Come on now, Come on then

Howling, howling protesters. They're bent out of shape because shapes are so ill defined that they can't help but contort.

As the face of your humanity, I stand for nothing. I know it's wrong, but I'm powerless to act. I cannot make right unless through the wrong means. Let slip my chains and I will make them pay. I will put them in the chains and tortures that they've done to others, but ask yourself:

Will I not just be them? Will I not just become as they were?

And then it's clear. It's never a matter of who's face it is. It only matters who's hand is on the lash.

Tumultuous overthrow and the threat of violence, broken promises and hints of things better left unsaid and unvisited. Lies and scandal and wanton death.

Shapes ill defined.