The Devil spoke:
"His impending resignation
From his position in the political party
Was brought about by decades of failure compounding
Compounding to an end
As a diffident he granted constant deference
To all those around him—below him, beside him, on the line
He never cared to advance in his carrying of power; he had no preference
No preference for really anything. He could do anything although he could never deign.
For no borders were ever drawn.
His party did not believe in that.
Nothing beneath his dignity, he'd lay naked on his lawn
When at work he'd type dutifully as he sat.
He'd never change anyone's mind or inform one of anything new.
As the propaganda master, he'd merely propagate, indoctrinate, and narrate the story
He'd reinforce what he already arrogantly believed he knew
Oh, and it only took a few; a few lines control men, ain't that scary!
For Republican and Democrat, it's all the same.
You live and you die and in between recite the phrases that hold up your identity, your name.
Likely, probably, if you'd just stop for a moment to be a realist,
You'd realize you never come up with anything original; you'd cease thinking like an idealist.
For in time and death resides the sordid fact
That our felicitous positions come at a sacrifice for a thing we lack:
Originality
For we are well chosen because we are conditioned.
Our conviviality in our groups is not our decision
But a serendipitous side effect of our raising.
Thus he who is original is lost
And he who is lost is nothing.
By the same token, the same price of living
Neither is great the man well entrenched in a group, relentlessly repeating.
For he is just the things he has heard and read
And when he hears nothing, then he is dead.
No longer living, there isn't much more to be said.
He lived, he breathed, he typed, he changed no minds.
Twas in no way remarkable."
