The Portrait

Senator Max Goodwin was retiring after 6 honorable terms as a senator. He had never lost an election. Marvin Plank was an intern considering a campaign for Max's seat, and approached Max's office for some advice. Max was napping, but awoke when he heard the knocking...

"[snort] Ahem...yes, come in."

Marvin cracked the door.

"Senator, do you have a moment."

"For you, Marvin, I've got two. Please sit down."

A relieved Marvin walked into the office, which was rich with dark woodwork and leather furniture. He sat in the large armchair in front of the mahogany desk. The senator leaned back in his chair, casually observing the young gentleman. Marvin's head was tilted up and to the side, observing the new painting on the wall beside them.

"Marvin, just look at that portrait. Isn't it lovely? Majestic. Powerful. The adept strokes and rich hues present nobility beyond reproach, don't they? It's not only the image of a man, but the body of his work, even the integrity of his soul. The man is blameless and perfect, his every fiber built for the honorable, selfless service of mankind. You know, that portrait will likely endure longer than anything that gentleman has ever done. It will probably leave an honorable legacy more persuasive than anything he has said or written. Marvin, I believe that in the future, some will mistake the man in that portrait for me, don't you think?"

"It is a lovely portrait sir, and captures you well."

"You're too kind. Really. You want to know how I did it, don’t you."

"A talented, um, painter?"

"Quite right, I suppose. Yes, the painter. He needs to look into the subject's eyes, and see him not for who he is, but who he would like to be...his essence, his soul. A very good painter can see beyond the surface; dig deep to capture whatever glimmer of humanity remains beneath the bruised and battered shell of a man that defines his actual existence. You know, Marvin, beneath the ugly, rotten surface, most men carry some remnant of this true soul. Most men cling to some spark of decency deep within, like a tiny, perfect diamond in a mountain of cold, black, coal. For those of us without it, a painter of exceptional talent is required. The artist, failing to observe any goodness at all in his subject must rely purely on his own."

The senator paused, looking into space in what became an uncomfortable silence for the young intern.

"Pardon me. Senator? You are saying that..."

"I am saying that if you win, I recommend a good painter."

Marvin was caught off-guard. He nodded, trying to comprehend the strange advice. The senator regained focus.

"Marvin, if you intend to do well in politics, dissolve any remnant of such a diamond. Republican, Democrat, Independent, it doesn't matter. The careers of good men in this profession die instantly, like dogs. Whatever brought you here, your belief in 'goodness' or 'service' or 'virtue,' is your weakness. My colleagues and I shred men like you before breakfast. If you expect to see a painting of yourself like the one hanging on that wall, you will abandon any concept of 'morality' or 'goodness' and consider the merits of pragmatism, preservation. Only when you can do that will you be begin to succeed. I suspect you believe that, theoretically, once a foot is in the door, you could do 'good.' But, son, by that time, it is far too late. It is a shame that all rookies dismiss this fact until they see it for themselves, then look back upon the welded hatch that forever forbids them from returning to the naive, innocent world left behind. A sad fact, indeed."

Marvin nodded slowly. Max took a deep breath and continued...

"You say you are 'independent' and 'libertarian.' You believe the people can govern themselves. I made this mistake when I was your age. Obviously, they cannot govern themselves, or we would not be here, sitting on fine leather furniture. I will save you some time: abandon this nonsense at once. If "the people" knew or cared what was best for themselves, they wouldn't have cheered every time I took their money and spent it on fine leather chairs. If they knew what was best for themselves, they wouldn't put up with any of us. Marvin, make no mistake that whoever sits in this office has the unenviable job of assembling the plundered excrement of society from some available trough to sling it randomly over the heads of mankind in general. The one who shovels the most shit gets re-elected by the select few who benefit from the slinging. I represent the 25% of the people in my district who like to steal from the other 75%. How do they do it? They VOTE! They have the time and inclination to look over our shoulders. Your job, as senator, is to ensure the plundering continues by convincing the plundered 75% that they are not being robbed. Talk about children, use the word "elderly" a lot, and "security." So long as they don't look at their paycheck too closely, and they never do, they will remain seated upon their sofas being harmless, and probably watching our party propaganda. Remember this: they beg for it with their silence. Their silence is their consent, and your mandate, for whatever you prefer to buy with their silence. After the election you will use their silence to drain them for every dime you can and redistribute whatever is necessary to those 25% of the voting few who are paying attention.

Oh, and remember, give a token amount to some large charitable organization in a highly-publicized way to keep up appearances."

Marvin was speechless, paralyzed in his chair.

