Falling through the universe at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

Attention! Please pay attention to the telescreen for this special announcement. If you had number seven, “Navy Secretary” you’re a winner! If you had number nine, “Press Secretary” you are also a winner. The quinella paid $38.80 and the exacta paid $42.50. You may pick up your winnings at the cashier’s window and thank you for playing, “Who Gets Fired Next!” A carnival shooting gallery, sitting ducks. Stealth, subterfuge, intrigue and the chance of a lifetime to line your pockets bigly. The call up from the minor leagues to the bigs. Cue Guns and Roses, welcome to the jungle.

All led by that one and only ringmaster himself. The congenial host of “Do, you Believe this Shit or What?” Mister dysfunctional himself! The orange one….Cue the lights! Cue the music!

I’m not responsible for that, that’s a nasty question. Nobody could have seen this coming! It’s gonna go away, just ride it out. I’ve got a good feeling. I’m not responsible. Somebody’s stealing, what a nasty question. I’m not a doctor, miracle drugs.

Okay big boy you’re up to the plate…work with that. Big job big responsibilities and all you have to navigate the choppy waters in the sea of Donald Trump. A yellow submarine Freudian nightmare, Alice through the looking glass on the brown acid, man. Every day is Groundhog Day. Every day like training a box of puppies or herding cats. All situations are fluid, they put your name on the office door with notebook paper and scotch tape.

Former Press Secretary Stephanie Grisham took the Ben Carson approach. Hide under your desk and don’t answer that phone! Only come out under threat of subpoena or if it makes you look good. Grisham thought it was, “How to Succeed in Business without really trying” and discovered instead, “Apocalypse Now!” Trapped between the Delta and the DMZ the Cheeto swings on his tire swing and thumps his chest. As reliable as a Crazy Eight Ball, all signs point to yes! Ask again later, Yes or No, or maybe. Or maybe yes and no at the same time. You get the Cheeto to agree to something and by the time you get the press release typed, he’s changed his mind.

Ah, they’re all so proud and fresh faced when they come in, smiling and waving to the camera. Then…it’s Jim Morrison singing, The End, hustled out the back door to a waiting car. We’ll send you your things! Father (yes son) I want to kill you. Mother, oh mother I want to…! You could try the Betsy DeVos method of intense, unrelenting and unnecessary cruelty. The boss really likes cruelty especially when it draws headlines. A true believer she’ll probably live in Argentina someday. Swapping Fuhrer stories from the Death Valley  days of the little horn.

Grisham was out sycophanted by another sycophant. You’re only as good as your last performance dear, out of sight out of mind. And you can’t brown nose them from your office. What was that girl’s name that used to work here?

Stephanie Grisham Mr. President.

And what’s your name?

It’s Kayleigh “giggle” McEnany Mr. President.

Do you work for me?

Yes sir, Mr. President.

Well, write your name on this sheet of notebook paper and stick it to that door over there that says press secretary.  

Last weeks former acting Navy Secretary got whip sawed. It not about the right thing to do. It’s about what the boss feels like doing. So, the boss fires the aircraft carrier captain and the former Acting Navel Secretary is gonna pull a DeVos and jump in on the beat down. Get a few punches in himself, show the boss he can brown nose with the best of them. Yeah, kick him when he’s down! Don’t just fire him talk trash about him in front of his crew. Custer’s famous victory speech to the Indians! It was a tough room.

And then the tide went out and the Former Acting Naval Secretary found himself grounded on the shoals of Donald Trump. Watch the flag the wind has shifted. The boss wants you to apologize for agreeing with him. This is what Acting Secretary means you dipshit! You went too far and set off the orange one’s lone brain receptor for sympathy, now apologize!

I’m sorry for jumping in on your beat down. I promise to never ever do it again for however many weeks I am in your employ.

But a broken kettle won’t hold tea and he was done. A swing and a miss! They’re sending him down to Rochester to the double AA Independent league.  The correct answer was Rumpelstiltskin. Your cup of coffee in the bigs is now officially over. Bad luck really, the chances of termination are directly inverse to the likelihood of contact with the Big Cheeto. A trained seal balancing on the ball of pleasing while increasing your chances of displeasing. A belly crawl across the muck and mire of the administration battlefield where everyone is trying to keep their jobs instead of doing their jobs.

I wonder if there isn’t a bar or a café in Washington like at the end of the novel, 1984. A dingy run-down place with Fox News playing on the telescreen. Where the former administration employees meet, a sort of VFW of the damned, the programmed and deprogrammed the chewed up and the spit out.  “We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness.” We shall play chess and drink gin and discuss the progress Big Brother is making in his war against everyone. The insane are winning you know, making great progress you know; the war will be over soon!

Attention! Please pay attention to the telescreen for this special announcement. If you would like to participate in “Who Gets Fired Next!” place your wagers at the cashier’s window now.

“Doublethink means the power of holding two contradictory beliefs in one’s mind simultaneously, and accepting both of them.”
― George Orwell

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