fiction

And now for something completely different …

/ IlanaB / 1 Comment

***This is a work of fiction.  Mostly.***

INTERIOR, Oval Office

[Side view of Donald Trump staring out the window. He turns to face the camera.]

Yup. I’m still here. I know. I can’t believe it either. I mean, seriously, what does it take to get kicked out of this office?

Look. I know how I got here. America was mad at Washington and voted to shake things up. But I’m not sure you all planned for a tsunami.

I get it: elect someone who is famous for being famous and says things that you like to hear. “Drain the swamp!” But, folks, being president is supposed to be public service. Serve the public? Come on. I don’t even serve dinner.

How hard could it be to be president? Say stuff. Sign stuff. Shake hands and stuff. Being president is tougher than I thought.

I wanted out, like, A. S. A. P.

So I brought in massively unqualified people for Cabinet positions, and the turnover is insane, no stability at all. Absolutely no one should be surprised that I fire a lot of people, I mean, I’m famous for firing people (“You’re FIRED!” HA!). And I like to do it via Twitter because it’s so disrespectful and headline-grabbing.

I thought surely giving top secret information to the Russian ambassador would get me out of here. I mean, even Dersh thought it was pretty bad (although not criminal!). Nope.

I’ve met with Putin and Kim Jung Un. But there are no notes of our meetings. Is that any way to run official diplomacy? Apparently, it doesn’t bother anyone enough to get me the hell out of here.

I’ve said on many occasions that the world was laughing at us for paying for everything. I meant laughing figuratively. With me in office, they are literally laughing. On camera. At my expense. And unfortunately, at your expense too. After all, you elected me.

Well, to be totally accurate, I gamed the system. I said the Electoral College is rigged and my team used it to our advantage. It’s not rocket science, folks. Get a bunch of small population rural states to vote just a little bit more Republican and they’re in your pocket. A few big Democratic states aren’t going to beat that. So lose the popular vote and win the election.

Speaking of which. There’s that saying “show me your friends and I’ll tell you who you are.” The friends who got me elected are in jail. To be honest, you’ll never prove my hands are dirty on this one. If you watch enough TV (and I do), they always say, “Follow the money.” There’s no money. It’s all loyalty. Remember the Teflon Don? The only reason they finally got him was someone turned on him who had nothing to lose. Everyone I know has something to lose.

I think some Americans might like that I tweet all the time. You feel like I’m talking to you personally. I talk like you (the best words!). I make typos like you (unpresidented).  I make dumb mistakes like you do (why is Kansas City in Missouri?).

But did you forget my administration no longer has White House press briefings? Going on a year now. I control the message. I control the time, the place, the questions. I’ve called the press “the enemy of the people.” You know who loved that phrase? Stalin. And still. It’s not enough to get me out of here.

Speaking of my communication: I lie. A lot. I lie casually. “Hey, Janice, that skirt is so slimming!” (Not really.) “Hey, Jim, thanks for the feedback on the report.” (Not a single useful comment.) “Mexico is paying for the wall.” (Hardly.) Article II of the Constitution says “I can do anything I want as president.” (You probably haven’t read it, so you wouldn’t know.)

Why don’t I resign? Good question. Well, you know, I still love America. America has been good to me. I couldn’t be The Donald in any other country. Even if I’m not a leader by any stretch of the imagination, I feel a duty (if I can use that word) to roll back the carpet and show Americans that their apathy and ignorance have created a government of self-interested politicians looking to the next election rather than leaders who represent their constituents’ interests and serve the public that elected them.

I mean, come on. I was impeached, acquitted in the Senate, and then went on a vindictive firing spree (“You’re fired!” So much fun!). And I’m still here because your representatives in Congress can’t or won’t take action outside their party line. If they represent you and what you want for America, then they’re doing their jobs. But if they aren’t, get them out of there. The US government is not WWF Smackdown. Congresspeople should not be sinking to my level and crafting snarky one-line zingers. That’s not leadership, and it’s not the business of governing.

My sitting in this office is proof that the system is broken. Kowtowing to the party is proof that the people in Washington are not representing you or trying to make your life better; they are just sitting around collecting a salary and resting on their popularity in their home state. Electing more people like me will not fix the government; ignoring it won’t solve anything either.

Somebody – I don’t know who – said: All it takes for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing. So if you sit on your ass on election day moaning about how your vote doesn’t matter, then the next four years of bad government are on you. You don’t just vote for a president, you vote for your representatives and senators. You live in a state, a county, and a town. The less you pay attention, the worse it’s going to be. Are the people running the country/state/county/town those who want to make it better for everyone? Or are they banking on winning a popularity contest for a salary and benefits?

I can see that nothing I do will get me out of here. I’m begging you voters: Get me out! I hate it here.

Democrats, I’m counting on you. Get your freaking ducks in a row. Get a candidate. Support that candidate. Vote. Remind your friends and family to vote. Do your civic duty!

