Although the ransom Priam offers Clinton for the return of Hector’s remains included ten bars of yellow gold, a special gold cup, and several cauldrons, Killary is in no need of any of that.

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Lawyers for British political prisoner Julian Assange are set to make their final appeal against his extradition to the United States in late February. In an ideal world, he would never have been imprisoned but would have instead garnered many more awards in excess to those he has already received, trinkets for his children to play with as he dispensed words of wisdom to younger generations of starry-eyed idealists, who would hope to emulate him.

Penelope, his wife, meanwhile, would have gotten on with her humdrum life as a wife, as a mother, and as a hot shot human rights’ lawyer in her own right. I call Stella Moris, Julian’s wife, Penelope as that was the name of the wife of Odysseus, who waited faithfully for a staggering twenty years for him to return from the Siege of Troy.

And even though Odysseus famously had to put up with all kinds of travails as he battled his way back to her, Penelope was not spared the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune as she had to contend with all kinds of lesser beings trying to fill Odysseus’ sandals for their own base reasons.

And, though there are those echoes of the Odyssey in the Assanges’ plight, the Iliad seems a much better framework to gauge this epic battle between all that is good and that which is evil. If, for example, Assange is Hector, defending the honour of Troy, then Achilles personifies America, determined to destroy Assange, like Hector before him, in mind, and desecrate him in body as well. Either way, Assange’s has been a titanic struggle the gods themselves would have paid good money to watch.

That said, in our dystopian Dorian Gray take, Hillary Clinton must, of course, be the beautiful Helen of Troy, over whom Virgil, Homer and Yeats, to say nothing of the Greek gods themselves, all waxed. And the pig headed and pot bellied Mike Pompeo is, of course, her faithful understudy.

Let me explain. Even though Pompeo, who owes his exalted position to the Koch brothers and some other colourful American billionaires, has called for Assange’s assassination, that is one of his less outrageously violent demands. Although Pompeo calls Assange “a fraud—a coward hiding behind a screen”, Assange has no Internet access in Stalag Belmarsh and it is a strange sort of coward, who rankles Empire and pays the price for it in the manner Assange did, just as it is for Pompeo, who never fired a shot in anger in his life, to shoot off his well fed mouth in this manner. And, as Pompeo believes Edward Snowden “should be brought back from Russia and given due process”, before being put to death, we can see that Pompeo does not have the best interests of dissidents like Assange or Snowden at heart. He will never play Santa in his local shopping mall except, perhaps, in a Halloween horror special.

And nor, despite the better angels of her nature, will Hillary Clinton, who is more morally rudderless than Lady Macbeth and whose own impressive rap sheet is much too long to go into detail here. Suffice to say that Hillary Clinton did not make her billions by working for Wikileaks or doing pro bono cases for the likes of Julian Assange but she has invested her time wisely, networking through morally dubious magic money and power trees like the Clinton Foundation.

Assange’s problem resembles not so much a legal one as the one Schindler faced in tricking Amon Göth to exert power by pardoning his surviving victims he had already driven to distraction. Assange has exposed Hillary Clinton, faux feminism’s Helen of Troy, as being Dorian Gray brought back to life and, as Hillary’s goons cannot have their bargain basement goddess maligned, they want their pound of flesh and more from the Assanges’ hides.

Though that is the long and the short of it, this is not to downplay the serious charges the CIA have levelled against Assange or the tenacious fight Jen Robinson and Assange’s entire legal team are waging on his behalf but it is to reiterate the gravest of reservations that I, along with most of the civilised world, have in the American judicial and extra judicial system based, as it is, on concepts of manifest destiny, apartheid, exceptionalism and expedient assassinations.

Although Assange could be exchanged with Russia for American master spy Paul Whelan and his four passports, because he would have to join a long line of NATO prisoners, that is not feasible. Far better to look for help elsewhere, to depend on the kindness of strangers nearer to home. And though Stella/Penelope has dropped in on the Pope and though a range of worthies, including Pamela Anderson, Bianca Jagger, Lady Gaga, Tucker Carlson and Roger Waters have bravely rallied to his cause, Pompeo and Clinton seem to be like the Pharaohs of old, who have hardened their hearts and have, in effect, told the Pope and those other worthies to go fuck themselves and that, like Achilles before them, they will have their revenge against Julian/Hector in this world even if they are not brave to take him on one to one.

But to expect a fair fight in or out of court with these folk is more childish than believing in fairies at the bottom of the garden or that St Jude, the patron saint of hopeless cases, will suddenly intercede. Not to malign St Jude but there are few others in a position to be game changers and Moses, who made the Pharaohs an offer they couldn’t refuse, has been on a very extended sabbatical.

Although Assange’s legal team will continue to do all they can do, real moral pressure must be put on Pompeo, Clinton and their crews, an easy thing to state in theory but hard to effect in practice as our entire intellectual and moral base, as evidenced by these lists here and here of our brightest contemporary sparks, has been hollowed out to encompass little more than chick litt writers and OnlyFans influencers and the working class have been driven out of all positions of political leadership. St Jude apart, the only ones we can appeal to are knock off Medusas like Hillary Clinton and Samantha Power, folk like Nuland (CIA’s Ukraine and Fuck the EU desk), Sullivan and Blinken (Middle East and goofy deer in the headlights look desk), all Hillary Clinton protégés and all cut from the same messianic death cult mould.

And, as these creatures cleanse Joe Rogan, Russell Brand, Russia Today and our own pipsqueak site from the public square, we must wonder if this Greek tragedy will end as Hector’s curtain call did at Troy.

Hector’s Last Stand

Alas! the gods have lured me on to my destruction. … death is now indeed exceedingly near at hand and there is no way out of it – for so Zeus and his son Apollo the far-darter have willed it, though heretofore they have been ever ready to protect me. My doom has come upon me; let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter. — Spoken by Hector Assange facing Killary Clinton, after a missed spear-throw; Iliad, Book XXII, lines 299–305.

Perhaps, as to the Spartans, the Assanges should send an envoy, say renowned human rights’ champion Prof. Nils Melzer with the same sort of message Zeus imparted to Troy’s belligerents prior to Priam importing Achilles to return the mutilated remains of Hector, his son, to him.

Although the ransom Priam offers Clinton for the return of Hector’s remains included ten bars of yellow gold, a special gold cup, and several cauldrons, Killary is in no need of any of that. Like Faust before her, all she needs is that her god will protect her good name before they meet with Bill down below in an eternal threesome, whose grotesqueness will clear hell itself of all its demons.

All of that is in Hillary’s future. For now, and without prejudicing this very prejudiced case, if Killary can find it in her heart (whatever) to have her own little Amon The Good Göth moment and “pardon” Assange, then Oliver Stone and others working on crafting their Assange-related projects, will have to change their tunes and leave these wars over the length of Helen’s nose and the depths of Hillary’s narcissism behind them and move on to better, more Elysian things than this second rate soap opera of one persecuted man and the American incubi and succubi who would devour him and his.