If You Go Out On The Streets Tonight

A ghost-ridden, sinister-spooky night devised 

for children's entertainment is it? October 31 

chosen to expose the childlike and the naive to 

good clean fun and delectable treats in the interests

 of emphasizing how productive mock-sly threats can 

be in prodding home owners to play the game 

or face the shame of denying children their just

awards in preparation to face the world of maturity.

Truth is those pre-teens indulge their parents and 

society's subterfuge in the pretense the game is on 

as they prowl from house to house through unfamiliar 

streets on cold, windy, wet nights with no intention 

of spoiling the spectral sight of ghouls and goblins 

hanging, dangling skeletons enlivened by ghastly

sounds of moans and groans enhanced with orange 

spotlights gleaming on lawn-entrenched graves

shuddering at the absurdity of it all yet reluctant 

to disappoint adult expectations much less waste 

the offerings humbly accepted from simperingly 

delighted strangers on this costume-haunted day of

mawkish memory in adult-inspired entertainment.

Iran Once Was Persia

There is little comfort to solace the 

stricken misery of the people whose

fabled heritage has been dismantled

their natural tendency of grace and

humility transformed by the vagaries

of fortune and time ebbing and seeping

through the skeins of history of a nation

exalted by its guardianship of the

treasures of human aspiration. Who

might have envisioned that country

brought low, its people suffering at

the hands of a theocratic reign uttering

threats against its neighbours, diligently

persecuting its own, pursuing the

ultimate expression of malice through

development of lethal weapons. All in

devoted service to a peaceful Deity...

The Walking Dead

 

A full lifetime of cordiality as a

thoroughly social human being

patterns a rote response and a

flashy smile but this is not the same

man we've casually encountered

for years. The rough outlines of

familiarity remain but the face

is lined and sunken, his gait now

unsteady, his body a mere whisper

of the hale and hearty person we

knew. In an expansive and very

private despair his wife described

him as changed beyond recognition

but we recognized him behind the

studied facade the hurried nod as he

carried on, his two dogs scampering

before him. With their storied senses

do they know, can they detect the

wholesale change, are they concerned?

Clinical depression said  his wife. A

total lack of interest in anything. He

cannot rest easy, has no appetite either

for food or for life, mumbling incoherently. 

Medication was useless and psychiatrists 

little more. Can a fulfilling life so suddenly 

descend into an abyss of the walking dead?

Metaphores

 

The day is cold, the wind brisk and the 

sun wan on this late October day. 

On a park bench sits a young mother

her child upright in a baby carriage

snug in a snowsuit, a blanket bundled

about him. Alert to my presence he

watches intently as I speak with his

mother. I was once that mother, happy

to take my children out to natural

surroundings and the elements, a vital

component of valued exposure to the

things that matter in life. Later I watch

as a young man and woman walk in slow

measured pace behind a little boy his

legs pumping a tiny bicycle and I recall

my father teaching me on a tricycle to 

venture forth, undaunted. Later still people 

walk by on the street barely glancing at 

an old woman planting flower bulbs in 

her garden, busily discounting winter and 

anticipating spring. That old woman who 

negates the inevitability of winter is me.

Name the Nation

Predictably formulaic it never seems to fail

countries accustomed to authoritarian rule

making their initial tentative steps toward

the exoticism of democracy anticipate

it will be inevitable that fortunes will rise 

and wealth will accrue to the elite and the 

commoners but the magic formulation fails 

democracy is discredited once and for all

the experiment with elected offcialdom a 

disaster that must be erased and who better

to effect that return to tradition than the

military never completely enthused over their

changed role in maintaining peace and order

when disorderly conflict held the promise of

territorial expansion and social corruption had

its value in rewarding those faithful to the

fists that struck down any who dissented.

The Culture of Tribal Conflict

Culture is a fine expression of humanity's

love affair with language and literature

our fascination with the science of nature

our longing for music to soften our days

and painting and sculpture to reflect the

natural and the human, the soaring ambition

of architecture complementing our urge to

manipulate the world to our advantage. It  is

the ultimate expression of civilization as

sophisticated populations exalt existence in

and of itself a fine enterprise from birth to

oblivion. And then it behooves us to muse

why it is that cultivation of these symbols of

a higher order of existence differs so widely

from here to there. There is where an enduring

tribalism triumphs the finer instincts jostling

for supremacy, tribe and clan taking precedence

stalling human progress in the primitively

ascendant conflicts that topple order and security

where ancient rites of conflict and preoccupation

with conquest metes out death even as death 

stalks victor and vanquished, in famine and

pestilence, reaping what they ceaselessly sow.

