Not So Great Expectations
KFC discovers checks and balances, but only after checking their poll numbers.
They say it's seldom a bad idea to start with a joke, and so there you have it. No, I don't mean Dr. Castro per se, but rather the exercise in futility wrapped in the Freudian revelation that is the proposed agenda item above. While this little whopper comes from a leaked draft of the next commission meeting's agenda (and thus may not survive to see the light of day), I'm guessing it won't make the cut given how prodigiously and manifoldly stupid it is.
For starters, there’s the sheer audacity of KFC suddenly taking an interest in super majorities. This is the same KFC, as you’ll recall, that’s spent the better part of two years gloating over their simple three-vote majority. Who can forget “In Coral Gables, it takes three to tango!”—one of Mrs. Cruzchev’s favorite taunts now immortalized as a lapel pin? Indeed, plenty of ink has been spilled analyzing KFC’s core ruling philosophy, which can be fully expressed with a certain mathematical elegance: 3>2, the end.
To be sure, the absolute power of three is so integral to KFC’s identity that I once strongly considered commissioning a parody video in the style of that old Schoolhouse Rock song, “I’m Just a Bill,” featuring Kirk, Ariel, and Dr. Castro dressed as the Jackson Five, singing and dancing to the tune: “🎶 KFC…easy as 1,2,3 🎶”
Seriously though, these people have some nerve. According to KFC’s exquisite logic, April elections—those quaint, quality-over-quantity, quasi-providential exemplars of “small d” democracy—are supposedly nothing less than pure and infallible expressions of the people’s will. Am I wrong? Has Ariel not reminded us, time and again, how 3,900 or so votes cast in the lowest-turnout election in recent history represented some kind of irrefutable and divine mandate? Has Mrs. Cruzchev not repeatedly scolded us with her famous refrain, “The residents have spoken”? Has KFC not gloated, as they’ve shoved unvetted city managers down our throats one after the other, that “elections have consequences”?
They do indeed...except for maybe the next election. That one's shaping up to be rather different because, you see, KFC is in grave danger of losing all three races. The sorry slate of toadies and malcontents they've put up may not have the juice to get the job done, which means their precious three-vote majority is liable to evaporate. And if it does, rest assured elections will immediately cease to have consequences, and those boutique April affairs that supposedly separate the wheat from the electoral chaff will prove just as messy and corruptible as any other election.
As we've learned from KFC's salary increases, their opposition to November elections, their self-serving usurpation of the city manager's office, and a host of other deeply unpopular moves, the will of the people is legitimate only so long as it aligns with KFC's agenda. When it doesn't, it morphs into something else entirely: noise, distraction, interference—resistance that must be suppressed at all costs. The ridiculously moronic agenda item above is merely the latest, and perhaps most overt, expression of this fact.
Make no mistake about what KFC is telling you here: should we, the people of Coral Gables, have the temerity to reject two more years of their monopoly by failing to elect one of the human doormats they've placed on the upcoming ballot, they'll want structural barriers in place to maintain de facto control even as a minority bloc. What they can't accomplish democratically, they'll pursue procedurally. If only that damned Charter Review Committee could have convened sooner!
Indeed, should KFC be reduced to just FC, and with no W (Wells) or P (Pardo) or M (Miro) to fill the void, watch how rapidly they discover a concept called “the tyranny of the majority.” Watch how quickly Ariel and Dr. Castro brush up on elementary arithmetic and discover that 2/5 doesn't equal 0. Watch how much deference, professional courtesy, and respect all duly elected representatives will instantly deserve—even those in the minority bloc. Watch how the power of three votes is rhetorically reduced from being sufficiently potent to appoint city managers without process to being suddenly too thin and flimsy to confer legitimacy upon even the most routine resolutions.
That's what this “five year budgeting plan” is, after all: a toothless expression of fiscal priorities with no practical effect on the actual budget, which is set annually through a long and arduous process. It's toothless because it has to be. Even the national budget, that $6 trillion behemoth, requires annual writing and approval—you simply can't budget across greater time horizons given the infinite array of variables and externalities involved. Imagine 2007's budget priorities surviving 2008's exigencies. Picture cobbling together a supermajority to alter a budget plan conceived five years ago. This proposed resolution, much like Dr. Castro herself, is hollow and meaningless.
