One of the most common reasons I've seen given for supporting #populists is “they speak their mind not bound by 'political correctness'”.
In practice this means “not caring if they hurt somebody's feelings – or downright lie, about a person or a huge group of them”.
Of course, these same folks cry persecution upon any and all disagreeing opinion, claiming their freedom of speech violated.
I've worked with kids and saw that pattern in some of the littlest ones. Not literally the freedom of speech line, but the general idea.
And, to put it frankly, I'd never want to see adults still in that “I'm the center of the universe and the only one that feels things” stage of development in position of power, but – sadly – too many are. Put to place by people enchanted by that “speaking their mind”...
So, unless you're willing to be governed by people who act like the littlest kids, demand adult behaviour in those you vote for.
Demandning true adult level of understanding with all the shades of gray & levels of not knowing enough to form a set, informed opinion would be much better, but seems a tad too much to ask in this day & age. I can hope, though.
Every now and then I get a feeling like I really need a few copies of me to get things done, with all the brain buzzing going on. Not to mention all the outside pressure that tends to always be around. The work I do in order to be able to afford to do art, the clubs I belong to and in which I seem failing to be just a member and whatnot.
What would really happen, though, is that all of the mes would be busily doing one thing, with all the other stuff still waiting to be done. Yeah #ActuallyAutistic special interests for the win.
But, when projects now in various stages of realization WOULD be finally finished by the mes, I'd go dancing with myself (oh-oh-o-oh). And to go with the dancing we'd do some boozing and get drunken ideas about a bit more intimate versions of dancing with myself. Oh boyoyos.
By the way – would only the original me be married, or all of us? If all, would it actually count as polygamy when there wouldn't be multiple persons, just copies of one person?
Anyway, how long would the one I/we are married to actually stick around with multiple mes running around? One me can be a bit much, I reckon…
But… to get things done, a few copies of me might be nice.
“I feel like people use me as a special tool. Forgotten in a box until my brain or skills are needed, used and put away again.” I said, checking my files for the requested piece of info.
Ty looked up at the screen, somewhat startled. “You said something? Sorry didn't hear, I was chatting with Mia.”
“I was just muttering to myself…”
“Yeah ok. Did you find it?”
“Yes, I'm sending it now.”
“Thanks! We got to go out for a coffee or something, I'll call you!”
Ty didn't wait for my answer before ending the call.
The dust hadn't yet settled, but hearing “Im one man failure rate!” said with a tone of being accompanied with a sheepish grin told me there were no casualties.
I assumed my usual role in situations like this and said: “I don't think the term works like that. You are thinking of 'disaster zone'...”
Kay groaned, theatrically: “SEE! Didn't get THAT right, either!”
“And you're not a man.”
She collapsed on the floor, laughing.“Ann, you're KILLING me!”
“Well, you're just a lovely little ball of paranoid psychosis.” she said while peering down at me with a studying eye. Her voice oozed false lightness, the tone reserved for the lesser-than. Babies, puppies, the elderly, the mentally… less.
My mind was burning. “You sick sadistic FUCK! With what right…”, but my body managed only a whimper and an involuntary twitch.
With the arrogance of power she read this to her liking. “Ball! Yes.”, she cooed. “No 'play ball' – YOU are the ball, yes you are!”