GOP caucus approaches as FOS waves a white chili-stained shirt from the veranda of St. Basil’s on Main.

There are many reasons for the phenomenon that we came to know as the Cold War, the decades following WWII when capitalist and communist ideologies squared off in ravaged post-war Europe. At the behest of the American and Soviet superpowers, countries on both sides of the Iron Curtain menacingly glowered at one another while on camera, afterwards quietly adjourning to isolated chancellery back rooms to cut trade deals and exchange stylish French lingerie for superior Czech pilsner beer.

Although there was nothing intrinsically amusing about the division of the continent, certain institutionalized idiosyncrasies of the Soviet Bloc’s client state arrangement never failed to elicit a chuckle, as with the necessity of supposedly autonomous national entities to echo the USSR’s official party line when called upon to do so.

These statements invariably paid homage to the sacrifices incurred by the highly motivated workers in the forward moving vanguard of the world’s original socialist state, then added the imperative for the Bulgarian/Romanian/Polish (or other) people to join in thwarting the aims of the American-dominated capitalist system of world enslavement. Although such communiqués certainly reflected the sincere and self-preservationist positions of the reigning party elites in their countries of origin, the stylistic templates for these sentiments just as certainly originated within the sturdy brick walls of the Kremlin’s finishing school for indigenous political leadership.

As was proven in 1989 when Mikhail Gorbachev withdrew support for the Eastern European satellite regimes, the absence of direct Soviet support equated immediate disintegration of authority and the subsequent unceremonious collapse of a 40-year-long fiction. Without the power of the patron, those remaining scraps of paper attesting to comradely benevolence between peoples became candidates for the geopolitical compost pile, and were deposited there by the occupants of the last Trabant chugging toward Cologne for a new life.

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Meanwhile, back here in good ol’ irony-free New Albany, the “invisible hand” of the blogosphere is back. After a period of irrelevance during which Ms. Denhart, our colorfully non-degreed academic poseur at Freedom of Speech, could do no better than shamelessly crib Internet material without attribution and babble nonsensically about geriatric Barbie dolls, recent days have seen a sudden resurgence in topicality.

It appears that the chief FOS puppeteer, Auntie V, presently needs help in the political propaganda wars.

A crucial career-building turning point on the immediate horizon, and so Ms. Vickie’s kept-client blog is being trotted out to wheeze familiar statements of taxpayer empowerment and to bait the local GOP's elder statesmen. Of course, these are not emanating from the semi-literate collegiate pretender’s long abused word processor, but from behind the elegant stone walls of Ambition Central.

On Monday, Auntie Geppetto’s marionette contributed a lengthy recitation of political party caucus procedures, serving as ample warning for what was to follow. Typically, having droned on for multiple hastily pasted paragraphs, she arrived at the end of the posting and thanked Indiana Secretary of State Todd Rokita for the “following.” We think she meant “preceding,” although the syllabus for the grammar course at Bazooka Joe University, where she matriculated with honorable and numerous blobs stuck to the bottom of archaic schoolhouse desks, was unavailable for inspection.

Having set up her readers with an ineffectual right jab, the flaccid left hook landed yesterday, as the non-tenured anono-blogger furiously regurgitated the disgruntlement of her patron:

Freedom Of Speech would like to say to former Councilman (Ken) Keilman. Where have you been for the last 15 years? You Sir, were part of the problem in the past along with former Councilman (Dick) Bliss …

… We have had nothing but 30 years of good ole boy - screw the taxpayers, and not fix our sewers. We as taxpayers are fed up! …

… It's time for new Republican blood on our Council. Someone who can sit on the Sewer Board and demand answers!

By golly, the Vickster’s right! Kevin Zurschmiede would be a fine choice. He’s a downtown property owner, deals in real estate, knows building trades … but wait … alas, it seems that our MockroProf isn’t talking about him at all, because she continued:

And while were at it how many council meetings have the list of other candidates attended in the last 3 years?

Hmm, that’s “we’re,” Erika, and we all get the point of your forthcoming tout, but before you have the opportunity to blurt it out and butcher the grammar in the process, NAC proposes to rush into the breach and steal your thunder.

That's right: Bolovschak for temporary at-large replacement City Council person!

Sure, it’s easy for us to issue this incredible non-binding endorsement; after all, we’re not Republicans.

Moreover, we’re merely heeding the sage advice of a local political insider, who recently suggested to NAC that Ms. Bolovschak – who has filed the necessary papers to contend in Friday’s GOP selection caucus – would by far be the most entertaining choice.

In the insider’s own words, “It would be something to get us through the final year.”

Think of the Byzantine plot twists … the assumed identities … the secret midnight meetings on the K & I Bridge … the original "Mission Impossible" theme song from the 1960’s -- and that’s just the first night’s wacky action as the Conjoined Councilmen, both nominal Democrats, seek to curry favor with the well connected Cheneyesque newcomer from the GOP by donning sandwich boards and loitering outside the Bicknell.

Psst, Mr. Hancock -- think we can get a press pass to the Friday wing-ding?