Upon the glorious completion of our last five-year-plan, I am proud to represent that our selfless serving of the people has led to a flowering of industry and population and charity and love and serenity and harmony and strength and pride and perfection, as we have grabbed the mantle of our destiny to become the premier brotherhood of the world.
Is it not self-evident that none of this would have occurred with the bold vision of our last five-year-plan!
And so I urge us to continue our brave leadership and vote to ratify the presented new five-year-plan, that just as surely will lead to a reflowering of industry and population and charity and love and serenity and harmony and strength and pride and perfection, as we maintain and further our mantle as the premier brotherhood of the world, through increasing our production of wheat from three hundred million bushels per annum to three hundred thirty four million bushels per annum.
No wants to be an average man. Instead we desire to avoid pain. But A life without struggle is a partial life, A grotesque half-man, A walking corpse that does not know it.
No wants to be an average man. We conspicuously covet above-average, while We covertly lament the below, Missing the entire time The glorious wholeness of the mean.
No one wants to be an average man. Which is strange, For we yearn for the unattainable and Average is so unattainable. No man has an average amount of
Love, and pain, and joy, and grief, and Flowers, and cockroaches, and lullabies and screams, and Accolades, and roastings, and pillories, and parades, and Children, and pets, and honey-soaked dates, and barren harvests, and Sunsets, and sunrises, and rain-soaked meanderings and sun-drenched naps.
So here’s to the average man, An ideal no one idolizes, A perfection unattained, The mountaintop we all climb But can never summit.