Politicold

Politicold is a story based off the music and lyrics performed by the metal band Severed Fifth. Severed Fifth’s philosophy is to change the music world by providing their music under a Creative Commons license. Please take the time to see the site and download great music for free at: http://www.severedfifth.com Join the forum and help change the music world!

Colin’s eyes flew open at the first sharp tone of the alarm clock. Election Day. He slapped the alarm clock irritably and rolled over in a huff just as the automatic timer turned on the television and the coffee maker. He could hear the sounds of the weather report. Who cared about weather, there were other things to think about today!
It took Colin precisely forty-five minutes to shower, shave, and get dressed. He kept an ear on the television the entire time he ate breakfast as he scanned the newspaper. Why did all the stocks seem to drop just before election day? Election depression, he thought.
“Taxes are expected to rise by twelve percent in the next two years if Proposition seventy passes reports the New York Times…”
Disgusted, Colin threw his spoon and bowl into the sink, not bothering to finish the cereal. Taxes. He couldn’t count how many times he had attempted to find out exactly where the tax money went. “We used it to create new building codes”, said one official. “We do have to pay our inspectors”, said another. Colin made a face. The inspectors made ten percent over what anyone else in the whole engineering department made and they get a twenty percent raise? Building codes hadn’t been changed in almost thirty years. Sure there was a flirtation with changing the codes but then they would have had to deal with allowing new manufactured housing into the city limits. That would have cut their profits from the “city projects” they had built and got rent from.
Colin sat at his computer. Accountability …
“The Chicago Tribune today reports a watchdog group has an eye on Congressman Richard Pombo after learning he has utilized over 357,000 dollars in campaign funds to give to family members and spend on vacations…”
Ah yes, that had been an issue. How many more congressmen took $10,000 per night stays in high class hotels on the public dollar? Who was actually accountable?
“America MUST remain the worlds economic superpower…”
Because Americas economy was going so well wasn’t it, Colin thought. He had one late payment on his mortgage and trying to get refinancing from the bank to put a new roof on had gone sour very fast. They had offered him an enormous interest rate. If they didn’t think he could pay, why would they create a rate he definitely couldn’t pay? Were they trying to take advantage of him? Make him desperate and then rip the house out from under him when he couldn’t make the payment? Colin lifted his eyes back to the television where they were just reporting the amount of home loan defaults and bankruptcies in the county for the past year. How many of those loan defaults had been manipulated?
The news slipped into political mode, reporting party estimates for polling numbers, turn-out, and then slipping into advertisements. Colin sipped on his third cup of coffee. It all started with the advertisements, then caucuses, conventions, the primaries! God the primaries where only people of a particular party can vote for a nominee. In open primaries the parties raided each other trying to get the candidate they wanted to run against nominated. Then came the final vote. If you didn’t like who got through the primaries, too bad. There were all kinds of small parties, but only two parties that counted. Democrat and Republican. Colin was sick of the party crap.
“We’re Republicans. We should be better than them. I’m Dale Peterson…”
Reality check, we’re supposed to be one nation, Colin thought as he grabbed his keys and headed to the car. It was like Animal Farm! We’re all equal but obviously some of us are more equal than others.
“Every time I speak about my hope for America, the cynics in Washington roll their eyes. You see, they don’t believe we can actually change politics, and bring an end to decades of division and deadlock…”
There was no change, there never would be. Each election season since 1952 it was all the same; war, the woeful economy, and taxes. The line for the polling house was thin.
“Here is your punch card, pick any booth you like, and sign here please..”
Colin smiled at the woman running the polling house.
“I might be awhile”, he said.
“Oh take your time. Nobody’s going to rush you.” the woman smiled back.
Inside the booth Colin stared in dismay at the amount of candidates, propositions, bills, new taxes, and amendments. It was like a second job walking in here!
“Big ideas for serious problems, John McCain…”
“My change in party will allow me to be re-elected”
“Clearly you don’t understand modern politics!”
“Fifty years in Iraq…”
Colin’s hand hovered, the punch tool in his hand cutting a ridge into his thumb and forefinger. Who to trust? What to believe?
“A new group falsely accuses Republicans of voting against body armor for the troops. Both sides have misled the public about this issue”
“Unemployment at an all time low since the depression…”
“Bring troops … and complete the dang fence!”
“…a man who can make ours a government of the people once again.”
Colin sighed and put the punch tool down. I don’t understand, he thought. Why can’t people just TALK instead of talking without saying anything? When they do say something, it’s not worth hearing.
The politicians all worked so hard in turning the American people against each other. Republicans decrying Democrats, Democrats crying foul, Presidents sending campaign promises to the wind once elected. They needed a new system. This wasn’t working anymore. They needed a system that believed in everyone, that told every person that they belonged, that they mattered, and that their basic needs would not be taken away from them.
Colin removed the punch card from the slate and began to walk out, then stopped at the curtain. He pursed his lips and thought, then turned back and in the entry for “Write in candidate” he wrote:
Gumby