The democratic race track
There’s been a wee fact inhabiting the deep recesses of my mind, that’s a firefly. A light at a not ascertainable distance that flickers somewhat and seems to exist in thin air almost more imagined than experienced. It suddenly became clear what was not simply an esoteric intellectual connection but also an important one.
I’ve frequently declared that I love democracy. Well maybe "love" is too strong. That’s more a disingenuous "me thinks thou does protest too much" con style. But I definitely appreciate the concept of joint, majority decision making; of decision that truly benefits the greatest number of people, citizens, neighbours, and that probably also looks after those unable to look after themselves more completely and from a much more equal, much less judgmental stance than any other system.
But we have as undemocratic a system as a system can be and still be called democratic and it’s designed to benefit the few (1%) through very "democratic" process.
How is this possible?
How is it rationally possible that in the entire 20th century an increasing percentage of total wealth flowed upward increasing in percentage of total day after day after day, in a system that supposedly, mathematically, philosophically reflects the will of the majority. If that will is in favour of the obscenity that is the greed, avarice and psychopathology at the top being pandered to then the math just got turned on it’s head.
Look at it this way. Are you in favour of war? Not good war, bad war, our war, their war, religious war, territorial war. Just war. Ordinary garden variety no patriotic stake war. Just war. You know folks killing folks.
Hitler loved it. Harper loves it.
What about education. Does it matter to you that your kid’s tuition went into the stratosphere at the exact same moment as the multi-billionaire’s kids new jet went into the stratosphere.
This is a really goofy way to have a game of monopoly resolve folksingers .
Do you want to see your kids march off to war.
Are you in favour of war or would you like to live in a world that had no war. Because no matter how you answer that question nobody gives a crap. I don’t mean to be insulting, just honest, factual. You my friend are fodder and the only opinion that matters is the 1%. In fact 100% of the 1% including any criminally insane up there account for all the sway, all the skin in the game, every iota of push. They, not you, decide when and who your enemies are. And the decision is most largely based on the bottom line of the top 1%. It’s about their obscenely grotesque, in the face of such willful wanton destruction, and starvation, sumptuous life style.
Example: If you think that the top end is governed by the same set of laws concerning their kids peccadilloes as everyone else you’re living in fantasy. And how about the probability of yours compared to their kids being in a war zone.
In a nutshell. They produce the war and you produce the casualties. The fodder. I’ve never seen a study but it would be interesting to track the economics of war. Such as for every dollar spent by the national treasury how much flows to the 1%’s personal, presumably tax-free offshore accounts.
And as an aside here: Look at that last person in the world who should represent soldiers Julian Fantino doing his little two step on the graves, eviction notices and postponements of their lives of military vets. Democracy?
No. No. No. Democracy should be for the benefit of the many, of the electorate, of the hoi poloi even, but it very very seldom is. It should be a clue that it comes in a box that has the original label taped over and hand marked SHINOLA.
If we had a true democracy which is something almost unimaginable from the depths of our moribund illegal Westminster Parliamentary government which was purloined by a fascist miscreant, logic says that our involvement in wars would definitely take a leftward curve and diminish, the direction of profit flow would reverse and prisons would start to house people from much better neighbourhoods.
I started out with a very different point I wished to make about democracy. Why I somewhat math/scientifically believe in it.
Through the strangest of circumstances, for about five or six years while studying music I was involved in making my living at parimutuel investing. i.e. betting on thoroughbred horse races. It was a good income but became far too time consuming. You live it. I went back to things I could leave and come back to rather than wear all the time. But the one thing that stayed tantalizing in my mind was the profound and repeated examples of the eventual accuracy of the public. The same people that are the electorate, although CPC is trying to change that, are the people who bet on horses. The curious thing that impressed me is that year in and year out horses that are bet to 3:1 meaning 3 losses to 1 win, win a quarter of the time. In other words if we could run this exact race four times the 3:1 horse should win once. And it does.
Averaged over time it absolutely does. The public, punter and electorate is correct in it’s assessment of that race and a jockey, and/or trainer that uses a bat (electric battery) to shock a better performance or any of many drugs for the same purpose, is doing at and to the track, what Tom Flanagan and Stephen Harper found would succeed in the electoral arena. Let’s think of the battery as robocalls and the drugs as financial fraud.
Now let me tell you folks that in this scenario Elections Canada is represented by the track and by the sport. They, the track and the sport and society have nothing to gain and everything to lose from crooked races and crooked elections. The insanity of having a guy with a receipt for batteries sticking out of one pocket and a huge syringe sticking out of the other and a reputation and guilty plea for this kind of activity in the past, as the final arbitrator, is lunacy at it’s craziest.
"What do you think Nigel should I judge myself guilty?"
"Should I let them investigate and throw me in prison?"
Lions and tigers and bears and creepy criminal bastards in Ottawa Oh my.