He prescribes the subject he proscribes outsiders his terms have a golden ring. He wants to find some order quantifying chaos in words that all the children sing. He tabulates the lexicon vocabulary minimised bow down to the Jargon King. All questions become so simple if we eat the inane answer if we all agree to ju-ju speak we fit into the formula we all without exception approve the rule. We don't understand he must be clever he must be clever he must be right he must be right we don't understand Closed the ranks and barricades imposed the secret language complexity all catch-phrased word-drugged any anguish pigeon-holed allusions shut the vault behind us It's an obvious conclusion we'll be the chattels of His Highness. Bow down to the Jargon King and his minion code-words. Here comes the reign