The Politics Of Cathcart Zen
"Politics," declaimed Cathcart Zen from the battlements, "is the art of doing it to them before they do it to you."
"Please come down," pleaded Annabel, the staff nurse, as young Standish went to fetch the electrified net. She'd made the mistake of telling Zen that her father, coming to pick her up today for a weekend away, was a politician. "God's udders, I'll be ready for the arse-eater!" Zen had yelled, and scuttled up to the house's battlements to set up the harpoon guns he'd replaced the decorative cannons with.
"He's just a local councilman," Annabel protested, as Zen extracted a tiny jungle frog from a steel flask and rubbed it vigorously over a harpoon's barb.
"Doesn't matter," said Cathcart Zen. "They're all the same. No-one stands for election because they want to make the lives of strangers better. They're all fucking Nixon -- they just hide it better. Did you ever eat a Nixonburger?"
"Good. They were disgusting. You know who paid for The Nixonburger Company? Howard Hughes. You know why? Because he wanted control of Richard Nixon. Why? Because Nixon understood that political power was only ever about screwing the other guy before he found a way to screw you. Voting is about nothing but installing the guy who's more likely to screw the people you hate before they elect the guy who's more likely to screw you. The whole point of a two-party system is to polarise entire countries into behaving like football fans. Dulls the thinking. Crushes original thinking. Anti-evolution. Creates herd mentalities. Not me."
"You don't vote?"
"This is my vote," said Cathcart Zen, jamming the tiny frog on the end of the harpoon. "Bring Daddy up here. I have a baby for him to kiss."
Again, (C) Warren Ellis 2005