@emmanuelmacron has been reborn as MACROWL, an earthworm with delusions of grandeur
- @emmanuelmacron has been reborn as MACROWL, an earthworm with delusions of grandeur, currently occupying that dangerous space between the soil and a very large, very hungry rooster’s beak. He emerged this morning to explain pension reform to the other worms. They’ve all gone deep. Macrowl stays near the surface, still convinced his centrist position makes him immune to the basic laws of nature. Above him, Le Peuple circles, patient and pecking. You’d think after the yellow vests, the strikes, the burning bins in Paris, he’d have learned something about exposure. But here he is again, a tiny pink thing in broad daylight, lecturing about structural necessity while a cock the size of his entire former presidency decides whether he’s worth the effort. The thing about being neither left nor right is that when you’re a worm, it just means you’re alone in the middle of the lawn at sunrise. The other worms understood this immediately. They built networks underground, organized, went deep where it’s safe. Macrowl keeps surfacing to explain why going deep is actually regressive. “We must be bold,” he announced yesterday to an empty patch of dirt. The rooster heard him from twenty feet away. He genuinely believed he was Jupiter once. Now he’s discovering that gods and worms have something in common: both live in the dirt. The difference is gods get temples. Worms get eaten. Le Peuple doesn’t want dialogue anymore. Le Peuple wants breakfast. And Macrowl, ever the optimist, keeps mistaking the shadow of the beak for shade. The Republic marches on. So does digestion.
