Political Puppet

We’ll science it. We. All of us. Will “science” it. Roughly translated as “this is far beyond your understanding, but join me in adopting the wry in-jokes of the scientific community as though it isn’t.” Flattering the vanity of the masses by equating admiration of a thing with mastery of it.

Call me master, the undertone said, and I will let you feel masterful.

“No!” Jason shouted, a split second before realising he had opened his mouth. The crowd fell silent, eyes turned to him. Angry eyes. Bewildered eyes. Some merely suspicious. Josie, a few paces away, glared in fury.

“Aha! A dissenting voice!” cried Lombard in a tone that suggested this was the most delightful thing to have ever happened to him. He hoped from foot to foot on his box as though he couldn’t contain his pleasure. “Tell me young man, what is it you don’t agree with?”

Jason felt the hostility under the words, saw the baleful stare in the eyes above the rictus grin. He felt his heart pumping, adrenaline lending him strength.

“You can’t just say science will fix everything. The only science we’ve heard from you is armchair psychology and amateur economics!”





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)