The Presiding Officer’s choice of clothing narrows
(after Baudelaire – and the bible)
One should always be purple. Purple in face and purple in prose. Purple in lies and purple in gestures. Purple in asides designed for the press to hear and for you to deny, laughing in that purple way of yours. You should always drink purple beer and pretend you didn’t go to a non-purple school. You should never mention your huge non-purple bank balance, but get down there with the eager purples who hang on your every purple word and then run off gasping purple elation and purple praise and purple obedience. Seeing your purpleness mirrored in every purple tabloid headline and, gasping purple bile, the purple will kick purple into all the non-purples until they are either fully purple or fully kicked out of this purple land. And the non-purples shall thus fade into the non-purple oblivion of being non-purple somewhere else – in a non-purple place that purples don’t want anything from but purpley cheap things. All hail to the purples for they shall inherit the purple land and the purple water and the purple air and all will be purple forever and ever purple.