GO has planted doubt on integrity of elections
NO REST: Today, mercifully a day of rest, is the lull before the electoral storm.
By law, all campaigning must have stopped by today — although by practice it actually does not. In fact, the final orders for the darkest of evil plots are generally given today. The Devil never rests.
The administration Team Unity boasts that its machinery will make mincemeat of the opposition, especially in the countryside where the latter had neglected to establish its presence.
But the Genuine Opposition insists that the only way it can lose the senatorial race (losing means getting fewer than six of the 12 seats at stake) is if it is cheated.
Although still foggy, my crystal ball showed yesterday a 6-5-1 score in the senatorial derby in favor of the TU.
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BACK TO ZERO: The administration has only itself and the Commission on Elections to blame when the opposition FAILS to capture at least six Senate slots but SUCCEEDS in making the public believe that massive cheating robbed it of two or three more seats.
With the help of commissioned table surveys and an oppositionist media, the Genuine Opposition has planted doubt in the public mind on the integrity of tomorrow’s elections.
The psychological basis has been laid – even before the votes are cast! – for the questioning of the poll results, a taking to the streets kapit-bisig with radical elements, and a fall-back to the old game of destabilization.
Then as the country teeters to anarchy and the Left moves to seize the situation, the military will spring to “perform” its duty under Section 3, Article II, of the Constitution as “…the protector of the people and the State….”
If you’ve been awake, you know what that means.
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POLL TALE: On the eve of Election Day, we retrieve this story from our Internet files to help explain what is going on. You probably have read it, but I’m sure you won’t mind a rerun:
A POWERFUL Senator dies. He knocks at the pearly gates of Heaven and is met by St. Peter.
“Welcome,” says St. Peter. “But if the gentleman would just wait for a while… there’s a little problem. You see, we seldom see a high official around these parts, so we’re not so sure what to do with you.”
“No problem, just let me in,” says the perfumed Senator dusting off his Italian suit while glancing at his diamond-studded wristwatch.
“Well, I’d like to, but I have orders from Higher Up. What we’ll do is have you spend one day in Hell and one in Heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.”
“Really, I’ve made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven,” grins the Senator.
“I’m sorry, but we have our rules.” And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and the perplexed Senator goes down, down, down to Hell.
* * *
THE MASSIVE door opens and the Senator finds himself in the middle of a verdant, sunlit golf course. In the distance is the clubhouse and gathered in front of it are all his friends, cronies and other politicians who had worked with him.
Everyone is in a festive mood and looking elegant in evening attire. They rush to greet him, hug him. They reminisce about the good times they’ve had while consolidating power and getting richer at the expense of the people. They play a friendly round of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar. The works.
Also present is the Devil, who really is a very friendly fellow who has a good time dancing and telling jokes.
They are having such a good time that, before the Senator realizes it, it is time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves as the elevator takes him up to Heaven.
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THE ELEVATOR goes up, up, up and the door reopens on Heaven. St. Peter greets him, “Now it’s time to visit Heaven.”
So another 24 hours pass with the Senator joining a group of contented souls drifting from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by.
St. Peter returns for him. “Well then, you’ve spent a day in Hell and another in Heaven. Now choose your eternity.”
The Senator reflects for a minute, then answers. “Well, I would never say it, I mean Heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in Hell.”
Without much ado, St. Peter escorts the Senator to the elevator and sends him down, down, down to Hell.
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THE DOORS of the elevator open and the Senator finds himself in the middle of barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags.
The Devil comes over to him and lays his heavy arm on his neck.
“I don’t understand,” stammers the Senator. “Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and club, and we ate lobster and caviar, and danced and had a great time. But now there is a wasteland of garbage and my friends look miserable.”
The Devil looks him in the eye, beams the familiar smile of a seasoned politician and hisses, “Yesterday we were CAMPAIGNING. Today you VOTED for us!”