Lords buy Lords.
Lords buy Knights.
Lords and Knights spend on Wars
And, oh my, do they reap.
Wars only deplete Smallfolk.
Knights fall into line
And cover up their deeds with pretty murals
So Smallfolk pass by, thinking the words mean Something.
Unhealthy, and blamed?
Smallfolk? Over centuries they try to rally
But their pocketbooks and
Willingness and ability
To sly matters past
Under the guise of other legislative titles
Are nothing compared to the
Once elected and now unseatable ones
Delighting in their stools,
Now theirs, gerrymandered forever,
Barring the way to all but their ilk.
What underlies these stoolies?
- Knights In the Congress Take Oaths of Fealty:
Blah blah says the Knight seeking or holding a Stool;
To the Lord:
Then I am your liege, O Deep Special Interest.
I will Koch your books, promote your Products of the Stool,.
I will shield your back, if you open your pocketbook.
I will keep your counsel and identity secret,
Except if it pays me to leak.
I will give my financial life for yours (in your dreams, cross those fingers)
If need be (whew -- will never get to that)
"I swear it by the old gods and the new." *
- Lords, the Secret Puppeteers, accept and reciprocate:
And share my perks and hootch with kinghtly thee.
And I also do this:
Get you re-elected, and
"(I) Pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you into dishonor.
(Except that I will pay you mightily for each such event
That is in my interest, whether or not serving anybody else.
And, of course, you shall not refuse, lest thee be primaried
By my legions of peasant-smallfolk outside the wall
And lose thy stool)." *
- And the Smallfolk:
Lords seen and unseen say this and that
Until it is believed, the Lords
And the Knights with Talking Points
Poisoning the well for the true tale.
And the Smallfolk split
Some, whether those Smallfolk believe it or not,
They delight in the attention for saying it. **
But other Smallfolk, those who did not swallow?
Each such Smallfolk quietly gets a photo ID.
- The Tale. Who careth a whit?
Kingmakers, highborn who coast and inherit,
And wannabe kings, care for kings,
And none care for the Smallfolk.
What does it take, Smallfolk.
To gain a voice? Que pasa, hombre?
Phat chance, while bannermen go where they are paid,
And follower-Smallfolk follow.
Accuse noone of shallow thought,
But at least, some follow the fanciest piper.
* Game of Thrones, Clash of Kings, George R.R. Martin, Bantam 2011 at p562; and then 563.
** Ditto but at p. 613