Dictator Diaries 3—Political Meeting

A true dictator would just seize power. Gather a group of followers, smuggle some bazookas into the Government Palace, or wherever the president of America lives, and spring ye ole coup d’état (yes, I used spell check for that). From what my exhaustive Wikipedia research has turned up, one almost needs a population of numskulls with guns who want to shoot each other. So I thought, perfect. I mean, I live in America.

But, I don’t really want a civil war. I can barely shoot—I’ve only fired a shotgun once. I missed. Besides, I wouldn’t want to compete with our already legit history in that regard. How can you compete with ol’ Jefferson and his attack at Little Bighorn?  In fact, if the Confederates had only won that first Vietnam War, the Sons of Liberty might even have remembered the Alamo. And then we wouldn’t have any taxes…or was it segregation? I can’t remember. And Eli Whitney. I know he invented the Cotton Gin, or possibly he drank cotton gin.

So, basically, I need a way to become dictator without causing a big civil war. So I thought, hey, why don’t I get the peeps to CHOOSE me as dictator. Now before you get all “no one would voluntarily subject themselves to the whims of a crazy person,” consider this: Keeping up with the Kardashians is watched every week by…a bunch of people.

Now if I am to gain power through the will of the unwashed masses, I must get myself elected. And this is where my good acquaintance with Keith comes in. Keith Mukowski is my government-wise friend. He knows all about how the Constitution was originally written by King James only Baptists, and how George Washington would be appalled to know the Supreme Court still exists.

I casually mentioned that I was thinking about getting into politics (I didn’t say why; people tend not to approve of my ultimate goal), and ol’ Keith invited me to a meeting. He called it an Elephant meeting or something. It stands for “Representative in Name Only.” So…come to think of it, it can’t be ELEPHANT. That would stand for…something else. Maybe it was GIRAFFE? Never mind, it’ll come to me. I am excited about this meeting. I’ll get in with all the government minded constituents, convince them I’m their man, get them to vote for me and BOOM. Dictator.

So I arrived at Keith’s house Thursday at 5:00, and he drove me to the meeting. Just listen this time, Keith told me as he drove. Learn as much as you can. Save the talking for the regulars who have been there a long time. Keith pulled into a Steve Denning’s  parking lot. Apparently it is required for HIPPO meetings to take place in dingy restaurants.  Not that Steve Denning’s is bad as dingy restaurants go, it’s just…okay, it’s bad.

Keith led me into the back, party or, “conference” room where about forty people aged 40 and up were gathered. They were all eating Steve Denning’s breakfast food—which to be fair is the only not bad thing they serve. Even thy can’t mess breakfast up too badly. Waitresses were bustling around filling boring white coffee mugs with lukewarm coffee. I saw one old gentleman look about slyly and dump about half a container of syrup in his cup. My admiration for the old man increased instantly.  I heard snatches of talk about senator Lake and something about fake Representatives.

Then a man stood up to speak. He said he was a lawyer and was presenting the merits of our case. Everyone around me nodded solemnly and said that was right, so I did the same. The man said that Senator Lake was a very oily man, as oily as a semi-truck full of oil. He claimed to support the party, but never supported true party causes like abolishing the tax system or dismantling the government. Senator Lake could no longer be relied upon, the lawyer said. To that end, the group was writing to the governor to ask him to remove Senator Lake from office.

I should add that I am not sure this is exactly what the lawyer said, I was distracted by a young girl who taking notes. She was some twenty years younger than everyone in the room (except for me and Keith of course), and wore a pair of jeans and a suit coat top. She wore her hair in a long pony tail—I mean an exceedingly long pony tail. I thought to myself, here is a classic case of a girl who studies too much. But when she looked up from her notes, I was surprised. The girl was extremely pretty (if you care for that sort of thing…which I do not).

And the everyone was talking at once. Something had happened to which I had not payed sufficient attention. I asked Keith what was going on. Evidently, the lawyer had opened the floor for suggestions on how to increase the influence of ordinary people. An older woman sporting American flag culottes said the lawyer should run against Senator Lake. The lawyer smiled humbly and shook his head and agreed he would be willing to.

But then an older man with dark glasses and a goatee stood up to say that local people never win against Senator Lake. Evidently, they keep putting “real principled” men up against him and he keeps blowing them away. The group needed to run someone rich and famous the man said, but who wasn’t a total jerk. The woman, annoyed that her idea had been refused, replied that such a person did not exist.

Then Keith stood up. He reminded everyone that each county is divided into precincts. Anyone who is a voting citizen of the county can attend their precinct meeting—which is usually almost empty—and have a say in county government. Slowly and surely, Keith said, if enough good people got into power we could affect real change. I asked if that was like change we can believe in. Everyone glared at me, and the woman told me to watch my mouth.

After the meeting, I told Keith I had been impressed with his speech. Did he know what voter government influence place I was in by any chance? Keith said that I was in Dryer Road Precinct, if that was what I meant. I said it was. That was a good one, Keith told me, and I could learn a lot from attending meetings there. Apparently Jackie—the girl who had taken notes during the meeting was a regular there.

I owe so much to that RINO meeting (I know, I know, it can’t be RINO). For now I know my evil scheme. I shall infiltrate the Dryer Road government influence place. I shall involve myself in everyday government. And then, slowly but ever so surely I will work my way up to the top. The secret climb. The ascent of the dictator.


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