Kennedy Gitau, Assignment 1: Vituperation Class: History of Rhetoric in the European Tradition Professor: Yumi Murayama January 26,

2012. Perhaps no one I find more loathsome than you, the silly excuse of a leader, Mr. Countyman. See you mosey around the neighborhood with your slimy, open-glaring baldhead, one would think between the two ears lays wisdom of age and an ever-expanding show of mutual tolerance and acceptance. But no! Inside your slobbery head lays a monolithic prick, who wouldnt stop at any chance of making sordid remarks to satisfy your surreptitious sense of class, at the expense of our unity. You represent a kind; a kind that the natural process of selection has struggled to extirpate through the eons of our existence: a misplaced psycho--an ill bred pig that even therapists drugs are too ashamed to cure. Who takes counsel from you? Who is the bedfellow to this Philistine? You are the sort I have come to expect nothing but garbage. You sit there in your office as if you were Grisham hard-thinking a sweet twist to your work. But no! You are an inexorable piece of work, busy blackballing the constituents to your petty, coke-addicts-laden committee that is always looking for an extra line of work to your boorish schedule. Who even hired you? Who was blind enough to recognize that you, serious tramp of a man befits the role of looking after the beautifully fledging relationships and the most anointed affairs of the county? Nobody! And hence I wonder why you would anoint yourself the high priest of the people, with your silly claim that you are doing it for everyones good. It would be a shame to our sense of self, should we allow a stain like you to continue blotting any kind of decision for our county.

Allowing lowlifes like you go on a rampage tour to bolster your sweltering ego wouldnt be less insulting than allowing a mad man poop on our doorstep, and on our watch. Climb down man! Come back to your senses finical rogue. Dont toss your finger in the fire lest you turn it barbecue for the dogs. I would want to stop, but I realize perhaps a few extra spoonfuls of vitriol would send your tumbling ass down the sewer. I wonder if it would be one thing to think that the glorious flow of nature would produce gracious man like Mozart and Einstein and still produce selfpitying misogynist like youa slur-pee-sucking geek devoid of sunlight; a pretentious fool who wants to wear bamboo socks so the world wont end. Realize that we had lived for decades cooperating, loving, honoring, and extending wands of friendship to each other before you divisive monster ever got a taste of what it means to be a socialite. So before you continue playing cute divide-and-rule fiddles, think twice!