And the Oscar Goes to …

They fail at the very moment you’d swear 

 They’d know what their profession was about.

Instead of the skills they are lauded for 

 Their drivelling hysteria breaks out.

Or else the dim pomposity of those

 For whom nothing can ever be enough,

Who expect yet another round of praise

 For mouthing-off some adolescent guff.

If the mystery of this could be told

 We’d be well on our way to explore

The whole character of the modern world, 

 Of a glamour so feckless at the core.

But until then an older wisdom speaks

 In parables of how it came to pass

No overload of money, fame or looks

 Can stop you from being a horse’s arse.

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