We Promise an Electrifying Campaign!

If you are say to anyone, “Who was your favourite ancient Greek philosopher born in the 4th century BC and who was belong to the Cynic school and who live in a barrel,” seven times out of ten they will answer you “Diogenes of Sinope.” Because he is. Everyone is know about and love Diogenes, who was called a Cynic because he believed that human beings are no better than dogs, and who therefore was a proto-typical fascist. The word “Cynic,” incidentally, is come from the Greek word for “dog,” which finds its roots in the original Spanish word “Canarias,” meaning “canary,” named after the bird which the ancient Spanish used to hunt dogs. There was some confusion at the time, when the ancient Greeks didn’t realize which one we were pointing at.

Diogenes was well known not so much for his theories as for putting them into practice, such as living in a barrel, masturbating in public, and living on a diet of onions, all of which are things that dogs do. Most famously, on once occasion, Diogenes was walked around Athens in the middle of the day holding a lit candle. When people was ask him what he was doing, he reply, “I am looking for an honest man.” This is clever, because it is imply that daylight on its own is not enough for him to find one. Legend has it that when Alexander the Great was meet Diogenes and his candle and ask him if there was anything he could do for him, Diogenes’ reply was, “Yes. You can get out of my light.” For which he was killed. On another occasion, when Plato had made the pompous declaration to a crowd that “Man is a featherless biped,” Diogenes turned up later with a plucked chicken, which he then throw in front of the crowd and say, “There is Plato’s man.” Everyone had a big laugh. Diogenes was actually more of a Sarcastic than a Cynic.

Anyway, I am mention Diogenes because of the story that when the Athenians was preparing for their elections, Diogenes used to get out of the barrel and roll it all around the city just so he could “look busy as well.” Nobody liked him. However, it again is time for us to “roll out the barrel,” because the pointless politicians of lovely holy pissing Ireland have begun their pointless election campaigns to decide who will implement the policies of their Illuminati/Masonic/Jewish masters. Earlier this week was appearing the first priministerial debate on Ireland’s porn channel, TV3, in which the priminister in waiting, End O’Kenny of the Fine Gaels, didn’t not appear. He had something more important to do in Leitrim. Such as hide. Instead, the debate was between the two runners-up, Martin Michael of the Fianna fail and Eamon Gilmore of the Labour Pastry. Overall the general view afterward was that everybody was a winner. Martin Michael was a winner just by being there, because his presence was lending credibility to the idea that Fianna fail is a party that may legitimately be considered as the prospective government instead of a bunch of criminals and traitors who should be making their argument in the dock, not on television. Eamon Gilmore was a winner because he is not Biff O’Cowen or End O’Kenny, even though everyone would have preferred to see his Fat Rabbit. And End O’Kenny was a winner by NOT being there. The only loser was the Irish public, because TV3 had originally announce that if End O’Kenny did not turn up, they would replace him with an empty chair. But they did not. It was a lie. But also, it was a disappointment, because a lot of people would have like to have hear what the empty chair had to offer.

I made the point to my neighbour Herr Mengele yesterday morning over Bran Flakes and brandy and cigars, that a very good case could be made for the Irish people to elect an empty chair rather than any of the partys in thrall to the Dark Alien Forces. Herr Mengele was agree with me hole-heartedly, but then he was come up with an even better idea. “Rather than just any old chair, Señor Estímulo, we should encourage the Irish people to vote for an electric chair.” I was at first bemused, in spite of my natural prejudice in favour of capital punishment and my desire to see it implemented everywhere. But Herr Mengele elaborated: “Not only would it be a snub for the Eurocrats and Jews,” he said, warming to his argument, “But we can make a perfectly plausible and economic case for its use as well. What is more, I know just the place where we can get one. It is fortunate for us that the American judicial system is so soft and weak-kneed liberal. These days they only ever do humane executions. Where’s the fun in that? Come, let us draw up a manifesto.”

And so we was spend all of yesterday morning fine-tuning our policies, using a calculator and a colouring-in book, like the Greens do. I am not personally having a particular head for business, but Herr Mengele is still rapier-sharp in his head. “First, we will execute the paedophiles,” he said. “Not priests, though,” I interjected, “who were tempted by Satan.” “Then we will execute the drug dealers.” Again, only illegal drugs will be included, such as marijuana, smack, and crunk, not legal drugs such as Bran Flakes, brandy, and cigars. “Then, of course the Travellers.” By which he mean not people going to their second home in Kinsale or rich foreingers bringing in money to the country, but gypsies and anyone generally scruffy. “And last but not least, strikers,” by which he was mean Aer Lingus cabin staff, nurses, and so on, not Robbie Keane, who isn’t much of a striker these days anyway.

“Most importantly,” said Herr Mengele, “are these two points. One, we show the executions on the paper view channel. And two, all of the patients, er, I mean prisoners, will be executed naked.”

At first, I was not sure about this. I am not the sort of man who is interested in looking at a naked man, even if he is being killed. “But Señor Estímulo, consider how much pleasure you will get as a diminutive hairy ugly old Spanish man with a tiny penis seeing a tall handsome oiled blond 20-year-old with an enormous wang meet his maker as an undignified writhing contorted mass of shit, piss, and dripping fat. We Germans have a word, you know, which is called schadenfreude. I do not know what it is called in Spanish. But trust me, you will not be alone in wanted to see such a show. Besides, we can always get in PR and marketing people like that Terri Prone to advise us on who we should be executing to maximize our returns. You’d be surprised at the things people will watch. Ryan Tubridy, for instance. Besides, if they are naked we can post the videos on the Internet. That’s where all the real money is being made these days.”

We have therefore calculated that if we charge €100 per execution and begin with 100 executions a year, with a population of 4 million people in Ireland, that will bring in roughly €40 billion in the first year alone, more than enough to pay off the Gnomes of Zurich, Bankers of Brussels, and Merchants of Venice. Then we will take our product to the next level. Advertisers will be knocking down our door for a piece of the action, I think. Not the Gas Bord, obviously, but undoubtedly companies like George Foreman, Marlboro, Braun, McDonald’s. And then we will broaden out into celebrity executions. Under the Taliban, the half-time entertainment at the Afghan Cup Final used to be provided by one of the popular local boy bands, who would be reunited for a final time in front of a huge crowd by being hanged from the crossbar. I have no doubt that we could do something similar in Ireland with Westlife or Jedward. Also, we could have a phone-in vote for viewers to decide which member of the band will be killed. I shall call it the Execution Factor!

You know, I am amaze really that Rupert Murdoch has not yet trademark this idea. But then, when did he ever have the interests of the public in mind? He is happy just to force-feed them shallow, hedonistic garbage, not the kind of edifying, motivating and spiritually rewarding programming we are talking about here. Sometimes I wonder if he is even a Catholic at all!

So I am asking all of my Irish friends to spread the word. Myself and Herr Mengele have become very aroused at this conception, and now I think we can arouse the hole Irish people by getting them to fill in their box with CHAIR. There is no better alternative in this election, and in the long run they will thank us. Go home, therefore, back to your cottages, huts, and hovels, with this powerful, uncompromising message:

ELECT FOR ELECTROCUTION

YOU ARE KNOW IT MAKES SENSE

VOTE CHAIR!!