As an American, I am very familiar with the feeling of disenfranchisement I get every elections cycle.  The two major parties field a wide variety of candidates, and methodically weed out all of the ones for which I have even an inkling of affinity.  In the end, I am left with a choice between the stupid douche and the turd sandwich.  I still technically have a choice, but my options have been severely curtailed, down to the point where the best selection criterion is which one makes me less nauseous.<p>In this case, the electorate is left with a choice between getting <i>all</i> of the multiparty treaty or <i>none</i> of it.<p>The bread is nice and springy, sliced to just the right thickness.  The lettuce, tomato, and onion are all delicious and salubrious.  The sauce is tangy, and a tiny bit sweet.  But the turd inside is vile, odorous, and steaming.  And you get the bill, and find that you <i>already paid</i> $100 for that sandwich, whether you eat it or not.<p>Now, had the public been given a chance to participate in the negotiations and debate, someone might have suggested, &quot;Hey, how about we make a sandwich that <i>doesn&#x27;t</i> have a giant, steaming turd in it?&quot;  And the designated negotiators look up, twitch their clubbed antennae, flex their mouth-parts in astonishment and horror, and brush down their shiny black carapaces with the knobby combs on their foremost pair of legs.  Then they respond, &quot;But the ball of dung is the only essential part of the whole sandwich!&quot;<p>And that&#x27;s when you realize that the world is run by dung beetles 1.8m long, who have absolutely zero understanding about why we humans don&#x27;t just squeal with delight and scarf down the poop, with gusto, whenever it is handed to us.