So let's say that you're in elementary school. Let's say that you're in fifth grade, the highest of the high, the mightiest of the mighty at that young age. Let's say, too, that there are just a ton of kids in your school, a couple hundred in each grade. There's a huge playground, with tons to do; there's four square, there's a baseball diamond, a soccer field, a football field, hell even a separate kickball diamond. There's a playground and a swing set and hey even a rugby pitch, a teeter totter and some monkey bars. Maybe even multiples of each. It's a fantasy, let's go with it.
Read more after the jump.
Here's where we have to suspend disbelief for a moment. Let's say that there's a group of fifth graders, and they're the ones that get to divide the recess resources-- for whatever reason, the school doesn't have enough balls for each field, or supplies for each recess activity. The school decides, hey, let's give the kids the voice in this, they're the ones playing on the equipment. So this group of fifth graders, they get all of the balls and other items for the playground and, every day at recess, they hand out the supplies. But there's got to be checks and balances, so for each recess activity, there's one kid who is named the leader of that activity. He's elected by the kids who use that activity the most.
With me so far?
See, they have to go with a small group because the school is so big that it's nigh impossible to factor in every individual child's voice. So instead the kids vote on fifth graders they want representing them. They try to pick the ones that they think are going to keep the whole playground in the best working order. Let's say you want to be one of these kids. Now, you don't really know the first thing about running a playground, but you know how to get things you want, and you want the rugby pitch gone because you're terrible at that sport, you want the monkey bears taken down because you fall on that shit all the time, and you think that four square and kickball can probably just share your ball.
You know that these opinions aren't necessarily popular, but you don't really come out and say that those things are what you want. Instead you focus on making sure everyone knows that everybody else that wants to run the playground, they're evil and if they get what they want, the teachers are just going to burn down the whole damn playground.
Hell, you've got a couple of buddies in on this, and when the votes are tallied, among the eight possibly positions in the group, you and your friends comprise five. It's great, when the other three kids have objections, you can just say "Majority rules, nerd!" and then spit in their face. Not only can you do that, but when the other three kids start throwing a fit about not being listened to, that's actually what you do.
It's all going swimmingly, you only give out the balls you want to when you want to, and because you have the majority, no one can really do anything about it.
But-- oh shit-- you bite off more than you can chew. You're so SICK of rugby getting played on YOUR playground that you try to pass a new rule that says two things: you can make a group pay for new items if they lose their old ones, and you can get rid of any playground activity that you want in a majority vote of the group WITHOUT approval from the playground activity leaders. See, before, to remove an activity completely, the leader of that activity could argue with you and if both sides couldn't reach an agreement, nothing was done. If you get this new rule passed, you figure you've got it made. Bye-bye rugby.
People lose their goddamn minds.
It's not so much about the rugby, but the rugby leader isn't as stupid as he looks, and he figures out (and tells all the other leaders) that if you get your rule passed, ALL of the playground activities could be destroyed if you get your way. When the other leaders figure this out, they're yelling at you and yelling at you.
Do you care? Psh. Hell no. You've got the majority and, if the others don't like it, tough titties. You've got the majority on your side, and you argue that it's not really so much about eliminating the activities, you just want the right to do it because some of those accessories are expensive and even if they're not lost (making the activities groups pay for them) the money can add up. It's a money issue, you keep saying.
They don't really buy it, but you don't care. You call the eight of you together for the vote.
Holy shit, though, the three kids who weren't your friends have straight left. You don't get why until one of the teachers tells you that you can't make a new rule about money without at least six kids from the group present. You blow a gasket. You tell the teacher that they just left because they're mad they're not the majority and all these kids are from other schools anyway, but the teacher just shrugs her shoulders and tells you that's the way it is.
What do you do?
We found out the answer last week: After insisting adamantly that it's a money issue, you call you group together, rewrite the rule to say that it just gives you the permission to eliminate activities and pass it with your five. It doesn't matter that you're being dishonest-- you've been dishonest since you started gunning for this group-- it just matters that you get what you want.
Fuck you, Scott Walker.
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