Nothing Is Wrong and Here Is Why

by Alexandra Petri

  I had a white supremacist—just full stop; three reverse pictures of Dorian Gray; what should have been a complete set of the two door guardians from a logic puzzle (one always tells the truth and one always lies), but the first one did not arrive with the rest of the shipment; an enormous wind sock attempting to sell used cars; and a shark disguised as a meter reader. I really should not, in retrospect, have put two hand-puppets from a wisely canceled local-access children’s show in charge of a Cabinet department, and I definitely should not have been taking legal advice from a half-hour-long program in which Pat Boone urges you with increasing intensity to buy sixty-eight CDs from the 1950s.

  I thought I had the best people, but I had a big plane filled with money, a bear that has wandered into a school by mistake, zombie James Buchanan, a pair of Ivanka Trump pumps that want to speak to a manager, the hair of a televangelist, a Pixar villain whose origin story involved a tanning bed struck by lightning, and an anthropomorphic liver. I had a scorpion asking for a ride across a river; an ominous forwarded email with a sad face drawn on it; a statue brought to life by the love of its sculptor, but, in a twist on the classic Pygmalion scenario, it was a Confederate statue; a piece of toast on which sexist words appeared for no reason; a gallon container of snake oil in an expensive leather coat; everyone at a surf-side bar on a Thursday; a reality-TV contestant; and Anthony Scaramucci.

  I am chagrined. I thought that a pick-up artist book in a big-collared shirt, an animatronic statue of Rutherford B. Hayes reprogrammed by HYDRA, and the Thing that appears in the mirror when you blink were good people to surround yourself with, but, in fact, no. A television chicken sales personality, a stand of reeds into which hateful words have been whispered for months, a bag of money with a severed finger in it, a book by a Fox News personality brought to life by the love of a lonely child and a phrenology head—not the elite team I had been led to suspect!

  These were not, I now realize, the best people. I get this sense from how frequently they keep being forced to quit, getting charged with and admitting to crimes.

  Look, if Melania Trump’s campaign has proved anything, it is that nobody knows what “Be Best” means. But somehow I feel like it is not this. I am quite let down! Next time, I will be more specific.

  August 23, 2018

  HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO BRETT KAVANAUGH?

  Now it is time to turn to the period of unpleasantness surrounding the confirmation of Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court—a time many recall less-than-fondly, doubtless because they were forced to watch the nightmarish spectacle of a man briefly afraid he might not get exactly what he wanted.

  HOW DARE YOU?!

  HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO BRETT KAVANAUGH?

  HOW DARE YOU DENY HIM THIS SEAT?!

  Listen—NO, YOU listen!

  Do you know who Brett Kavanaugh is? Brett Kavanaugh went to Georgetown Prep!

  BRETT KAVANAUGH IS AN OPTIMIST WHO LOOKS ON THE SUNSHINE SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN!

  If Brett does not secure a lifetime appointment on the Supreme Court, this country will be IN SHAMBLES! THIS IS HIS BIRTHRIGHT! Do you know how embarrassing it is for a Georgetown Prep graduate to NOT be on the Supreme Court? They are literally 12 PERCENT of the court! THIS IS PROBABLY THE WORST INDIGNITY YOU CAN INFLICT ON A HUMAN BEING!

  ALL BRETT IS ASKING FOR IS DUE PROCESS! DUE PROCESS BEFORE HE IS DEPRIVED OF HIS GOD-GIVEN RIGHT TO A SEAT ON THE HIGHEST COURT IN THE LAND, WHERE HE WILL DETERMINE THE FATES OF MILLIONS!

  Apply the standard you want to apply to your husband-brother-son. He should be allowed to be careless. He should be allowed to like beer.

  BRETT LIKES BEER!

  WHO DOESN’T LIKE BEER!

  BRETT ISN’T YELLING!

  YOU’RE YELLING!

  YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED!

  THIS IS BRETT’S SEAT!

  The Founders did not break from Britain so a landed white gentleman accused of sexual misconduct could NOT be put in charge of something!

  ARE YOU GOING TO BELIEVE HER, AMERICA? OVER HIM, AMERICA?

