If thou hast chuckled over their facetious and festivous descriptions[…]
Ever since that bone-chilling post-Super Bowl two-parter […] Reid just can't say no to drugs.
The satire here is more heavy-handed and the tone more Juvenalian than in any passage in the first volume.
That the star-trusting parvenue should not have dreaded to treat the French national dignity to the feast of such a humiliating policy, that may yet pass—a tame submission to the Decembrisades may very likely generate strange dreams of misestimation in a mind like Bonaparte’s—but that he should select just that moment for a visit to England, when these revelations are published—that he should come over to England with these disclosures of humiliation brought upon England in his hands—and should, notwithstanding, be received with ovations like a triumphator, or like a great man, a look on whom brings joy and satisfaction on the looker—that certainly is a strange sight, even in these our corrupt times.
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