(Or: Democracy, But Make It Harassment)
Let us begin properly.
With manners.
With gratitude.
To the eighteen people who voted for me – yes, eighteen, a number so modest it could rent a studio in Dublin – you have my sincere thanks.
You stood up.
You ticked a box.
You did so knowing full well the room had already decided to sit down.
This alone qualifies you as troublemakers of character.
📊 A Brief Statistical Miracle
Eighteen votes.
In a building where consensus is achieved mainly through exhaustion and fear of being noticed.
Politically, this places me somewhere between “unhelpful question” and “woman who insists on reading things.”
Historically, it puts you in the category of people who were right too early, which is never popular and rarely rewarded.
Still, you voted.
Which was bold.
And slightly reckless.
And frankly more courage than the process deserved.
🤫 The Post-Election Whisper Campaign (Featuring No Campaign)
Many of you found me afterward.
In corridors.
By elevators.
With the hushed tone normally reserved for confessing you’ve stopped attending meetings on purpose.
“I voted for you,” you said, glancing around as if democracy were contagious.
Some of you went further.
“I’m sorry about this place.”
Which is not an apology.
It’s a eulogy.
One person paused, sighed, and said:
“This isn’t right.”
Which, translated from Irish understatement, means:
“Everyone knows exactly what’s happening, and nobody wants to be next.”
👥 On My Extremely Inconvenient Voter Base
I should mention something that fills me with peace and joy.
My support came largely from the young people.
The professionals.
The ones with jobs, deadlines, and a nervous habit of asking how decisions actually work.
This is comforting.
Had I drawn my strength from those who equate longevity with competence, authority with volume, and bullying with leadership, I would be deeply alarmed.
Instead, I appear to appeal to people who expect governance without intimidation, rules without vendettas, and disagreement without punishment.
That is not a failed campaign.
That is target accuracy.
🪞 A Word About Me (Because Someone Has To)
Let’s be fair.
Running in this election was like bringing a medical chart to a séance.
I spoke about accountability.
People nodded kindly.
Then voted for familiarity, ritual, and the reassuring belief that nothing bad is happening if we don’t name it.
I underestimated the power of comfort.
They underestimated the cost of incompetence.
We all stayed perfectly on brand.
🏛️ What Was Actually Voted For
Now, quietly, politely, clearly.
Those who voted for the incumbents did not vote for stability.
They voted for incompetence.
For confusion framed as experience.
For mismanagement.
For decisions made poorly and defended aggressively.
They also voted for harassment.
For enforcement that escalates instead of resolves.
For targeting dressed up as procedure.
For a culture where questioning authority is treated as misconduct, and compliance is rewarded with peace.
No villains required.
Just a collective agreement that this is acceptable, provided it’s familiar and aimed elsewhere.
🧠 The Process Itself (A Modest Irish Observation)
To the majority, no bitterness.
Harassment is easy to tolerate when it isn’t happening to you.
Incompetence feels safe when it’s predictable.
And nothing disrupts a pleasant routine like someone insisting the rules apply evenly.
You chose silence over fairness.
Order over justice.
A very popular choice.
Historically, a disastrous one.
🧱 Why the Eighteen Still Matter
You didn’t vote for me.
You voted against bullying disguised as governance.
Against incompetence defended as experience.
Against the idea that power excuses behavior.
You voted knowing you would likely lose.
Which makes you either naïve or principled.
Those are often the same people, and usually the only ones worth listening to.
🍻 A Final Toast
So here’s to the Eighteen.
To the ones who whispered truth in hallways.
To the ones who apologized when they didn’t need to.
To the ones who voted knowing it wouldn’t change the outcome, and did it anyway.
You are few.
You are inconvenient.
You are paying attention.
And if nothing else, you have confirmed one undeniable fact:
This community didn’t choose peace.
It didn’t choose stability.
It chose incompetence and harassment, and congratulated itself on the civility of the decision.
Sláinte.