  YOU HEARD THE WOMAN! SHE DOESN’T EVEN LIKE TO FLY! YET SHE FLEW HERE! SHE DOESN’T REMEMBER ALL THE DETAILS OF THE EVENING, WHEREAS HE KEPT A CALENDAR, LIKE HIS FATHER BEFORE HIM!

  HE IS NOT EMOTIONAL!

  YOU ARE EMOTIONAL!

  NO, YOU LISTEN!

  If this is how you are going to behave, if you are going to believe this woman, if you will let her stand there and destroy his life (well, not his life, technically, nor his freedom, just his chance of a seat on the highest court in the land), then what kind of country is this going to be?

  They are going to drag him here in front of all these OTHER MEN and deny him a seat on the Supreme Court, and he will have to walk home confused and disoriented, and he will have to live with the feeling that he is NOT ON THE SUPREME COURT for as long as he lives.

  This is OPPRESSION! TO BE DENIED POWER OVER OTHERS! IF THAT IS NOT WHAT IT IS, DO NOT TELL ME.

  The right to decide what happens to other people is one a man like him is born with, ONE OF THOSE INALIENABLE RIGHTS, AND IT SHOULD NOT BE TAKEN FROM HIM WITHOUT BEAUTIFUL DUE PROCESS!

  NOW HIS WORLD IS FALLING APART! NOW HE IS BEING FORCED TO GO OVER HIS HIGH SCHOOL BEHAVIOR WITH A FINE-TOOTHED COMB! THIS IS NOT FAIR! THIS SCRUTINY! THIS DEMAND TO ACCOUNT! HE DESERVES THIS POWER! GIVE IT TO HIM! STOP ASKING HIM THESE QUESTIONS!

  STOP SAYING THINGS! SHHH! BE QUIET! STOP RESISTING BRETT KAVANAUGH. STOP TRYING TO STOP HIM.

  NO, LISTEN! LISTEN!

  HE DESERVES THIS!

  LISTEN, YOU DON’T DESERVE THIS. AMERICA DOESN’T DESERVE BRETT KAVANAUGH ON THE SUPREME COURT.

  IF THIS IS HOW AMERICA IS GOING TO BEHAVE, IT DOESN’T DESERVE BRETT KAVANAUGH AT ALL!

  September 27, 2018

  The FBI Has Been Very Easy to Reach about Brett Kavanaugh, and Of Course the Report Has Been Quite Easy to Read

  Even before the investigation ended, several people who said they had information that could be useful said they ended up mired in bureaucracy when they tried to get in touch with the FBI.

  — THE WASHINGTON POST, OCTOBER 4, 2018

  The FBI’s report is available at a sensitive compartmented information facility, or SCIF, in the Capitol Visitor Center, a secure room designed for senators to review sensitive or classified material, two Senate officials said. Just one physical copy of the report is available, and only to senators and 10 committee staffers cleared to view the material.

  — THE WASHINGTON POST, OCTOBER 4, 2018

  HI!

  We hear you have information to share with the FBI about Brett Kavanaugh! We have streamlined the tip process as much as possible in hopes of getting right to the bottom of this.

  With that in mind, please call the indicated hotline. The person who picks up will direct you to a dedicated drop box, in which you will find a crumpled sheet of paper with GPS coordinates, which will guide you to an underground vault where you will encounter a hanging sword and a flask. (You will not be able to lift the sword until you take a swig from the flask.)

  Once you have entered and swigged from the flask, grab the sword and hide behind the door to the vault. When the troll who dwells there returns home, strike off all three of his heads at once. You must strike the three at once, or they will grow back, and the FBI will not be able to contact you.

  In a hollow tooth of the troll’s third head is a key. Use the key to unlock the inner door of the vault, where you will find a telegraph machine, with a telegraph operator slumbering over the controls. She alone can transmit your message, but to awaken her, you must find and blow three blasts on the silver horn that hangs just east of the sun and west of the moon in the heart of the glass mountain, which is a castle.

  The glass mountain (which, again, is a castle) is easily reached by whatever mass-transit project is under construction in your area. Ride it to the end of the line, then go to the bathroom. Stand there a day and a night until, in the other stall, you see two pairs of feet that do not loo
k like human feet. Knock three times on the partition. If the creature with two pairs of feet that do not look like human feet does not knock back, wait for it to leave, then go home without ever looking behind you, and thank whatever gods you worship that you escaped so easily. If it knocks back, come out. This is your steed.

