‘If I were a rich man, daidle daidle deedle daidle dumb’. If only. . .
I would immediately help mobilise volunteers in every city and town to stand as candidates to represent a new political party. I’ll call it The Citizen’s Forum (with apologies to The Citizen) and, with the assistance of experts in essential fields, draw up a practical and sustainable manifesto.
The candidates who volunteer would have to submit proper CVs spelling out their particular strengths and track record. See, no chancers in my party. With my oodles of boodle I’m enabled to open offices country-wide, operated by hand-picked men and women who wholeheartedly support the motive behind the reason for a new party.
OK, you ask, what is the reason for chancing the establishment of another party, given the history of other failing splinter groups? Very simple answer. To rid this country, once and for all, of a government that has brought this country to its knees; of leaders who have abused their powers for self-gain, and who have, almost to a man or woman, neglected to address the real needs of the nation-at-large; and who have allowed fiscal thieves, murderers, rapists, arsonists, robbers and plunderers to get away with it; and who persist in harbouring out-and-out crooks in their midst.
Are these reason not enough for the majority of good people to say enough is enough, and in one voice say we need an entirely new deal. Neither the Nats nor the ANC could do it. On the contrary, both parties made a total hash of it, leaving the nation on the whole out in the cold.
Let’s face it, the blame lies with us. We keep voting for these idiots, hoping that someday “things would come right”. We now know, having learnt the hard way, that while the status quo remains, things would worsen.
We need to look at alternatives. I have. A new party made up of law-abiding, competent people with a passion to get our country enjoying a happy and safe place in the sun. At the moment we have the sun, but little else to satisfy our collective needs.
Sadly, I remain a Zero Mostel, so, stuck in the proverbial hen house. But perhaps someone out there can translate whimsical lyrics into something of value – like saving our nation.