Today we are pleased to have Tom Friedman as a guest columnist.* Or DO WE? Because he’s writing one of those crazy columns where he takes on the voice of some other prominent politician writing a letter! Actually, it’s two voices!
Here is an excerpt from correspondence between Winston Churchill and Barack Obama about the unwinding campaign of Anthony Weiner. —T.F.
Dear President Obama,
’ello, gov’nor! Actually it’s ’ello, President, isn’t it? Wot wot! Cheerio! It is I, Winston Churchill, writing through a time machine to comment on the New York mayoral race. That Weiner really stepped in it, didn’t ’e? You might think that, world leader to world leader, talking via interdimensional correspondence and all the blimey crazy goin’ on in the world and wot wot that I’d ’ave more important things to talk about than the peccadillos of a New York City perv-olitician (I made up that word, got a bleedin’ trademark from beyond the grave, I do!), but in fact it speaks to me favorite concept, that the world is flat! I knew it all the way back in 1932, I did I did!
See, Weiner needed to outsource his sexual needs . In the olden days, wot wot, he’d go to the knocking-shop in the ol’ red-light district. But today we’ve got the Internet, and the whorehouse is now the WORLD house. He can be shacking up with willing ladies from India, China, wherever, because the world is flat. An’ it’s all ones and zeros, it is, so no syphilis for Weiner’s old boy!
I know what you’re thinking. “WHAT?” (Wot wot.) You’re sayin’ “What’s this ol’ Brit know about the Internet?” Let me assure you, if I can send time-machine letters from beyond the grave, I get the Internet. Everything in the afterworld is run on computers, it is. Bit like being in ’ell.
Dear Prime Minister Churchill,
I agree with everything you’re saying. The world is flat. We can eat dates from Madagascar and kiwi from China using a fork made from a three-dimensional printer. What used to be the information age is now the infor-ACTION age. The banana peel we used to throw out the window is now coming out of the trapdoor in the middle of the floor! Watch out you don’t slip on it, or overlook the opportunity it presents, because some kid in India is going to turn that peel into the next iPhone!
I also think that the Nobel Prize should be awarded to the military. The Egyptian military! But enough about international matters, because now it’s the opposite of what Tip O’Neill said: All politics isn’t local, all locales are global! Which is why Anthony Weiner was foolish to apologize for his online sexting, and especially foolish to act like it was all behind him. He should have said he was outsourcing his sex life, increasing efficiency so he could do more work at home. He’s a sexual entrepreneur.
Actually he’s an AUNT-repreneur, because more and more women are on the cutting edge in local/global flatworlding. It’s our daughters, our sisters, and our parents’ sisters who are paving the way for a greener, more connected world, even if some of them are doing it by typing out sexual scenarios (I call them sexnarios) for guys like Weiner. Okay, he can’t be an AUNT-repreneur, because he’s almost certainly a guy. Like everybody else in the world, I’ve seen his penis. It’s like Tip O’Neill would have said, “All penis is global.”
President Barack Obama
Dear President Obama,
I bleedin’ agree with everythin’ you’re sayin’! The walls ’ave come down an’ we’re all dancin’ naked in each other’s livin’ rooms, so we all better be gettin’ cybertans! The new economy is the grew economy is the green economy is the penis economy. The subtext of the sex text is the pretext for me prix fixe! Only the sex-texters will be able to edit the next draft of ’istory. The only thing that isn’t flat is me trousers!
By the by, don’t worry, I was never upset about you returnin’ me bust. Glad to see you’re ’ip to the flatglobularity of the world. Now all you’ve got to do is use the power of leadership to get your political opponents to pass legislation they have no interest in passin’. It’s called leadership. Maybe it was easier when there were a bunch o’ bleedin’ Nazis tryin’ to conquer the island. Fight the Nazis or die? No bloody argument there, mate. Maybe you need some Nazis. Wotwotever, just use your leadership powers to get them to pass an immigration bill, right? It’s a cause dear to me heart. You know how I love the golliwogs.
*Meta to the meta. Take THAT, John Barth!