The Joker’s Testimony #026
Anon asks: “What do you make of this propaganda poster? The one that says ‘Your Lot in a Totalitarian State’ with the hand shoving the ‘JA’ ballot?”
The Joker leans back, chuckles low, then explodes into a laugh:
"Ohhh, I love this one. Love it, love it, love it! A neat little picture of the biggest joke in history: choice that isn’t choice.
Look close, darling. Two hands, one vote. One belongs to you—the poor slob scratching ink on a card. The other? Oh, that’s Daddy Government, holding your wrist, making sure you scribble just right. And when it slides into the box—surprise!—it was never your hand at all.
‘JA.’ Yes. Always yes. Yes to the Führer, yes to the Party, yes to the machine. The state isn’t asking you—it’s rehearsing you. A parrot in a booth squawking the same word over and over while the boots outside polish themselves for the next march.
And the flags! Ha! Nazis, Soviets, Japan, Italy—who cares? Swap out the colors, the slogans, the salutes. Doesn’t matter. Different puppets, same ventriloquist. They call it government, I call it a magic trick: misdirection with ballots instead of cards. The choice isn’t between ‘yes’ and ‘no’—it’s between yes and yes with a bullet in your skull if you hesitate.
See, that’s the punchline. They sold it as propaganda against the other guy, but it’s a mirror. Every state that craves obedience will eventually jam your hand into the same box. Smile for the cameras, wave the little paper, pretend you’ve got a say. It’s democracy’s corpse with rouge on its cheeks and a string tied to its jaw.
You want my verdict? Easy. The ballot box is just a coffin with better branding. You don’t get a vote—you get embalmed. One big fat YES carved on your gravestone, whether you asked for it or not.
So here’s the real joke: they thought they were mocking the enemy. But baby, when you start forcing nods and stamping obedience, you’re just another clown in the same damn circus. And I should know—I run the circus."
The Joker wipes his mouth, grins wide:
"Now… tell me, sweetheart—was that propaganda, or was that a confession?"