In the distance, clouds gather, darken, roil. A storm is growing, gathering strength from the heat of the surface rising and mixing with the cold air in the upper atmosphere. It is a terrible sight, so much energy concentrated into such a brief, violent burst of destruction.
It reminds me of America right now.
Waves of protesters whose only goal is to be left alive smashing into waves of protesters who refuse to wear a mask, and in between are groups of armed men whose only goal seems to be walking around with guns. What can we do about it? I don’t know.
Nobody knows, or they would have done something about it already.
What the country really needs is somebody who won’t make things worse. That’s me. I promise you I won’t do enough to make anything worse.
People in Detroit/Chicago/Atlanta know best how to deal with Detroit/Chicago/Atlanta problems. Oh sure, if they come to me and say “Tim, we need your help.” I’ll be happy to help, I’ll hire the best caterers, and rent the finest halls and we’ll have some meetings and some food and hammer out some solutions over bagels and cream cheese, cheese pastries and donuts. Well-fed people are much more likely to come to mutually beneficial agreements.
“Oh, Tim,” they will say, “thank you.”
That’s right, they can call me by my first name. You can call me by my first name. I work for you, after all.
It would sound ridiculous for my employers to call me by my work title, Mr. President. Imagine, “Hey, Mr. Sawman, can you cut this brick to a length of 6 inches?” or “Hey, Mr. Warehouseman, can you walk over to location 7c89a and get a pressure fitting for a dynamic multi-dimensional thermocoupler?”
No, you can just call me Tim.
When I say you can call me I mean you can call me. I will give you my office phone number and you can just ring me up and we’ll talk about your problems.
“Tim, I’d really like to get a job at the Chicken Hut.” I’ll drop everything and call the owner/manager/head of personnel at Chicken Hut and put in a good word for you. Hey, I’m president, my word has to count for something.
Let’s assume, unfairly I’m sure, that you don’t want a job, not a real job anyway. I’ll call Hollywood and see if I can get you a gig on a reality show. If that isn’t your style I’ll see what we can do about landing you a cabinet position in my administration. Let’s face it, you can’t be any less qualified than I am.
I will be the jobs president. We will get America working, together.
These are the same principles I will apply to foreign policy. Chicken Huts everywhere, employees, meals, benefits, to the masses. Food, jobs, reality television, those are the things that solve problems. There wouldn’t be any problems if everybody was well fed, had someplace to hang out and talk about The Titan Games for eight hours a day. I will work(?) tirelessly to bring quality programming, fast food and living wage employment to the world. After I bring it to America, of course.
If this appeals to you, let me know, my list of endorsements is getting longer all the time. I just picked up the backing of my niece Jannelle, and Alice Cooper (not really, my niece Jannelle endorsed me but Alice Cooper hasn’t, yet).
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