Mating Rituals

Politics should be sexy.

The mating season is fast approaching in Serbia. Elaborate songs and traditional dances are beginning sporadically across the country. The air is filled with harvest urgings toward autumnal renewal: we gather the final flowers, we behold the changing leaves, we call for a new government!

Ah yes! We are beginning to sense the arrival of a renewed linguistic onslaught. We will be lullabied by promises of brighter days, mesmerized by displays of economic gymnastics. Suits are ironed, shoes shined, and tongues sharpened all in preparation for the season of elections.

Conventional wisdom would have it that the real elections are probably the stuff of next year’s headlines, but event these conventional Wise Guys know that the election season has already begun.

Politics and electioneering have their own language. It speaks of “new schools” instead of “higher taxes.” It speaks of “optimism,” instead of “third quarter slumps.” The language of Politics looks upward and outward, spoken and sung by shiny people with their feet firmly planted in mid-air.

And while the language of Government is expressed through regulation, legislation, decrees, and other such strictures which defend us against our own freedom and futilely attempt to keep total anarchy at bay, the language of Politics is meant to be seductive, to induce mating rituals, to cajole us into marking a specific name on a specific ballot on a specific date.

The same effect occurs in nature, although there are signal differences. The male peacock fans out its plumage, cats wax operatic (usually near your open bedroom window), and lizards will change their colors in order to attract a suitable partner. Politicians, on the other hand, perform miraculous transmutations and stretch communications to the outer limits of credulity in their quest toward seducing the voter. Moreover, and here is the sharp distinction from natural phenomena, the politician must not only attract ONE consort. The effort is useless unless he or she successfully draws in THOUSANDS of consenting adults.

While the turtle dove coos and chortles for its one true love and mate for life, the political animal bellows and snorts to attract entire towns, regions, and the lovelorn denizens of the whole country. Never mind if it’s for life, your political lover will settle for a couple of years.

I, for one, think we should have elections all the time. Never do people smile more; rarely do you see such infectious upbeat sloganing. It is a nation-wide love fest wherein if we do not end up feeling good about ourselves, at least we can commune with our fellow man in deriding the lusty actors in the game.

But, citizens of Serbia, beware of the Dark Side! All too easily can the language of elections turn from attraction (ME! ME! ME!) to jealous and bilious invective (THEM! THEM! THEM!). When our seducers have tried every trick in their books to lure us into their webs, they then turn upon each other and attack. They spread rumors of politically-transmitted diseases such as Taxitis, Viral Communism, Haguean Dystrophy, Economic Dysphasia, and Anti-European Dysphoric Syndrome (AEDS). These are rare and incurable political disorders, but when the chips are down, we will get to know them in detail.

But in the meantime, the election season is here and let’s enjoy it! Let’s be flattered and buoyed up by the language of Politics. Let’s turn a deaf ear to the nay-sayers and realists spouting the verbiage of Government. Although it may seem long, the season is over all too quickly. Before we know it, the actual election comes and, with it, the morning after. And only then do we wake up to see whose head we have chosen to rest upon the pillow next to us.

 “Oh my GOD!” we will say. “What have we DONE?”