"I'd been arranged, scholars, by Barnum "Bam" Slokum, who face was unreadable: a pre-smiling king who pandered peace to the weak to keep them from bringing any manner of damage tat might get them stronger to keep them from breaching his peace: Barnum "Bam" Slokum, who claimed we were similar, and then convinced me - if only for a minute, still a minute too long - that I was actually glad about that.
They rule by their presence, these king-types, I thought. They dissolve, with their immediacy, all of your emnity. The Law, like the rest, like everything else, gets blotted out white by their glowing charm. You want when they're near, to follow their rules, to please them, be like them: you want to be like them in order to please them. That's how you get arranged. It's how you go robot.
I don't know what it was that got me more explosive; that I'd failed to be exceptional when faced with such charm, or that I didn't possess that charm myself." p704
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