Today was even weirder. He was working on, of all things, a
campaign poster. In big letters on an Illustrator worksheet were “No
Government. No Time.”
“What the hell?” I said.
“I’ve decided that you should run for political office,” he
said.
I said, “That’s crazy.”
“No,” he said. “That new senator from Texas is crazy. You
are just unstable.” He thought for a moment. “But don’t worry. I’m your campaign
manager. We’ll keep that from the public.”
He did resemble a campaign manager, I suppose. He was paunchy,
bald, and had little snaky eyes that darted back and forth like black
hummingbirds.
“You will be my campaign manager?”
“You bet. We’ll sell you to the public as the real deal. You’ll
be as popular as a whore on a troop ship.”
I had to sit down. “C.W.,” I said slowly, not knowing where
to start. “Do you know anything about politics in America?”
“All I need to know,” he said.
“Then you know that a politician has to have a spotless
past.”
“Oh please,” he said. “That is so passé. Didn’t you learn
anything along the way? We’ll use the ‘Salvation Strategy’ that worked so well
for Junior Bush.”
“The Salvation Strategy?”
“Yep. We’ll pick a date when you repented of your sinful past
and accepted salvation. Then we’ll forbid the press from questioning any aspect
of your behavior prior to that day.”
“The Salvation Strategy. I see.”
“Works like a charm. You are reborn as a politician. Now,”
he said. “We need to get you fitted for some new clothes.”
“C.W.,” I said. “Politicians have to be knowledgeable about things
like the economy and foreign relations.”
“Old-school.”
“They have to be experienced.”
“Yesterday’s paradigm.”
“They have to be charismatic.”
“Charisma is as charisma does.”
I said, “Now just what the hell does that mean?”
The difference between a politician and a bubblehead doll is simply a matter of brains. You shouldn't worry, though. You don't elect your politicians because they have intelligence. - C.W. |
“It means,” he said, with exasperation showing in his voice.
“That we can market you like the latest model of a classy car. So don’t worry.”
I don’t know why I made the effort but I did. “A politician has
to have a platform on which to base a campaign.”
“Sure enough,” he said. “And we have the most sure-fire platform there is. The one that has propelled more politicians into office over the last few years than any other.”
“And what,” I said. “Is this magic platform?”
“Are you completely clueless? Can’t you guess?”
“No,” I said. “Clue me in. What will I tell the public to
convince them to elect me to run the government?”
“Simple,” he said. “You just tell them that you hate the
government.”
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