President Akhenaten

Falling through the universe at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

Take a moment and sit quietly to clear your head. Meditate and reflect upon what it must be like to work at the White House under the Cheeto bandito. You know that picturesque Norman Rockwell image of working for the President of the United States. The high honor, your mother will be so proud.  Versus the reality of trying to play cards during a plane crash.  I hear dot matrix printers and jammed copy machine alarms going off while a woman weeps quietly at her desk in the corner. Men yelling and papers being thrown. Terrible coffee and half-gallon bottles of cheap whiskey in desk drawers. A triage unit for Custer’s Last Stand.  The New Edsel by Donald Trump.

This is it; you’ve reached the top you’re working for the President of the United States. And as long as you move and suck air you will never be allowed to forget it. You’ll wear this administration like a tattoo or a scarlet letter T and people will whisper about it behind your back. “Their career was really going places and then, well, you know.” Didn’t you play for the 1962 Mets? You were in that play. Wait don’t tell me I’ll think of it… “Springtime for Hitler!” You’re riding high on the world’s largest flaming cow pie ever seen in history! Coming in for a soft landing at 3,000 miles an hour. You’re a bug on the highway and here comes a windshield.

Tell us about yourself. “I worked as an attorney in Bill Barr’s Justice Department and I,” Next! “ You don’t understand, I’m perfectly qualified, and I really need this job!” No one doubts your ability to drive the animal control truck. It is just, we hold our drivers to a higher standard and think stray dogs deserve better.

Sometimes in the hustle and bustle of everyday life funny, little things happen, and we miss them due to a pandemic, a moron, or an economic emergency. Like stopping to smell to the roses they make us smile and brighten our day.  The only country with which the State Department can point to and smile a crooked little smile is North Korea. A boy and his dictator. Thousands gather around the eight television sets in North Korea waiting for the power to come back on. So that they might see their grand and despicable ruler strut the stage with the President of the United States.

The United States gains nothing North Korea gains legitimacy. But after the snap shots the ceremonial toasts and press conferences it’s all over. The Korean dictator tweaks the President’s nose, and the President says, “I think he likes me.” The State Department anxious for a booty call had been asking North Korea for more talks. The Koreans answered by placing explosives inside the building where meetings had been held and blowing it up! “What you think? You get picture now?”

Imagine, you’re working in Mike Pompeo’s State Department. The President’s record on foreign visits are only overlooked because of the massive failures of his domestic appearances. Whether it’s an ill-fitting Tux from Bob’s House of Fashion and Auto Repair or publicly kissing Putin’s ass in Helsinki. He has insulted rebuffed or thrown up in the punch bowl of every major country in the world not including Russia of course.

But it has reached the point where the world doesn’t want to talk to us any more about anything. They couldn’t get the Generalissimo of East Butfuckistan on a plane if they promised him Disney Land. Get a government job they said, work on foreign policy they said. Your job is to promote the United States to our neighbors abroad and in just three and a half years crickets chirp in the halls of the State Department as dust settles on the desks, Someone check and see if the phone is still working.

Someday when they can find a piece of marble flawed enough or maybe contaminated bronze from a nuclear waste dump, we can build the Trump monument to failure. The Cheeto riding backwards on a horse in a Klan robe. On that most glorious of edifices the simple inscription “Trade Wars are easy to win!” Underneath it, “Paid for by the blood of a thousand farmers.” The Cheeto might be the first President to have their presidential Library combined with a minimum-security correctional facility. “Yes, I was looking for information about Paul Manafort.” You mean Pauly? He’s right over there, I’ll get him for you. The first presidential library filled to the brim with tell all books about corruption and crime. Do we really need all sixty-four crayons to draw this picture?

We are civilians this is easy for us this is Rowan and Martin’s Laugh in. Like watching the Three Stooges change a lightbulb. It’s not our career, we didn’t spend four years in college only to end up standing watch on the SS Captain Crunch. To be affiliated with the most defective administration in American history and fast rising on the charts worldwide.

We are in virgin paper, there are no more valid recent comparisons to other failed administrations. They are all alone and unique without a single saving grace. Hitler built the Autobahn. Mussolini made the trains run on time and Trump drank a glass of water one handed, he was orange and cruel.

Way back in the nineteenth Century archaeologist found a bust in the sands of Egypt and no one could figure out who it was. Turns out it was the Pharaoh Akhenaten. Around 1350 BC the Pharaoh decreed all gods to be false except for the sun god Aten. He then changed his name to Akhenaten or “of great use to Aten.” Convenient wasn’t it? His reign was so successful that his descendants removed all traces of him from the historical record. That meant removing statues chipping his name from walls and stone tablets as the Egyptians had no delete button. It is funny in a perverse sort of way that sometimes history repeats itself so precisely, that you can see the future and have no need over further explanation. I understand President Akhenaten from his giant bird headdress right down to his leather sandals.

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