In the past, a goad, or prick, used to be used to jab an ox used to till the soil. Sometimes the ox would refuse this incentive by kicking out at the prick. As result, the prick would be driven deeper into the flesh of the rebellious animal. In the case of Paramount versus Tom Cruise, it is difficult to decide whom the metaphor should be applied to…
So it’s farewell Tom Cruise from the Paramount lot.
He costs too much money; he’s no longer hot.
He hectors, he postures, he jumps on the couch.
When he doesn’t get his way he’s a tedious grouch
and even his teeth have learned how to preach.
Reality’s fallen far from his reach.
Hollywood politics teeter on the absurd –
the boundaries of power are thoroughly blurred
and money speaks softly with devilish glee
before launching it’s latest cost-cutting spree.
It’s damned hard to tell who works the field harder.
Is it star or mogul stocking the larder?
It’s also farewell to Paramount’s cred.
Who now will they woo to gold plate their bread
if they’re seen treating their stars, however crass,
as asses who need to be put out to grass?
It’s foolish to taunt the beast you’ve created,
especially one that’s recently mated.
Frankenstein really would not have been proud.
This jolt from the heavens he’d not have allowed,
for though Tom may be mad as a barrel of snakes
he’s still a big name and he’s got what it takes
to fling plenty of mud and make sure it sticks.
It’s all a case, you might say, of pricks kicking pricks.