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Salient: Victoria University Students' Paper. Vol. 30, No. 6. 1967.

Elections farcical

Elections farcical

Sirs,—Hey ho, and up with democracy.

I made my way to the long table in the Union foyer to record my democratic right. Oh well. I thought. I may as well have a go. Name, she said. Rapp, I said, r-a-p-p. Flick flick. She told her charming friend my number. What's this, I thought as she scribbled my number on the back of my voting form. Just fill that in, she said.

I wonder who he is, I thought, or is it a she? Gager, Rees-Thomas, White, as I scanned the form-idable. Oh that looks easy! Secretary, Rashbrooke and Stenswick, one, two. Good. Now. President, God I don't know. Brackenbury, I just don't bloody know. Oh well—oh there are some photographs on that board there behind the table. Hmmm, that chap's smiling. I remember George Bernard Shaw once said that a politician who smiles on his hustings photograph is no good. I agree, I want someone forthright, with good ideas, not some twit smiling as though he's in a baby contest. Hey, that chap's got a beard; must have some stuff, good strong face too, yea, someone forthright with brains, good administrator.

I voted for him. What's this, preferential voting; oh yeah, you have to go 1 2 3. etc. Look. I just don't know who these Jokers are. I don't want to vote for some twit who doesn't know a bloody thing, do I? I suppose I shouldn't vote really. I suppose.

But they say the poll is hang of a low. I suppose I should really. Don't you know any of them, said one of the girls. What do you bloody mean, I said, snapping back After all, it's a bit of a cheek, isn't it. I thought it was supposed to be a secret ballot My number on the back of that voting sheet, too. Of course I know who they are, I said, and feeling bloody annoyed, I added, what do you take me for? I hoped she wouldn't answer. I was marked now so I just wrote 2 3 4 beside some names, I can't remember them now.

I folded up my paper as the instructions said and pushed it through the slit in the top of the green tin on the table Padlocks! Two of them. Fair go, I thought. What's the use of having a huge big green tin barred to the teeth and your number on the back of the voting sheet you've shoved into the tin. God, I thought, this is bloody silly, a farce even. I walked away furious.

P. R. Rapp.