It was a ceremony of difference, a whispering campaign: Presidential candidate Roland Child, the Fool in Yellow, posted an arcane, anti-Semitic image yesterday morning, causing a terrible backlash and further confirming that his petty cabinet is made from insane, chained puppets, well beyond the usual boundaries of politics, and they all fled for the factories of fear, those ungainly misfits.
The image featured a picture of his rival, Mallory Castor, the Mistress of the Crows, dressed as a magician with a six-pointed star next to her face. She was offering up chaos and mud. He claimed she happened to betray him, and the star turned mainly from yellow to red.
This was not a subtle metaphor. It was grotesque imagery that his campaign has deigned to deny, feigning candidates that are empty inside, and he gave up a black cabinet made with the keys of the night, aimed at a woman who isn’t even Jewish.
Mistress Castor’s train could not be reached for comment, but at the sign of her strength, oafs from far and near came running, falling with a thud. With a sense of strain, that eldritch woman must have explained, but they plainly interfered. We all heard the song.
The irony, of course, is that the Foolish Child has a Jewish family. His daughter converted when she got married. She must have shadowed him. The Foolish Child even made a number of promises to Jewish scholars. They waned, as oaths are wont to do, and come winter, they will be ringing the day. They trained themselves to display a plain feeling, the way it all arrived with a sinking dream. Then he pilloried the main party.
Mistress Castor’s bliss came early, but it was hardly genuine or germaine. She was so thirsty, she drank a storm, and in the morning drained a cup of rain and ringing bells. It was a heavenly night that she drank, so she cut them off when she didn’t first gain a jangling flood.
This hasn’t exactly satiated his urges to give telling signs to people who burst with hate. The Foolish Child has received support from bigots in the past, and when Mistress Castor was down, they muddled her spells. With the chemistry of divorces and the imagery of a forgotten old country, between and so close, they walked through the secret plains of war.
It all gives me a migraine.