more fitting , less analogous question is wether Capitalism is any more dangerous then Socialism
But let’s see. Biden is old and rich. He has to play the game of the hypocrat, He must be middle of the road, otherwise he would go down like a lead, inauthentic balloon. But balloon becomes a baboon, like a liberated Bannon. There is some truth in the laws of syllogism and simile6, that cannot cover it’s tracks, enough so, that kids will exclaim that he is but a naked ape.
So the derange spreads into the very beginning of the cave, and the stronger of them is obliged to protect and support his own ilk.
Now this took place when The Word was not out yet, Bout what is The Good, The Wise, and the Beautiful. In fact, it is, as if what was, will eventually have to reset, into what it should and must be.
So the middle had to be included, and the logarithmic beat of life had to return to binary uncertainty.
Guess that’s the way we like ut, the big bettors want to win big, they up the ante, the billions of babe fed innocence as weighed against the essence of a haute qualitas, the essence of which would drive masses into delirium.
Is Biden dangerous? Ill est dangerous.!
outwardly pleasant, but inwardly aware of the trappings of immense international power, hiding a latency to scuttle a thousand ships and butcher enemies by the millions, all in guise of harboring the sacred idol of democracy.
The person is an indiginous counter sign to himself, a mirror within reflecting good intensions,
International socialism is really a misnomer, covering a basic, instinctual will to overcome the periphery, the subtle nuance of hiding and seek of mutual flaggalation. It has never been different, at least not in kind.
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Bravo the revolution of The Internationale!
PS: I just want to go home, and feed on a balanced diet, until a new haven can be developed somewhere , in the eternities of space.
New poem, nothing to do with the last one but inspired nevertheless a want for audience:
In the dead
Of the night
As the panes roll Dow the drops,
In that dead of dullness, sought a partner in crime.
2
Winds flapping, beating the monkett, want to tear it’s eyes out,
The ridiculous without the mundane
Once not hashed outsought you and you no where were
Were you?There?
3
No no no by all means Rudolf Valentino was once a busboy in the old Alexandria hotel where even Harding supped, as most recently described.
John Fonte
Blind as a bat but he was from ancient Italy
Now one thing leads, to another, follows that John Fonte was blind. Blind as a bat. .
3
In that cold heartless dead of night.
caution that could turn the pan into a cauldron’ couldn-stop him.
4
But actually you could head a pin drop, a little autistik kid could even unheard it not.
No . no he could not, but contrary to all disaffectations , later, very later, perhaps in a dream he could.
AND Did He. Why , did he ever. And behind unimaginable lore of pornigraphic proportions.
This fiend learned me , no me learned ,but somehow got away.:
No buggy deal, only HUGE vaporous lefting inside left cavity of upper torso.-all in vain foreign dialecticallu private language notwithstanding
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