SIGIL ON YOUR SLEEVE

Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your time.

I have always believed that I wear my heart on my sleeve. My beliefs are clear and open, and I wear them proudly for all to see. Whether it be climate change, or Brexit, or Trump, or gun reform, I have always been abundantly clear where my opinions lie. Being open and honest is the first step to trust, and trust is important in this new age of politics. For years, politics has been dwarfed by a stream of clowns who do not know the real world. A bunch of upper class fly-by-night’s with no class at all. I want that to change. I know you do too.

Politics exists because of community, because of nationality, because of an idea that the people in places of power should be someone voted there by a majority who believe they can trust their pick to do right by them. I can be that catalyst for change because I am not one of them. I am one of you. And that is why I wear my heart on my sleeve.

And my heart is like my sigil. A sigil is a kind of pictorial signature, often shown to represent the desired outcome of the person displaying it. And the heart is my sigil because I care about this world we live in, and the people within it. I want to make sure each of you has the best life you can live. I want to give you the world on a plate.

But Sigil?

Sigil only takes. Sigil collects mementos and keeps them as trinkets. Sigil has no interest in improving this world. This world is but a train station on the railway of life, here only for a short while before departing again into the distance. Do you think this…being… can truly deliver what you need?

He cannot. He does not care for this world because he has seen many worlds before, and he will see many more in the future. Each world, compacted down to a few items for his stores. And what of this world? What do we have left to give him. The world has changed, my friends. We ourselves are just learning what it means to live in this post-Gods era. There are no trinkets that can explain our past. There are no remnants to properly convey our present. And the future is certainly shrouded in a mist.

But friends, a vote for me is a vote to lift the mist. Sigil works in the mist, protected by the cover it gives as he drains us of the things he thinks makes us what we are – but with the mist lifted he will be exposed for exactly what he is. A common thief, merely posing as a learned man.

A vote for me is a vote for stability in these tough times. I will be your rock, and your anchor. I will remain, steadfast, as Sigil drifts away, concentration broken by each new shiny realm he sees.

Vote Whitlock. Vote for a better world.