WikiLeaks, a madman shooting a Congresswoman in Arizona, Roger Moore, Al Gore, Al Sharpton, the Moscow airport bombers, it’s all the same, actors and madmen, smiling for the camera, intent on their fifteen minutes of fame.

 

 

Madmen stomp and scream and rage

Why not, the world is but a stage

A stage for actors large and small

Who crave only the curtain call

A bomb, a gun, it’s all the same

A data disk, it’s just a game

What matters is, it gets on Drudge

A nut or hero, yours to judge

But these are just off-Broadway plays

Distracting us in many ways

From distant actors, larger roles

Who pull the strings on us dumb proles

The money men, behind the scenes

Who run the show, the ends and means

We’re in act three, the closing pause

The curtain falls, to no applause

 

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