On Power (essay)

2024 Author: Seth Attwood | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-16 15:55

Ololosh woke up from the annoying ray of the sun shining directly into his face. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and pulled his hands out from under the covers. It was completely useless to roll over on the other side - the dream had already slipped away, although there was still a pleasant after-sleep relaxation in the body. Glancing at the calendar on the wall not far from the bed, he suddenly remembered that today was election day. He was reminded of this by a red circle around the number.

“Well, I’ll have to crawl to the next yard, to school,” thought Ololosh with annoyance, “to fulfill my civic duty… I’ll look through the internet only first.”

Ololosh crawled out from under the blanket entirely and, without dressing, went along the usual route: toilet, bathroom, kitchen, computer. On the computer, he first of all opened the blog "Clean in the Woods" and got a portion of the pleasure of realizing that he was involved in solving social problems, having enjoyed another article exposing the stupidity of information consumers who do nothing to make the world a better place, although they think that that just reading educational content that exposes the stupidity of other people is enough. Being a bodily-intellectual hedonist, Ololosh decided to additionally indulge himself in a bath with warm water and spices. Taking his tablet PC, he went to the bathroom and continued reading there.

Closer to lunchtime, when many degradation-cognitive affairs were completed, Ololosh nevertheless decided to reluctantly get out of the house to carry out his DUTY. However, his strength left him immediately at the thought that he needed to get dressed. He fell from the chair to the floor and crawled courageously towards the locker room, drenched in sweat. Tearing blood to his hands, he put on trousers, a jacket, sneakers, somehow, erasing his fingers, opened the lock and opened the door. With a crash, he rolled down the stairs, smashing his head, elbows, and knees. At some point, Ololosh even thought that he needed to “score” on the elections and return, and with joy jumped to his feet, quickly ran back up the stairs, lustfully aware of himself lying on the couch in front of the TV. But the feeling of DUTY made him fall again and slide down to the first floor again. Crawling along the street, he saw several poor fellows like him crawling towards the school, where the polling station was located. Moans from overcoming incredible obstacles came from all directions. Uniting in a single impulse, they crawled in one direction with a feeling of patriotism in order to fulfill their mission of governing the state.

When Ololosh, exhausted and damp with sweat, crawled to the school gym, in which there were booths, he, overcoming the pain, took out a ballpoint pen. With difficulty bringing it to the box with the candidate of interest to him, Ololosh put the line … for more he did not have enough strength. It began to darken in my eyes, my heart was pounding furiously, my breathing was rapid, but I still had to drag the ballot paper to the ballot box. To take this last step, Ololosh first lay down on his back and caught his breath. Half an hour later, he gathered his last strength, gritted his teeth and dragged the ballot: somewhere by dragging, and somewhere by canting, he nevertheless approached the urn … clenching his fists with the cherished paper, he raised it with both hands … raised it over the hole in the urn and, already unable to hold on, he unclenched his almost numb fingers. She crept into the crack with a rustle, and Ololosh, with delight and jumping for joy, ran back home, jumping over those who were still crawling towards the hall to fulfill their civil DUTY.

The next morning Ololosh woke up and looked out of the window. What did he see? The people elected by him to power do all the work. The president himself brought the janitors from his subordinates to his courtyard, they clean the street, then a garbage truck drove up and collected all the rubbish, a whole crowd of window and molar cleaners ennobled the walls of the house in his yard, and a team of road workers repaired all the roads. A team of plumbers completed the renovation of Ololosh's bathroom. For the next four years, the elected president personally called Ololosh and asked if everything was fine with him and if anything else was needed. Having fulfilled his civic duty at the cost of incredible efforts and suffering, hardship and inconvenience, risking loss of health and strain from the severity of labor for the good of his homeland, Ololosh received an equal contribution and quality feedback from his chosen government. How much benefit he brought for the development of his beloved country, he received so much back from it.

So, by conciliar labor, when, united in a single patriotic desire to make the world a better place, the citizens of the country, sacrificing their comfort, exercise their power in full accordance with the rules of democracy, the country is transforming and continues to delight its inhabitants.

Afterword by the author

Dear idlers, you really bothered me with your complaints that the state owes you something. You get exactly what you deserve: how much you give and get back. If your entire managerial function comes down to ticking a box in the candidate field, then you have the right to rely only on the fact that some official will also tick a box somewhere for you. But nothing more. If it seems to you that you are doing something useful beyond what has been said, then think: is it really useful. Feedback from the outside world is ALWAYS an unmistakable answer to this and similar questions.