Policrook

Repeat It Enough and
They’ll Believe It’s True

Welcome to the seedy underbelly of political machination, where corruption wears a suit and szarcasts around cape like a caped crusader.
Here, investigations don't signal accountability; they serve as DIY kits for the con artist's renaissance.
This is where aspiring politicians learn to funnel the public’s ire into a smokescreen thick enough to obscure not just their crimes, but truth itself.
Let’s pull back the layers of this political sleight of hand, illuminating the steps taken to spin scandal into gold, because in this circus, the clowns aren’t just on stage—they’re running the show.
At the heart of this ruse lies the art of declaring war on facts.
When facing a barrage of uncomfortable truths—be it embezzlement funds or text messages from a questionable donor—the first instinct is to craft a narrative so preposterous it would make a fiction writer blush.
Calling any investigation a “witch hunt” is less an act than a political anthem, systematically transforming accountability into an Orwellian farce.
Forget reasonable arguments; replace them with repeated slogans since, as history demonstrates, repetition is the talisman against critical thought.
Scream “witch hunt!” loud enough, and a surprising number of voters will drown in the ocean of denial while you swim just above, unscathed, like a sleek politician-turned-Messiah.
Next comes the masterstroke: ascending to victimhood.
Nothing wins public sympathy quite like a good old-fashioned sob story.
The truth?
It's nothing but a sticky mess, oozing inconvenient facts that would shatter any sturdy pedestal.
So, when faced with facts, call upon your inner martyr, clutching your metaphorical pearls while deriding those daring enough to seek clarity as agents of the “deep state.” Put on a show, sidestepping accountability as you weave an elaborate tale of political persecution that could rival a Dickens novel.
Crowdfunding becomes your cry for help, turning lavish vacations into noble crusades.
Voters fervently donate to fight the "elites," blissfully unaware that they’re lining the pockets of the very person they believe is their champion.
You’ll have them convinced that each dollar they contribute is a brick thrown at a corrupt castle, while you toast champagne at a yacht party, basking in your not-so-humble role as a “man of the people.”

But it doesn’t end there.
Spawn deceit like a modern-day magician as you sweep the truth beneath a sea of disinformation.
Create echo chambers online, where every failure to engage with reality is met with sycophantic support.
Suddenly, a heinous scandal becomes a “pre-planned assault," lessons in duplicity framed as narrative.
A press conference becomes your stage for theatrics rather than accountability—an Ibsen play where you’re the star and real journalism is cast as the catty sidekick.
When the press raises uncomfortable questions, respond with rehearsed soundbites dripping in faux indignation.
Declare your merit like a jaded celebrity as inept pundits puppeteer your ego, turning the rabble’s valid distrust into fuel for your own political pyre.
In the end, when the house of cards threatens to collapse, backtrack with a sprinkling of personal anecdotes, persistent charm, and perhaps a little confetti to distract the masses.
Share tales of your rags-to-riches saga, all while failing to mention you secured those riches through means the very investigators are probing.
People reside in a vortex of narrative, and every time you raise a glass pronouncedly “in celebration of democracy,” the astute see it for the veil it truly is.
Congratulations! You are now armed with one of the greatest tricks in the political book.
Just keep telling the story that suits you, but remember: people love a good tale—especially when it distracts them from what’s actually happening.
The lesson for you, the voter, is this: the moment you hear a politician scream "witch hunt," recognize you're witnessing the alarm bell of corruption ready to engulf your trust.
This isn’t wit; this is a weapon they wield with chilling grace.
The system isn't made up just of dishonest powerbrokers, but too often, these self-serving players seek to replace integrity with blind obedience among those they govern.
So, the next time you hear a politician playing the victim, ask yourself—how deep does the deception go, and more importantly, when do you reclaim your right to demand unfiltered truth?
Stay woke.