Notes on Commandant Harper
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The intellect of a graduate student with the motivations of an eleven year-old who wasn't invited to the last birthday party.
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A one-man Revenge of the Nerd.
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Remember those sad, bitter eyes looking out from the back seat of the long black limousine that was taking Harper away at the end of the 2004 election? Just after Martin slid into government? That was the day he had to decide between giving up or taking vengeance. Showing us all. Well, it’s his show—and its failures, therefore, will be wholly his and his opponents will take advantage of that.
Once some deeply indefensible offense happens, he will not escape behind his minister flubbing mantras for the press gallery while he jumps into the helicopter out back. Or invisibly grasp his minister’s head, turning and tilting and nodding it as needed to catch blame. The hysterical control he has stretched over everything will lead back to him and reveal the folly of trying to preside consciously over all at once and steer it, trying to catch all random bits flying in his way, manic.
The intellect of a graduate student with the motivations of an eleven year-old who wasn't invited to the last birthday party.
___
A one-man Revenge of the Nerd.
___
Remember those sad, bitter eyes looking out from the back seat of the long black limousine that was taking Harper away at the end of the 2004 election? Just after Martin slid into government? That was the day he had to decide between giving up or taking vengeance. Showing us all. Well, it’s his show—and its failures, therefore, will be wholly his and his opponents will take advantage of that.
Once some deeply indefensible offense happens, he will not escape behind his minister flubbing mantras for the press gallery while he jumps into the helicopter out back. Or invisibly grasp his minister’s head, turning and tilting and nodding it as needed to catch blame. The hysterical control he has stretched over everything will lead back to him and reveal the folly of trying to preside consciously over all at once and steer it, trying to catch all random bits flying in his way, manic.
posted by The Bitchy Poet at 1:41 a.m.
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