Although there is still no date on the next General Election, politicians and wannabe Dáil members are already knocking on doors begging for votes, craw thumping and promising to deliver the sun, moon and stars for a bewildered electorate.
A majority of those genuflecting and curtsying as they crawl up backsides in search of the gold nuggets they call votes would bring puke from an empty stomach.
Pledges of a better life for us all; less crippling taxes and positive futures for the very young, for our pensioners, men, women and children who battle serious illnesses are about as genuine as four Euro notes.
How often have we heard the infamous words over the years from those successful at election time?: ‘A great day for the party (ie political party’.
Not a mention of the electorate most of whom might not cross their minds for years, if ever, as they add up their lucrative salaries and do the maths for generous expenses.
That vote collectors knock on doors at all is perhaps a reminder to us all of their brass necks as they search for comfortable seats in Leinster House, indeed any chairs that for most seeking election mean more money for successful candidates and the power that turns on lights on their twisted egos.
They stoop to kissing babies, bullshitting grannies and promising a house to every son and daughter and their families in every nook and cranny of the four corners of Kilkenny.
Mostly the general public see through their verbal diarrhea and the conundrum is that so many still go out and vote for so many of the gold diggers.
Reality is that we are the masters of our own destiny but yet we have a tendency towards hara-kiri.
We wilt when we need to be strong in bidding to select people who just might consider supporting us instead of feathering their own nests.
Will we ever learn has to be the killer question. For whatever reason, we tend to bottle it in the ballot box.
We deride politicians of all political parties. We call them all sorts of vulgar names; then we put out arms around some, give them No. 1 or whatever, perhaps against our best judgment.
Perhaps a collective kick in the backside might waken us up, teach us to stand up for ourselves and put manners on those who, election after election take us for fools and cod us to the white of our eyes.
Politicians take us for granted; care less what we think of them and continue to play Russian Roulette with our lives while they fill their pockets, purses and wallets and walk away giggling as they sneer at our innocence.
