Back to Writing

This short piece pretty well sums up why I am no longer involved in political advocacy, activism, or campaigning. There are only so many times that one can stand being burned, and for me, health insurance non-reform was the final straw. If only it were an instantaneous nervous reaction like the pain impulse is, then we might learn after the very first time as we did when we were children.

The Trouble with Politics in America

An Exercise in Cynicism

You hear a knock on your door and answer it. Outside is a salesman dressed in red, bearing product brochures. "Good afternoon," he says. "I'm from the Republican Chocolate Company. Would you be interested in hearing about our new line of fine chocolate?"

"Sure," you say.

The salesman begins. He opens a brochure about the new chocolate. You cannot help but notice the product's remarkable similarity to the contents of your cat's litter box. The salesman, too, discusses the fine fecal odor of the new product, its indigestibility, its tendency to make you sick, and its bacterial content. You finally stop him and say, "Sir, it sounds to me like you are selling dung, not fine chocolate."

He turns the color of his suit and says, "What -- fine chocolate? That's un-American, that is."

"But you said you were selling it," you protest. "Just leave. I'm not interested." With a huff, the Republican salesman leaves.

In an hour, another knock sounds. You see a salesman in blue, also bearing brochures. "Good afternoon," he says. "I'm from the Democratic Chocolate Company."

"Let me see your brochure," you say. "A competitor has already visited, and he's selling poop."

You look at the brochure and see wafers, truffles, chocolate fountains, and more -- all fine Belgian chocolate. "This looks more promising," you say. He seizes the moment and starts talking about the product line that his company sells. You are so entranced that you order a box on the spot. Thanking you for your order, the Democratic salesman leaves.

Shortly, a box arrives on your doorstep from the Democratic Chocolate Company. You are taken aback by the horrid stink emanating from it. You stoop to open the box, and your worst suspicions are confirmed: Instead of bars of chocolate like the Europeans have, inside you see a festering pile of manure. You take the box with you to the company and demand a refund or replacement. However, the company representative refuses you. "We had to compromise and can't give you what we promised. But look! That pile is actually not 100% dung, you see; it's 1/3 chocolate. It really is better than the other company's product, and you're an ingrate who just doesn't understand how this has to be done. Now will you look at what we have on offer for our new line of green products?"

Then you throw the box in the man's face.