"I think that the Games are decided in a manner that is not quite arbitrary, but is, nevertheless, ultimately meaningless." There was a dogma to the statement and it came not without a certain desperate assertiveness. He had a logical basis for the argument, there was no doubt of that in his mind, with every reification of the Capitol, it was eroding away. The erosion left him with little more than a bitter arrogance, a moral conceit carefully and jealously guarded.

"At best, they are an argument for the right of the strongest and one which is unsatisfactory at that. In the first tradition of the Games, to think that one child adequately or accurately represents a population is to propagate a fallacy. In our modern practical situation, we are not even of this world. Our success or failure has no bearing on the biological or evidential validity of any one group in Panem." His words were clear and crisp as he spoke, unrehearsed, but certainly considered. "And, if they were a contest of strength, I certainly would not have won as I am not very strong at all. The same could be said for Mademoiselle Ryugasaki, or, indeed, a fair number of the other Victors. Thus, I am forced to see them as a petty subjugation, a culling of undesirables, or perhaps ritualized intimidation and massacre. Hardly arbitrary, but certainly without any sort of moral fulfillment."