Writing about politics is like paying a visit to the dentist. Well actually this is not a totally fair analogy. Some good eventually comes out of painful but necessary dental work. I’d rather talk about women, those who wouldn’t consider this type of introductions chauvinistic in the least. I’d rather talk about food and wine as well. But alas, “les fous” are everywhere. Their pictures smiling down at us from suspended banners, blocking our view of the congested alleys, streets and avenues, on every corner, every wall, every lamp-post and soon enough, popping up from between our legs, causing us to stumble further into our misery. They are playing a game of musical chairs. Hundreds upon hundreds of them, each and every one assing a chair in our venerated parliament (assing a chair means that an ass is itching and eager to sit). I present you with our distinguished candidates for the People’s Assembly.
Politics is a dirty game even in vintage democracies. The system itself suffers from an inherited fallacy and promotes scoundrels and assholes. I’ll pick a country with a reputable history of democracy, umh, Sweden for instance. I can’t speak for the Swedes but it’s my understanding that their opinions about the majority of their politicians is in line of what I’m suggesting. The world’s parliaments, assemblies and congresses are mainly filled with rogues of little or no substantial intellectual capacity. They are after something for sure; however, I have my doubts that they are losing any sleep over the interests of their constituents.
Back to the local scene, what is it that makes these people tick? Do they really represent anyone but themselves? What about their supporters? What are these idiotic slogans?
What sonsofbitches came up with phrases like:
Together We Build Our Country
We Chose Him Because We Had Known Him
The Youth Candidate
Together We Fight Corruption
The Test is in the Choice
We Trust This Man
What about the titles that precede their names? Industrialist, Artist, Media Personality, Business Man, Ex-Football Player, Doctor, Lawyer, Engineer, Haj. Isn’t anybody a nobody anymore? They are all dressed in suits and look fat and comfortable. It’s no longer in vogue to be a simple farmer or worker to run for the parliamentary elections. The majority are “appointed’ parrots from the “Front” and most of the rest are a bunch of fat cats. What about me? Of the dozens of ugly faces polluting my vision, who ever asked me what I want or what I need? Who dare say, he or she represents me?
With no political, social or economic agendas, campaigning for votes has turned into a circus (with actual tents). Truckloads of provisions and monetary staples are distributed among the populace a couple of weeks before Election Day. Then voters are brought in busloads, free lunch included, to cast their votes. The winners are our “independent” representatives.
Fashro! I represent myself. And I love my country and defend it with my own life in spite of them. I am sure there are some who have willingly entered this diversion with honorable intentions all along. I am also certain that may be a very few might actually get in. For these exceptions I have all the respect in the world. They believe that they might be able to positively contribute to the welfare of society through this mutated democratic process. I salute their courage and their efforts. For the rest, buzz off and get back to sleep.