Standing Up To Putin's Puppet: I Kicked My Son Out Of The House For Reading Dostoevsky
Only a few short years ago, I was beside myself with excitement at the prospect of electing the most qualified candidate ever. Hillary Clinton, the kind of personality that only comes around every 500 years or so—one part saint, one part master politician, one part martyr— was about to make history. I was with her and I was ready to Pokemon Go to the polls. I did everything I could to get her elected from throwing wine and cheese parties in our Park Slope mansion to raise money for her campaign to scolding my underachieving Sanders-supporting brother. We were going to win this thing. But, lo and behold, I was shocked, as all those possessing a postgraduate education were shocked, to discover as I awoke from my deliciously cozy slumber on November 11, 2016 to news that none other than the Mango Mussolini had been elected.
THIS IS NOT WHO WE ARE
In the days and weeks following that Tuesday tragedy,I struggled to make sense of it all. I tried to grapple with the election result and what it meant. I thought about the long history of white supremacy and racism in the United States. I thought about the nature of our institutions. Why, after all, did we have an electoral college? I thought about the nation’s decrepit infrastructure, failing schools and dysfunctional healthcare system. I thought about our nation’s bloated military budget and ill conceived foreign interventions predicated on lies. I thought about the failure of the two party system to address the needs of working class people and the devastated post-industrial cities that have suffered from years of neglect, abandoned by our political class. Could these myriad crises have contributed to the rise to power of a hateful demagogue? Then I turned on the television and flipped to MSNBC and much to my relief I discovered that in fact none of those things had anything to do with it. Russia was to blame.
It all makes sense now. After all, we were enemies for decades during the Cold War. While the Soviet Union ceased to exist in 1991, who’s to say that this was not some kind of clever ploy on their part. Putin used to work for the KGB and the wily Russians have a knack for subterfuge. For all we know the Soviet Union still exists and they have just constructed an elaborate facade to make us believe that the situation is different from what it is— a Potemkin village, if you will. The Russians were behind it all and Trump is merely Putin’s puppet, or I really should say, Putin’s bitch. When Russia hacked our election they perpetrated an act of terrorism worse than 9/11, Pearl Harbor and 1000 Hiroshima’s put together! Armed with this knowledge we must guard against all forms of Asiatic subversion and protect our young from their intoxicating vodka, coquettish women, and beguiling ethnic dances.
While discovering the truth about Russian interference has helped me to make sense of the world and has taught me that all our social ills can be blamed on an external enemy, it has not brought me peace of mind. The scariest part about all of this is that: THEY CAN DO IT AGAIN. While Mitch McConnell GOP work overtime to drive up voter suppression and gerrymandering, I am not very concerned about that because, at the end of the day, they are Americans and are obviously good people. The Russians on the other hand are bad people. You don’t have to be a history major to know that the Russians are always up to no good. All you have to do is watch one episode of “Rocky and Bullwinkle” to know that no matter what happened to Boris and Natasha Nogoodnik, there they were in the very next episode concocting some new sinister plan.
Up until now guarding against Russian interference in my house has not been particularly difficult. We had a Matroyshka doll, we threw it away. We had a recording from the infernal Kirov Orchestra, we threw it straight in the fire. So far, so good. Unfortunately it has not always been so easy. Last week our maid noticed our son reading “The Brothers Karamazov” by Dostoevsky. While I am highly educated, I had never heard of this particular author, but the name struck me as vaguely Slavic. After some research, I soon learned that Dostoevsky is in fact Russian. Right then and there I told my son to get out of my house and that if he wants help, he can suck Putin’s cock just like our president does. While it hurts to see my son live in the street, I’m sure he’ll land on his feet. Park Slope is an affluent, liberal neighborhood and if there’s one thing I’m certain of it’s that affluent liberals can always be counted on for their generosity.