Changing The Guardians (Of The Public Purse)

They've been out stumping, the candidates
and their bushy-tailed supporters, zealously
anxious to sell the homeowner on the merits
of their esteemed choices; good enough for
them, should be for you, too. Soon as one
candidate leaves, his antagonist arrives to
negate if at all possible, any positive
impression the former may have left you
with, leaving instead a sour feeling at the
so-obvious attempt to manipulate, not
impress with a spirit of public service.

On this occasion it is municipal. We are
headed to the polls to (re-) elect the scoundrels
who infuriated us the past four years by their
slovenly care of the taxes they extract from
property owners in this fair city, the country's
national capital. That old adage of the ballot
box representing democracy's revenge sometimes
rings true, and we're prepared to throw the
conscienceless wastrels by the wayside, right
by the curb as it happens, for tomorrow's
neighbourhood waste day, right on schedule.

Some of us are, in any event; that too-scant
few dedicated to the principle of attaining the
representation we deserve. Of all such proceedings
this level of government, with its closest impact
on our quotidian lives, draws the scantest interest
and voter commitment. So, by default too often,
we obtain the results we feel we do not deserve,
yet in retrospect those are the results we deserve.

The prevarications, circumlocutions, evasions,
inanities and downright infuriating lack of
competent administrative skills, initiatives and
intentions to produce an atmosphere conducive
to representing the social contract reflecting our
shared values and imperatives frustrate and
confound the citizen-taxpayer. Good humour and
patience decline in direct proportion to obviously
diminishing quality of vital social and civic
services. We seem damned whichever way we
choose. A serviceable explanation for the pathetic
level of voter interest in the vaunted process.