The mayor of Kharkhalistan, commonly known as Kharkoudas, takes a brief respite and then sets out once more toward glory.
The recklessness that characterizes and consumes him spills over into his writing. The one and only, who pays for everything, never runs out of his endless ramblings. Can anyone imagine Mayor Charchoudas as a Pope?;
Not even the Pope would think of speaking with such arrogance (who, after all, is infallible!). Then again, perhaps even the Pope would pale in comparison to this «personality,» this «omniscient» figure. Title after title. «President of the Federation of Pregnant Cows,» «Secretary-General of the Federation for the Protection of Donkey Flies»—these are just a few of the titles that follow him and that he so proudly flaunts at every opportunity.
He’s a bit of a Trump-like figure, but the people of Charchali adore him and feel proud of him. On a more personal level, he begs them not to call him a fool. He threatens to sue and demands a written apology to restore his reputation. Not even Aristophanes could have imagined such a scenario. He’d still be writing plays.
Tell me, Mayor Harchouda, did you ever expect—even deep down—such grandeur and such recognition?;
There is no Inspector Clouseau, you see, to expose the vile, malicious, and unethical attacks you’re subjected to on an almost daily basis.
You also happen to be the defender of all the «parsley» types out there. The «family.» The «family» discusses, decides, and votes. The all-wise guru and his followers have unshakable arguments. They own homes, have assets, debate with the «idiots,» and the scales tip “in favor of Harchoudas.” Perhaps, after all, Mayor Harchoudas, you too should establish the
Golden visa? Something like a Xarxalian GOLDEN Visa? Or an Antoni Golden Visa? Cyprus is the pioneer, followed by Elladistan. It’s okay—even if you’re third—to implement it in Xarxalistan too. Believe me, your popularity will skyrocket. I may oppose you, but deep down (very deep down) I like you and feel for you.
After thorough research, I can reveal to you that many non-natives will vote for you. All you have to do is give them the Golden Visa—regardless of any derogatory label.
Yes. We, the few, are not cogs in the system. And we never will be.
We do not write under dictation. We write whatever comes to mind, but on one condition: that it reflects reality, without partisan agendas, blinders, or dependencies, and without kowtowing to whoever is in power at the time.
As we pass by, the doors of joy, commerce, and humility do not open. On the contrary, all the doors close.
Every day we encounter the outcasts of everyday life. We encounter them on the streets and in the squares. That is where real politics begins.
We demand respect.
We don't buy people's consciences.
We don't sell our souls for a seat at the table.
The story changes when people who have felt alone for years realize that they are not alone.
Few, perhaps… but not very few
An Eteo-Tsirigotis
And for copying
Stavros Megalokonomos
P.S. Any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental.
