Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Blogging

Don't you love it when your debt slaves carry out your orders for free?

K.C.

3 comments:

The Riel One said...

There are three kinds of intelligence: one kind understands things for itself, the other appreciates what others can understand, the third understands neither for itself nor through others. This first kind is excellent, the second good, and the third kind useless.

Niccolo Machiavelli
The Prince

KC Irving? I think not. Not even a legitimate KC Irving doppelgänger. A secure master does not need to boast about being a master to his slaves. A master knows he is a master and a slave knows he is slave. For the rest of society this relationship is quite transparent and it need not be defined for them.

So why would you accuse Sir Spinks of being a slave of KC Irving? Perhaps you are a slave aspiring to be the master. However, my good friend to be a master you must obtain your own security first, then you can go on to take away the security of others.

But you have not obtained your security, so you can not yet be a master.

Why have you not obtained your security?

The answer is simple. I am your Walsingham. You are not secure - not now, not ever. You will never gain your security as long as I bear the knowledge of your secret.

K.C. Irving said...

Well, Francis.

I hope my boys are paying you well to track me down.

P.S. Dying takes away the kind of tension you seem to be working under - I suggest you come join me in the cold, hard ground.

P.P.S. Machiavelli and just started talking about starting a newspaper down here. Want to provide your journalistic talents to our enterprise?

The Riel One said...

As a Machiavellian, you are aware I'm an owner not a worker. I'll have to respectfully decline your offer of employment.

However I will accept your invitation to join you in the deep cold ground. In fact, I'm under no false illusions of a glorious afterlife.

I suspect that I will be joining you with the other fallen angels sucking on the teet of the great Lucifer as my fortunes change and I became the his slave in the eternal fire.

Oh by the way that reminds me, is Richard Hatfield sucking the teet of Lucifer with you? I've always wondered where that pot-taking, doll-loving, cocaine-using, homosexual landed after he died. I've always considered that the great creator frowned upon you bankrolling his 1970 campaign and that he was doomed by association if not for his other scandalous transgressions like cruising the reform schools for late night companionship. Your confirmation would be much obliged.