If you don’t, four more years of this are on you personally. You’re going to see more taxpayer money stuffed into Mar-a-Lago’s (ok, my) pockets. Be thankful I’m golfing and not working. Who knows what other crazy stuff I’ll do at the office to try to get out of this awful job?

And I have to do all this dumb stuff every day so that you’ll pay attention. You’re tired of it? So am I! But you have to admit, you didn’t pay this much attention to Washington until I got here. You’re welcome, America!

[Trump picks up the phone.]

Yeah. Fire up the chopper. I’m on the way.

[Trump looks back at the camera.]

I gotta go. I’m gonna yell some nonsense at the reporters. I love how they run around on the lawn. It’s the only joy in my day.

(In case you forgot how the circus was supposed to work…)

 

 

Hunkering down

/ IlanaB / 4 Comments

While I’m sure other stuff has been happening around the world, the last couple of weeks in Israel and the United States have been crazy.

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How we deal with it at my house

In the US, we had a blue wave in the House, more firings in the White House, CNN had a stand-off with the president, the president popped over to France, and major elections had recounts.

In Israel, the apathy of the citizens of Jerusalem was staggering – the new mayor won by about 6,500 votes in a city with a population of 865,000 with only 30% of eligible voters voting. Israel is defending its citizens against attacks by Gazan rockets (460 rockets over several days from Gaza into Israel), but now there is a cease-fire. However, the defense minister stepped down, which rocked the delicate coalition, and that may bring about national elections.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

“Truth is stranger than fiction.”

Yeah? I’ll have some of that fiction now, please.

The nice thing about fiction is that it’s clean and all the boring unimportant bits are taken out. You don’t have to waste your time on details that don’t push the story along. Real life has just too much stuff going on and you don’t know what’s really important or which way to look.

I’m a fan of thrillers, mysteries, police procedurals, and I’m not averse to vigilantes with strict internal moral codes. At the moment, my fictional world is making a lot more sense than real life. But I do need fiction that makes me think. I need a theory or a particular worldview to chew on.

A few weeks ago, a British show called Strangers caught my attention. A few of the main characters are British, but it was filmed in Hong Kong with Chinese actors speaking Chinese (scenes with subtitles!). My original thought about reviewing this series was to point out that Britain is now getting in on the Asian drama wave. But I’m going to take it in a different direction.

What I loved about this show was that it was filled with twists and turns I didn’t see coming. I know the usual tropes, so I really appreciate a show that keeps you guessing. For instance, here is a synopsis of the first fifteen minutes: A woman is driving while crying on the phone. She’s hit by a truck. A self-satisfied professor starts his lecture and is pulled out of the lecture hall to be told his wife has died in a car accident. He’s afraid of flying, but goes to Hong Kong to identify his wife’s body and bring her back to England. He sees a man holding a picture of his wife. Who is this man? None other than her Chinese husband who she’s been married to for the past 20 years.

Say what? I’m hooked. And it goes on like that for eight episodes: an unexpected twist every fifteen minutes or so.

I won’t spoil it for you. The unraveling of the mystery is very well done; I enjoyed the meandering pace.

What made me think, though, was a nearly throwaway line in the first minutes of the show. The smug professor wrote a book called Do Nations Exist? The brown-nosing student says “Nations are imagined; they only exist in our minds.” The professor answers, “Surely a group of people claiming to be a cohesive whole is, at best, a lie agreed upon.”

You can watch the whole show without ever thinking about this line ever again. However, given the events of real life, you might see that the story shows you the answer. Our professor leaves his ivory tower and arrives in a dirty, dark, smoggy Hong Kong. He finds that everything he thinks is true is not, everything he expects in the world is upside-down, and all of his British cultural touchstones have no meaning in Hong Kong. He expects the police to help, they don’t. He expects the British consular officers to help, they don’t. He thinks the Chinese husband is working against him, he isn’t. Then there’s the journalist, the university friend, the activist, the refugee, the Triad gangster, the conglomerate owner, the British consul, the hotel manager – no one is who they appear to be. And what about the elections in Hong Kong? There are protests and the usual rumors and power plays. But how does it fit in? (As I mentioned, nothing is introduced that isn’t important. It’s clean and we know where to look, even if it might be misdirection on the part of the writer.)

It’s possible that the important bit of the line is “a lie agreed upon.” When you hold up the mirror of fiction to real life, you might find that everything you think is true isn’t. All your expectations are baseless. Your interactions in the world go awry because you are a stranger in a strange land.

But then why throw in nations at all? Do they exist? Well, I suppose it depends on who you ask. If you are inside, then they don’t – or don’t have to. If you are outside, then they most assuredly do.

As for me, for the moment, I prefer to stay in my fictional world that makes some kind of sense. Real life is just too crazy right now.

Here’s the opening of Strangers

And a quick teaser