So the Chosen One is installed
safe and sound across the water,
while we are so desperate for our own
better-than-no-hoper that 'Call Me Dave'
might well do.
At least David has no blemish
on his character; inherited
means the most sure defence against a
temptation too much for most elected
humbuggers.
But the people will judge them
one fine election day; a time when
a cross can signal approval for once.
Let's gauge the wind direction by pissing
into it.
Comments
threeleafshamrock | May 24, 2009 - 15:51
Brilliant; last line is a killer. Sad thing is that poor old 'Call Me Dave' probably couldn't afford to be in the running...and anyway, any look-alike would all ready have had plastic surgery, long ago. Maybe if we made him a mask....
Chris ;)
NaziWifebeater | May 24, 2009 - 21:24
"Let's gauge the wind direction by pissing into it."
That one line perfectly, and superbly, sums up the futility of politics.
In fact, it could work on its own as a Japanese-style poem called simply 'Politics'. Brevity is the soul of wit.
Ewan | May 25, 2009 - 06:33
'Sad thing is that poor old 'Call Me Dave' probably couldn't afford to be in the running...'
Ah but he could, being married to an heiress.
NaziWifebeater | May 26, 2009 - 09:36
I can see why you didn't bother to respond to my comment. It was very aggressive, wasn't it? You must be really licking your wounds after such a blistering, scathing attack.
Ewan | May 26, 2009 - 16:32
Naw... didn´t respond 'cause I was speechless at my lack of blisters after reading one of your comments. :-)