The story should have been named “Scoundrels” considering their garish behavior. A man died in sorrow and with out friends. I do not believe that he was a pimp, but more of a man who wanted to please his “high face” friends and found it a delight that they would take the time to interact with him.

I do not believe that Ward committed suicide to avoid prison, however, the fact that Ward had been so easily betrayed and tossed asunder as if bothersome lint. How often does this occur through shades of our own lives at one time or another?

In any case, at the end of the day, who are we to judge or high brow the actions of another, particularly that Ward’s voice was silenced by the police, by the denials of his so called “friends”, by the one whom he seemed to fancy the most, “Christine Backstabber Keeler”, who now of course hungers to unearth a man who died in vain by the mere shame and for the tastless and school yard manners of rejection of his “friends”. Child’s Play.

We ought to be concerned over who rules the roost. And good coming that the arrogant conservative society was brought where it belonged. After all, Ward had really done London a favor in the scheme of things, perhaps not willful, but in retrospect, fitting for the last word of it all.

Like the song, “Nothing Has Been Proved”. Yet Keeler never fails to rejuvenate the part she has so destined to play, to live off the income of a man who had taken his own life to once again rape him in death of his voice, to be the “older version” of a late, stale party girl who shuns maturity. And the hits just keep coming.

Moral of the story: ” The rich and the wasted helpings of youth and beauty are truly beneath us all, unless perhaps, if there truly is a silver lining called character to replace the silver spoon of degradation and pompous vanity.

Like the Peacock, beauty& wealth may afford a life of comfort no doubtedly off the soul of another, but then, what is the point of a peacock? What is its purpose?”