Innocent of Humanity

 

The moral degeneracy of those

without conscience or compassion

strains the capacity of decency to

grasp the enormity of lengths to which

people lacking a compass of humane

direction will strain the bounds of

savagery. Those who aid and abet 

terrorists knowing their despicable acts

are no less guilty of butchery than those

who wield the blade separating head

from body. Adherents of nihilism 

cloaked as duty of service to a deity

unpitying and dire, themselves emulate

enslavement, rape, bondage and murder

yet turn with innocent eyes once justice

prevails to plead ignorance of their heroes'

malicious sadism citing their role as

follower, not criminally guilty even as

they gloried in bloodlust and carnage.

 

The Riddle and the Conundrum

 

Can we surmise that we are the final

iteration of our species? That what we see

is what we are ... from the primeval to the

present fully formulated, present and

accounted for. We are a mystery fully as

much as how and what created us. Trust in

a faith whose divine nature expressed by a

godhead appears suspiciously like humanity

itself whose sacred scriptures sound an epic

prohibition against behaviour typical of

humankind, urging those who believe to

be better than they are. The flawed creatures

that resulted from the master plan of faith's

creation not as nuanced as meant to be

so while made in the image of our maker

verisimilitude accomplished are we entitled

now to ask why the divine being lacks the

compassion scriptures urge upon humankind?

Persecution Perspective

 

It's simple enough, that endless visceral reaction 

instantly recognizable however subtle, masked or 

poisonously overt for its classic overtones of 

rejection of that deplorable race for it originates 

deep within society's subterranean subconscious

in passage from generation to generation often 

passive frequently aggressive, always malicious.

It is why there is little hesitation in defending an 

opposing claim to Judean heritage by those insisting 

it is they who must rightfully inherit a historical

land mass they covet posing themselves as deprived 

through the sinister colonial menace exiled and

returned victimizing those claiming indigenous 

status who have launched an ownership claim 

acclaimed by the Jew-baiters eager to disqualify 

that ancient tribe from claiming what is theirs

in favour of supporting grievous 'victims' of what 

is not theirs as deserved comeuppance

for soiling the globe with their presence.

Lese-Majeste

He was king after all

and just as his presence was

a gift to his people

pride in their royal house

he saw no reason not to celebrate

the very special gift endowed

upon him by nature

and so why would any sane

ruler deny such a libido

for he was after all entitled

since was he not king? It was

nothing but outright barbarism

to exile his magnificent presence

and far more scandalous to

chemically castrate one

so undeniably illustrious for

it is not just any biddable

milquetoast capable of

ascending the throne and

doing justice to the varying

degrees of pulchritude

eager and willing to please...

Rest Easy

Flash: Some things in life are simple

after all. Take umbrage at the presence of

human rights abusers staking their territory

on this planet? Remember that old adage

of a tree falling in the forest? Invoke it

and practise not 'being there'. Should a

national entity make its mark by persecution

imprisonment, withholding the necessities

of life for its population in search of

control never bothering to resist the final

inclination of state murder, is it really any

of  your business? Moral censure makes no

inroad on cultures of psychopathy where

rewards are the obvious old attractions

spurring humanity to the solitudes of master

and slave. Pay no attention from afar. Misery

is the human condition. If you know nothing

of it, after all, it isn't happening. Is it?

Taking Note...Between Continents

The pouting, petulant little man

whose modest and all-knowing

demeanor is the envy of the world

has gone off on another tempest of

irritated pride, baffled that his powers

of persuasion have once again been

shrugged away by a world too long

accustomed to his more experienced

mentor's quiet diplomacy in world-class

issues of national boundaries, business

acumen, human rights and forthright

stealth-acquisitions of science, technology

industry, military and cultural realms

supplanting  the orderliness of global

relations. Taking  his cue from Xi, Kim

is no laggard in the field of international

relations whereby the shock value of

unconstrained exhibitions of volatile

temper-tantrums augmented by the

authority of ballistic missiles, nuclear

threats and hypersonic weaponry in the

possession of outlier ideological nations

has the world sitting up and noticing...

