Maybe They Want Him at the UN

There must be a lesson in all this. You get Mugabe's and Putin's and Saddam's boys to clap for you in New York but a few months later the peacock has been turned into a feather duster back home. I will work on building portentous-sounding adages like For he is not a god of the living, but of the dead: for all die unto him later. For now I will have a cool DPA and a belly-laugh. Too bad, M Pompadour.