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William Lyon Mackenzie King

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William Lyon Mackenzie King
Sat in a corner and played with string,
Loved his mother like anything,
William Lyon Mackenzie King.
--
Dennis Lee, "William Lyon Mackenzie King"

 
William Lyon Mackenzie King

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William I知 sorry I let my brother hoist you up the mast in that crappy jury-rigged bosun痴 chair while everybody laughed! William I知 sorry I could build better fires than you could! I知 sorry my stack of Christmas cards was always bigger than yours! ... William I知 sorry I invented bop jogging which you couldn稚 do! I知 sorry I loved Antigua! I知 sorry my mind wandered when you talked about the army! I知 sorry I was superior in argument! I知 sorry you slit open my bicycle tires looking for incriminating letters that you didn稚 find! You値l never find them! ... William! I知 sorry I looked at Sam but he was so handsome, so handsome, who could not! I知 sorry I slept with Sam! I知 sorry about the library books! I知 sorry about Pete! I知 sorry I never played the guitar you gave me! I知 sorry I married you and I値l never so it again!

 
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He had the haughtiness of Henry the Eighth, without his spirit; the avarice of Henry the Seventh, without his exactions; the indignities of Charles the First, without his bigotry for his prerogative; the vexations of King William, with as little skill in the management of parties; and the gross gallantry of his father, without his goodnature or his honesty: he might, perhaps, have been honest, if he had never hated his father, or had ever loved his son.

 
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William always scanned the airports and airplanes for little brown guys who reeked of fundamentalism. That meant William was equally afraid of Osama bin Laden and Jerry Falwell wearing the last vestiges of a summer tan. William himself was a little brown guy, so the other travelers were always sniffing around him, but he smelled only of Dove soap, Mennen deoderant, and sarcasm.

 
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There is something slightly sinister about Prague, just as there is about Lyon and Turin.

 
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Your entire universe will not be enough to make me guilty. You are the king of the Gods, Jupiter, the king of the stones and of the stars, the king of the waves of the sea. But you are not the king of men.

 
Jean-Paul Sartre
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