The
body politic: combustible creature of dualisms, bilateral beast raging over
beliefs. Good old Augustus, a nice Roman gentleman, head of the body, bestowed
August. An Augustus was the embodiment of stable empire. Romulus Augustus was the
last (September 4th 476), his nickname Romulus Augustulus translated
as we might say Little Hitler. It’s a far cry from far Kew, where
postmodernists repeat their parents’ mistakes. Body politic takes strange local
forms: Budgie Smuggler, Mincing Poodle, Philistine Bookcase. Is the body
politic any more than a nice German lady resident in London, eyeing September 9th
2015 with a certain Roman disbelief?
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