I am so sorry Mr. Gubernator Blagojevich

As I listen and watch with astonishment to reporters and everyone else’s incredulous gasps to Governor Blagojevich conduct, I, in dismay, ask what is wrong with this people? Why are they reacting so pathetically to one man’s idiocy? Why is his behavior such a shocker, so enthralling to digest that everyone is so dehydrated by it?

C’mon he did not do anything so extraordinary, so out of character did he? It is not like he robbed a bank then stood at the lobby, placed a call to the police and waited for their arrival or did he?

His behavior is not that absurd. I am just entertained by their shock. They are in such awe and acting like oh my God do you believe this guy kind of thing, as if they have never heard or seen that before.

One doesn’t need to get very far to experience the blaze of its tentacles. One just has to cross the border to see the begibes flying everywhere. It is like going to a doctor, being written a prescription for your cold and walking up to the pharmacy to see the medication over the counter.

The tasteless practices activities, the blood sucking shady appalling bribery demand for anything in return of services remunerated by politicians or anyone in power – embezzlement – occurs every single day and in a despicable fashion. This is not new, at least not to me or to any student of international affairs. It is just another day in the park.

The practice has been around in stitches, in remote corners of the world and it will always be in vogue. The menu has been consistent and served chilly. Perhaps, the choreography is new and not embraced by this audience but it has been performed with precision without a pout of humiliation, without a worry in the world. Mom and dad never had cash but mansions are popping and assets accumulating like dirty laundry.

Their deeds makes governor Blagojevich look like a saint. If the politician’s handshake dealings and relationships were wiretapped, the wires would blow up and beg for mercy.

The scenario currently being played in the news is seen as a scandal but in many countries, it is just a semicolon not a period, a fixture in a magazine. It rumbles the people, it makes noise, everyone gets anxious, thrilled that things are looking brighter, that finally the scumbags are heading to the dungeon and then what? Boom, done, bye bye, I see you later, zilch. Capiche? Just as the whole thing starts, it ends; just like that it dissipates in the air, erased with a sponge without a lament to the puppeteers – the voters who put them there, leaving a stain that no one dare to bleach out.

A revered and award wining Mozambican writer, the great Mia Couto (not known too many but well known across the ponds) wrote an article depicting politics in Africa and why Obama would never fit in, titled “What if Obama was African and candidate to an African country presidency?” The article was transplanted from a newspaper where it was first published and the email made its round to everyone and everyone’s – every soul I know – inbox; I personally received the very same email multiple times from different sources. Two points I found relevant to this discussion and I am hereby transplanting.

“1. If Obama was African, his opponent (one of the George Bush of Africa) would have altered the Constitution to extent his mandate beyond his term limit and our Obama would have to wait a few years before he could run again. The wait would take longer, however, if we take into account how long presidents stay in power in Africa. One for 41 years in Gabon, 39 in Libya, 28 in Zimbabwe, 28 in Equatorial Guinea, 28 in Angola, 27 in Egypt, 26 in Cameron and many others, all in all, a total of fifteen presidents governing for more than 20 consecutive years in the continent. Mugabe will be 90 years old by the time he finishes his mandate for which he forced upon the popular verdict.”

“6. If he had won the election, Obama would have to probably sit around the negotiating table and share the power with his opponent in a denigrating bargaining process that only demonstrates that, in certain African countries, the loser has the ability to negotiate what seems sacred – the will of the people – the votes.  By then, Barack Obama would be seated at a table with none other then Bush in an infinite round of negotiations overseen by African mediators who come to teach us that we should be pleased and accept the crumb electoral process that frequently do not seem to go in dictator’s favor.”

Silvio Berlusconi, Prime Minister of Italy jingled some bells and he is still alive.

Daniel Ortega President of Nicaragua, he did some deeds and came back to town.

Ferdinand Marcos of Philippines out did himself. “Whatever” rest his soul, if there was ever any.

Dr. François Duvalier, known as “Papa Doc” and his Bébé Doc Jean-Claude Duvalier of Haiti, no comment.

Public service is the most honorable thing a servant can exercise. The candidate gets elected to serve the people and nothing but the people – who put their trust on him – to be the getaway and agent of those whom he vowed to represent.

Once elected, he begins to build his castle in the sky with classy traditional courtship. He showers them with flowers, ginger and spice, like one of the three kings on his way to Bethlehem. He scathingly convinces his constituents and promises that he has their outmost interest and pledges that he will do anything and everything in his power to lead them throw. Yeah, tell that to mother goose! Once the duckling gets lose, somewhere, somewhere along the way, he deviates. He lands in the carousel of jingle, the petal of the gravel where the attitude, the culture, the practice of self-aggrandizing is the norm.

Just as he may or may not have intended to, Blagojevich falls into that category of politics for business venture. The truth is that the decree should be stamped on the ballot from the onset. The roles should be stapled beforehand. The dishware should be delineated prior to seating the guests.  We as voters should be made aware that once we get to the precinct, we would be voting for Mr. self grandiose pageant. We should be advised that the candidates would be applying for the self-titled position and the guy with the biggest ego would win. The man with the biggest aspiration of attaining any of the people’s resources, sell their nation’ timeshares and I dare say by any means necessary – no pun intended, getting richer and fat, would get the job. Make no mistake; we would still be voting for them regardless, as we would not be given any other chance, presented with any other option, other then face the scant of a lawless nation, if we did not vote.

People in some countries – no need to single any out but it is a customary juncture – are probably laughing their paints off or thinking that perhaps, perhaps, they could have their candy too if they were able to take part in the United States’ reaction to governor Blagojevich inanity.

