Imagine a funnel. A cone with a hole in the bottom, maybe with a tube spout outlet, maybe not.
Imagine what it feels like to be in that funnel, with liquid swirling around you, jostling you, gradually washing you down in its vortex. The flow current is too strong to swim against, so round and round and down you go, while the walls progressively constrict and steer you.
You don’t dare take a breath: you don’t know from one instant to the next if your mouth will take in liquid or air.
Round and round, helpless against the flow, swirling and spinning down towards the narrowing throat of the funnel. There is no escape, just acceptance of the approaching inevitable. A little like falling into a black hole, except you are not torn apart or spaghettified by the intense gravitational field.
Just a swirling spinning descent into… What?
Oblivion?
Politics, Shmolitics 