The Dragonfly and Raven

The Dragonfly and Raven

Monday, October 9, 2017

Dear Mr. President

Dear Mr. President,

Mr. President, my name is Jordan Davis. I am a 19 year-old white man from coastal rural Oregon. I am writing to you today, Mr. President, because I want to talk to you about something that I think is incredibly important—that being taking a humanistic approach to life and self-improvement. Let me explain.

Mr. President, we all know that you are the best president that the United States has had in a long time. Certainly, you are better than many of your predecessors. However, you are not the greatest president that the United States has ever had. In order to get to that coveted position, you will need to improve yourself. I believe, Mr. President, that the best way for you to do this is to embrace the teachings of Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of the most big-league people of his time.

Ralph Waldo Emerson is a dead white guy from New England, and his speech to Phi Beta Kappa at Harvard is what I would like to tell you about. In this speech, titled, “The American Scholar,” Emerson talks about how “life is our dictionary.” By this, he means that instead of using a big old book to learn to speak, we should be using our lived experiences. This is important, as it services his argument that we should not ever be “the farmer” or “the businessman” or even “the President.” Instead, we should be “the man who farms,” or “the man who does businesses,” or “the man who is President.” It is a subtle distinction, to be sure, Mr. President, but an extremely important one. You see, if you are only “the businessman” or “the President,” how can you understand what it is like to work as a farmer? How can you understand what it is like to work as a teacher, or in a factory? You can't. You cannot begin to fathom what it means to be those things if you are only “the businessman” or “the President.”

You might think that this isn't a problem, Mr. President. That you don't need to know what a person who farms, who teaches, or who works in a factory goes through—but in that, you would be wrong. For you see, Mr. President, leaders who know and can empathize with what their workers go through, are better leaders. They make more money, and their workers are happier (and a happier worker is a more productive worker). Not only that, but without people who farm, there would be no food on your plate. Without factory workers, no one would be making your famous red hats. Thus, their jobs—their roles in society—are vital. We cannot live without them—which means that we need to service them and their interests. Because, what if they were to get angry, and rise up against you? Then you wouldn't have food or hats, and you'd be looking for a new job. You don't need to help them out of love or some other sort of bullshit. You need to help them out of self-interest, pure and simple. And the best way to do this, to know what to do, is to try your hand at farm work, at teaching, or at factory work. It is to be more than “the businessman.” It is to be Donald J. Trump, the best man—and President—that the United States has ever had.

Yours Truly, a Bisexual Lilly-livered Liberal,


Jordan Davis  

The Dogwood Fruit

Before time,
     Before light,
There was nothing
     And everything.

It all came out with a bang.

Seconds in that early world,
     To us would be eons.
A world that was uniform, smooth
     Save for the smallest variation,
That created microscopic valleys and mountains
     That would give birth
To the glorious incandescence that would become--
     Stars and planets,
Space and time, 
     Water and earth,
Life, the universe, and everything.
     That would become the dogwood tree
And the little fruit I hold in my hand--
     The universe telling us its story.