"Run as a Democrat, Marvin, if you want an easier job. Democrats are two trick ponies. You're libertarian, so the first part will be easy: tell them gays can marry and women can have abortions. They'll support you. Why? Because most Democrats think the state defines society. Therefore, lead your attack with false promises and attractive, popular, ideological delusions. You know...call it "reproductive rights" and "gay rights" as if they need your permission to engage in their preferred behavior. It works. I mean, you know the facts. You know any two women can cohabitate, fertilize themselves (naturally or artificially), and perform ceremonial abortions on a regular basis, and cannot be stopped. Yes, you understand the state's definitions for these things are essentially worthless. Much legislation is unenforceable and ridiculous. But, pretend it matters and you'll win elections. You are only the servant, the messenger. Remember that. They pay you to pretend to give a shit.

But Marvin, if I may speak freely, for Democrats, it's not really about the issues. It's about style. It's a high school popularity contest won by charisma, emotion, and blurting enough statistics to get the "wow, he's smart" tag. Steal their hearts, confuse them a little, and their vote is yours. As for all the actual stealing, they don't need convincing. They already believe rich people's money belongs in your pocket, or their own, so you don't even need to convince them of this. By the time you take office, you already have the power to legislate the confiscation of millions from their paychecks before they even see it, and then compensate the executives that employ them for the trouble. Yes, it's a racket, but it has massive advantages on two fronts: 1) The poor think you're looking out for the little guy, and 2) The poor and middle-class actually grow poorer, become dependent on the state, and become more likely to vote for you. And...you know what..."

Max put his forearms on the table, leaned forward, half standing. He whispered loudly...

"There is absolutely no disadvantage to running on a 'robin hood' platform of stealing from the rich to give to the poor while actually doing the opposite. If you can do it, this is how you win in politics. It got me elected to office 6 times."

The senator leaned back again and pulled a bottle of Scotch from his drawer. He pulled the cork and poured it into two glasses, pushing one across the desk toward Marvin.

Marvin was stunned, but grasped the glass and both took a sip.

Max leaned back in his chair.

"But kid, let me tell you what...if you want to kick some ass, run as a Republican. A gentleman I admire once said: 'although it is not true that all conservatives are stupid people, it is true that most stupid people are conservative.' I wouldn't say they're 'stupid,' exactly, but conservatives tend to outsource their brains and virtue to organized religion and advance slowly in giant herds without really thinking. This means you can control massive numbers of them easily, which is a very good thing politically. Basically, Republicans are susceptible to a slightly less sophisticated fraud than the standard, "robin hood" Democrat. Where the Democrat asks government to define society, the Republican asks government to ‘do God's work.’ This is especially true of Christians; Protestant, Catholic, doesn't matter. While the most noble, thoughtful, and convincing pacifist individualist who ever lived is worshiped and hanging on the cross at the front of their churches, they generally ignore this in practice. They yield the entirety of their own brains, bodies, and souls to their pastor, congregation, and political party. Instead of serving this "God" character according to scripture, they are somehow capable of believing whatever some pedophile priest or Bill Oh Really tells them. They can be persuaded to fear anything, and are therefore obsessed with safety. This means you can count on them to blindly follow you in the violent pursuit of world domination for the sake of security. Don't chuckle. That's really what we're doing here. While Democrats are a virile breed of hypocrite, applauding you for stealing from their own pockets, Republicans have them beat in that arena. Republicans steal it and use it to perpetuate an oppressive, violent, globalist, authoritarian state diametrically opposed to the virtually-impossible-to-misunderstand core of their traditional belief system. Worshiping the decision to die on the cross, in the most horrific manner possible, rather than rule the world might seem like an obvious anti-imperialist clue. It apparently isn't. Modern American organized religion does well to obfuscate that fact. You might have the stomach to deal with such dangerous, paradoxical irrationality. I never did."

Max lifted his glass to his lips, sipping the golden liquor. Marvin, still shocked, tried to compose himself.

"Senator, can I ask just one question?

"Shoot, partner. That's why you came, isn't it?"

"Is there any hope?"

Setting the glass on the table, Max cleared his throat and tapped his finger on the desk...

"Is there hope? Heh. Don't kid yourself. For hope we'd need something I've never seen: a man with nothing to lose; no skeletons in his closet or sound bites to be taken out of context; no scandals or criminal record or even 'alleged' activities. He'd need to be squeaky clean to get through the media, the public. Let's see...no doubt, no fear, no weakness. He'd require faith in nothing...he'd know everything. Ha. But hell, a man like that wouldn't need government anyway. He wouldn't need an election. His authority would be obvious and the election would just be a formality. Let's see, he'd have compassion, humility, dignity. Now, I want you to imagine such a man. Just imagine him. Do you think he'd last two minutes in this place? This world? Hell no! He'd have a blaze orange target on his back. He'd be a prize buck in an open field surrounded by starving hunters with machine guns. The guy would have a death wish. Ha, is there any hope? What kind of question is that..."

Max held his glass and paused, looking up at his portrait for several long moments.

"But, you know what, Marvin, there’s good news. If you can rule it out altogether, you'll have greater success than I ever did. Alright, you got what you came for. Now, get the hell out of here. I've got work to do."