Jack, Ivor's "grand" points don't amount to a hill of beans. First he defends the murderous, whore-beating sociopath Inkyo Volt, then he denounces a whore's right to gripe about her work as if she were some feudal serf. Hell, the guy's got the Duke of Wellington as his avatar, one of the most reactionary figures in Western Civilization. I'll bet he yearns to return to the days of Dickensian sweatshops.

Tell me, Jack: When you do your weekly bitching about your job, do you direct it towards your boss? You know, the guy who pays you? Of course not. But wouldn't it be great if there were a way you and your co-workers could let the man know what's on your mind, without fear of reprisals?

'Nuff said.