Those who show their having met Waterloo in the discipline of the utmost important virtues for man, that is, self-discipline should not possess the Mandate of Heaven, that is, the right to rule. Isn't the supreme ruler of all, the most virtuous also, isn't it? And those who possess none, they but are the false Gods whose worship is but a sin. They in their professional blacks are the blobbed rotund yin devouring the yang, though seemingly composed, but through bureaucracy swinging swords rather than pens. They about whose presence rains oil are bringing hell onto our world. Far from us be then these miscreants and banished they be from the rays of the sun! Not a man deserves to be cast to the Gates of hell through the Styx if such cowardly snakes go unopposed—and we will! But what to do, what to do? Do the impossible my friends! To govern a country, let us compare it to sailing: no matter how strong or intelligent, one cannot sail against the wind. So blow with all your lungs, cast not a breeze but a gale! The haste toward the abyss, in which humanity has embarked is not completely swallowed—even less digested—and will not be insofar as discord exists between heads, whose horns clash perpetually against one another. Goats are we and in a herd do we live! Thousands and thousands years of rumination have only produced such primitiveness and we are about to meet our maker or rather our tormentors. As long as we are earthly, we are a step closer to the precipice every day.