Archives mensuelles : février 2016

Dear Mister Sanders,

I’m not English, I’m not French and I’m not Dutch, potverdekke ! I am a Belgian. This means I won’t be allowed to cast my vote come November, which, however unfair – shouldn’t all the Empire’s subjects be allowed to elect the next emperor ? –, is bad news for you.

Indeed, if you’ve been reading my blog – a little chaotic lately, I must admit, but neither more nor less than your hairstyle on windy days –, you know you have my political sympathy : following in FDR’s footsteps, you are demonstrating every day you are enough of a communist to make America great again.

If democracy means anything, your rival and you are now in a tie : 51 delegates for the right wing, 51 for Revolution. Taking into account the numerous irregularities that have tarnished the three initial caucuses, you even have the upper hand.

Yet, today, an article in the Flemish press announced Super Tuesday would sign your demise. Not because your adversary would emerge triumphant from the duel, but because even with a slight victory, the army of dull apparatchiks and bureaucrats (also known as ‘superdelegates’) she’s been buying off or making promises to would make it very hard for you to catch in on her on your way to the quota required for the nomination.

Pardon my bluntness : what some first considered a private joke, and others deemed imperative to at least give the party cattle the impression primaries mean something in an allegedly open society, to give them the feeling Margaret, the new would-be Little Mother of The Peoples, bound to be defeated again and again by any serious challenger, hadn’t been promised the Washington throne already, is turning out to be a sour pill to swallow for the powers that be, and intend to remain, all of which are now realizing they made a huge mistake.

As you’ve noticed, archconservatives are getting their machine guns out, and airing their first agitprop ads against you. And, although they’re not yet wondering whether they should leave the country for fear of being caught in the red net of the Venezuelan tanks that would unmistakably invade Union Square should Vermont conquer DC, some Wall aristocrats are beginning to feel a chill at the bottom of their necks : who would have thought you’d rally such an impressive fan club ?…

Yours is no longer a token candidacy; it has become the real deal. This fan club is now relying on you to hold on and, as naïve as it may sound, hoping the US will turn into a democracy again. You must not, you cannot, let them down : hope can only be abused in the long run…

So, next week or in a few weeks time, when you will be reminded of the pact you signed with the devil (She wears Prada, you know… They all do…), namely swallowing the ‘superdelegate’ clause to benefit from the party infrastructure, and bow down to Her Ladyship when you hear the whistle, when you will weigh up the value of the word you gave the People against the value of your word to the machines, please remember you’ve got so little left to lose politically, whereas the People trusting you would (once again) be lost without the hologram you’re projecting.

Independent… Doesn’t that word sound good ?…

Best regards,

Salud !

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