Welcome to Parlor, said the spider to the fly.
Ignore that I'm a Mercer and data mining's how I spy.
It's very very nice having a cult that I can aim.
Step into the Parlor, and give up all your shame.
You know that you are better than everyone but you,
So lets all start to hate and make a violent stew.
Ignore my Russian contacts, even Koch has lots of those.
Come into the Parlor and don't bother to count your toes.
You know liberals want to take away your gun.
So wave them in their faces and shoot to make them run.
You only need them to protect yourself from evil men.
So let me tell you who to hate so you can load again.
Don't wear a mask that's treason.
Ignore all science and all reason.
And when people are all lined up and it's clear that they will die,
come in to Parlor said the spider to the fly.
The Spider and the Fly is a poem by Mary Howitt (1799–1888) and I suspect it applies quite well. The Mercer's Russian connections and the history of Cambridge Analytica leads me to suspect that Parlour is a trap with more than one layer.
I. "Will you walk into my parlour?" said a spider to a fly; " 'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy. The way into my parlour is up a winding stair, And I have many pretty things to shew when you are there." "Oh no, no!" said the little fly, "to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."
II. "I'm sure you must be weary, with soaring up so high, Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the spider to the fly. "There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin; And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in." "Oh no, no!" said the little fly, "for I've often heard it said, They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"
III. Said the cunning spider to the fly, "Dear friend, what shall I do, To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you? I have, within my pantry, good store of all that's nice; I'm sure you're very welcome—will you please to take a slice?" "Oh no, no!" said the little fly, "kind sir, that cannot be," I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see."
IV. "Sweet creature!" said the spider, "you're witty and you're wise. How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes! I have a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf, If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself." "I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say, And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day."
V. The spider turned him round about, and went into his den, For well he knew, the silly fly would soon come back again: So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner, sly, And set his table ready, to dine upon the fly. Then he went out to his door again, and merrily did sing, "Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing; Your robes are green and purple---there's a crest upon your head; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead."
VI. Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by; With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew, Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue:— Thinking only of her crested head, poor foolish thing!—At last Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast.
VII. He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den, Within his little parlour—but she ne'er came out again! —And now, dear little children, who may this story read, To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed: Unto an evil counsellor, close heart, and ear, and eye, And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.
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