Saving the world
Howard Phillips Follet, a Londoner set out to do good for his community; saw all the things around him broken and corrupted. The young man felt as though he, and he alone had the drive and moxie to one day bring change in his city and maybe even one day all over the world. Mr. Follet always felt he was different than his peers; he felt almost as if he was above them in his moral stature compared to those around him. He didn’t realize the scars and wrinkles of the elders around him were there for a reason. He simply felt as though they hadn’t tried hard enough.
This young lad decided one gloomy Friday night that enough is enough. I’ve got to do something. On that fateful Friday afternoon, he decided the best option for him is to pursue a career in politics and be the catalyst for change that those before him failed to or didn’t care to be.
Through his hard work and determination alone, he made his bones in the swamp he chose as his career. The endless school, and university campaigns, the elections, the debates, the shrewd maneuvering, the seemingly endless struggle had allowed his naïve feet to finally walk through the doors of politics. Like an ignorant bug in the mouth of a flytrap, he had unwittingly and unknowingly walked into the maw of a beast. Now a man in his 30’s he had a glimmer of hope in his eyes. The fire was reignited once more; he thought to himself “I can finally change the system; I can finally be the man I always wanted to be. I can finally help the ones who can’t help themselves.”
Five years into the game, he sliced through his colleagues like butter; becoming a prominent figure in politics. The name Howard Phillips Follet had become one of renown and respect. That name was now being talked about in the upper echelons of London society.
A man paid a visit to H.P one day. He was tall like a waterfall, skinny like a penny, and eyes like obsidian knives; the man certainly had a menacing look to him, but the way he spoke, it almost compelled a man to listen. The soft inviting nature of his voice made H.P forget the man almost looks like a spitting image of Nosferatu. The conversation between the two started cordially. Ten minutes into gabbing, H.P started wondering why is this man here? He got his answer soon enough. Mr. Nosferatu finally made his agenda clear. It was a simple favor; a greasing of the palms if you will. Some a large sum of money to be transferred into H. P’s account to look the other way for some menial construction job. Now H.P being the upstanding citizen he is denied the offer like rabid dog eating a mailman’s behind. The gentleman simply smiled. H. P could tell his reaction was expected. He knew he wasn’t exactly in control of the situation simply by observing the man’s demeanor towards him.
The man came in close to H. P’s ear whispered a horrible threat that made H. P’s eyes widen more than a field if the “favor” was not adhered to and then went on rambling about his sky-high connections as a subtle way of letting H. P know that the only way out of this was to exit the belly of the beast entirely. For a moment’s notice, he was about to, however, weakness overtook. He told himself I’ll be nothing if not a servant of the people. He accepted the deal, felt uneasy about what he had done and told himself “It had to be done. I can still help people if in my position”. Truth be told he was simply afraid of losing what he had spent so long to build.
He was now firmly inside the acidic stomach of the beast. He was part of the same system he wanted to change. His spirit had been corrupted. The cycle of a man coming into his office to “discuss a favor”, H. P accepting the offer, and lying to himself that I can still help people while I hold his position had become a sick addiction for him. He had become a master at lying to his own soul.