Fight on! Fight on, 'till the sun drops behind the last horizon - your dreams are made of stuff that can't be hidin' / Descartes would fashion such: I think, therefor I am! "Cogito, ergo sum," you told the whole uncaring mass - and for an answer you receive - a kick right in the ___!
This is the way the world works - not with a bang, but a simper - no flash of glory can we expect - no moment of reward - until our heavenly judge finds fault - with the Governor of New York!
So heave, and pull, and let the strength, that you have gathered as a slave - of regulations and their ilk - you'll take them to your grave.
UNLESS, she cried, unless there is, a way to beat these beasts - at game their own, perhaps it can / be done with ass of the Jawbone!
In references biblical, I might be somewhat lacking, but in a ragged doggerel, some might just say I'm smackin'!
So use the tools that God provides, to take these craven hosts, and shove them up where they belong, and let them rot - Then BOAST!
William J. Fiske, BS, MS, MA, Cantor of Poetry best relinquished to the trash heap within ten mins of arrival - and that's an Order!