The Enlightened Party

Joseph stared at the television absent mindedly while biting into his sandwich. It was day-time TV. Not worth watching in the slightest, but he always forgot to bring a book or a magazine to read during lunch. He and his coworkers were confined to the network stations, lacking even basic cable, one of life's new necessities. His coworkers, all of them middle aged women, didn't seem to mind the prison of soaps. They gobbled up the stories, the lies the characters told to each other, the back stabbing and love-heptagons -- all wrapped up in a shell of lackluster acting.

A commercial broke up the web of artificial deceit. Joseph wouldn't have minded, except that a major election was on the horizon, and half of the ads were about the candidates. Or more accurately, they were about the candidate's opposition, who is a terrible, terrible man or woman who hates America. Or is too patriotic, or wants to raise taxes, or has a history of drowning innocent puppies and kittens. Or--

"Are you tired of hearing lies, half-truths and mudslinging?" Came the voice from the commercial. It was a powerful, deep voice that carefully poured perfect enunciation over each syllable. Yet it wasn't tainted with any malevolence that existed in the other commercials. Joseph found himself nodding.

"Well so am I," the voice said. The screen, which was blank, suddenly erupted with light that revealed an older, bald-headed gentleman dressed in khaki colors. The effect made him seem almost naked.

"Come this election, you have three choices. You may choose to not vote, all the while thinking it noble to choose not to engage in petty party politics. That's very well and good but I myself find it misguided and hurtful in the long run. You may choose to vote for either of the two major parties, unaware that this is in actuality a single choice no matter which party you pick.

"Or you can vote for me. My promise to you, as an enlightened voter, is to never lie. There will be no backstabbing and all truths will be whole. All the while I promise to continue fighting for you the freedoms that you, as a human being, deserve." The mono-colored man nodded and began walking off the screen. Joseph felt confused. He was hanging on to every word the man had said but was uncertain as to who it was. He needed more.

Then, almost as an afterthought, the man stopped before walking off camera and looked directly at it. He began to say, with a humble smile on his face, "And by the way, my name is--"

--Click. Bertha had changed the channel to another soap program.