I feel a little guilty.  I am coping with some rather personal stressful stuff at the moment, and to unwind, I have started to watch the Breaking Bad season as it starts up again, on Netflix.  I had thought to write another critical love poem to this greatest of TV shows, to compare it to Shakespeare, to speak of how Heisenberg - that co-opted alias - is now synonymous with complex evil, as Iago was.  But then I think of Egypt - and a far more complex evil swims into view - or rather, a more evil complexity - for politics and people seem to mix badly some times, and there seems no clear answer in that tragic moment for that great country - because of such confusing paradoxes - the legitimate government was overthrown for being a tyranny in utero, and the new saving revolution is seemingly more steeped in blood than the last guardians of so-called Democracy.  How to praise the depiction of one man's ruination, when in the history of today, unfolding, we see a whole nation's self-immolation.  Perhaps that is too grand.  But I did think I wanted to write it out.
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