And therein lies its unique idiocy. If you must signal your contempt for any democratic outcome that threatens your chokehold on the city, at least do it over something that matters. Don't unmask yourself quite so irrevocably over something this pointless. Don't reveal your complete lack of faith in your handpicked candidates, just how low your expectations for them are, over a resolution that is as easily reversible as it is futile. At least wait until the voters reject you before you brazenly reject them.
Parting Predictions
Speaking of low expectations, allow me to offer a few parting predictions. First, the resolution above is but one of many signs KFC isn't liking their chances in April. If you've been following recent commission meetings, you'll have noticed Ariel being more combative and ornery than usual. To some extent, this is merely KFC's favorite anti-Lago strategy—what I call “bait-and-bash” (baiting Lago into confrontation through nasty accusations, then bashing him for being uncivil if he engages)—being ratcheted up to election-season intensity. But it's also, in large measure, raw frustration. Ariel, in particular, hates to lose (you'd think he'd be used to it by now), and is known for lashing out when he doesn't get his way. Expect more sniping, mud-slinging, and general mean-girl behavior from Ariel and Dr. Castro if KFC's candidates don't show signs of life soon.
Second, expect to see the continued convergence of KFC candidates' campaigns in both substance and style. One of the strongest rumors—or rather, worst-kept secrets—of this election season is that Ariel is spearheading Kirk's campaign, and possibly those of Wells and Pardo. This makes intuitive sense. None of these guys can raise money, which means even at market rates, Ariel is the only sad option they can afford. But beyond mere economics, what could be more quintessentially Ariel than running the campaigns of current and future commission members? With respect to Kirk in particular, one has to wonder: how exactly do two sitting commissioners avoid violating Sunshine Laws while collaborating on a political campaign that necessarily involves discussing past, present, and future commission business?
“Kirk, let’s go over your position on a few issues that the commission will have to contend with, but also let’s not discuss any issues that the commission will have to contend with.”
At any rate, Ariel running Kirk's campaign is the most logical explanation for the sudden emergence of remarkably Ariel-esque messaging and aesthetics from Kirk. Who else is known for their signature, self-aggrandizing, e-blasted “statements” and misaligned palm cards? Who else signs everything with their first name in cursive? And who, besides Ariel, could possibly achieve that distinctive early 2000s, Windows XP, Microsoft Word aesthetic that Kirk has recently adopted?
Finally, expect plenty of PAC action—potentially from both sides. We know Lago's PAC, Gables First, will provide the bulk of his air support. Given how strongly and negatively KFC's raises registered in recent polling, expect their tried-and-true strategy to continue: a constant refrain of the raises/November elections/city manager debacles straight through April.
But Gables First isn't the only PAC to watch. As we learned during the mayoral recall, there are plenty of other, much less transparent PACs in the game—ones that specialize in filtering mega-donations through multiple organizations and shadowy entities based in Tallahassee or Tampa or wherever. Entities that exists solely for the purpose steering dark money from special interests ranging from billionaire developers to public-employee unions. These groups have a massive vested interest in toppling Lago who, ironically, has singlehandedly thwarted more development projects than anyone in the past decade. And we all know the one note they know how to play: corruption. (By the way, when are the FBI/SEC/CIA/KGB/Mossad finally going to arrest Lago? Hasn't this been an any-day-now proposition for the past two years?)
The only caveat here is money. Last year’s recall was an expensive exercise that bore no fruit other than gifting Lago a huge boost in popularity (it’s almost as if voters sympathize with public figures who are viciously and systematically maligned by a cabal of shady interest groups and political adversaries). It remains to be seen whether those deep and dark pockets that funded the recall are willing to throw good money after bad—especially given how spectacularly their strategy failed the first time. We'll see soon enough, but as of writing, I'd say it's six to five and pick 'em whether these guys fully engage.
Anyway, that’s all I’ve got for today. I’ll have plenty more for you in the coming weeks.