  Do not look it directly in the eyes, or I cannot say what will befall you. Climb on its back and ride until you come to the house of the North Wind. The North Wind will pose you a simple riddle to make certain you are approaching the FBI in good faith. Do not be alarmed by the many skeletons of those who failed to answer the North Wind’s riddle! This has caused problems for people in the past.

  When you have answered the riddle, the North Wind will give you a golden spindle. Something similar will happen when you reach the house of the South Wind, who will give you a golden skein of yarn, and in the house of the West Wind, where you will be given a golden ball. Now your steed will take you to the glass mountain on the back of the West Wind.

  Stand outside and play with your golden spindle. An old crone with a pile of paperwork will approach you. Tell her you will give her the golden spindle if she helps you complete the paperwork. Her sister will come to see what is happening. Her sister is the custodian of the polygraph machine. Do not give her your yarn until she lets you access the machine. The final sister holds the key to the glass mountain. Give her your golden ball.

  Enter the glass mountain, looking neither to right nor to left, and you will find the silver horn. Your steed will bear you back to the vault where the telegraph operator slumbers. Blow three blasts upon the horn, and when she awakens, tell her what you know. She will send your information to the proper authorities, where it will be processed as soon as it is received, by an agent who will whisper your information into a reverberating cave of echoes hundreds of meters below ground that will keep whispering it forever.

  Oh, you wanted it to reach the Senate? Then I have no idea.

  See also: “Directions for Accessing the FBI Report (During the Blood Moon If You Approach the SCIF Not Walking and Not Riding, Not Hungry and Not Full, Not by Day and Not by Night, in Alternating Shifts of an Hour by Party)”

  October 4, 2018

  You Are in Melania Trump’s Nightmare Forest of Cursed Red Trees. Keep to the Path.

  LISTEN TO ME. THE TREES in the White House were all green when I got here. They were all green as recently as Monday. But the trees have turned.

  Walk faster.

  Don’t be afraid. The trees would smell it.

  Things are wrong here. Little details are wrong. The attorney general is different. He hasn’t been confirmed by the Senate. We go nearly a month between daily press briefings. The trees are red. The phrase “Be Best” is everywhere. “Be Best.” As though to “be best” is grammatical and not the clumsy articulation of a child. But there are no children in the forest. This forest is no place for children.

  Last year the trees were a hideous, ghastly white. It was always winter and never Christmas.

  This year everything is red. It is perfectly natural that the trees are red. The trees are red (the Internet says) as a handmaid’s cloak. Do not think of blood. Keep walking.

  Has anyone seen or heard from Scott Pruitt? Don’t look startled. Has anyone seen or heard from Jared Kushner? Do people even remember that there is such a person as Jared Kushner? Then what does his voice sound like? Can you remember ever hearing it? Keep walking. Look straight ahead.

  You are all right. Keep to the path. Walk between the trees. Keep your face relaxed.

  Do not look down the hallway, where someone appears to have been dragged a great distance and there is a wreckage of tiny red needles. It was only the grabbers. Let it be. Clutch only your White House Christmas ornament. You may hear something that is not quite a heartbeat. Walk on.

  Outside the White House you will hear the great murmuring, the women in their hats, crying, “Mueller shall deliver us.” The litany goes up. The supplication echoes. “Mueller is coming to change everything. Everything will be Revealed. Nothing will be suffered to be hidden. The trees will crackle and burn in his magnifying glass’s purifying flame.”

  Do not listen to the forest’s derisive laughter. Keep to the path.

  Staffers have wandered into the forest and not come out. You must count the trees as you pass them to keep to the right way. The angles are—I do not know how to put it—they are wrong.

  If you keep walking and do not count the trees as you pass them, sometimes you will come across Jeff Sessions making a pair of dainty shoes, working his tiny hammer and adze so deftly that you can scarcely believe your eyes.

  Or you will happen upon the hut deep in the forest that stands on chicken’s legs and plays Fox & Friends. It wants you to come in. It has a cooking show. Don’t go in. It is not a cooking show. You know what it is.

