Oh my, I have gone long haven’t I? Of course, there is, oh, so much to talk about.
So what’s the answer?
What’s the answer? You’ve talked a lot about what’s wrong with Politics.
And you’re asking what’s right with it?
No. But what’s the right answer. We’ve discussed the wrong ideas, so what’s the right one?
And why are you asking me?
You’re the only other one here.
Touché. But what makes you think I know?
I think you know. You know the wrong answers because deep down you know what the right ones are. At some level, you know.
If I know, then why am I what I am?
You rejected it.
Oh, it’s more than that and less. I don’t care. That’s the thing. I don’t care. I don’t give a lick whether you know the right answers. I live for the fact that you have no idea what the right one is and are mired in so many bad ones. What? Did you think this was for your education?
What was it for then?
Ah, ah, that’s why again. You always want to bring the conversation back there, but you haven’t earned my reason yet.
Then what are we to make of politics?
Good question. In fact, I believe that was my question. What are you to make of it?
I don’t know. I’m not sure there’s anything we can make of it.
Perhaps. But what is certain is what it is making of you.
It divides us.
You do that already. Politics is just another means. Another dimension to categorize yourself. Republican, Democrat, Independent. Just more words and titles and little boxes to put people in. Another thing you want to tell you what you ought to do so you don’t have to decide for yourselves.
It breeds power struggles.
It is power struggles. That’s the bread of butter of politics. Another means for the big to control the small. For those who are in the know to dupe those who are ignorant.
It makes us hypocrites.
Yes. But, then again, what doesn’t have that potential?
It makes us into something we’re not. It ties us to something we shouldn’t be attached to. It makes us less than what we are called to be.
It is earthly. All its coloring is mundane. What could be more fleeting than politics?
Maybe the question isn’t: what do we make of it, but what do we do about it?
What, indeed? Live with it? It’s not going anywhere. Use it? It will tear you apart. Ignore it? Then how are you changing the world?
Maybe we don’t do any of that. Maybe it isn’t about using it as a means to an end, but making an end of it.
Are you being poetic?
A little. Maybe it’s not about harnessing it, like some wild animal that we can’t control. Maybe it’s about conquering it, like every other temptation we are faced with.
And how will you go about that?
I don’t know.
Then what hope is there?
I don’t know. But I believe there is one. I don’t the answer. But I believe one exists.
Bravo, my boy. You know, for a second, I thought I had you.