the lurid light from Fu Manchu's eyes includes rendering cinematic the portion of resistance known as political or The Man
we chomp on something reflexive, possibly the robe of understanding, or likelier a stable world view we challenge a crash test, in which information rode to its doom, yet finally we accede to proven capacities and iron clad all the way the poem in its virtue tells Sir Denis Nayland-Smith to precipitate, period, just precipitate our lovelorn sense of country and union and national breakwater pounds a certain thing into shape that shape loses the poem but directs much that is directed we need sameness as we age falling over latter day landings with good cinema cues until we can die in piece with the heroes of the story all such stems from some clause in the patrician variable haymaker from classic Fu Manchu who rouses antipathy to frothy heights of clouds above Nepal and the peeing chant of Chinese troops newly conditioning Tibet for tomorrow allegiance sputters with the crystal browbeating drug of cuffed oldster looking waylaid in the middle of a sentence some stains remain, which we can identify later
