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The Story of a Dog who Became President.
The year is 2036. Driverless cars are ubiquitous. Climate change has been largely addressed by technologies like carbon capture and a shift toward renewable energy. Also, a dog is about to be sworn in as President. This is the story of that dog. The President. Of the United States.
This is a wholly atypical entry into the Pesca Profundities oeuvre. Please bear with us. We also welcome your reaction.
The law of unintended consequences isn’t a law, so much as an excuse for pessimists to say,” I told you so!” I never bought it as a law, I never even subscribed to it as a truism. I always thought sometimes bad things happen and sometimes they don’t, but when they do, we have a phrase for it.
Then I consider the 29th amendment. That piece of legislation was sound, necessary and an ICBM of unintended consequences.
I feel I have to write all of this down on paper, for myself, for anyone who may one day be ignorant of what happened. I know they say that nothing can ever be wiped from the Helyezphere. They also said that about the Blockchain, remember that debacle? Therefore, I refer back to sentence one about unintended consequences. This could all be lost, but must be remembered. Future generations take note.
The 29th Amendment
After the jailing, pardoning, and re-jailing of the President back in the 20’s, congress acted. They drafted the text to a constitutional amendment and the states, keen to clarify the issue and avoid any future constitutional crisis, ratified the measure in record time. It read:
No Person shall serve in Federal office, including the office of the President of the United States, while under the penalty of imprisonment as imposed by any State or Federal court.
Seems clean, even if it we didn’t need it for a while. After living through the nightmare of a jailed president, America wasn’t eager to elect anyone who so much as flirted with illegalities. That lasted two Presidential election cycles. Then came Senator Philpot, the hit-and-run, the bombshell driver-override evidence, the trial, and the clear incompetence of his running mate Ambassador Tinkins. The party was at a loss. The problem was that so many of the Democrats had exposed themselves to prison terms because of their association with Philpot’s scheme. They needed a nominee who would be popular, carry the party’s message, and most importantly, not run afoul of the constitution. Hands were wrung and brows furrowed as party leaders examined the text of the amendment over and over again. An amendment which began with the words “No Person…”
As this was consuming the political world the TsaiZusk/Institute-Qatar had finally perfected their human consciousness transfer procedure. It was the story of the year, knocking Philpot’s crimes off the front screen of Helyez. A talking dog! And not just talking, with degrees from Yale Divinity School, Scalia Law, and an MBA from Wharton, he was conversant, caring, intellectual, and most importantly to both females 34-55, and men over 6o, a Very Good Boy. Though a political novice, it was clear he shared all the values of the party, and more importantly, appealed to independents like no candidate ever had before. The move was obvious.
Your Democratic Nominee
He had all the right instincts, when to console with a nuzzle, when to instruct with a flow chart, and could code switch effectively, barking loudly to comic effect at the State of the Union, and dressing down hostile Senators in congressional hearings: “Take it from a non-human, your inhumanity to the downtrodden knows no bounds!” He played equally well to all crowds, overwhelming editorial boards with intellect, while really hounding it up on talk shows or comforting sick children just by putting his head in their laps. Even his name polled through the roof.
McWaffles, “Please call me Bacon”, he’d adorably say, had such a great nose, not just for politics, but for connection, and also cancer, which came in handy when he prompted a confrontational Newsmax interviewer to get a mole checked out. There was something about him (mostly that he was a dog) which leveled differences and reached across constituencies. The comics made all the usual jokes that with another candidate would lead to defensiveness, or charges of insensitivity. But with McWaffles no offense was taken. Leg humping humor? McWaffles does the paw over the eye move. A crack about fleas? McWaffles beats the comic to the punchline, adding a bit involving hilariously exaggerated scratching. Licking up one’s own vomit? McWaffles turns it around to delicately suggest thats how the Repubclians chose their ticket. As he was making his case America seemed more loose, less agitated. We were all spared from not having to compare the personas of the Republican nominee vs. the Democratic nominee. One was a guy, one was a dog. We like dogs.
Without much fuss the Supreme Court approved the plan. Of course, now at 27 members after the 4th re-packing, it wasn’t clear they were even reading the briefs. The partisan breakdown of the court all but guaranteed a win, and the fact that more than half of the Republican-appointed justices were dog owners explained the final lopsided vote.
Leading up to late summer McWaffles barely put a poor paw forward. He parried innuendo with wit. “Really, they’re implying that being neutered makes me weak? A whisper campaign like that really doesn’t take a pair if you know what I mean. And I thought I was the one who responded to dog whistles.”
The convention in late August (dog days and all that) was a masterpiece. The climactic set piece features a cascade of quotes by Democratic presidents.
FDR: “Calm Seas Never Made a Good Sailor.”
Thus cuing the stage to open revealing a 20-foot-long reflecting pool featuring a shimmering image of the Statue of Liberty.
Clinton: “There is nothing wrong with America that cannot be cured by what is right with America.”
The cheers build.
Obama: “Change will not come if we wait for some other person…”
The word “person” lingers on the screen. The crowd is nearing a frenzy.
Next we see the silhouette of McWaffles, projected from the back of the stage.
The final quote is from
Harry Truman: “If You want a friend in Washington,”
“Get a dog.”
McWaffles breaks into a run…he builds up speed…his four legs are a blur…his eyes are set strait ahead… he leaps…
At that very moment from the edge of the stage 30time Cy Young winner and transcendent Helyez motivincer Nyx Jenkins-Rodriguez arches a a red white and blue baton on the air. The nominee, fully airborne, stretches his furry body and extends his front paws until they are parallel to the reflecting pool. Not one of the 50,000 lungs in the convention dares exhale as the candidate reaches out and clutches the spinning baton in his teeth milliseconds before splashing down!
McWaffles emerges from the pool. He delivers the baton to the base of the podium and shakes off the excess water. Thousands in the crowd, familiar with this bit of theater, shake along. McWaffles jumps up on the three steps leading up to the podium and speaks.
“My Name is Bacon McWaffles. I am your friend in Washington! And I am proud to accept the nomination to be President of the United States of America!”
Later, television ratings agencies would say that more Americans saw that one moment than any piece of visualized programming including Super Bowls, the finale of M*A*S*H or Twitch-a-Thon VXII. It was a best-in-breed, best-in-group, and best-in show performance.
Bacon McWaffles was on his way.
Do You like this? I might write a Pt 2, I might just summarize the plot, I might write nothing and return to the world of the far less fanciful. Let me know the level of literary indulgence you with to experience.