Police Yourself

There's never a dull moment here in the lovely Kingdom of Northumbria; today I bumped into my old friend Feaxede the Fox, who appeared to be rather preoccupied about something. After the customary greetings that familiars usually exchange, I asked him what was happening, since I'd perceived that he was looking rather subdued.

He told me that he'd just come from the local polling station in Streonaeshalh. Now, since I'm a Cat who's usually well-versed in current affairs and the labyrinthine nature of human politics, I was particularly intrigued, since I hadn't been told that there was an election in progress. Had I missed something during one of my naps? Had Caedmeron in a split second turn of events decided to go to the Realm for a massive vote of no confidence? 

My questions were soon answered when Feaxede told me that today's vote was a Very Special Vote: it was a unique opportunity for the good citizens of this Anglo-Saxon Kingdom to cast their vote for their Chief over the local Costumed Thug Force. All three of the main political factions - Tree, Redistributionist and Liberationist - were represented by their respective candidates. There were also some hopefuls of a more independently-minded outlook who were also standing for the job. So I asked Feaxede what the post entailed, and he told me that the newly-elected Chief would oversee the activities of the Streonaeshalh Costumed Thug militia, and each morning would decide what kind of offences, crimes and misdemeanours they should try to tackle. 

I still couldn't get my feline head around this, so I asked him what the difference would be between the priorities of three main factions. Needless to say, everything fell into place when Feaxede told me that there wasn't a scrap of difference between their agendas; they would all zealously ensure that elderly ladies who allow their pet dogs to evacuate their colons on the streets would be severely punished, and anyone caught calling someone of a Nordic persuasion a "Vikey" or an "Edda Banger" would be hanged, drawn and quartered, since this constituted a loathsome hate crime. As for crimes of robbery, fraud and theft - these would be dealt with as and when the new Chief saw fit. Since these are misdemeanours which the politicos commit daily, they can't be seen to be too enthusiastic..

So then I asked Feaxede what was bothering him; he told me that he'd watched outside the polling station all day, and he hadn't seen a single person going in to cast their vote. This was a disappointing day for De-Mockery-cy. I suggested to him that perhaps the reason for the lack of attendance was down to the fact that nobody had any strong feelings or convictions on the matter, and that they'd decided to vote with their feet (or rather their backsides). Or perhaps it was because they simply hadn't been told about it - after all, I'd only just found out myself.

I told him not to worry - the right Chief will be selected and elected, even if nobody's voted for him; there's a handsome salary involved to the tune of several thousand Holy Groats each month, along with abundant opportunities for bungs and back-handers as he greases the wheels of the magic mushroom supply chain. I've seen it all before...