Jerry Jones has fired six head coaches.
He has somehow held on to his job as Cowboys' General Manager.
He has taken people's homes by force, bulldozed the houses, and used the space to put up a temple to himself.
This puts me into a poetic mood. Here's some Percy Bysshe Shelley.
I met a traveller from an antique land Who said:
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert…. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair ! !
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."