Democratic Underground

The Honeymoon - A Letter To The 41st From The 43rd
April 17, 2001
intercepted by Linda Stout Deak

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Hi Dad,

Uncle Dick just gave me my ninety-day evaluation, a little early like we like to do things in this 43rd administration. We are really getting smooth, learned a lot from the 41st (thanks, Dad) and the disastrous 42nd.

Uncle Dick thinks I have done a great job so far. It is a miracle, Dad, that we have all three parts of the government under our firm control and the FCC and the entire Fourth Estate. I am very aware that this is part luck, part ploy. Who would have thought that the early guidance of Bill Simon (love those Secretaries of the Treasury!) would come to fruition now? All those conservative young reporters recruited, granted and nurtured two or three decades ago are sitting in very fine stead now. It is really helpful to have responsible journalism on our side. And the FCC thing was the best wedding gift of all, totally unexpected. Uncle Dick was suggesting that we add a new wing onto the White House and move the Heritage Foundation over. They are such a good support and give us great guidance and if something should happen to Dick, it would be good if they were all under the same roof. What do you think of that idea?

The only small problem is that the American people are not in the swing yet, but we will keep working on that, Dad. We do not want to let the good old American people down. And 38 percent approval is fine with me. Kind of low, but not too low. That 62 percent are probably the same people who were against impeaching the 42nd.

So Dick thinks, considering it is the first time we have had an arranged presidency, that I am perfect. He approves of the way I deflect everything with my humor. It is so true, that self-deprecatory humor is the best defense. If I have gifts, it is in that. Thanks, Dad. Probably on my genes or something. Mom is gifted there, too. Tell her hi and give her a kiss for me.

Dick marked me down on the foreign policy part of my evaluation. We have been on too much of a collision course so far. It was too many embarrassing collisions for one honeymoon. Even though I said sorry both times. But, hey, as you know, we presidents cannot keep everything under our control in control. Can we, Dad? And, there are countries still bringing up the democracy part of my election. Malaysia diplomats just wrote a letter saying we had no business asking how fair their election was. That was rude and I let them know through our diplomats. Enough of Asia. Let's get back to Europe. How can my credentials be questioned there when I am the son of a former president? Dad, are the Europeans all nuts? You know them better than I do.

The red part of the country still has not figured out that they voted against prosperity and peace. They were never keen on peace anyway, but they were beginning to cotton to prosperity. Oh well. Sometimes, I feel bad about Montana. Marc was so good those last couple of days before the appointment. Screaming about the elderly, etc. He was great. I wish I could give Montana more, but it will not work. It would not be fair to let one red state benefit while the rest are going to have to belt-tighten. We have to take it from the unprofitable farmers, if we want to reduce taxes for the rich. You know all this. I do not have to explain it to you. But, I wish, Marc's state wasn't involved. I am about ready to stick Texas in the history books. They are having a very strange reaction down there. My state. Our state. My legacy is being slammed. And they are even talking about a moratorium on the death penalty and making health programs available for all children. The deficit is making me look bad and I think they are doing it on purpose, out of jealousy or something. Oh well, can't look back now.

I do not want to just complain to you. There are some very bright spots. One of the absolute coolest pieces of news in my second letter to you is this: You know how we talked and decided that above all I was not to let sex do to my administration what it did to the 42nd? Well, we have the new dress code. Crisp. Crisp. Crisp. We are business and we are crisp. No swinging softness anywhere. We will not tolerate it. And then by another miracle, one of our biggest pharmaceutical donators, allowed us to test a new drug. It was not even named yet, but Karen came up with a good one (that lady is smart. I am so blessed to have her on my team). The new drug is sort of an opposite of Viagra and Karen thinks it should be called Gonad-Swat. Sometimes the warm-hearted fašade we are all working on makes people go a little soft and, you can feel it, I swear, Dad. You can feel the tension building or something, with all the power and happiness at being here in the White House, on top of the world, sometimes things begin to flutter.

But, if ever the atmosphere, or God forbid, a wrinkle in the clothes, gives some unhealthy attraction wings, we have this new drug to stop it right it its tracks. I have never needed it, but someone close to me did (I will not name names), and he said that it was incredible how it completely de-sexed him. And the joy and wonder of it is that he does not miss sex at all and is unafraid to pledge to never let his libido flame up again. In fact the word "kiss" leaves him nauseated and disgusted. We are not going to let sex come into play in this honeymoon or at anytime in this administration. No way, Dad. Our philosophy is going to be "One stroke and you're out."

I am so lucky. Thanks for all your under-the-table guidance and fathering. We have the exact same values calculus (Paul has some great new MBA terms). It won't be long until all the American people understand that the business way is the best way. In the meantime we are having a helluva time dismantling all those pro-environment, anti-business regulations that the 42nd put in place. They must have worked all the time.

Love to the 41st,

The 43rd

PS. Karen is going to get a huge bonus for coming up with "Gonad-Swat," but she is going to be quicker than Paul in divesting her new fortune. Don't worry. We learned.

PPS. Laura says hi, too.

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