The Three Little Thuggees; a small "d" democratic farce-in-progress

            Once upon today there were three little Thuggees.

            One little Thuggee was called Rotten Ra, due to his egotistic belief that he rose in the east like the Sun god of ancient Egypt.

            The second little Thuggee was called Pious Paul due to the Vincentian values he pedantically ordained his students to follow.

            As for the third little Thuggee, he was called Bobblehead McNoddy given he always nodded in agreement with his pals Rotten and Pious.

            Powerful as they were in the City by the lake, the three little Thuggees wanted more.

            "What if we built the biggest, bestest sandbox for all of our rich friends to play their ball games in," sneered Rotten thinking about all those public TIF monies just sitting there.

            "And we could build the biggest, bestest, baddest sandbox to play ball games for my private gang"  cried Pious excitedly, thinking about how popular he’d be with his donors despite the hypocrisy of using public education monies earmarked for the less fortunate.

            "And we could build the biggest, bestest, baddest sandbox with other people's money, without an independent study just by proclaiming it economic development," mumbled McNoddy as he nodded his head in agreement with them and himself.

            So it came to pass that the three rapscallion Thuggees announced the construction of the fanciest, schmanziest sandbox; one that their rich investment bankster and political gamester friends had long longed for.

            With the anointed blessing of the powers that be in that mythological seat of democracy called Springfield, the sandbox was made whole as law.

            "But what about the little people of the neighborhood?" cried a few lone voices from within the community. The local and national media responded in amazement that a city with so little means to educate its people would waste taxpayer money to build a private school yet another publicly funded sandbox? Even the private school’s community cried foul!

           McNoddy mumbled something.

          “What did you say?” asked Rotten Ra.

          “He said, call it an arena,” repeated Pious Paul. “It’s all about the branding of the project.”

           As for the question of input by the little people of the community, the Thuggees just snorted and howled. Who gives a toot about them? As McNoddy told a group of locals, “We knew you were against it, so why would we bother to meet with you?”

          As the Queen of Mean of NYC once said, only little people pay taxes. As for the politically-connected, it is their privilege use those taxes and the little people can just lump it.   After all, isn’t that the point of being connected? So let the little people huff and puff, they’ll never blow the powers-that-be’s unilateral decision down.

        Wiki said it all, “A dictatorship is defined as an autocratic or authoritarian form of government in which a government is ruled by either an individual or an authoritarian party, as in an oligarchy.”

 

 

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    Candace Drimmer

    I was an accidental expatriate; love and marriage led me to it. One day I was a bandy-legged kid sitting atop my dogwood tree looking out of my small backyard world in 1950s New Jersey, wanting to move somewhere--anywhere, different. Next thing I knew my father had accepted a job in Houston TX. I was ecstatic, it was a foreign land in 1961 America. After high school graduation, my parents’ gave me a matched set of fawn-colored hardsided American Tourister luggage. Taking the hint, I went to college; well four colleges in five years--it was the 60s after all. Meeting a young hirsute anti-war, soon-to-be-Peace Corps volunteer, I fell in love. After finishing up college coursework for my degree, but before I even walking a graduation stage, I grabbed the paper airline ticket my boyfriend had sent me, my brand-new passport, and was off to the airport and Lima, Peru.

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