Yet, a turn of phrase uniquely appropriate to the Victorian language so favored by the man himself. A moonbat indeed, but a civil gentleman withal, best wishes for a speedy recovery. And now, off to the Ren Faire!
Foresooth. Thou dost shed tears for yon Magistrate,
Struck so cruelly a blow by fate's own hand,
Layest he there in quiet repose,
Gather round closely by friends for near and from far.
Knowest thou the deeds of yon Magistrate?
For he is well known I tell you,
Only in the ranks of those like him,
Bobolink, Spooked911, and others such doth he stand.
Cry not, I pray you, for the Magistrate,
He asks not for your tears,
Cry rather, pray you,for the leftist hordes,
Struck dumb in their loses this week.
Ah, poor Magistrate, I knew thee well...