Compromise

Compromise

Well yes, we're fairly pleased
with the little fellows. Mind
they do have a robust sense of
entitlement but it is leavened with
an air of fairness though they're
not entirely averse to compromise
as in they feel it is fair to their
aspirations that we concede and
compromise. So they agree to
suffer the ignominy of our
offering them dog food, never
mind its sterling quality, as long
as we also render unto the master
race their just due. They have
magnanimously negotiated their
just due in exchange for agreeing
to keep household peace, and we 
are duly grateful. Therefore choice
tidbits of whatever we presume to
eat openly in their presence must
be apportioned; to each his due
in this progressive household. And
all, they assure us, is forgiven.

 

Boys Will Be Men

Boys will pack their social pathologies to 

accompany them to adulthood to that time in 

the future when they will become leaders of 

their communities, of their nations following 

the practise run of their adolescence when 

competing for the highest, furthest, most daring 

and dangerous exploits against their peers eager 

to coup the adoration of the younger, less ambitious 

among them even resorting to bringing out their

big gun brothers to intimidate challengers.

Primed for action after mastering the social arts

of braggadocio, threat and deceit, destined to 

lead their trusting peers they now shout across 

national borders while developing larger, more 

destructive military weaponry certain their 

advanced technology superior to the others' 

affirms their claims to power where remaining

Earthbound limits their scope entering the prospect 

of colonizing nearby planets gaining traction in 

the weaponization of space on their way to the 

final destined lap of conquering the universe.

 

There is no Escape

 

In China a catastrophic dearth of

females has ensued from the one-child

policy of the Cultural Revolution 

leaving countless males of marriageable

age without a spouse in a society that

favours boy babies over girls. Now 

that Chinese women are in high demand

they should be placed on a pedestal

of the future in a country whose birth

rate has plummeted. Yet men beat their

wives and when separation occurs and

custodial decisions leave their issue 

with its mother, even ill-thought-of

girl babies are now prized from their

mothers' arms in a conflict of custody

where police deny that a father could

possibly abduct his very own child.

 

 

 

Fear of Mortality

 

Two hard objects clash uncompromising 

and furiously raging one against the other

immovable, their intimate universe reeling in 

the impact, their union suddenly friable after 

navigating four decades of marriage. Molten

anger radiates each citing the other's obtuse

unwillingness to be reasonable though to be 

objectively fair neither has seen the subject 

of their divisive decisions from the perspective 

of the other. They reflect on a future determined 

by encroaching years and diminished time

visualized as each foresees remaining years 

distancing them considering separation yet 

hesitating to despoil assets both have acquired 

in their past harmony of spirit.Their subconscious 

unrecognized resistance of creeping age and 

declining faculties confuses their reasoning

... it is humanity's end-fate that disturbs and 

frightens them not the miscalculation of each 

demanding the other surrender previously 

respected personal agency when she devotedly

followed his wanderlust and now he rejects her 

unease in abandoning city-centric comforts.

 

 

Yours, Humbly

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If a professor of semiotics can casually

undertake to regale his faithful readers

with the tedious mental maunderings 

of a brilliant mind captured by its own

inescapable self-adoration in a

Narcissus-like embrace of himself

why not I, a humble scribbler

no savant, but a lover of words 

and the fabulous, myself? 

Enraptured by, captured by a frenzy 

of fantastic thought, I too will 

declaim and fill pages reflecting that 

which delights my fancy, tickles the 

funnybone of my humorous muse.

From the exquisite sublime to the 

dregs of the banal. He dredges his 

prodigious mind of both in an exegesis 

of boastful excess. I trudge through 

laboured mindset to extract the elated 

stores it harbours in its deepest recesses

confounding extraction and elaboration 

with my dross, here on offer. 

 

 

The Subconscious Primevil

Kindle the embers lying deeply

submerged in the psyches

of those who see intruders

into their societies as threats

to be destroyed even those who

have lived at peace for millennia

under a covenant that recognizes

their presence as distant kin and

the overheated whirlwind of

suspicion turns to hatred bathed

in the molten primitivism of 

survival unleashing the primeval

urge to kill those posing as innocents

whom hate identifies as lethal threats

and a society whose disparate

tongues and faiths, tribes and clans

suddenly turns into a murderous

mob intent on destroying what

generations have built each

convinced theirs is the only 

entitlement approved on high

for is it not their faith for which

they are prepared to sacrifice

uncountable lives of infidels?

