Out Of The Shadows

At last - the quest is over! After weeks of fruitless searching for the seemingly extinct Liberationist species of quasi-human politico, I'm gratified to announce that - contrary to my previous belief that they'd all been wiped out by the ubiquitous Stupid Disease – Liberationists have recently been sighted in the Beastleigh district of the South Saxons.

 

This exciting development came to light this morning when it was announced simultaneously by the beloved Northumbrian soothsayers Beeby See, Guardy-Ann, Dellimell and the Windy Pedant that the winning contender for the seat that previously had been held by the disgraced and now oubliette-dwelling Hune the Horehound was a previously undiscovered Liberationist. Hooray! Life is full of surprises, children. How exciting!

 

But a little bird told me (before I unsuccessfully attempted to stalk him) that the townspeople of that particular settlement have a peculiar and inexplicable predisposition to support the Liberationist cause; any person, animal or biscuit sporting the bilious Liberationist colours in that place is guaranteed to be voted a seat in the House Of Folly. It's also come to my notice that the contender for the Beastleigh seat was of a simian persuasion. Loyalty – like love – is hopelessly blind.

 

As for the result – every participating faction has predictably claimed an astonishing victory. The Tree Faction contender was the proud holder of the fourth place in the final result; having lost his deposit of three acres of prime smallholding and a herd of sheep, he was consoled by Dagwald Caedmeron – the Beloved Bey of the Tree Faction – that their result was a ringing endorsement for the Tree/Liberationist Alliance Administration. This unctuous outpouring of self-congratulation was founded on a misunderstanding, since the Trees and Liberationists were in bitter contention for the coveted seat.

 

Liberationists who'd suddenly and inexplicably emerged from the mists of oblivion, extinction and obscurity naturally claimed a momentous victory for their champion, who victoriously screeched, jumped up and down, chewed bananas and flung free samples of his colonic offerings at the adoring crowd. Hip, hip, hooray!

 

The Redistributionists – under the inspired leadership of their own Chief Primate Edweird the Milliner – claimed an astonishing victory for themselves, as the result had been a ringing indictment of the accursed Tree Faction. The ways in which humans seek consolation are many, varied and extremely bizarre.

 

Without doubt the most significant success was for the Northumbrian Independence Faction, whose second place came from those Beastleigh citizens who are mildly disappointed, disillusioned, sick and tired of the loving stranglehold and constant interference of the Holy Roman Empire (which is neither holy, Roman nor an empire) and its lickspittle lackeys.

 

Overall, everyone is happy. But this Cat has come to realize that most people are easily pleased. For at least fifteen nanoseconds, at any rate..