Taxing displayed stupidity

Taxing displayed stupidity

They want money? They should put a tax on displayed stupidity. They're going to have a budget surplus! And they won't be forced to donate their ministerial salaries to the Solidarity account, because the tax itself will eat up all their money.

(Of course I've done my own calculations: I'm even going to have to pay back due tax out the wazoo).

I'm looking at how the Government's representatives are spread out in the flooded territory of Romania, walking through mud, like some brainiacs chasing their own experiment with Romania: will it blow or will it be a dud?

I'm not even going to look at the heads of the Opposition; there's nothing to see there. They're sheltered behind being the Opposition, and they just keep saying the same old stuff over, and over, and over, and... you get the point. Crin, him being named after a flower and all, only works with sprinklers, and little boy Victor just issues another value judgment from time to time, which is useless for sticking in a bag of sand for the dam.
If they were only liars - (come on, they've transformed this country into Liars Anonymous and are having televised group therapy for G-d's sake) - and the rest of the time they'd actually have some wits about them, we would not be in the dump we're in right now, sitting and crying like at the river of Babylon. I'm sure they didn't do it out of malice. What would they have against us?

I don't need that much brains (I can do with the little I have) to be able to tell you know how come 2011, around the end of spring, our little country is going to be in deep... waters, again, and we won't have enough chocolate for our kind gentle ladies to hand out the windows of their cars, nor enough shovels for our something shoveling Prime Minister.

If the agents of the Protection and Guard Service would once and for all clear all the "assholes" and "cunts" from the President's sight (and I'm quoting the President back there, not my words!), our Dear Leader could see what the hell is in store for us: hunger and fear. But the laymen are used to these. Our naive eyes are going to see something else. Sooner than you'd think, new wonders of humanity are going to show up: debt collectors, false prophets, healers and miracle workers. And these will grow in the cesspool of Romanian reality like a cancer, and people will look to them for guidance, awaiting a Savior. The people, those that used to be happy about getting an official party-color bucket or a bag of flour, but who are going to be all quiet and melancholic then, like mannequins stuffed with overdue bills.

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