 

 

Ghosted Rooms

 

Ghosted Rooms

It is a long anxious journey
fraught with fears 
taking a loved little creature
suddenly assailed with
serious symptoms of
elderly ill health, hoping
for a relieving diagnosis
and a miracle drug for
restoration of life as
it has been and the
desperation to prolong it.
Visualizing the happy
return home, until arrival
at the vast complex
staffed by a phalanx of
smiling professionals briskly
taking command, ushering
process and procedure,
diagnosis and prognosis
resulting in a long, lonely
utterly bereft journey
home, to ghosted rooms.

 

 

Eluding the Jew-Hatred Tag

Times and social mores may have changed but 

there are some mass social pathologies that are 

timeless, simply expressed differently, wickedly 

rampant transparency gone the way of extinction 

lacking the subtlety of opaque suggestion yet still 

recognizable to anyone familiar with the tropes. 

Malicious humour can still find its home in classic

portrayals of long hooked noses and crepuscular

pallid faces, long tapering fingers lovingly counting 

out profit at the expense of the vulnerable fallen

victim to the crude money-lender trading souls

for shekels. A snigger here, a snicker or a guffaw

there, who cannot identify the creature? But that 

venomous humour does not find resonance among the 

refined who prefer to exhibit their so well informed

choices to uphold victims' rights by righteously

boycotting trade, academic and cultural contact

with the symbol of all that is wrong in the world. 

 

 

Legacy

It is no small thing to be recalled in posterity.

Throughout history, notables and those who

consider themselves such in their vanity

considered which of their in/famous acts

of public notoriety they might be celebrated

for, going out of their way to formulate new

and outrageous acts and statements counter to

societal acceptance with that old theatrical

adage in mind 'there is no such thing as bad

publicity' to adhere to the public mind. But

these are individuals, some great in the annals

of  history, most of no account. Uniquely there

is a people who in their collective presence

from antiquity to the present for whom the

great wide world feels nostalgia for the lapse

of their exotic presence; for that minuscule

minority of the world population distinguished

itself as a breed apart and beyond in every 

metric of meritorious or scandalous portion

in their humanity-share of existence. A people

whose very existence has always dangled on a

silken thread of extinction forever facing the

suspicion of 'other'; hounded and harassed

persecuted and murdered yet somehow hanging

on to that thread of existence. The absence from

countless geographies the world over fleeing

disentitlement and death created a vacuum

where they lived for hundreds and thousands

of years. Now the cleansed atmosphere lacks 

verve and invention; the persecutors mourn the

lapse that nature demurs to fill, Jews gone.

Perchance To Dream

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The garden has settled comfortably
into its long seasonal sleep.
A rest well earned, after long, languid
months of unstinting devotion
to pleasuring itself in the grace
of brilliant beauty, dedicated bounty.
Of blooms and fruits; the structure
of the seasons of growth and production.

But there is no full lapse
during sleep. For the spirit
of the garden goes forth to impress
upon the slumbering that this is
but their intermission, before
resuming their splendidly vibrant,
fecund destiny. Nature’s design.

In time, they will rouse themselves
recall that infinite routine
practise to raise themselves
from the cold, dank ground
and proudly present in bold colours
and pastel hues, shaming the
bland grey of late winter, reluctant
to depart the scene of frozen dominance.

First the bulbs will thrust tentative
green shoots, suddenly transformed
to blazing colour, shapes, sizes.
Perennials then, those robust garden
stalwarts, will recall themselves to
riotous duty, sending up preparatory
greens, then rocketing into fragrant,
colourful and orderly ranks, spring
to summer, to mid-fall.

Senior members of the cast will
finally, reluctantly recall their repertory
of late-fall presence and allow themselves
to blaze forth in the primary tints of
the rainbow, reminding songbirds they
too must prepare to launch themselves
into that same old familiar routine.

Minor and major players dream
of those moments when their presence
echoes the season, their bright costumes
lavish displays; perfumed presence
delighting themselves and awing the
creatures of the Earth. Those dreams
so real they can imagine the urgency
to perform. And then, they do. 

