Default Settings: McGuffey’s Guide to Accidental Power(Because apparently, paperwork = government.)
- Name Withheld for Privacy Reasons
- Apr 11, 2025
- 6 min read
🗳️ The Council Hunger Games Begin
(May the Default Power Be Ever in Their Favor)
Hear ye, hear ye, my dear readers! It’s that magical time again—when a few brave souls dust off their printer, track down a pen that works, and gather enough registered voter friends to sign a petition... so they can land themselves a council seat.
And let’s be real: around here, if you make it through the paperwork jungle, you’re pretty much guaranteed a win. Because, as long as I’ve lived in this town, we’ve never had enough people run for office.
It’s the political equivalent of “first one to call shotgun gets it.” No real debate. No real race. Just a quiet shuffle of paperwork, and boom—welcome to power.
But this year? Oh, this year has potential. We’ve got four council seats up for grabs. That’s HALF THE COUNCIL. Meaning, if new blood shows up with ideas, backbone, and the ability to use email, we might actually see a shift. Or—more likely—we’ll get another round of the same old names, musical-chairing their way back into office through the default system we’ve accidentally normalized.
🎙️ Morning Announcements from the Void™
Before we dive deeper, let’s do a little housekeeping—because, apparently, the drama’s not just in the council room; it’s in the Facebook comment section, too. 🫠
If you read my earlier post where I proudly declared, “I don’t block people!” — plot twist! I’ve had to go back on that.
Here’s the tea: If you don’t moderate drama in your comment section, Facebook’s algorithm may label your group as one that promotes hate.
And the source of that drama? It didn’t come from regular readers asking questions about potholes. Oh no. It came from some folks who gave off strong ‘connected to power’ energy, one person who really didn’t appreciate being mentioned, and someone else who approached community leadership with the vibe of a high school hallway monitor who just discovered Facebook comments.
So yeah. Some folks got blocked. Not because they disagreed with me. But because they couldn’t disagree without turning it into a spectacle. And I like my chaos organized.
Also, to my loyal readers: You’re the algorithm heroes. Every time you like, comment, share, or even just tap something out of spite, it boosts visibility. So, sprinkle some love (or salt) if you want the chaos to keep coming.
🧭 So… How Did We Get Here?
Honestly? We defaulted. Too few candidates. Too many appointments.
In the last several years, a majority of our council wasn’t elected at all. They were appointed. Like jury duty, but with more cat trap debates and less honor.
Now, let me be clear: Appointments are legal. When a seat opens and no one runs, the council can fill it. No shady backroom conspiracy is required.
But when appointment becomes the default instead of the exception, that’s when the system starts to rot a little. It becomes a closed loop, where the same handful of people just keep nominating each other in an endless game of municipal Duck, Duck, Goose.
And unless you’re already in the loop, it’s nearly impossible to break in.
That’s not just a flaw—it’s a warning sign that defeats the purpose of being a democracy.
And no, before anyone in the comments pulls out the ol’ “Actually, America is a republic” speech like last time I used the word democracy—yes, thank you, Captain Constitution. America is a constitutional republic. But that doesn’t mean we don’t rely on democratic systems like voting, accountability, and public participation.
You know... the things that give people a say in who gets to manage their water bill, fix their roads, or blow their budget on twelve extra street signs.
🎭 The Council Casting Call: Who Gets the Clipboard?
Let’s talk reality. The council isn’t supposed to be a closed-door book club where you only get invited if you know the secret handshake.
It’s supposed to be a space for representatives of the people. People with different backgrounds. Different ideas. Hopefully, some basic budget literacy.
But what we have instead?Feels more like a friend group that got handed the keys to the HOA golf cart and just kept joyriding.
And when the same few names rotate through positions—mayor, council, rinse and repeat—it creates a vibe. And not a good one. It tells people:
Don’t bother running. You’re not one of us. Don’t come to meetings. We won’t take you seriously. Don’t ask questions. That’s a civil issue. (This is the favorite excuse when someone doesn’t want to answer or deal with an uncomfortable issue.)
It’s exhausting. And it’s also exactly why people check out.
🏡 Democracy or… HOA with a Gavel?
At this point, the whole thing feels less like a functioning local government and more like an overpowered neighborhood HOA—complete with infighting, secrets, and just enough legal gray area to make you side-eye the village solicitor.
(Who, by the way, serves the village government, not you or any single person holding office. So unless you pay for your own lawyer, good luck challenging anything. And rumor has it, even having your own attorney isn’t always enough to get them to follow the law when they don’t feel like it. Go figure.)
There’s a reason more people don’t attend council meetings. It’s not laziness. It’s not apathy.
It’s because they’ve watched what happens when someone dares to speak up:
You get talked over.
You get dismissed.
And in some cases? You get harassed, threatened, or turned into a public spectacle.
Just ask literally anyone who’s questioned a council decision in the past five years.
So yeah. If the village feels quiet? It’s not because people don’t care. It’s because we’ve made it unsafe to care out loud.
✨ But This Year... There's a Glimmer
We’ve got four seats open. One is still empty. And only one current member who was actually voted in.
The others? All appointed. Not saying that makes them bad people. But it does make the whole setup feel like a group project where nobody asked for volunteers, and now we’re stuck with whoever wandered in last.
But hey—what if someone new steps up? Someone who wants to actually study the laws, understand grants, talk to people, and not create policy based on personal beef?
What if we finally break the cycle?
Of course, there’s always Option B: Nobody runs. The existing members stay. Someone points out the still-empty seat. And boom—another appointment.
Same stage. Same cast. Same slightly cringey meetings that feel more like a bar hangout where nobody brought the budget spreadsheet.
📊 Final Stats for the Nerds in the Back:
4 council seats up this year
1 seat still vacant
1 person on council was actually elected
Countless appointments over the past few years
And a whole village of people watching, waiting, and wondering if anyone new will take the leap
🧠 Disclaimer
This blog is based on my personal opinions, experiences, and observations—compiled from public meetings, conversations, public records, and the occasional chaos gremlin whispering in the wind.
It’s not a court document. It’s not the gospel. But it’s also not fake. Adding a disclaimer doesn’t mean I made anything up. It means I’m not about to get sued because someone misunderstood what the First Amendment does.
Yes, I’m aware that some things on the blog or social media page still need updating now that I’ve figured out where this thing is going. Contrary to local legend, I am not an unemployed conspiracy theorist—I’m a very busy woman with a full plate, a coffee habit, and zero interest in babysitting fragile egos.
I’ll get to it when I get to it.
Until then:👉 Do your own research.👉 Question everything.👉 And stop pretending every critique is an attack on your legacy.
If you disagree with something? Great. Write your own blog. It’s actually really fun. All you need is Wi-Fi, some strong opinions, and a functional spine.
And to those still confused how a woman with a keyboard, a caffeine addiction, and a working brain can keep stirring the pot this hard?
Just wait. I haven’t even turned the burner up yet.
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