My people, election season is upon us, and I have good news: I intend to throw my hat in the ring once again.
Surprised? You shouldn’t be.
Surely you remember the 2011 campaign, when I announced my candidacy with such amazing fanfare that everyone forgot I’m an expatriate who is ineligible to run for office Nonetheless, something went horribly wrong: I didn’t receive a single vote, even though I begged all of you to write in my name on your ballots.
This was disheartening, and I briefly considered running in 2015 under a platform of Revenge on Voters.
But my pain softened with time, my people, and I have since forgiven you.
My anger, in fact, has turned to concern: What sort of a community doesn’t vote for a guy who promises free beer?
Clearly, the Virgin Islands needs my selfless service now more than ever.
Party needed
After analysing the previous campaigns, I realised that I made a serious mistake in 2011: I ran as an independent candidate.
Along with 14 other independents, I was annihilated by the well-oiled machinery of the National Democratic Party and the Virgin Islands Party.
Like it or not, the two-party system is so entrenched that even a strong and charming personality like mine could not alter the political landscape.
So for 2015, I knew I would need a new strategy.
At first, I considered casting my lot with the NDP or VIP. But after reviewing some back issues of The BVI Beacon, I just couldn’t do it.
Another option presented itself on Saturday, when the People’s Empowerment Party launched. But that group already had a president, a secretary and other officials — none of whom even invited me to join.
My own party
For these reasons, my people, I have decided to strike out on my own.
Over the weekend, I did a little research and learned that I am very lucky. You see, in most other countries, political parties are regulated: They may be required to register with an elections office and to have a certain number of members, for example.
Often, such rules are designed to curtail silliness, as in Australia, which tightened its legislation shortly after the Deadly Serious Party campaigned under a promise to release a flock of killer penguins to protect the country’s coastline.
Here in the VI, however, there are no such regulations. Apparently, pretty much anyone can form a political party whenever they want.
Needless to say, I was thrilled.
As a bonus, there are no campaign finance laws in the VI. In other democracies, candidates are required to disclose the source of campaign contributions and to track expenditures. Here, party fundraising is pretty much a free-for-all.
So if I don’t win, I presumably can pocket the cash raised by my party, collect my killer penguins, and flee the territory.
Yes, my people: The 2015 election is a win-win scenario!
A name
The first task was naming my party.
I thought long and hard.
At first, I considered referencing lofty goals that would strike national pride in voters’ hearts: the Progressive Liberty Party; the Flag Wavers; the Vigilate Alliance; the Justice Party; and so on.
But these names were boring.
I then wondered if I should try to piggyback on the two biggest parties’ success by confusing voters with a name such as the Virgin Democratic Party. Or, like the makers of “Polex” brand watches and other knock-off merchandise, I could simply misspell a word or two: the Natonal Democrotic Purty.
But it occurred to me that such names, venerable though they may be, wouldn’t necessarily appeal to disillusioned young people, who make up a growing percentage of the voting populace.
So I came up with the YOLO Party, using the hip acronym for “You Only Live Once.”
On second thought, though, this name seemed a little too carpe diem for a political party whose president (me) doesn’t want voters to dwell on the possibility that he might take their donations and penguins and disappear into the night.
I also mulled names that focus on the important issues facing the territory. The Sewage Treatment Party, for instance, would show voters my opposition to the practice of flushing toilets into the ocean.
Honesty
However, after all that thinking, I suddenly realised I was kidding myself.
Above all, I desperately want my campaign to be honest. And naming my party after lofty goals would be anything but.
When is the last time idealism actually got someone elected?
After this reality set in, I almost decided on the Refrigerator and White Envelope Party, but I feared arrest.
The Petty Contracts Party was more respectable, but I worried that voters would want to receive their contracts before the election, not after. Since I’m practically broke, I figured it would be hard to compete with the ruling NDP in this regard.
The Free Beer Party seemed like an excellent idea until someone told me that there are actually lots of people in the territory who don’t drink beer at all.
Then I had an epiphany: Even teetotallers like to have a good time.
Thus, my people, allow me to introduce the Party Party!
Its platform will be based primarily on the promise of free food, drink and revelry. And you can rest assured that besides all the beer kegs, there will be non-alcoholic options available at all campaign functions.
Welcome aboard
To date, I am the only member of the Party Party. But after this column hits the newsstands, I fully expect hundreds of members to join before the week is out.
Anyone else interested in joining should speak to the party secretary, who is me. Financial contributions are also welcome, and should be sent directly to the party treasurer, who is also me.
My people, thanks in advance for joining me on the road to the Central Administration Building. We’re gonna have a blast!
Disclaimer: Dateline: Paradise is a column and occasionally contains satirical “news” articles that are entirely fictional.