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Commentary - Jun 17, 2008 - Printable Version
- Do the Can-Can
by Robin Buckallew
At first, it was just like any other presidential election. The Alpha and Omega parties began campaigning early, and the buzz was on. For the first time ever, there was going to be an Antarean candidate, and this marked a watershed moment! The Antareans had been kept in slavery on Alpha Two for many years, and had fought hard to win their freedom. Even after winning freedom from slavery, however, things hadn’t been very easy for them. The ruling Gorks on Alpha Two had managed to write laws that successfully prevented them from accomplishing much in the universal economy for two millennia, and they still had difficulty getting taken seriously as members of the intellectual class or the political class. Now, however, the Antarean candidate was standing strong and proud at the podium with all the other candidates who were opting to run for Alpha Minister.
In addition, it was the first time there had been a Sister Sirian running. Although Sirians had frequently held the highest office, never had any Sister (Sirian or otherwise) been considered as anything other than a token candidate. Sisters were usually regarded as unfit for most responsible positions, because when they eliminated waste, they had to sit down. Sitting down during waste elimination was a clear sign of inferiority of rational thought, and a general flightiness of nature, so sisters had been ruled out by most of the power players for about as long as the Antareans. They, too, had fought and argued and worked until they were now working in just about every part of the universal economy. Overall, they had made a lot of valuable contributions to science, art, and literature, but the position of Alpha Minister had been considered off limits to them, in spite of the fact that sisters had been heads of state in many other systems.
The voters were excited and energized as they debated the possible outcomes of the election. Imagine, an Antarean and a Sister on the ballot! Besides, the people were tired of the long, corrupt rule of the Alpha party, which had taken over at two cycles ago in a suspiciously close and disputed election. For the past two cycles, there had been nothing but war and economic disaster. The war with Lyra threatened to drag on forever. Although Lyrans were seen as a relatively primitive people, they didn’t give up easily following invasion, and it looked like they were on the verge of holding the Alpha Centauri forces to a standoff, in spite of the fact that they were outgunned in every way. It was embarrassing, expensive, and tiresome. The Alpha Centaurians were totally fed up, and wanted to be done with it, and with the Alpha party. Remember, they asked themselves, how good it was when the Omega party was last in power? Remember how it was one long party? We had so much more freedom, we had so much more economic security, and we weren’t always scared that some barbaric Lyran was going to come over here and run amok. We want Omega back! was the rallying cry, and the race was on.
Alpha party narrowed down their field of candidates quickly, selecting the candidate they deemed to have the most experience. He was going to have to be a smooth talker, a good looker, and a snappy dresser to soothe the ruffled feathers of the angry mob out to throw the bums out. Omega party looked like a sure winner, and the leaders of the Alphas were worried. Omega still had three candidates left when the last Alpha challenger bowed out, but soon, it was down to only the two – the Antarean and the Sister Sirian. Polls had showed that the mood had changed on Alpha Centauri, and that large majorities of the voters would consider voting for Antareans, and that equally large numbers of voters would consider voting for Sisters. Still, there was a lot of room for error in those polls, and the Alphas carefully chose a very traditional candidate with rock solid credentials in favor of continuing things the way they were going. After all, hadn’t things been very good for members of Alpha party? They had managed to get rid of some very pesky laws that got in the way of making money, and they had also managed to run two simultaneous invasions, not just on Lyra, but also on Vega. It seemed almost incomprehensible to them that they could fail to win over the electorate in time for the general ballot.
The Omegans were also feeling very confident, especially as their field of candidates dwindled rapidly down to just the two remaining “firsts”. The Omegans were sure they couldn’t be beat, because things were in such a mess for the common Centaurian. The wisdom of the common Centaurian was profound, and all intellectual Centaurians felt humbled in their presence. Everyone wanted to get rid of the Alphas, and everyone was ready for this historic moment, this very first ever. They couldn’t lose. The candidates made visits all over, giving rousing speeches to standing room only crowds. They were generating so much excitement! Everywhere the Antarean went, he was greeted with cries of “Yes we can do the Can-Can!!! Nobody was actually sure what it meant, but it sounded good, so they kept on saying it, over and over, cheering it out lustily at the tops of their voices. The Sister Sirian was also traveling around, trying to persuade the Omegans to select her as their candidate. She, too, had a slogan, and was greeted wherever she went by shouts of “Can-Can we Can!”. Some people suspected that she had copied it from the Antarean, but they kept on shouting it, anyway.
The Alphas watched the ongoing show with interest, but without much worry. They had run their own surveys, and were convinced that the public weren’t going to vote in large enough numbers for an Antarean or a Sister. Their candidate was making a very solid showing in voting polls against both of the other candidates, and they were firmly convinced that the next candidate to assume the high office of Alpha Minister would be an Alpha. In addition, the battle on the other side was getting a little strange. Reports had come in that supporters of the Antarean had gotten into a shouting fight with supporters of the Sister, and that only the rapid deployment of the Alpha Centauri riot squad had kept it from degenerating into physical brawls. They watched amusedly from the sidelines.