 

 

Hushed, Mute Not Unconcerned

She is there for solace, a familiar place of 

comfort where she felt free and unencumbered 

striding along woodland  trails, her hair ruffled 

in the fall wind, her dog lingering here and there

then dashing to reach her side. You are there

to revel in the season transforming the forest 

into an artist's glowing palette, the landscape 

expressed in an abstract flow of tinted colour

the restfulness of the ambience soul-soothing 

and exquisitely aesthetic. She is speaking to you 

and you know she is also speaking of you when 

she comments how unfortunate it is when people 

deliberately distance from her as though in this 

time of COVID there is a viral contagion 

emanating from her presence. You blanch and 

quail in the dismay of one who sought to exercise 

due care not to bring distress to a woman in 

mourning injured by fate and others' tact in mounting 

a discreet avoidance of probing that open wound.

Knowing her loss was a juxtaposition of two

unavoidable conditions; one genetic the second

happenstance and recalling her detailed and

shocked explanation what more is there to say?

The Metaphor of the August Forest

It was a magnificent fall day in the forest. The 

ceiling of the world unblemished by the vaguest wisp 

of cloud, neither pleasant white nor grey-streaked 

black truculently threatening -- and the autumn sun 

claiming its sovereignty over all, warming the 

atmosphere and bringing diffused light to the perpetual 

dusk of the forest interior. Still, all was chaotic. 

Deciduous trees still clasped their dark green leaves 

yet the forest floor was steeped deep in a veritable 

kaleidoscope of colour, rejects from the forest canopy 

carpeting the woodland trails that all may trod upon them. 

As though not demeaning enough to the variant attributes 

of natural selection there for all to see dark-skinned 

pretenders shielding their true identity in the purity

of white-skinned bark not normally associated with 

their kind; a rebuke to nature affecting equality in

all her creatures, a sentiment which fails to penetrate

the subconscious superiority of white entitlement.

Pandora's Illuminating Box

Open a Pandora's Box and out come whimsical

hidden treasures, none so amazing as those reeking 

of moral squalor where hidden wealth is concerned 

amidst the propensity of those born to titled riches

the political elite of the world and a wild assortment of 

those claiming celebrity status who sanctimoniously

tutor the public in generosity of spirit, to graciously 

fund public initiatives to relieve world hunger, rescue 

the planet from humanity's excesses while offering 

nothing of their own but the motivation to do good

themselves abstaining to part with any of their wealth 

placed for safety from the reach of their nation's taxation 

arm in offshore safe havens. They compete for awards 

in hypocrisy with the royalty in possession of untold

wealth administering the affairs of an indigent nation

for whose security pleas garner generous supporting

gifts from other nations governed transparently, their 

relatively well-satisfied population in support of aiding 

those less fortunate while little knowing their altruistic

philanthropy frees the entitled from responsibility.

 

 

Bearing Witness

It is a simple enough matter of credulity.

Who can believe that two million

people have been taken into custody

to be re-educated to spurn their

lifelong values and customs and above all

their religious devotion, a perceived

threat to their host nation as citizens of

grave suspicion. The testimony of former

prisoners; they are victims so declared

spinning a tale too bizarre for belief one

which on elaboration by an ex-victimizer

was in reality a subdued version of the

measures taken to de-humanize, punish

and delegitimize a demographic that is not

of the ruling ethnic group. It is a matter of

cultural-religious genocide, amplified in the

horrors of its vulgar violence and state denial

by the authentic voice of credibility, one of

their very own disowning the psychopathy

of a government he has left, to bear witness.

 

 

Witness

We lull ourselves into believing 

that only the ignorant

those with a deviant mentality

the uneducated and uncultured

the unwashed and uncivilized

of the world could possibly be

racists, haters of others

unlike themselves. Barbaric louts

with no experience of the world

no opportunities sought to interact

with others to determine them

to be just like themselves

worthy of recognition as fellow humans

desirous of the very same things

in life, not sub-human creatures

who have no foundational

rights to live and whose existence

mocks nature's divine creation

whose cerebral function manifests its destiny

in sublime music, poetry, artistic

authenticity, finesse of science

and letters, mastery of chemistry

and quantum physics, divining

the structure of the universe. All

of which one tiny group of humanity

were recognized for in excellence

through Nobel awards but yet were

despised as inferior in every

conceivable way throughout history

until a psychopathic ideology arose

planning to correct ineffable nature's

error, among them thinkers and criminals

whose passionate hatred triumphed

handily over their absent humanity.

