Diogenes’s Sewer

Please help me out here. Your current president values statues over lives? He’s trying to make damage to a statue in the capital region a crime–retroactively?. I thought your system did not allow something to be declared illegal after the fact. Oh, well, I never claimed to be an expert on your laws–or anybody’s laws, for that matter.

After all, if you kill off a dozen or a hundred people or even a thousand people, it’s easy to make replacements. On the other hand, it costs a lot to recreate, repair, or repair a single statue.

I really shouldn’t be surprised. Your president would rather have people die quietly so that they do not make him look bad by adding to the coronavirus statistics. In fact, if–as he wishes–testing is significantly limited, it should be almost impossible to claim that any deaths are due to the coronavirus.

As you know, I live in a sewer. Some call it a large pot, but large pots are used for–you know. Such large pots are not used to cook spaghetti. Get the picture?

So, whenever this is all over and your current president is no longer in a position of authority, please–PLEASE–do not suggest to him that he would be welcome to join me. My sewer is mine, and only I will determine which humans can stay here.

The rats and the other vermin with whom I share my sewer make their own rules and I am not responsible for whom they invite.

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