Fellow Citizens

You don't choose your neighbours and
assuredly the opposite is also true. If, by
chance you have been puzzled on occasion 
by the election signs the fellow down the 
street drives into his lawn with brazen audacity 
during an irritatingly prolonged period of 
marked political eruptions when federal 
politicians have been given the opportunity 
by chance to flaunt stupidity of a truly  
egregious nature and still anticipate that the 
broad spectrum of the electorate they feel 
ever so entitled to consider their supporters 
you might think of getting to know this
neighbour a little more intimately. Knock
on his door and casually query his choice.
Introduce yourself as a concerned person
anxious to determine his balance of mind
just in case, as a charitable gesture, he might
require help accessing the closest mental
hospital. Diplomatically, of course; choose
your words carefully, indicate preparedness
to discuss the fate of your country's near
future in good faith. Then stand back and
let it rip, and it will as your good neighbour
ventilates his contempt for your untenable
position through sheer ignorance. There see? 
You have been made privy to the poor man's 
state of mind and can now judge him a cretin. 
For his part, he can dine out quite handsomely 
on a practised parody while animatedly 
narrating his amazing encounter with a
certifiably politically illiterate provocateur.