I have decided it is now time and I am establishing a new field of study that blends mathematics and political science, which I have named idiometry.
Simply put, idiometry allows one to measure just how close one can take the statements or promises if any politician and square them with the actual facts.
Then you repeat this for all of the statements of that politician and you inevitably find the square unattainable, there simply are no perfect squares yet achieved in idiometry, for no politician ever seen on a public stage hews perfectly to facts, always veering off into self interest or blatant ideology, so perhaps idiometry isn’t worth it, telling us what we already knew full well.
My history is like an ill- sewn quilt, odd pieces of parents stitched loosely together, always ready to come apart, fade or be thrown away.
Perhaps my history is more like a beloved old pair of jeans, holes appear and are patched, patches wear out and are replaced, or the hole is just left, as if it were somehow a fashion statement.
There is little normal when you are adopted, loved perhaps, but always on the edge of being an outsider, and when that is repeated, the distance grows exponentially, until you find a birth parent or two and the holes are patched with dreams of what might have been.
As King, newly appointed, he mulled over what to do for his first official act. The predecessor King was known to be much a recluse, one who tolerated people as a necessity of a Kingdom, and he would say, a good source of revenue to the King. That one didn’t last long, never imagined the people could rise up and overthrow a monarch. He would be more benevolent, but he did need to make a strong initial statement. It came to him – and he issued a decree banning all mirrors and shiny surfaces in public, and he knew it was a good idea when everyone else grew ever older, and he, he knew, never aged a day.