Count FathomMan evolved a hand from paw and set that hand to writing law. At first our men did pass the test, seeking laws that served us best. Those men are gone, and in their place we've put a sadly selfish race. Preening feathers, beating chest, popular theironly quest, their only merit, only aim. What a shame, the way we've structured this important game.Each new leader, he or she, hopes for immortality. Achieves, he will, this state of grace, when law is but a piece of lace he wears to decorate his face. So write, he does, at a furious pace, as immortality his name does chase. What have we now? An endless book, as government our freedoms took away from us, by one but one, until that freedom's all but done. Each new rule these fools do write, from our freedom takes a bite. Under his persistent eye, behaviour he will codify until his name in lights does shine, he cares not how the law confines. Read More Read Less
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