It’s qualifying week for municipal races, and hopefuls hither and yon are tossing their figurative hats in the ring in hopes of getting elected to an office where they’re bound to make half the people they talk to mad all the time. It just depends on which half they’re talking to. That said, were I dumb enough to run for office and I’m pretty dumb but not that dumb - the first thing I’d need is a slogan.

How’s this grab you?

“ALL HAIL THE WHITTEN!” I like it because it’s short and snappy like me and it gets my point across.

Which is good. We live in a nation where people are tired of pointy headed intellectuals and sneaky people in suits talking in big words about high faluting stuff nobody gives two Fig Newtons about.

That’s doubly true at the local level, where people are more ready than ever to drain the swamp and fill it back up with their own kind of reptiles. They want slogans and powerful prose and a platform that gets right to the heart of whatever the matter is.

I’ve got that covered, too. My platform is simple, like me: BLAME THE OTHER GUY.

That’s the secret to everything, you see. Take credit when things are good. Blame it on somebody else when it ain’t good. Problem solved.

That, and treat voters like you would want to be treated if you were in their Crocs. I.e., kiss their butts.

Tell them it’s not their fault. Tell them they’re being taken advantage of by dark nefarious forces and that’s why they aren’t happy and good looking and rich and on TV all the time.

Then tell them you can’t do it alone. You need their cash.

Lots of voters clearly eat that stuff up. And if they don’t, who cares? This is politics. You can’t make all the people happy all the time. What you can do is make yourself happy by getting elected to something.

Of course I’d need yard signs, because everybody knows you can’t win a local election without scattering yard signs about. I’d make mine purple and gold the colors of royalty, mind you - with silver dragons and skulls and crossbones and maybe a gargoyle and a bunny rabbit with a sword.

I wouldn’t put words on the signs, because nobody reads anything anymore anyway. That’s because they already know what they need to know. They learned it in kindergarten. The rest is egghead stuff.

Next week, after I haven’t qualified, I’ll tell you what I’d do if I had of qualified.

It starts with ridding us of both traffic and property taxes, so you won’t want to miss it. In the meantime, ALL HAIL THE WHITTEN!!