Then, something strange began to happen. The chanting crowds began to sway to the rhythm of their chants. The chants began to become the principle means of communication at political rallies. The candidates were no longer speaking in complete sentences, or talking about anything they stood for. They just walked onto the stage, said a couple of words, and waited for the chanting to begin, smiling. They didn’t have to finish a thought, because their every thought was drowned out in rhythmic chanting. The chanting became more formulaic, more ritualistic, and more intensified. The candidates began waving their hands in new, never before seen gestures before the audience. As they’d wave their hands in one direction, the crowd would sway in that direction. Then, they waved their hands the other direction, and the crowd would sway back the other way. If they let their hands fall by their side, whole crowds of people would just suddenly drop limply onto the floor, and lie there writhing until the hands went back up. Then, they rose as a body, and returned to chanting and swaying.
All over Alpha Centauri, parents began to be worried about their children, spouses about their mates, bosses about their workers. Friends and loved ones began to interact strangely, vacantly, their eyes glazed over, staring through their empty eyes when spoken to. Many of the politically involved Omegas began to follow strange, undecipherable routines, and could not explain themselves what they were doing. When questioned, they only said they felt compelled to do these things. The behaviors in themselves were not harmful or illegal, but the fact that they were meaningless and were being done compulsively became a subject of much concern. Strange, midnight trips became normal, and many tasks were left undone, or were only done absentmindedly and half-heartedly.
Soon, Omegans began to cease sleeping. They paced the floor rapidly at night, and then would turn abruptly, head out the door, and lie outside in the yard looking up at the stars. They moved as if in a dream, sleepwalking without being asleep. They attended every political rally for their favored candidate, even if they had to travel many parsecs at great expense to do so. They suffered from sporadic amnesia, unable to identify themselves satisfactorily or tell where they were or how they got there. Alarms went up. All over Alpha Centauri, clinics were gearing up for an epidemic of whatever it might be. Something was in the water, they thought. Something was in the snacks that were served at the political rally. Something had polluted the air, and was being breathed in large amounts as they crowded hour after long hour in those stuffy political halls. Something was wrong somewhere.
It all came to a head the final day of the campaign for the Omega candidate. All the voters gathered in a large convention hall, determined that by the end of this convention they would know who they were going to run against the Alpha candidate. By now, many ordinary voters were fed up with the antics and the lack of substance demonstrated by the candidates, and were also frustrated by the fact that they seemed to offer only slogans, not real solid answers. Worst of all, nobody really understood the slogans – the slogans had been gleaned from some old archived material from a long ago culture that was only poorly understood. So, the voters who were still intact mentally shifted restlessly, just wanting it to be over so they could go home and have a good meal. The dedicated Omegans, the ones with the odd symptoms, seemed to want it to go on forever, and they cheered endlessly at every droning speaker, causing the convention to go on well past midnight. Suddenly, as if on cue, all the sleepwalking Omegans rose in a body, and began to march to the podium. The Antarean entered from one side of the stage, the Sister Sirian from another. Together, they stood in the middle of the stage, hands raised up in the air, their supporters surrounding them, swaying. The Antarean shouted “Can-Can!!” The Sister Sirian shouted “Can-Can!!” The swaying intensified. The supporters began humming, very low at first, but growing constantly louder until the din became unbearable. All over the convention hall, the other voters tried clapping their hands over their ears, but nothing helped. The hum just got louder and louder, and was punctuated every few seconds by shouts of “Can-Can!!” The two candidates clasped their hands together, and began swaying themselves. The voters still in their seats rushed for the door, but were unable to exit because it had been locked. They were trapped.
Soon, the meaning of it all became clear, but not soon enough. At the convention, the Omega party opted for a ticket containing both candidates, one who would serve as Alpha Minister one, and the other would serve as Alpha Minister two. Together, if they won, they would run the system for the next cycle. The solution seemed brilliant at the time, but no one could have imagined what would happen next. The Omega party campaign volunteers, still with glazed over eyes and swaying with emotion, began going door to door to drum up votes for their candidates. The Alpha party candidate began to drop in the polls, as he faced a formidable opposition. He never could come up with a slogan quite as mesmerizing as “Yes we Can-Can!” He never managed to catch up, and the Omega party took the election in the largest landslide ever recorded on Alpha Centauri.
We here in the Aurora Borealis would like to tell you what finally happened, but unfortunately, our records end there. Following the election of Alpha Minister one and Alpha Minister two, the whole system began to degenerate into a free for all. The only activity most of the populace was capable of by that time was swaying rhythmically and humming. Production ground to a halt. The wars on Lyra and Vega ended abruptly, in a ball of fire, as Alpha Centauri imploded from an unknown force that has never been able to be identified.
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