Playing the System

When the Powers that Be descended from the heavens and declared a random candidate be made President of the United States for a day, the people of the system knew exactly how to follow the letter of the law without giving anything up, without sullying their power.

It happened on an ordinary day, but no one really knew what it was that had happened, because politicians have a way of making everything like that. In the end, the public voice must have decided it was the President’s way of making a good image of himself, of saying, "Look at me, I’m so great, I know I’m not perfect so I proved it to you, see, I can let other people take control, I’m not a power-hungry monster at all, look how admirable I really am."

I think he even convinced himself of it. He was never very smart.

But there are a lot of people in the system who know how the system works, and they like to play it, because the system’s not very good. It allows itself to be played quite easily. It likes being played.

So they picked a random Canadian without any power, without any knowledge of US politics beyond the most rudimentary surface facts, without any idea of how to play the system, and with no desire to cause trouble. What I’m saying is, they picked me.

They also told me I couldn’t sleep for the thirty-six hours, so they definitely didn’t expect me to be able to get anything done. And my time would all be taken up answering questions on the livestream. So definitely no getting things done. But that’s what being President of the United States is anyway, right? Making an image for yourself, and not actually doing a whole lot. Unless you’re the kind who’s constantly on the brink of starting World War III.

Of course, I also happened to be starting my period that day. It really wasn’t my day.

So there I was, picked up and carried off to the States in an airplane without any say in the matter, which definitely seems illegal. I was joking about the whole heavenly powers thing, but there was definitely something weird going on. Maybe they were being blackmailed by aliens. Maybe a magical fungus had gotten into their brains. But I didn’t really feel like putting up a fuss that day (actually, I didn’t feel like doing anything other than lying around on the couch and possibly sleeping), so I didn’t bother fighting it.

When I got there I tried to find out how to actually carry out policy changes, but no one would tell me. All they did was give me coffee and show me the computer, where I could answer questions on the livestream. I hate coffee.

So people were asking me about what I was doing, while I tried to explain that I couldn’t do anything because I didn’t know how anything worked. There were also a lot of people who were all upset that I was Canadian, and I have no idea why that was their biggest problem with the whole thing, but then again I’ve never understood patriotism.

So I just started telling them all the things I wanted to do, like dismantle capitalism, and protect human rights, and defund the police, and make environmental regulations, especially on big companies, and instate gun control, and remove women’s body control, and also get rid of the government altogether and split the country into very small, self-sustaining and egalitarian societies without any hierarchies or ecological footprints. Because that was just about as doable for me right then than making the smallest, simplest little change.

And then as the day went on, and I was dying of exhaustion and my cramps had kicked in, I started ignoring the livestream altogether and just eating all the food they had given me, and asking for more, because when you can’t actually make any changes, you might as well take advantage of the free food.

So if someone ever offers you the position of President for a day, remember it’s a scam. But you will get free food.