Upbraid a fool and thou shalt be a fool thyself.
Do not upbraid a fool and the fool will persisit in his vanity.
Ah that old Mesopotamian Rag!
Sleep with they neighbour's wife while he is away and the adultress will liken you to a piece of bread. You shall become a piece of bread.
The last of the Mesopotamian people walk amongs us. They carry their literature and largely, we pay no heed.
We pay no heed to 20,000 years of living, because we are more enlightened, smarter, hip.
And all the while echoing the manifest to of some l9th century no-account who came upon an ass's bridge, thinking he knew more than all the men and women of history. Karl Marx, that upstart whose philosophy all we liberals unconsciously ape, right down to political correctness and our homage, even admiration for the Chines Garbageman/woman.
They want us all to be Chines garbagemen/women.
And they have very nearly succeeded.
Religion is the opiate of the masses, they tell us, while here in Canada, Marxism seems to be the opiate of the asses.
What this country needs is a "Barat" from the Glorious Republic of Kazakhstan.
He'd straigten us out. But movie attendances are down.
The Brits gave us a country, gratis. No bloodshed, no civil wars. A gift.
And what did we do with it? Became carbon-copy Americans, right down to the credit cards.
Became Chinies garbagemen/garbabewomen. Sold all our resources and became drawers of water and hewers of wood.
Three balls hanging off the pawnbroker's sill.
Our balls hanging in the wind.
Donald, where's your troosers?