They call it legacy, don't they?
If you get away with it and live the life you lead until you the day you die, then, unless you have supernatural beliefs, that's it isn't it? Your race is run. History records you in first place.
Do you think any billionaire businessman cares about the people he stepped on along the way as long as he keeps the mansions and the yachts through the hard times? I don't think so.
Do you think he cares about the people who hate him?
No. There's too much free-flowing champagne to worry about such things.
And integrity is such a tedious, painfully honest, horribly worthy pursuit. Surely we've assigned that to the dustbin of history, where boys went up chimneys, girls showed an ankle and Queensbury ruled.
Has integrity counted for anything since Harry Enfield's Loadsamoney in the 80s?
Or even since Jane Eyre.
There are entire nations totally unfamiliar with the concept. (Why not try and name a few?)
If it sells at all it does so in bargain basement snippets on reality television shows, before the contestants are thrown into the arena tour and eaten.
No, integrity is an entertainment that rich people sell for the masses. It's a quirk. A nonsense.
I chatted with Jimmy Savile on the QE2, but today he's a sex abuser. He is a Jonathan King. He's a Gary Glitter.
But he had the ear of royalty, and he lived life he wanted. At least that's what it appears.
We can't live life without trying to work out some measures of success. Some benchmark.
If death isn't that, what on earth is it?
Jimmy doesn't appear to have suffered too much for what seems to be his decision-making, and now, so late, the jury of ravens circle.
But if you don't get caught before death, surely you've won.
Even if you gassed millions in the Holocaust, you've still won the war.
Haven't you?
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