Merciful Heaven!

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... O, but man, proud man!
Drest in a little brief authorithy...



His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal.
—William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure, Act. 2, Scene 2



...O, but man—proud man—with a little, brief power in his hands...
He mimics the essence of God like an angry ape, playing such awful tricks that the angels weep. If they had mortal bodies like us, they'd laugh themselves to death.











Meanwhile in the jungle:



I wonder why?

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The Project For The New American Century is alive and well

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I know... Tough, ain't it?

Not everything, you thought it was going to be, was it, sir? The office of the Presidency, I mean.

Or, maybe, not at first, that is.



But don't you worry about a thing, Mr. President, do as you're told, and nothing bad need happen to you.

Giving it enough time, the gentleman may even come to enjoy it. I mean, think of the glory, sir, being the commander-in-chief and all.



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THE MARTIANS DID IT!

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