Chapter 35
Appointing Only the Loyal and the Blackmailable
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Skills Optional. Loyalty
Mandatory.
The real game relies on puppeteers who enrich their thrones with strings of loyalty and secrets.
Welcome to the spectacularly corrupt circus where competition is discouraged, and the only room for growth is in facilitating your own incompetence through handpicked sycophants.
Here’s the truth that corrupt politicians don’t want you to see: loyalty trumps talent every time.
Just think about it; why invest in a strategist when you could replace them with a cheerleader who will clap enthusiastically at your every misstep rather than raise uncomfortable questions?
Let's face the cold, hard reality: in the ruthless hierarchy of political survival, you’d much rather hire a band of drooling sycophants than risk the idea-havoc wrought by independent thinkers.
You want people who are conditioned to nod obediently as you spin your own narrative like a tornado, tearing right through reason.
These loyalists become your mouthpieces, chanting your praises while shoveling your incompetence deep into the background where the light of scrutiny can’t reach.
After all, what is a scandal but an opportunity for manipulation, conveniently cloaked under the guise of collective ignorance?
Then there’s the blackmailable faction—the political cancer that festers in the dark, disease-ridden corners of your entourage.
Ancient wisdom says that everyone has a skeleton in their closet: the trick is to have the keys to their bone yard.
Hold their secrets over their heads like a flaming sword, and suddenly they’re not just loyal; they’re shackled by fear.
When dissent is met with the chilling sensation of your brandished threats, loyalty becomes a survival instinct, propagating a toxic culture of compliance.
It’s not about being competent; it’s about knowing just enough to play the game and keep your mouth shut.
These aren’t just political strategies; they are the twisted gymnastics of the human mind.
The loyal and the compromised become an ecosystem, with their fear and gratitude feeding each other endlessly, ensuring that the only thing that grows is your grip on power.
Each call for loyalty is a dance with danger, where you don’t just reward obedience—you instill dread that reminds everyone who really wears the crown.
You can fire someone without ever touching a hair on their head; just create an atmosphere rife with anxiety, and the threat alone is enough to bind your subjects to their invisible chains.
Now, as we examine this sinister stage, the role of manipulation becomes clear: it’s not merely a tactic; it’s an art form perfected by corrupt officials.
With every promotion, every fabricated praise, you're not building a team; you’re constructing an elaborate facade, often embodied in smiling faces that hide bile.
This is a reality show spun into a political opera, where you, the director, repeatedly cast yourself as both hero and villain, wielding the power to sway opinions and rewrite the script as your scandalous saga unfolds.
It’s not just politics; it’s psychological warfare dressed in pleasantries.
So, dear voter, the lesson written in invisible ink on the body of this chapter is stark: be wary of the loyalty parade you’re being sold.
Politicians don’t typically go running for your vote—they run to pluck a cadre of empty vessels and gilded puppets ready to cheer their every misdeed while squashing dissent.
Know this: integrity isn’t a function of the suit you wear; it’s a testament to the depths you’re willing to plunge to keep your power.
Not every judge or cop is in on the grift, but you can be sure that beneath the surface, corrupt politicians are hard at work laying the groundwork to replace integrity with unyielding obedience.
Watch for the signs; recognize when your leaders are buying loyalty with fear, and don’t let them take you down with their deceptions.
It’s your responsibility to dismantle the choreography of corruption and reclaim the stage of democracy.