A Family Portrait (of betrayal, politics, and greed)

"One can make this generalization about men: they are ungrateful, fickle, liars, and deceivers, they shun danger and are greedy for profit; while you treat them well, they are yours. They would shed their blood for you, risk their property, their lives, their children, so long, as I said above, as danger is remote; but when you are in danger they turn against you."
-- Niccolo Machiavelli

Ain't that the truth?

A Family is is like a valuable painting. Portraits/ pictures have a way of lying, much like da Vinci's Mona Lisa. For like every other portrait, it has a hidden story to tell. And like everything else in this world, it is not immune to the forces of nature. Beneath its veneer of perfection, time will play its part in eating away at the portrait's overall beauty. Dust, humidity and age will contribute to the irreparable damage... without proper care, the portrait will rot. Much like a family: without real affection, communication, understanding, and teamwork. Time will take its toll on them during times of adversity. When that happens, whatever bond that was there, will be severed.
I say this without a trace of hatred or spite- we are not a family any more, we are merely individuals who conveniently live in the same house and share the same last name.
We are a huge family after all, yep, a huge family who loves to wage war against each other over... hmmm... politics? money? BOTH!!!.
I suppose I should say "relatives" rather than family, since the 5 of us, my parents, my brother, sister, and moi- we don't actually enjoy this rather ridiculous war of the words, regrettably, we just get dragged into it.
I'm not going to tell the whole sordid tale of the power struggle and greed lust that has become the obsession of my other relatives. I am merely going to state it in fairly simple terms that I am sick and tired of all this merde! (yes, I am swearing in French, it's less vulgar for those who have no idea what it means)
I have been a witness to the most appalling things that in a way has made me this raving cynic when it comes to clutching onto the hope of finding some "good" things/people left in the world. I mean, how can you trust other people when you can't even trust the individuals in your own family (relatives)? How insane is that?

What is it about this war on politics? As my late grandfather would say: "Politicians make the wrong things in life seem right. The crooked, straight. and lies into truth" something like that. Now that guy was a saint. Well, in my humble opinion- he was a saint. I really don't get it, how could a wonderful man have such power hungry siblings? maybe not all his siblings, and here's another thing, their own offspring have that same hunger for power... Is that a genetic mutation of some sort or have these individuals become tainted by the perverse forces of the world? The latter seems like a more logical explanation than the former, I suppose.
I do not hate my relatives, I actually pity them. I have realized that money is not the most important thing in the world. True, it gives you power and it buys you a lot of things, but it also eats at your soul- in such a way that you want MORE, MORE, MORE.
Not a lot of people become so corrupt when they have money, but it is quite a sight to see the individuals who let their wealth seep into their egos. Individuals who behave like peacocks flaunting their wealth, strutting around like the world should marvel at them in their glittery garb.
There was a time when we struggled financially about 2years ago. I sat in our living room and it was pitch black, why? we didn't get to pay the electricity bill. We lived for 3 days in constant darkness. I didn't mind, what troubled me was our other relatives who lived a floor below us and the others who lived nearby didn't even bat an eyelash at us. Nobody ran to the rescue save for one Uncle. I wasn't mad, it just taught me that there are just individuals who are apathetic and well, selfish. Now, of course the tables have turned, these individuals love to run to us for help. I really don't mind helping them. I just get this little treacherous voice in my head that relentlessly chants "where the h*ll were you when we needed you?". But then, we help anyway. Not because we want them to OWE us a favor or for us to receive any kind of GENEROSITY award- we just want to HELP, because that's what the great Eddie C. taught my mother. That is what my parents instilled in us, to help others in need regardless if they deserve it or not, regardless if we won't get anything out of it. The act should always be genuine sans regret or begrudging the whole thing.
Here's the funny effect though, in the case of Ivan Pavlov, he conditioned his dogs to salivate when they hear the bell ring- it's a psych thing (search: Classical Conditioning). Anyway, in our case, we have CONDITIONED our relatives to beg (I'm still figuring out the root stimulus that causes them to beg).
Again, I bear no hatred or bitterness towards my relatives. What for right? Truthfully, right now I'm damned pleased with myself. I just graduated College and well, nobody is going to rain on my parade!
This whole rant session is long overdue anyway. This is years and years of pent up frustrations. I thought I buried it long ago, but the events following last October's local elections has roused the bloody beast- and well, the relatives are at it again with their mud throwing. SERIOUSLY can't we all just get along?
How do you change rotten people? I remember the Ghost of Christmas Past, Present and Future in Charles Dicken's 'A Christmas Carol' who appeared to compel a rotten Ebenezer Scrooge to change did the trick. Hmmm... do we have a ghost of Past, Present and Future elections? cause if there was such a thing, I'd like it to visit some of my relatives and scare the Ebenezer Scrooge out of them. Bah Humbug to reality. Tis true, reality bites!
I wish to appeal to the better nature of my relatives. Speak to them. Pick their brains or at least throw Freud at them and go "How do you feel?".
My intention was never to offend anybody through this little rant fest. Okay, I'm sure some sensitive people will think "Where did I get the cajones (balls) to write this?" other than being the spawn of my mother? I've got balls and then some!
This is my Catharsis my dear relatives (if some of you happen to read this) deal with it. I don't want to pay for therapy so this will have to do .