Once upon a time in the enchanted kingdom of Blenvale, a new noblewoman arrived, Missy Muffet. She was fresh-faced, community-minded, and dared to do what so few in this democracy-lite microstate have the energy for: she put her name forward for the condo board.
Now, let us be clear – there were no debates, no elections, no door-to-door campaigns, no flyers wedged under door handles. Why? Because, in a stroke of civic convenience, there were exactly as many candidates as there were seats. Again. Every. Single. Time.
So, as is tradition in our little oligarchy, all were acclaimed. A word that in this context does not mean “praised,” “celebrated,” or even “vaguely known by more than five people in the building,” but rather: defaulted into power due to a lack of options.
Intrigued by this new addition to the Board of Sleepy Suppression, we reached out through a common acquaintance. Perhaps, we thought, she might be open to dialogue, listening, even the radical notion of representing diverse owner concerns. After all, she wasn’t yet corrupted by boiler budget worship or the Holy Doctrine of Rule 8.4(c).
The reply? A marvel of accidental satire:
“I would have met with them, but I cannot anymore. I’ve been acclaimed, so I’m a board member already.”
Ah yes. Acclamation: the mystical rite that instantly transmutes citizen into monarch. No further conversation needed. No hearing from the peasants. One day: human. Next day: divine right of kings.
One can only imagine if elected MPs, upon winning uncontested ridings, sent this to constituents:
“Dear Voters,
Thank you for your interest. Unfortunately, I am now a Member of Parliament. Accordingly, I must refrain from interacting with you. Sincerely, Your Untouchable.”
Because what better time not to meet with owners than the very moment you are sworn in to represent them?
Let’s not forget the context: this wasn’t a hostile confrontation. No picket signs. No chanting. Just a polite message – on the same day the results were announced – asking if she’d be willing to talk.
The answer was not no. The answer was above. Above discourse. Above accountability. Above the smelly work of public engagement.
But fear not, dear reader. Here at The Condo Tribune, we do not begrudge her the acclamation. After all, some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them by a default clause in Robert’s Rules of Order.
All hail the latest in a long line of Acclaimed Absolutists. We wish her the very best in her noble quest to never speak to her subjects.
Disclaimer: This post is satire and opinion. Read full disclaimer.
