Psst! Mr. President! I hope I'm not interrupting a Tweet. I can see the light of your phone in the dark - casting a little glow over the desk in the Oval Office. I didn't vote for you, Mr. President, but I'd still like to offer you a few kind words about the White House light switches.
The press can get so picky - relishing those stories about you guys holding staff meetings in the dark, because no one could figure out how the light switches work. I mean, geez, those reporters made it sound like you guys were just fumbling around in the dark, trying over and over again to get the lights to go on. They were gloating over the image of you panicking - in so far over your head you became paralyzed by dread - unable to admit you didn't know something and ask for help.
The press should lighten up on you, Mr. Prez (oops, the pun was unintentional). I mean, you're a billionaire. What do they think you're gonna do, talk to a janitor?
I say the press oughta show you a whole lot more appreciation. Here you are - an accidental president. And just days after your inauguration, you accidentally handed historians the perfect metaphor with which to characterize your administration. No doubt, Mr. Prez, those overly educated clowns will jump all over you for failing to read daily intelligence briefings, school yourself in the three branches of government, the system of checks and balances, and on and on.
They'll be falling all over themselves to come up with examples of willful ignorance. But thanks to you, they will not have to search for a metaphor, because you so graciously handed it to them. In fact, you didn't just say the metaphor, you showed it! How often does that happen? It's as if Bill O'Reilly ended a newscast by jumping up on the anchor chair and lighting his pants on fire.
I say, forget history. Ignore the press. Those reporters got it all wrong. Your approach to the workings of the White House light switches was so elegant and entrepreneurial, it went right over their heads. After one flick and no lights, you had it all figured out.
You realized that you were never promised lights. You were merely promised access to lights. You know, just like the ACA. Pity those sick (no metaphor here) fools who assume they will get heath care, because Republicans are promising them access to health care.
Hah! You immediately realized that light switches (just like Republican health care plans) are for chumps. You were not about to fall for a glitzy bit of showmanship - look at those light switches placed so provocatively along the walls, clearly intended to seduce the naive into expecting light. You, sir, will never be taken in by such an obvious sales pitch. Your entrepreneurial genius lies in your understanding that people crave glamour. They value it more than substance. Give them enough sizzle, they'll forget about the steak. You figured those lights switches were intended as an exercise in branding - just like Trump wine, Trump steaks, Trump University.
Given your business acumen, your dismissal of the possibility that the light switches might work was entirely understandable. Nay, it was admirable. You were not flummoxed by the White House light switches. You finessed those light switches in just the same way you intend to finesse your presidency.
I say, Mr. Prez, forget the lights. There are so many advantages to remaining in the dark.
The next time you're accused of ripping a page out of the Constitution and wiping your ass with it, just throw your tiny hands in the air, shrug your shoulders, and say - how could I know? I was sitting in the dark!
It will be so much easier to believe you are still in Trump Tower. Whenever you encounter a disagreeable congressperson, just yell - you're fired!
Keep the lights off. Your press secretary can pretend not to see any members of the media he doesn't want to talk to.
If the CIA nags you about reading daily intelligence briefings, you have a readymade excuse - you've been sitting in the dark.
Oh, and speaking of reading, since you've already the Bible, and The Art of the Deal, why waste your time on any more books? How boring. It's not as if Abe Lincoln might've learned anything about slavery by reading the Autobiography of Frederick Douglass.
Mr. Prez, when you're not wasting time trying to read, you have so much more free time to Tweet and watch TV. Just sit back, put your feet up, grab the remote, and turn on Saturday Night Live.