Andrea's Play Pen

The posthumous tragedy of the consummate political animals of Lindsey Graham's ilk is that when death, as it did in his case, comes for them suddenly, with no forewarning, they get no time and no chance to repent, even (and indeed, first and foremost) to themselves, for the relentless lie of the double life they'd knowingly and cynically led for the sake of being and staying *relevant* and in close proximity of power - for the terribly blinkered life of a human pilot fish ("prilipala," in Russian: literally, the kind of fish that "glues" itself to a shark for protection and the reflected heady sense of the shark's invulnerability and being the universally feared ruler of the ocean). Having deliberately betrayed themselves by abandoning their own earlier and more honorable and perhaps even somewhat idealistic selves and eschewing, opportunistically casting aside the inconvenience of having even a minimally firm set of moral and political principles, people like him end their short turn on this tiny little planet of ours "unbetrayed" by themselves and unforgiven by others. A purposeless life of a hollow man purposely subverted, derailed, effectively wasted by its owner. A sadly ignominious fate.