[ WP ] You live in a world where the only way to be respected is to say as little as possible at all times

Lorne had spent years perfecting his speaking habits to come as far as he had. He would have expected more from the others who had risen as far in government as he had. Corruption was always abound in politics. He sat, listening to the lobbyist funded idiocracy occurring in front of him. 
 
 “ Change is imperative. ” 
 
 “ More social policy! Up taxes! ” 
 
 “ But rebellion! ” 
 
 Lorne tuned them all out. These subcommittee meetings rarely went differently. Three word sentences that barely managed to communicate half-baked concerns over political repercussions that few present could actually comprehend. Lorne would never argue that the paycheck wasn ’ t good, but the job was unfulfilling after all the time he had spent perfecting the art of brevity. Of course, it only made him more appreciated in politics, but politics was smoke and mirrors; the prepared speeches were exactly that, prepared. Other talent was always used to actually conceive the speeches given by politicians. That talent was paid handsomely, but not so handsomely as the puppets themselves. Lorne was well respected because he could write his own speeches. He could utter one well-crafted phrase at a caucus and be praised for his great addition to the debate. 
 
 Critics argue that the need for brevity rose out of the increasing prevalence of technology. Lorne agreed with them. Since the advent of social networking, people became ravenous for as much information as possible but were often unwilling to give lengthy pieces the attention they deserved. The public definition of lengthy grew shorter and shorter; high society, however, needed a gatekeeper for the masses. Those of no significance could speak freely in public and only receive a glare or two from an aristocratic passer-by, but one could not penetrate the upper class by way of a few terse phrases to important people; those who made such foolish attempts were vilified and jettisoned to the furthest stratosphere of respected society. Lorne had watched it happen to his own friend, someone he dare name no longer. 
 
 Ascension, however, required patience and poise. Lorne had both, but they had taken him to a class where the children of those with brevity rested on the haunches of other people ’ s skill. The people Lorne truly respected were the actors. They were an underappreciated bunch, particularly the improv players. Where politicians were blunt and boorish with weak vocabularies, actors had to be well versed in all literatures. They often operated entirely in metaphor to communicate with one another; if either had not been exposed to the allusion in question, it could spell disaster for both actors. Lorne recalled a great improv actor, Kyra Addison, who didn ’ t follow a reference to Hesiod. She had sputtered and halted before tripping into an allusion to Darl Bundren ’ s musings about existence while falling asleep on the roof of a shack. The whole troop was frozen by the non-sequitor and it took only hours for the story to get plastered to every channel of the internet. Addison had commit suicide before the next sunset, another victim of the unfeeling internet hate machine. The troop had stopped performances for a week, mourning and recovering after the death of a very talented actress. What Lorne found most upsetting the idea that most of those internet lurkers vilifying the actress probably had never heard of Hesiod, let alone read any of Hesiod ’ s works. But they were terse enough for people to bother reading them. 
 
 Lorne, however, had tired of the whole process. The most skilled were still able to communicate, as well as those who had accepted their low class position, but Lorne longed for the speeches he had read in now forgotten literature. Lorne ’ s soul had been squeezed further and further by his skyrocketing popularity, resenting that his frustrated silence only increased the reverence his peers and the public gave him. 
 Lorne had left the meeting having only said “ abstain, ” and “ seconded. ” Both were received with resounding applause. His assistant had scheduled him to give a speech after the subcommittee dispersed, but Lorne had decided it was time to make a change. After a moment at the podium, Lorne took a deep breath, which was met with applause. Then he began: 
 
 “ To be, or not to be, that is the question— 
 Whether ‘ tis Nobler in the Mind to suffer 
 The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune, 
 Or take Arms against a Sea of troubles, 
 And by opposing end them? To die, to sleep— 
 No more; and by sleep, to say we end 
 The Heart-Ache ” 
 
 Lorne saw hundreds of shocked eyes staring at him, utter confusion and silence resting in the room. Lorne pushed through the rest of the timeless speech, reveling in the words themselves and the lack of comprehension that was staring back at him. After he had finished the speech, he smiled and turned to his assistant. 
 
 “ Close your jaw, and when you have a moment, file for my resignation. ” 