  Deeper still in the scarlet wood, Matt Whitaker awaits in a chalet made entirely of Muscle Milks. Standing sentry is the Rat King. He will ask you to dance. He will ask to appear on a panel at your festival of ideas. You must keep walking.

  You must count the trees carefully. The eleventh tree is a Mistake. Do not look at it. Do not let it enter your imagination.

  If your eyes alight upon the tree, transported, you will stumble upon the Mueller indictments in a clearing, cold and still. But it is not their time! At your footstep they will unseal, scream, and become dust before your eyes. Then it will be only stillness. You will be alone in the forest, and no one will come for you.

  Keep to the path.

  November 28, 2018

  Lock Her Up?

  Do you remember where you were on this day?

  ALL THE BELLS CLANGED IN every port, in every steeple of every church. As the somber knell rang out over the entire land, President Trump sat motionless at his window, gazing out over the countryside.

  “You know the penalty, my lord.”

  He nodded. He knew the penalty. That was why the bells tolled.

  All the flags slid all the way to the bottom of the staff. A velvet drapery was placed over every statue, even the good ones he was annoyed the states were trying to replace. Around the neck of every ox, a small bell rang mournfully with every step.

  What could the nation do but weep?

  In the towns they began to rend their garments. The plowmen at their plows doffed their soft caps and threw them to the ground and trampled upon them. The valleys were still, and the glens and dells, but if you listened you could hear the faerie folk lamenting, and a mournful tinkling as many tiny bells began to ring out. The oceans halted momentarily in their rise.

  All the shoes everywhere were placed into a pile and burned. All the books, too, but that was unrelated.

  Limo drivers began weeping and could not continue. Limo passengers unclamped their chains of pearls and let them spill to the ground. In the gas station coffee shops, disgruntled voters telling reporters they felt left behind fell silent.

  The city streets were empty. A child whispered a question to his mother and was quickly hushed. All the mannequins in the shop windows were denuded of their Christmas garb and clad in solemn black. Times Square was dark and still.

  “It’s time now, sir.”

  President Trump did not turn from the window.

  She had done it, the one unthinkable crime. Even she, his only daughter (except Tiffany). The most awful crime a person could commit. Indeed, there were no other crimes. The one thing! The one unforgivable thing!

  She had sent government emails from her private account.

  If justice were to remain in the land, any semblance of justice, she must bear the punishment. They must begin the chanting.

  “Couldn’t we just . . . decide we didn’t actually care about this?” he asked.

  “Impossible! We cannot be safe until all such evildoers are eradicated!”

  Ivanka waited, surrounded by her handmaids, her head shrouded in a veil, for the sentencing.

  He turned with a heavy sigh.
“Lock her up.”

  Across the nation, from rally to rally, the chant joined the rolling of the bells. He did not watch as they led her away.

  November 20, 2018

  My Book Report on The Mueller Report

  After many months of intense effort, Special Counsel Robert Mueller produced a report. And people definitely read it.

  I ENJOYED READING The Mueller Report, a book that contained 448 pages, each more exciting than the last, as well as more than 1,000 footnotes! The book was published in 2019, meaning it is relevant to our times, and it contained many themes and symbolism, which I will explain in the course of this report. At the back it also included a list of characters. Some people just skimmed through this report to come to conclusions they already had, but I did not, as this report will show.

  The Mueller Report is about a man who wanted to find information, but really, I think, what he found was the American Dream. It is exactly like The Great Gatsby, a book about a man who pretends to have more money than he actually has and turns out to owe everything he has to sinister forces but for whom you ultimately feel pity because he is lonely even though he has a big house, in that both books are about a narrator who is trying to find out information about one thing and ultimately discovers something else.

  Basically, the American Dream is elusive to lots of people, and some people would say that it does not exist at all, which is also what people in this book say about collusion, which shows parallelism.

  One theme of The Mueller Report was that it contains 448 pages. That is a lot of pages, and it is very impressive to read a book that long, as, of course, I did. But many of the words are covered up in thick black bars, which makes the reading go fast because of pacing. I would argue that the bars are even a character. In the writings of Kurt Vonnegut, a large asterisk drawn in thick black ink stands for a part of the human body. I am not sure what part it would be in this book.