Country’s assets should not be their wallets, refrigerators or safes. It should not be used as a voucher and exchanged for commission. It should not be used as give and take chess game neither traded as a meal ticket.

The fact of the matter is that egotism – coming and getting me outlook – has always been their strong suit; it is the sphere of the narcissistic club. They walk around with their faces looking like a bathroom that hasn’t been washed in months and touché! They do not agonize neither loose any sleep over the candies. Shame is not and will never be their strong suit or preferred word, neither is dignity or ethics. There is this popular saying in my heck of the woods which its meaning parallels the subject, I quote “if the food is good, you will eat it but if it is terrible, you throw it away”. I mean why eat rotten food if you run the risk of getting sick or dying of food poisoning?

I have faith (no, I am just fantasying) that citizens of the world will rise up, (Messiah is coming to town, say Amen!) and begin patrolling their politicians with high tech surveillance devices, radars, GPS, whatever available; break into the devilish surreptitious club secret society and make them pink. Yes, pink! I said it. Nothing like seeing a strong man dressed in pink.

It is against the law to bug private citizens in some countries but who cares; at least it would give the voters a peak into their locomotive. Lord I am so out of it!

We don’t have to be had all the time. The citizens of Illinois don’t have to be had all the time (but there is definitely something wrong with their water. Four governors in the pawn?).

There will always be one sour grape amongst the many, it is the nature of the beast.  However, one thing is sure; African leaders make governor Blagojevich look like a busboy. Latin American and Caribbean leaders make governor Blagojevich look like enchiladas and beef parties. Asia leaders make governor Blagojevich look like a sushi. European leaders make governor Blagojevich look like a baguette. Australians and Canadians, they get their ring too.  He does not stand a chance. He may get through the gate but may not make it all the way to the altar. C’mon, money for a high profile Senate seat? It ain’t yours to keep, so it ain’t yours to sell! Are you stupid or pretending? Ain’t there more recipes in your gourmet bad? I am sure you heard about telegram! Shuuu, they used code (ding, ding, ding… secret language) you know.

He sounded so amateurish that even the donkey looks witty. Although, the bad behavior is rewarded and tolerated in some nations, it is nonetheless punishable. Just as he hurled his hands into the basket, a plaited basket awaits him. I am so sorry Mr. gubernator, it is the price of democracy.

The Wedding March

IMG_5387Was set in motion by a few words I left on a joint bachelor/bachelorette party guest book. As I was inscribing the words, I reminisced about my own wedding, unconventional to some but ordinary to a few, to the “a deux” individuals who opt to elope into you may kiss the bride Vegas quickie weddings thus beginning the poem.

For your reason and yours alone, you decide on a quick and spontaneous celebration of your union to the more elaborated and orchestrated event – whatever suits you – to later move on to what was I thinking category?! You enjoy the romantic moment, precious or not you learn to guard it as yours but are never exhausted to recount it to those who are eager to hear about it.

The story becomes fascinating to the prying ears particularly when there are no witnesses to the event other then you and your mate, and the officiating individuals. These are choices to what could have been a perfect and choreographic wedding where the groom and bride would have walked down the isle to a ticketed parade of rice throwing and cheer spectators and oh ya!…to an exhausted bank account. Unconventional or not, whatever makes your fancy!

Now What?

Now that you are done
watching the primaries and the debates,
nominating your candidate and its posse,
attending a rally, the convention and invention,
chitchatting and pestering the candidates;

Now that you are done
listening to the talking points, demagogy, and the pundits,
political experts, cable news channels and talk radio,
browsing the Internet, reading one more political story, and
visiting one more blog;

Now what?

Now that you are done
being or sympathizing with the 18 million cracks in the ceiling,
one hundred fifty thousand dollars and J. Crew wardrobe,
700 billion bailout,
lipstick on a pig, pigstick, pukingstick,
moose burgers, fried burgers,
Sara who?,
Joe the plummer, Joe the blabber,
“The View” and review,
seeing Russia from Alaska,
patriotism and anti-American,
he is Arab that one, no madam,
yes we can,
who is he?;

Now that you are done
watching one more “I have the best plan” speech,
straight talk, country first,
health care reform and mortgage,
tax cuts and raising cuts,
promises and broken promises,
mavericky and change we can believe in,
fundamentally sound and spreading the wealth,
being erratic and palling around with terrorists,
economic plan and I voted with him 90% of the time,
socialism and dream,
hope;

Now that you are done
watching good adds, bad adds, despicable adds, youtube,
mumbling the words dangerous, infuriating, disgusting,
oh yah right on,
watching the SNL skits, the late night comedians,
listening to one more political song,
Rush Limbaugh, Wolf Blizter, Oprah Winfrey,
Bristol Palin,
Arnold Schwarzenegger, Keith Olbermann,
Jeremiah Wright,
Obama Girl and Megan McCain’s blog,
Huffingtonpost and Drudgereport,
Politico and Alaska Daily News,
si se puede,
ole!;

Now what?

Now that you are done
being swindled and amused by the trickery,
stock market and undecided voters,
unnerved and anxious,
flaunting your window and bumper stickers,
showcasing your lawn signs,
snubbing at your neighbors,
honking at the poll worker;

Now that you are done
clicking the mouse,
being a caterpillar, obsessed and a slave,
giving money (good church donation),
being giddy and silly,
exercising your right and choosing a President
Now that the world has watched….

Twenty months and many moons later, … hoof!
Now what?

Welcome to your pitiful pathetic life.
The movie has just begun and
Detox awaits you!