All Miami politicians signed a letter asking their constituents to take a long, metaphorical walk off a short pier. It can be read in full below.

Dear Miamians,

Fuck you. We don’t give a shit about your petty little lives. We never did. You expected us to represent your interests? Improve your lives? Solve your problems? Shut the fuck up.

You elected a brood of pseudo-charismatic sociopaths Miami politicians into office. Why on Earth would you expect us to act otherwise? That gleam in our eyes isn’t appeal. It’s the yawning abyss where our souls should reside. Our smiles mask the throbbing pain of projecting ostensibly human emotions. We kiss babies because they’re delicious, and we’d have to unhinge our jaws to swallow them whole—which we assume would hurt our reelections. Handshakes are how we steal the life force needed to power our empty husks. We prefer donations, but life force will do.

We’re far too occupied with double dealing, petty vendettas, and planning our electoral careers to give a fuck about you. You asked for public transportation, climate change adaptation, clean water, decent healthcare, safe streets, good education, a future for your children, and we promised to deliver. Then we remembered our promises weren’t worth their expended oxygen. Want rezone and pave over protected habitats? Dump millions of gallons of waste into the ocean? Extend inflated government contracts for decades? Then let’s talk—after you deposit the customary kickback into our overseas accounts. Otherwise, fuck off.

One might claim we’ve failed you, but failure implies exertion. We didn’t even try. We’re too busy spending six hours a day calling donors to sustain a never-ending reelection cycle. We have a horrendous quality of life—a truly macabre affront to civil service that suffocates any good intentions that briefly flitted through our tortured psyches. But when we gaze into your eyes as you beg, implore, cry out for our help, it’s completely worth it. Only then can we burst the internal dams holding back our accumulated self-loathing right onto the unwashed masses in a great, collective FUCK YOU. Money can’t buy that kind of power-fueled heroine rush. Actually, it can. Which is why we really need you to donate.

Honestly, you only have yourselves to blame. Who’s your state representative? State senator? County commissioner? You don’t fucking know. The devil’s greatest trick might have been to convince the world it didn’t exist, but you can’t recall our job descriptions. Most of us have been here for decades, misappropriating your taxes, wallowing in conflicts of interest, and not giving a good, flying fuck about you.

And here we’ll remain. After all, what are you going to do about it? Call us out? Vote us out? Run for office? Fuck you.

Miami-Dade County Elected Officials: https://www.miamidade.gov/elections/library/reports/elected-officials.pdf

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Andrew Otazo

'Miami Creation Myth' author Andrew Otazo has advised officials on Cuba policy, worked for the Mexican president, fired a tank, and ran with 30lbs of trash.

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