The Younglings are in disharmony
Curious we were, about the flap of late. Smell not right, it does. The younglings are all in disarray.
Disturbed they are, by the behaviour of one of their own. Voice out loudly they did, and others said more. But a matter of great import this is.
At it's core, lies the propriety of the sphere, and the rules which are unspoken but expected to be followed. What is odd is not the impropriety of it, but the voices which speak to drown it out. Voices which will in other spaces proclaim the sanctity of speech and expression, yet choose to denigrate the poor boy with the big brass balls.
Within this conflagaration lies the duality of the sphere: a proliferation of ideas within the societal and cultural marketplace and a conformance to the same rules they had hoped to break. Liberal stances would have resulted in the lack of any import to the picture and personages in question, but liberal is as liberal does. Choose then they did to sound their hearts, and what follows was a series of retractions, private messages and hidden insults. For they understand not true liberalism. That would imply the right of the wayward ballsman to have pressed onto his fur carpet the mounds of anyone he chose and not be judged for it.
But judge the others did, and in taking that path, caused disharmony.
The Sith wonder if the shouts of impropriety and unfit for purpose were true to their calling, or nothing more than the wrath of women scorned by the one recently awarded a high honour.
Nevertheless, the Force is strong and remembers everything. Hide you may, but the collective wisdom of the Sith predate your insignifiant births. This will haunt your psyches for a long time, and break it will, the recently found camaraderie. For true liberation, you have yet to find.
The Sith chortle with glee at the disharmony in the sphere.
Disturbed they are, by the behaviour of one of their own. Voice out loudly they did, and others said more. But a matter of great import this is.
At it's core, lies the propriety of the sphere, and the rules which are unspoken but expected to be followed. What is odd is not the impropriety of it, but the voices which speak to drown it out. Voices which will in other spaces proclaim the sanctity of speech and expression, yet choose to denigrate the poor boy with the big brass balls.
Within this conflagaration lies the duality of the sphere: a proliferation of ideas within the societal and cultural marketplace and a conformance to the same rules they had hoped to break. Liberal stances would have resulted in the lack of any import to the picture and personages in question, but liberal is as liberal does. Choose then they did to sound their hearts, and what follows was a series of retractions, private messages and hidden insults. For they understand not true liberalism. That would imply the right of the wayward ballsman to have pressed onto his fur carpet the mounds of anyone he chose and not be judged for it.
But judge the others did, and in taking that path, caused disharmony.
The Sith wonder if the shouts of impropriety and unfit for purpose were true to their calling, or nothing more than the wrath of women scorned by the one recently awarded a high honour.
Nevertheless, the Force is strong and remembers everything. Hide you may, but the collective wisdom of the Sith predate your insignifiant births. This will haunt your psyches for a long time, and break it will, the recently found camaraderie. For true liberation, you have yet to find.
The Sith chortle with glee at the disharmony in the sphere.
posted by Darth Perfidious at 2:43 PM
1 Comments:
the farce is strong in this one. and isn't sith an anagram of shit! still, a good attempt at keeping things in perspective, perfidious it may be.
may the farce be with you!
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