His balls aren’t made of solid brass;
He’s nothing but a pompous ass.
He crows as though he’s made of gold.
His con is simple and it’s old:
Divide the people so the few
Can rule the many just like you.
The game is old; the outcome cold.
The dice are loaded ere they’re rolled.
The wealthy own the megaphones;
The poor must chew on meatless bones.
It would not work except for lies.
The end result is corpse and flies.
“It isn’t an apocalypse!”
He lies with sickly pouty lips.
“It’s all for me; that much is true.
But if you’re nice, there’s some for you!
If you’re not happy as my slave,
You don’t accept my crazy rave!”
“It’s all your fault for having thought.
My bald-faced lies you should’ve bought!”
The King who now owns everything,
He wants to teach the mass to sing:
“Oh, let me serve you all my life;
Please take my house, my soul, my wife.”
And for a time, the rich survive,
And steal from all as they connive.
Of course, at last, with poor too sick
To work the fields; to lay a brick;
It all falls down as shredded dreams.
Dictatorship is what it seems:
It’s All for One and None for Most.
Small scraps for you while king gets roast.
This land of brown’s a fitting crown.
Above his bloody toothless frown.
The hate he feels for all of life
Now manifests as war and strife.
The trees are gone; the crops have failed.
The books are burned; the good are jailed.
It seems as though a land of lies
Becomes a land of death and flies.
When we look back it seems so clear.
Embrace a lie — you’ll lose what’s dear.
The world indeed has gone to seed.
Dictatorship fills no-one’s need.
The watery gruel; the rules are cruel.
The victim’s blamed for losing the duel.
Unfair, one-sided, though it may be.
The zombies dance the jubilee!
They dance around; they love the sound!
Of flaming witches burned to ground!
It matters not their crimes aren’t real.
Cold cruelty to others is part of the deal!
But Life is Love made manifest.
A hate that kills will kill the best.
A hate that grows as everyone knows
Will lead to carcass-gnawing crows.
And in return — the sole bright spot:
Apotheosis for a snot.
As other cultures waxed and waned.
So too will this one once de-brained.
And if this vision seems absurd
Then try your best to spread the word.
Dictators always sue for war.
It’s never enough; they want still more.
It’s death and dying that’s supplied
When steered by frauds who’ve always lied.
It’s All for One and None for Most.
Dictators live on lies and boast.
They slither into caverns deep.
And there, they dream that all will weep.
At last, of course, they die alone.
To choose to kill; embrace the moan
Of death that’s dealt to innocence
Makes not a single ounce of sense.
This Life sees nothing more obscene
Than one who kills to steal the scene.
Betraying all the lives before,
So he can die with a higher “score.”
Short stories to show how the mind of sociopath works: Link to the first
Why Dictators almost always choose war Link
For those who seek cooperation rather than violence, these attempts to capture “best practices” in collaboration and teamwork might be useful. Here’s a link to the index.
Here’s a link to the first of two essays about creative negotiation.
These stories (with a link here) explore leadership and empathy.
“There is always light if only we are brave enough to see it; if only we are brave enough to be it.”
— Amanda Gorman
While not being naive about the real dangers of dictatorship, one way to push against that is actually to be more loving and kind and accepting than you already are. Think on that. And have a wonderful day.
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