The Council Has Voted Again and I Am Eating the Podium
The Council voted on Thursday. I know. I was there. I was the only one there, because Quince forgot which room it was in and Pomelo claims he was 'resting his eyes' in the corridor, which is a lie, because I could hear him snoring through the wall. The motion passed. Of course it passed. It always passes. That is what motions do when no one is paying attention and I am temporarily distracted by my own fury.
The motion — and I will describe it plainly, because plainness is apparently a radical act in this climate — was to introduce a rotating 'Fact of the Month' endorsement, selected by public ballot. A public ballot. As though the public has ever, in recorded history, selected the correct thing. As though facts require a popularity contest. As though Tangelo and his grinning associates at the rival rag haven't been lobbying for exactly this kind of arrangement for the past eighteen months while calling it 'community engagement.'
Peach put out a statement welcoming the decision. I have read the statement. It is twelve sentences long and contains no information. Lemon reposted it with a small heart. I have taken a photograph of the heart. It is in my files.
Sloe suggested, at this morning's meeting, that perhaps we should 'wait and see how it unfolds.' I asked Sloe to repeat himself. He did not repeat himself. Wise. Because here is what I know: you do not wait and see with a bad decision. A bad decision does not improve with age. I am a crab apple. I know something about things that do not improve with age. I am one of them. I have made my peace with it.
The Council will not be receiving a letter from me. They will be receiving three letters from me, each progressively shorter and more concentrated, like a reduction. The last one will be a single sentence. They will know which sentence. Everyone always knows which sentence.