Designing the Future

As masters of long-term strategies designed 

to shape a nation's aspirations those of the

CCP in Bejing are peerless. Experts in the

arcane science of human behaviour they have 

but to issue decrees and their vast public 

acquiesces with the nudge of a sea of

informers and enforcers. The largest indigent

population on Earth transformed from feeble

poverty to the pride of financial comfort

abetted by a one-child policy in a culture

where boys are preferred over girls and thus

emerged the imbalance perplexing authorities

with diminished family units and natality in

distress as the population aged and workers

declined upsetting the algorithm of national

prosperity. The science of genetic editing

to produce a nation of geniuses viewed a

rapidly shrinking population compelling an

updated decree of two children per couple

then three children per couple in a nation that

prospered and offered higher education to

females who now forego childbearing in favour

of climbing the ladder of professional success. 

 

Now Hear This:

Nuremberg represented a gesture of outrage

by the world community sending the message

they would not stand unmoved by the plight of 

helpless vulnerable people portrayed as sub-human 

expendable in a world deserving of their absence 

being systematically murdered in an abhorrent genocide. 

This is where recognizable names of the heinous plan

of extermination played their part in abject shame

articulating 'nicht schuldig' casually flicking away

responsibility; surely a breed apart and beyond the 

understanding of most civilized people. There was 

considerably less interest in the actions of vast multitudes 

deputizing themselves eagerly to be helpful as 

enablers and murderers themselves in disposing of 

the presence of Jews in their midst.  And do you suppose 

that this great mass of evil-doers so long unnoticed 

live with their conscience in a state of remorse

or rather live in the fear of discovery? Does the world 

care whether atrocities they engaged in did no harm to

their future lives as ordinary people living ordinary lives 

because after all they are now elderly, ill, near death. 

Think: some of their victims yet living are also elderly

ill, near death, their lives haunted by the ghostly presence

of those they lost, memories of the atrocities they also

suffered grimly alive, and they are desirous of justice...

Jews as Exotica

It is a casual review by a travel writer. Under the 

caption: 'Dutch Tolerance', an eye-catching phrase 

in descriptions of the preeminent place of 16thC

Amsterdam as a cosmopolitan destination: "The 

atmosphere ... created attracted a high-energy mix 

of humanity; immigrants, Jews, outcasts and political

rebels" ... raising my antennae so fine-tuned and

polished over the years, heavy in the ongoing 

experience of anti-Semitism that racists declare 

non-existent. Dutch tolerance is it? That would be 

the country where 75percent of its well-integrated

hundreds-of-years-old Jewish demographic 

failed to survive the holocaust, where of those Jews 

who went into hiding, a third were betrayed by 

Dutch fascist Nazi collaborators. The Netherlands 

of today sensitively protects prostitution, exercising

a liberal view of recreational drug use. In a previous 

iteration the Dutch were great seafarers, colonizing

 countries from South America to Africa and Asia

the most cruel of foreign occupiers whose flagrant 

abuse of native peoples shocked even their French 

and British counterparts. The Netherlands today

invites tourists to visit the numerous sites of WWII

Nazi work camps where Jews were interned as slave

labourers before transport to the notoriously successful 

Auschwitz, where the work of the Final Solution 

was assiduously carried out to free the world of

the onerous, poisonous presence of such exotics.

The Game Is On!

There is no compassion for age or majesty. 

The blood sport of commoners is on display

leaning comfortably on the broad shoulders 

of the 'woke' progressives dominating society 

for whom the sacred trust has become the antics 

of the juvenile-arrested in whose interests 

all boundaries of human decency have been 

breached in the greater need to express solidarity 

with the oppressed of the world who have become

the generation of victimhood personified and

to assuage their 'triggered' hurts for which others 

upon whom they cast blame must suffer the loss of

dignity in an era where no privacy is countenanced

that cannot be revealed somewhat canted in favour 

of hidden perceptions of superiority over the dregs 

of society now elevated to a position of judgement 

finding in their esteemed view that those serving 

the realm of a royal kingdom are scarred with scandal 

imposed by a nefarious world reducing them from 

revered figures of royal aristocracy to craven failures

as mere humans while the revolting masses cheer.