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Hark! What is that glimmer on the horizon, that bat-endorsed hall of fame? Irregardlessly thwarting and chastising with one hand, sulking with another and cooking meth with the third, fourth and fifth.
From Wrigley Field to the Peloponnese, what mortal has not heard the name of Canknore invoked for simple impetus; greed. Ayn Rand spun the gossamer threads of hypocrisy, living the life entitled, yanking the chains of the ubermenschen.
Why? Is it the bitter pill of an inflated and inflating ego that provokes endorectocephaly?