That cool pony at dusk, the matinal turn around what pass for parks in our city, an hour or so on the machines at the gym, a peppy sinking in the local swimming pool… Hobbies that daily us keep fit, pastimes that are more a agony than a real pleasure. We visit it working out; a preceding generation knew it as their habitually constitutional. I prefer the latter term… Not least because it reminds us of other obese matters – and how our health, expected mine and all-round fortune are being robbed in broad daylight. The game’s afoot, my dear Holmes? The incorrigible is, dear Watson, that it is not at all elementary! On the finish of it, constitutionals – get off on constitutions – are a advantage partiality and greatly to be desired in themselves.
Imagine, then, the gratification that wells up in the beyond question democratic hearts of the hoi polloi when they get wind of that there are plans to give them a supplemental one. The genuinely republican bust swells with boast at the mention of anything old (old-fashioned values, to order and tradition, the character things were); but wave the outline of a new constitution under their noses, and you may well belittle them to a quivering bowlful of jelly. Problem is: is the sight entirely constitutional? Consider: we already have a constitution! As constitutions go, it is not an out of the ordinary constitution – austerely because those who are its guardians cannot be compelled to go anywhere near far enough to security those who are meant to be loath by it. The same ironic cove who mental activity up the merry maxim mens sana, etc.
– Juvenal, a Roman satirist (do look out on him up on Wiki, would you, dear?) – also came up with the pithy phrase: "Who will custodian the guards?" It took Bob Dylan (don’t fuss googling him, girls) nineteen centuries to make a acceptable response: "The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind…"! Be that as it may, my bonnie fellow-citizens, the apex is that even after all the ado and to-do we’ve had with first off and newer republican constitutions, we have hardly achieved a state of affairs of affairs whereby we can safely say, all’s well and the constitution is in real hands. No, "it is more honor’d in the estrangement than the observance", as that mellifluous farcical metropolis bloke Hamlet uttered, glancing about him and muttering under his stirring that there was something mouldering in the state of, um, shall we voice Denmark? So, all this begs the question: if we have a guilt-ridden track list with the inalienable rights of our fellow citizens in the brand-new past; if we’ve bewitched poor care of our present constitution – warts and all – to the lengths of indifference (did we forget parts of the 17th Amendment, dears?) and carelessness (is the 13th all it can be?); what makes us regard that a unborn paper money of rights will be anything but wrong? It may fitting the pecker for some… But the residuum of us will be left holding the can – a suspicion analogous to wanting to pass water, and conclusion that the urinal we’re at is really a constitutional that leaks. Now that’s not a mignon pass… Surprise! Surprise! Given what passed above, you may be enchanted aback to call up that it is the people who are at the forefront of this manoeuvre to usher in a new constitution. When we require "people", indulgent reader, of course we do not mean the likes of you and me who go the unexpectedly mile to keep our elected servants happy, safe as houses and secure.
No, indeed! Because the amiable of magnate who will soon be gently agitating for constitutional turn over a new leaf are the type who exercise professionally to quivering the nation with their athletic intrepidity (think international cricket); abide by fit by regularly applying oodles of maquillage to their cosmetically enhanced facades (think cellulite – ugh, celluloid screen); and workout at Body By Kris (don’t suppose too hard). In a nutshell, sincerely beloved, it is the country’s sportsmen, actresses, and part-time, two-bit hoodlums who are continual the kin that will sanguinely graciousness the powers that be with a few unused decades in power. Don’t let all this put you off, dear. Face up to it twin a man.
Or, if you are a woman, groove on a goddess! Because while you may not be able to countenance the likelihood of silver that will change us overnight from a democratically challenged republic into (oh, say) a constitutional dictatorship, the right aptitude lies in your hands. By the spell April rolls around, perhaps, the decimal point would have struck home… So don’t omit to tighten your abs to show that you won’t inclination it, even as you reach a leg and put your best foot forward in the governing of the polling booth.
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