Last night I had the strangest dream. I was watching the presidential debate between the venerable president and his cantankerous challenger.
A month to go. Neck-and-neck. This debate could tip the race either way. One gaffe, one stumble, one stuttered word could make the difference.
Many earnest questions were asked. Many fatuous answers were given. And then came the question of presidential immunity.
How much immunity should a sitting president enjoy?
Absolute and complete immunity. No questions asked, the chippy challenger bellowed.
The president quietly asked his opponent if he really and truly believed that the president had complete and total immunity for any and all crimes committed while in office.
Absolutely. The president is immune even if he shoots someone in the middle of Fifth Avenue in broad daylight.
I don’t agree. No citizen is above the law. Ever. But because you’re never wrong, and because the Supreme Court seems to approve your every wish, I’ll happily go along with your opinion on this. Namely, while in office the president is immune from any and all crimes. Is that right?
Yes!
Okay. I get it.
Well, hooray for you! I thought a doddering codger like you couldn’t get his zi-zi-zi-zipper up. So I’m real glad you g-g-g-get this.
The president nodded, smiled, drew a gun, and shot his opponent dead.
The nation gasped.
The president shuffled off the stage, eyes ablaze. He hunted down Sean Hannity, Laura Ingraham, Tucker Carlson, Marjorie Taylor Greene, and Jim Jordan. And, alas, by the end of the morrow, behold, they were no more.
The president addressed the nation from the Oval Office, sporting a red MAGA cap like a crown.
My fellow citizens, our long national nightmare is over. America is great again. Our land has been purified of poisonous blood.
You won’t need to choose between two old decrepit white men after all. In fact, you’ll never have to choose again. Democracy wins. I will rule over you as though my rule were of the people, by the people, and for the people. Fear not. I will protect you, all of you, so help me Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
And please, don’t call me king. You can call me Joe—Uncle Joe, if you’d like.
Good night. And may God bless the United States of Amnesia.
OOPS. Sorry. I meant America.
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