Shell Shocked: The new woke

In the murky, green waters of the Florida Everglades, an unprecedented political wave is rising. The inhabitants of this vibrant ecosystem are not known for their political ambitions, but this election cycle, things have taken a turn for the bizarre. Ladies and gentlemen, the candidates running for public office are none other than — wait for it — alligators.
Yes, you heard it right. Alligators. The same creatures that have been perfecting their poker faces since the Mesozoic era. But before you scoff, let me assure you, these scaly contenders are bringing some fresh swamp water to the otherwise stagnant political pool.
Leading the charge is Al “Gator” Greene, a charismatic reptile whose campaign slogan, “In the Swamp, For the Swamp,” has become a rallying cry for his supporters. Al is no stranger to the spotlight. With a toothy grin and a tail slap that could take down a mangrove, he promises to be a force for change. His platform? Universal access to sunbathing spots, increased funding for public nesting areas, and a robust plan to address the invasive Burmese python crisis.
But Al isn’t the only one vying for a seat. There’s Carla Chompers, an outspoken advocate for swamp diversity. Her campaign is rooted in the belief that the Everglades is a melting pot of species, and every creature deserves representation — from the smallest mosquito to the largest bullfrog. Carla’s debates are legendary. She once silenced an opponent with a single, well-timed snap of her jaws, reminding everyone that when Carla speaks, everyone listens.
Then there’s the underdog, or rather, undergator, Tommy “Tiny Teeth” Thompson. Tommy’s not the biggest or the baddest gator in the swamp, but what he lacks in size, he makes up for in tenacity. His platform is all about the little guy — er, gator. Tommy advocates for fair fishing regulations and has a novel plan to clean up the swamp’s waterways using an all-natural method: more alligators. “We eat the problem,” he declares, with a twinkle in his eye that suggests he’s half-serious.
Critics, of course, have their reservations. Concerns have been raised about the candidates’ potential conflicts of interest. For instance, how can we trust Al “Gator” Greene to address the issue of human-alligator conflict fairly, given his clear bias towards his own species? And what about the logistics? How will these candidates even attend meetings or sign legislation without opposable thumbs?
But perhaps the most pressing question is: Why now? Why are alligators suddenly so interested in public office? Some theorize it’s a reaction to climate change and habitat destruction. With their homes increasingly threatened, these gators are stepping up to ensure their voices — or hisses-are heard.
Their campaigns have certainly spiced up the local media scene. The Swamp Sentinel’s recent headline, “Chomping at the Bit: Gators in Politics,” drew record readership. Talk shows are having a field day, with segments like “Snap Judgment: Analyzing the Gator Vote.” And let’s not forget the viral memes. My personal favorite? A doctored image of Al Greene in a suit and tie, holding a sign that reads, “I’m with Herpetofauna.”
Despite the humor and skepticism, there’s a poignant lesson in all of this. The alligator candidates are a reminder that democracy, in its truest form, means every voice gets a chance to be heard — even if that voice comes from a creature more accustomed to hissing and growling. And maybe, just maybe, their participation will inspire us to consider the broader implications of our policies on all inhabitants of our shared environments.
So, as election day approaches, let’s keep an open mind. Sure, their methods may be unconventional, and their policies might require some translation from swamp-speak to human law, but these gators are bringing passion and determination to the table. After all, in a world where politics often feels like a circus, why not throw in a few alligators for good measure?
In the end, whether Al, Carla, or Tommy takes the crown — or, more fittingly, the swamp throne — one thing is certain: this election will go down in history as the year the alligators decided it was their turn to rule the swamp. And who knows? Maybe they’ll do a better job than the humans ever did.
Art Stevens is a long-time columnist for the Sanibel-Captiva Islander. His tongue-in-cheek humor is always offered with a smile.