Kapital City, awash with rampant politicians who seem to care only for
power and control, for getting their way. Who fuck the voter until it’s
time to bribe them again with sweet platitudes and golden promises
(made to be broken) that will translate into votes, keep the whole game
Pierre Poilievre, Conservative Member of Parliament and point man for gov’t spin. Ottawa, 2012
I’ve always been amazed that so many people fall for it, just like they fall
for god or anything else that makes them feel good or, at least, hopeful.
But I suppose that’s the Human Condition. Without hope how could we
get by? What would be the point?
And I realize that I’m writing this thru my white-first-world-male filter.
I do think, from time to time how my charmed life compares to those in
Darfur, Haiti, Syria and so on. And when I do, I feel small for moaning.
But moan I do. Not always, but today, yes.
Of course, the best thing to do would be to work thru it, to find a way to
agitate to provoke change. Problem is, the system and the personalities
who are driven to occupy that system (almost always the wrong people)
are merely a reflection of us. And how do you change “us”?
I’ve long held that there are two kinds of power. If a leader is on a podium
speaking to a thousand people, and if that leader says “jump” and the crowd
jumps.. . .then the leader has power. But if you are in that crowd and the leader
says “jump” but you don’t jump. . . .then you have power.
It’s that local, personal power I try to exert in my life. I try to remember
that you don’t always have to do what “they” say.
Staircase, Ottawa, 2012