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The (Conservative) Maestro
Yeah, I wrote that. And I meant it.

A True Account of General Barr’s Travels to Congressional Lilliput

7/29/2020

 
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It would not be proper, for some reasons, to trouble the reader with the particulars of our adventures; let it suffice to inform him/her/zim, that in our passage through the treacherous waters of modern-day politicks, we were driven by violent storms to the South-East up the Avenue of Penn’s Woods to a large edifice upon a Hill. 
 
When we arrived, I attempted to speak, but was not able to utter a word: for, as I happened to sit at my table, I found my words were strongly countered on all sides.  I could only stare upwards in disbelief; the camera lights began to grow hot, and the sound offended my ears.  
 
I heard a confused noise about me; in a little time I saw some things alive sitting at a sort of dais; when, bending my eyes upwards, I perceived it to be a political creature not six inches high in reputation and skills (and not much more in actual stature), with a oratorical bow and arrow in his hands, and a quiver at his back.  
 
In the mean time, I perceived several more of the same kind (as I conjectured) following the first.  I was in the utmost astonishment, and answered so calmly and intelligently, that they in turn fell silent; and some of them, as I was afterwards told, were hurt with the effort of trying to understand my simple reasoning.  
 
However, one of them, lifting up his hands and eyes by way of condemnation, cried out in a nasal but distinct voice, “Face coverings!” the others repeated the same words several times, but then I knew not what they meant.  
 
I sat all this while, as the reader may believe, in great uneasiness.  At length, struggling to get a word in edgewise, I had the fortune to break through the noise, and wrench out the demagoguery that fastened to the questioners.
 
Whereupon there was a great shout in a very shrill accent, and after it ceased I heard one of them cry aloud “Systemic racism.” I thought it the most prudent method to sit still, and my design was to continue so till noon, when, I felt, I could easily excuse myself: and as for the combatants, I had reason to believe I might be a match for the greatest army they could bring against me, if they were all of the same limited brainpower with him that I saw. 
 
But fortune disposed otherwise of me.  That one of them, who seemed to be a person of obesity, made me a long speech, whereof I understood not one syllable.  But I should have mentioned, that before the principal person began his oration, he cried out for some inexplicable reason, “Shame on you!” (these words and the former were afterwards repeated and explained to me).
 
He appeared to be of an older age, and shorter than any of the others who attended him, and seemed to be barely longer than my middle finger (which I several times considered extending) IQ-wise.  He acted every part of an orator, and I could observe many periods of threatenings.  I answered in a few words, but in the most submissive manner, lifting up my left hand, and both my eyes to the camera lights, as calling him for a witness; and being almost famished with hunger, having not eaten a morsel for some hours before I left the Avenue, I found the demands of nature so strong upon me, that I could not forbear showing my impatience (perhaps against the strict rules of decency) by asking for a recess, to signify that I wanted food.  
 
The Chairman (for so they call a great lord, as I afterwards learnt) understood me very well.  He condescended from the stage, and commanded that I nevertheless continue.
 
When in an instant I felt above a hundred rhetorical arrows discharged on my left ear, which, pricked me like so many needles; and besides, they shot another flight into the air, as rioters do bombs in Portland, whereof many, I suppose, fell on my presence, (though I felt them not).  When this shower of words was over, I fell a smirking with exasperation and annoyance; and then striving again to get a response in, they discharged another volley larger than the first, and some of them attempted with spears of feigned indignation to stick me in the sides; but by good luck I had on a modicum of logic, which they could not pierce.  
 
After some time, there appeared before me a person of some congressional rank. Her “excellency” spoke about five minutes without any signs of anger, but with a kind of false prosecutorial-style resolution, often leaning forwards.  I answered in few words, but to no purpose. It appeared that she understood me well enough, for she shook her head by way of disapprobation, and held her head in a posture to show that I must be silent as if a prisoner, and actually accused me of disrespect.
 
I confess I was often tempted, while they were passing backwards and forwards over my attempts to answer their feeble inquiries, to seize four or five of the mental dwarfs that came in my reach, and dash them against the ground.  But the remembrance of what I had felt, which probably might not be the worst they could do, and the promise of honour I made them—for so I interpreted my oath—soon drove out these imaginations.  
 
Besides, I now considered myself as bound by the laws of decorum, not to these but to an American people who had entrusted me with so much authority and responsibility.  However, in my thoughts I could not sufficiently wonder at the intrepidity of these diminutive minds, who durst venture to mount and speak over my answers, without trembling at the very sight of so prodigious an intellect as I must appear to them.  
 
Soon after I heard a general shout, with frequent repetitions of the words “peaceful protesters;” and I perceived great numbers of people on my left side releasing nonsense words to such a degree that I was certain they were posturing for the evening news. These circumstances, added to the harassment I had received, disposed me to leave.  I endured about eight news cycles of condemnation; and it was no wonder, for the news media, by the chairman’s example, had mingled sleepy and repetitive talking points into their coverage.

Photo Credit: DonkeyHotey CC BY 2.0, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/legalcode, caricature combined with public domain

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    Your (Conservative) Maestro has been around for a really long time orchestrating messaging and communications strategy for politicians, CEOs and other assorted types. He thinks he may have picked up a few things along the way.

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