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Now available for preorder:
The San Francisco Panorama.
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G A B E H U D S O N ' S [Write a letter to the president.] - - - - [Gabe Hudson, a McSweeney's editor-at-large - - - - [These letters were compiled by Gabe Hudson, Jessica Rabinowitz, and Kevin Feeney.] - - - - Dear Mr. President, I just received an e-mail from thewhitehouse@pjr.paknet.com.pk claiming that I could enlarge my member if I took a certain kind of pill. Being female, I'm confused by this reference to "member." Please explain. Sincerely, - - - - Dear Mr. President, I'm a father now, and I'm childishly delighted with my 2-year-old son. He's unusually tall. For some reason, that makes me proud. I hear it's a social advantage. He seems happy and popular with the other kids at his daycare, even though I sometimes expose him to news broadcasts that could, if he had better language skills, burden him with emotional scars. I'm worried, though—more than usual. I've become genuinely frightened of his becoming a sociopathic, conniving bully. His current social standing does nothing to allay these fears. I'm afraid that he might buy into some patriotic hooliganism, somebody else's manipulative agenda, and think it's OK to torture or kill thousands of sensible, dignified people in order to impose his own or anyone else's will on the few left alive. I'm afraid he might propagate slavery, imperialism, and totalitarianism in order to further the interests of billionaires. Worse, I'm afraid he might aim to become a manipulator, who sacrifices his humanity for the theoretical benefit, or security, offered by the humiliation of his rivals, and that he might come to accept as natural a world where nobody lives in safety or harmony, because it doesn't suit the short-term gain of a handful of corporations. If I could, I would seek most of all to protect him from you and your circle of associates. Sincerely, - - - - Dear Mr. President, I've already made up my mind: I'm not voting for you this November. I just wanted you to hear it from me personally, and not from, y'know ... someone doggin' me out at a party or somewhere. Sincerely, - - - - Dear Mr. President, My name is Ashley Ezell from Lawton, Oklahoma. I recently graduated from high school and am attending summer school at a local university. In my government class, one of the assignments is to write a letter about a national problem to the president of the United States. I hope you or one of your assistants can write back. I am concerned over the rising cost of gasoline. I realize that Oklahoma's gasoline prices are not as high as in other states, such as California, but our state's gas prices seem to rise and fall in a matter of days! How is this possible, that one day the same gas can go up 20 cents in price? Do you see a reduction in gas cost in the near future? Once I find a part-time job that will work around my college class, I will be spending most of my money buying gas. Please tell my what, if anything, I can do to help my situation. Sincerely, - - - - Dear Mr. President, At my friend's wedding last month, the wedding band played Prince's "1999," and we really danced and lost ourselves in that song. You know how it goes: "We're gonna party like it's nineteen ninety-NINE!" I first heard the song when I was 14. 1999 was so far away then, and what a crazy and beautiful future that would be. I would be 29 ... and maybe an astronaut or a scientist. After the wedding, I read a news report about how our proud military might have bombed a wedding in Iraq the same night as my friend's wedding in Chicago. This was following reports of all the terrible things that happened at the Iraqi prison, and was also following the even more terrible thing that happened to Nick Berg. Sadly, I wasn't shocked at all after reading any of those stories. I wish I had become the great scientist I had imagined I would be. Then maybe I would invent a time machine and bring these stories to you on the eve of your inauguration. If anyone had the power to change things, it would be you, Mr. President. But would you even change anything? This future isn't what I envisioned at all. And I don't know what lies before us. But I know one thing is for certain. In the future, no one is going to party like it's 2004. Sincerely, - - - - Dear Mr. President, Years ago, I had a roommate who accused me of trying to poison her—she was a paranoid schizo who wasn't taking her medication. She heard voices, and some of those voices were from you. That's when I knew she was legally insane. Now, years later, I hear you talking all the time and saying things on a daily basis. I was hoping I was going crazy like the nutjob I mentioned above, but I realized you were on TV ... speaking ... it was real. Please stop. Sincerely, - - - - Dear Mr. President, I was looking at my face this morning and noticed a redness around my nose. I think it is going to mature into a zit by tomorrow. Just wanted to share. Before I forget, I don't like ticking the "nonresident aliens" box in official forms. Could you change it to "really cute nonresident friendly alien, who is not looking to stay past visa expiration date"? Sincerely, - - - - [NOTE: The opinions expressed in these letters do not necessarily represent those of McSweeney's, Knopf, Vintage, Kevin Feeney, Jessica Rabinowitz, or Gabe Hudson.] |
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