This is an original piece written today Jan. 20th

This is an original piece written today.
January Twentieth.

I am an Unoriginal by Miles Boucher.
I am an Unoriginal by Miles Boucher.
“I am an Unoriginal by Miles Boucher.”

Everything that follows this statement is mostly true. I swear.
If there is a way to carbon date this you could check.
But, don’t check.
It’s my journal.

It’s all so theatrical now.

(fixes glasses)

The Lights,
The Sounds,
The Churches,
The Politics.

This is a selection from President Elect Donald J. Trump’s Speech.
January Twentieth, Two Thousand Seventeen, Twelve Oh One P.M.
It’s true. I swear.

(turns page)

We John Cade, so tearmed of our supposed Father.

For our enemies shall faile before us, inspired with the spirit of putting down Kings and Princes. Command Silence.

My Father was a Mortimer.
My Mother a Plantagenet.
My wife descended of the Lacies.
Therefore am I of an honorable house.

Valiant I am.
I am able to endure much.
I fear neither sword, nor fire.
Be brave then, for your Captaine is Brave, and Vows Reformation.

(turns page).

There shall be in England seven half penny loaves sold for a penny: the three hooped pot shall have ten hoopes, and I will make it a felony to drink small Beer.

All the Realm shall be in Common, and in Cheapside shall my Palfrey go to grasse: and when I am King, as King I will be.

I thank you good people.

There shall be no money, all shall eat and drink on my score, and I will apparel them all in one Livery, that they may agree like Brothers, and worship me, their Lord.

The first thing we do, let’s kill all the Lawyers.

(turns page)

Is not a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent Lambe should be made Parchment, that Parchment being scribbled o’er, should undo a man.

Some say the Bee stings, but I say ’tis the Bee’s wax: for I did but seal once to a thing, and I was never mine own man since.

(turns page)

Now, some of you might suspect that I am lying.
And some of you…would be right.
But, I’m no longer sure which are which.
So I googled it.

Inevitably I end up on Youtube.
The Comment Section.
(Oh,) have you heard of it?

In nonsensical order:

“Get off the Stage! Be respectful.
Stop disrespecting.
Give him a chance.
What do you expect?!

Bigot! Racist.
Sexist. Rapist.
Go ahead and die.
You should be raped.
You should die.
Deleted. Deleted.
Deleted.
Deleted.
Deleted.
Deleted
Deleted.

Hitler.”

It’s true. I swear.

(Exit Stage)

The Grinch!

Let me tell you about Christmas:

Nobody gets Christmas like I do.

See, Christmas, is wholly and completely consumed by capitalism.

See, back in the way back when, we had this little thing called “Sol Invictus” or “Saturnalius” depending on whether your gods wore togas or drank mead from skulls. Anyway, it was all about the long cold winters and the fear, the very real fear that everything would die in the dark and in the cold without the light of the sun.

Because every year, people didn’t know if the sun was coming back or not.

So on December Twenty-Five , the longest and coldest day of the year, everyone would huddle around, cut boughs off evergreens, bring them inside, and pray that the sun would return.

They didn’t know better. They didn’t know that the shortest day of the year was actually the Twenty-First and that the length of the day is based on the earth’s orbit around the sun in relation to its axis.

So, basically idiots. But, …well meaning idiots.

Nevertheless, “Christmas” was all about love and warmth and kindness, right? Wrong. It was about keeping out the cold. It was about when is the sun gonna come back?

Well, we know better today don’t we? We’re so smart that we know better, don’t we? We know the sun will return. Because we’re not idiot like them, right?

Wrong-o.

See, nowadays we have to keep the spirit alive. Because we worship the dollar. The big, fat King Dollar Bill.  And He is a fickle god isn’t He? We don’t know if He will ever come back do we?  Do we? No no no no no noooooooooo….

So what do we do? What do we do? We buy presents. We buy tinsel. And lights. And stockings. And stocking stuffers. And trees, because weren’t those other idiots quaint back in the olden days?

And here we are, hiding in our homes, trying to keep out the starving, the destitute, the poor…

Just buying presents to prove that we can, buying presents to prove that we’re not like them, buying presents hoping that one day we won’t have this fear inside of us.

Guess what? It’ll pass. Someday, we’ll figure out the laws of economics just like we figured out the laws of astronomy.

And then we’ll move on to something new. Something else to keep out the cold.

But, til then, you’ve got me.

I am the cold, the hungry, and the poor.

I am the forgotten, the lonely, the destitute…

Me?

I’m the Grinch.