Monday, 30 April 2012

Uncle Gnarley Addresses Annual Meeting ‘Royal Order of Old Farts’.

My Friends:

Finally, I get to address one of the most maligned groups in our Province. 
My mission, is to correct the erroneous impression that you are causing the unpleasant aroma that has become so pervasive, recently.  It is an impression with which you have been saddled, both in the media, and with certain groups.  The truth, my friends, is right under our noses.

My comments speak to the need for government to take responsibility for this unpleasant aroma.  Government should seek the necessary medication, and swallow it, hard.  It just won’t do to blame the very people on whom the aromas have the greatest negative effects. 

I speak to you at a fortuitous time for it has become evident that the people, themselves, keenly acknowledge that an odor is pervading the land; happily, they also are increasingly awareness of its source.

This realization usually follows an election, when people have a tendency to second guess themselves.  It is a perfectly normal reaction; voter remorse is an all too common fact of democratic life.

I have determined, based upon the best science available, that the odor not only has a tendency to linger; it has distinct political content.    

While its content is political, I have also been able to confirm that its colour contains the spectrum of an ‘arrogant’ hue; its texture is consistent with a brand of hubris closely associated with ‘disassociation from common sense’.

Indeed, you will learn, this evening, my friends, that the problem has a name, a diagnosis and a prescription, much in the same way as does a disease of the human corpus.

My analysis shows that the disease manifests as ‘rot’ and is characterized by maladaptive hearing of the essential opinions of the ordinary man and woman; a progressive failure of 'empathy' is a common by-product of the disease.

Amputation of the entire head of government is typically the only known cure.  That treatment comes with a high degree of certainty.  In the end, we are assured that the greater body politic will be saved.

At times, my friends, a government can be rescued from this seemingly terminal malady; but I regret to say, measurable improvements are rare.  Typically, this poor prognosis is based upon evidence of extreme sensitivity and reduced hearing, especially when it involves citizens who have a tendency to critizise. 

Unfortunately, for maladies of this variety, both the doctor and the patient suffer terribly; much pain for both could be spared if a resort to political shock treatment were tried.  This therapeutic approach seldom works, though it is always attempted, as a last resort.

The demands of the treatment are high.  At a minimum, courage, on the part of the political leadership, is required (call it a ‘faint hope’ clause); unfortunately, when it is available, even in the barest of quantities, the active ingredient, ‘recognition of the prospect  of imminent political destruction’, is lacking.  Hence, an infusion of realty checks from the electorate, combined with the ‘threat of time in the political wilderness’, must be kept on standby should the patient succumb to the effects of we call ‘latent’ stupidity and require, as a consequence, political defibrillation. Abandonment of the caucus from the leadership is the surest sign that the disease is at a terminal stage.   

But Ladies and Gentlemen, let us never resort to fear or doubt.  We have named the disease, though it does challenge ordinary speak: it is called, “Dunderheadedness Complex”.  Dreaded as it sounds, I have the assurance of history, that, when people are confronted by a hopeless political challenge, a general election is a cure-all for everyone concerned.

So my friends, the absence of hope is not absolute. For us, and especially for all you, “Old Farts”, sometime soon, perhaps a few years, the air will clear.