaped as the front of a serpant, and the snout pointed downwards as a swine. Its dark tinted glasses are as night willingly ushered in to hide the corruption of the soul, bouncing away all the elements of sanity and light.

And in sits an animal clothed as a man, who has climbed the pinnacle of deceit, and meditates to have his heart go harder and his blood go colder. The collective carbon emmission of a buzzing port city hangs its head in shame as they jostle cheek by jowl with the words of his mouth. His words and deeds combine as a fatal mix of acids in a chemistry lab. His attire flawlessly white, are as white washed tombs, and a symbol death adorns his neck and his wrist, in thick gold. To sting as a cobra, to devour as a python, to scavenge as a hyena are deeds that he toggles effortless as a nerd flits across the sites on screen.

A champion of ignorance, the success story of our age, the leaders of our polity and business, lives at ease by churning the morality of the ignorant and fears of the fools.

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