At this very moment there lives a President who is so exceedingly fond of fine new positions that he spends vast sums of political capital on appearances. To him appearances mean more than anything else in the world. He takes little interest in the economy, nor does he care much about 4th of July parades, or to fly about in his presidential aeroplane, unless it is to display his new positions. He has different positions for every single hour of the day.
In the great city where he lives, life is gay. Strangers are always coming and going. And everyone knows about the President's passion for appearances. Now, not very long ago, two special consultants, calling themselves policy advisors, arrived. They declared that they could make the most magnificent strategy that one could imagine; a strategy more audacious than 11th dimensional chess. Not only would this strategy be stunning, but the positions made from it would have the special power of being invisible to everyone who was stupid or not sufficiently progressive.
"What a splendid idea," thought the President. "What a useful strategy to have. If I had such positions, I could know at once which of my people is stupid or not sufficiently progressive." So the President gave the special consultants large sums of stimulus money and the two policy wonks set up their computers in the West Wing. They demanded access to expensive databases at the most prestigious universities and think tanks and they pretended to work at their computers. But they wrote nothing on the computers. The screens stood empty. They sold the database access to people on e-bay. So they sat pretending to write, and continued to work at the empty computers till late into the night. Night after night they went home with their stimulus money while their e-bay account grew fat from their sale of database access. Day after day they pretended to work.
Now the President was eager to know how much of the strategy was finished, and would have loved to see for himself. He was, however, somewhat uneasy. "Suppose," he thought secretly, "suppose I am unable to see the strategy. That would mean I am either stupid or not sufficiently progressive. That cannot be," he thought, but all the same he decided to send for his faithful Chief of Staff to go and see. "He will best be able to see how the strategy looks. He is very smart and quite progressive."
So the faithful Chief of Staff went into the office where the two policy advisors sat beside the blank computers pretending to work with all their might. The President's Chief of Staff opened his eyes wide. "Shit!" he thought. "I don’t see a thing. Nothing." But he did not say so.
The two special consultants begged him to come nearer and asked him how he liked the strategy. "Is the audacity not exquisite? And see how intricate are the nuances." they said. The poor Chief of Staff stared and stared. Still he could see nothing, for there was nothing to be seen. But he did not dare to say he saw nothing. "Nobody must find out," thought he. "I must never confess that I could not see the strategy."
"Well," said one of the consultants. "You haven’t said whether you like it." "Oh, it is beautiful, most excellent, to be sure. Such a beautiful design, such exquisite audacity. I shall tell the President how enchanted I am with the strategy."
"We are very glad to hear that," said the policy advisors, and they started to describe the audacity and nuances in great detail. The stimulus manager listened very carefully so that he could repeat the description to the President. They also demanded more stimulus money and more database access, saying that they needed it to finish the strategy. But, of course, they sold all the access on e-bay and kept on working at their empty computers.
Soon after this the President sent another White House official to see how the consultants were getting on and to ask whether the strategy would soon be ready. Exactly the same happened with her as with the Chief of Staff. She stood and stared, but as there was nothing to be seen, she could see nothing.
"Is not the strategy progressive?" said the special consultants, and again they talked of the nuances and the exquisite audacity. "Stupid I certainly am not," thought the official. "Then I must not be sufficiently progressive for my post. But nobody shall know that I could not see the strategy." Then she praised the strategy she did not see and declared that she was delighted with the audacity and the marvelous nuances. To the President she said when she returned, "The strategy the policy advisors are preparing is truly magnificent."
Everybody in the city had heard of the secret work. They were talking about the splendid strategy. And now the President was curious to see the costly strategy for himself while it was still upon the computers. Accompanied by a number of selected staff members, among whom were the two poor staffers who had already been before, the President went to the policy advisors. There they sat in front of the empty computers, typing more diligently than ever, yet without a single word upon the screens.
"Is not the strategy magnificent?" said the Chief of Staff. "See here, the splendid nuance, the glorious audacity," said the other staffer. Each pointed to an empty screen. Each thought that the other could see the strategy. "What can this mean?" said the President to himself. "This is terrible. Am I so stupid? Am I not fit to be the President? This is disastrous," he thought. But aloud he said, "Oh, the strategy is perfectly wonderful. It has such charming audacity and a splendid nuance." And he nodded his approval and smiled appreciatively and stared at the empty computer screens. He would not, he could not, admit he saw nothing, when his staffers had praised the material so highly. And all the other staffers looked and looked at the empty computer screens. Not one of them saw anything there at all. Nevertheless, they all said, "Oh, the strategy is magnificent."
They advised the President to have some new positions made from this splendid strategy to present in the State of the Union speech the following day. "Magnificent." "Excellent." "And so progressive," went from mouth to mouth and everyone was pleased. Each of the special consultants was given a decoration to wear in his button-hole and the title of "Policy Wonk Extraordinaire".
The rascals sat up all that night and worked, burning up oodles of megapixels, so that everyone could see how busy they were making the policy positions ready for the State of the Union address. Each of them had a great big monitor and they clicked their mouses in the air, pretending to craft the positions with them, and typed on their keyboards without any word appearing.
There was great excitement in the White House. The President's new positions were the talk of the town. At last the policy advisors declared that the positions were ready. Then the President, along with his most powerful staff members, came to the policy advisors. Each of the special consultants lifted up a Blackberry as if it were holding something. "Here are the President’s positions on health care." said one. "This is the President’s position on the budget." said the other. "The whole strategy is as effective as a spider's web. Why, you might almost feel as if you were trapped, but that is just the beauty of it."
"Magnificent!" cried the staffers, but they could see nothing at all. Indeed there was nothing to be seen. "Now if the President would graciously consent to discard his former positions," said the policy advisors, "we could try on the new ones." So the President laid aside his earlier positions and the special consultants pretended to help him one by one into the new ones they were supposed to have made.
The President turned from side to side in front of the television cameras as if admiring himself. "How well they fit. How progressive the President’s new positions are. What gorgeous audacity!" they all said.
"The limo that is to take the President to Capitol Hill is waiting." announced the trusted Chief of Staff. "I am quite ready," announced the President, and he looked at himself again on the remote turning from side to side as if carefully examining his lovely new positions.
The handlers who were to feed the positions to the press pored over the Blackberries as if there was something there. They pontificated solemnly about the importance of the new positions. Nothing would have persuaded them to admit they could not see the positions, for fear they would be thought stupid or not sufficiently progressive.
And so the President set off for the Capitol, at the head of a great procession. It was all a great success. All the people following the debate on Daily Kos and Huffington Post cheered and cried, "Oh, how progressive is the President's new strategy. How well the positions fit!" The bloggers dared not admit that they couldn't see anything, for who would want it to be known that they were either stupid or insufficiently progressive? None of the President's strategies had ever before met with such success.
But among the bloggers an old woman, a veteran of 40 years of Democratic activism, suddenly posted, "But he hasn't got any strategy at all." And the progressive bloggers began to e-mail one another what the woman had said. "He hasn't got any strategy at all." "There's an old woman saying he hasn't got any strategy at all." Till everyone was saying, "But he hasn't got any strategy at all."
The President himself had the uncomfortable feeling that what they were whispering was only too true. "But I will have to go through with the process," he said to himself. So he drew himself up and strode boldly to the podium, holding his head higher than before, and the Democratic Party held on with even greater ferocity to the imaginary coattails.