The torch and pitchfork crowd
is the real monster
they arise aroused and banded
together terrified and furious,
impotent with rage
to become something greater
than the few or the one.
To become Us. Mighty,
and mighty scared alone,
but together we are
mad strong.
The monster awakes, terrified
and furious.
In this case, we hope it's just
the one
one monster,
all the accounts
and rumors, terrifying us
these past few nightmarish
days,
it all sounded like the same thing,
one thing - beyond ken! Ken,
let's all admit it, is an asshole
but THIS thing! It scared us
beyond all admitting, and made
us feel scared. Weak about it.
Powerless.
Helpless. Welp,
here's an end to THAT
Because the only thing worse
than any It
The only thing worse than Us
Vs. Them, usually
is us vs. one.
Us vs. It.
Grab your pitchforks, boys
I mean men. Oh sure, let
the boys come along. Show
them something. How men
manage monsters. Well,
monster, let's hope to God.
Not plural! Hell, bring the women
- women and girls, could you
manage the torches? We're all
forked up, you could
just sort of
strew yourselves through
the mob, add a lurid glare. That's
the stuff! All aboard, now
march in the most disorderly
fashion! A rabble! This is
mob work, boys - men
I mean.
It's time to show the world
plus this damn monster we
hate, scared us so -
who the real monster is.
Any
time
we
have
to.
It's us! Here we
always are, and
a moral to the story,
maybe. If you're a
monster, don't.
Or if you can't not
be a monster, just
don't scare us, ok?
We can't be good
for you
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