This Island Mess

We’re still reeling from Old Leader’s televised interview. All of us on the island watched as the interviewer, Cassie Carmichael, fresh out of college with a journalism degree, conducted the discussion. I have the transcript:

Interviewer: Sir, you said that drinking candle wax was good for us. You said, ‘Wax coats your organs to keep germs from attacking the body.’ Do you really believe —  

Old Leader: I think that all the world leaders should eat potato chips.

Interviewer: Uh huh. Sir, you also said, ‘Candles make the air smell nice, so they’d decrease bad natural body odors and make our bodies give off positive smells after we drink it.’

Old Leader: There should be more commercials about potato chips. Heh, heh, heh.

Interviewer: Sir, don’t you think these are dangerous claims?

Old Leader: I’m going to write a commercial showing all the world’s leaders sitting together and eating potato chipsss. Heh, heh, heh. Potato chips can cure the world of war because everyone would be busy watching commercials about potato chips, so they’d be too busy to talk about war. Heh heh heh.

Interviewer: Uh huh. Sir, where did you get the idea that drinking candle wax was good for you? Did you consult anyone in the medical profession? Where is the clinical research for this?

Old Leader: I’m going to write a musical about the island. It’ll be a great musical. The greatest musical ever written. A musical the likes of which Broadway on the mainland has never seen.

(Produces keyboard, pounds notes, nods head with each pound of the note.)

Old Leader: Here comes the We Can Handle the Candle Wax group. Also known as ‘The Waxxers.’ I love them. They support everything I say and do.

(Plays high notes.)

Old Leader: Here comes the Wax Attacks group. Wakes. They're idiots.

(Plays lower keys.)

Old Leader: They’re jerks because they disagree with me. They should be sent to another island. Exiled. No one has ever used that word before. It’s a great word. Exiled. The Wakes should leave the island for good.

I watched as the interviewer, passive, sat helplessly while Old Leader nodded his head with each press of a key as if to punctuate each entrance – listing characters and policies while pressing and nodding. Each aspect had its own nod and group of keys.

Old Leader: Here’s the ID policy. No one can come to the musical without an ID that has my picture on it. No picture ID, no musical.

(Plays notes, nods.)

Interviewer: Sir, we can discuss your musical later —

Old Leader: You’re a little jealous. I get it. My work is more important than yours.

(Puts away keyboard.)

Interviewer: Well…my work is different from yours, not less important. Aside from drinking wax, you talked about deporting our blue-eyed immigrants.

Old Leader: If someone in a war-torn country wants to come to our island for freedom and work, we’ll send them to another country. Sure, they may not speak the language, and they’ll feel alone and scared, but their country shouldn’t have been at war to begin with. Blue eyes have the recessive gene, which means other eye colors are stronger. We need a strong island. The strongest island. An island the likes of which the world has never seen. We can create our own candles, and we won’t purchase any candles from any other nation or island. All countries are horrible jerks anyways.

Interviewer: (under her breath) Anyway. Sir, the Blue Eyes are so good at making candles. Does anyone on the island have the kind of creative mind that can come up with such beauty?

Old Leader: I’m creative. I’m the most creative person alive. I invented the word ‘creative.’ ‘Creative.’ Such a good word. I have the best words.

Interviewer: Ok, well, you keep working on that musical; it’s sure to be a hit.

Wide-eyed with exasperation, the interviewer looked at the camera operator and made a cutting motion with her hand against her throat. The interview ended.

Old Leader continued working on his musical. He used taxpayers’ money for choreographers, singers, dancers, and musical instruments. He mollified his followers by saying that the musical would be beneficial to all people worldwide. “It will boost our economy. People from all around the world will pay to see my musical.” His followers cheered. The others held their Wax Attacks signs up high as they booed.

The Waxxers loved him and they loved musicals. They thought, no, they knew, that Old Leader was a gift from God. They drank the candle wax, while the “gift from God” escaped in a garbage trawler as his people lay near death in the island hospitals.

The island was a mess. That’s the best way to describe it. Spilled wax was hardening on the streets and beaches.

We elected New Leader and immediately felt sorry for him. He inherited the island mess. He had to fix everything, which could take decades.

New Leader promoted his “Small Steps” initiative. He focused on one thing at a time to change. At his first Island Status speech, he led a conference with several members of the medical profession. They explained how and why drinking candle wax was dangerous.

The president of the candle company spoke at the conference. “I’m appalled. We paid Old Leader millions to promote good health through wax. If you keep people from drinking candle wax, we’ll go bankrupt!”

New Leader explained that people can enjoy candlelight without drinking it.

A Waxxer watched the conference, hand poised, about to drink, and said, “Wait. The wax company paid him to promote drinking this? It’s really bad for you?” She slammed the candle holder on the table and picked up a blank piece of poster board and wrote “Wax Attacks,” placing the sign in her window for all to see.

A surgeon spoke, “You realize, don’t you, that under Old Leader’s policies, big wax is funding our hospitals. They want you to end up dying!”

A factory owner stood and shouted, “My wax factory employed many people who came from war-torn countries. The Blue Eyes were rounded up like animals and deported without any investigation. They were all good workers. They were good people. Please, New Leader, bring them back. Let them in. We can make scented candles and sell them here and to other countries!”

“Old Leader called every other nation and island ‘jerks,’ and people remember that. We’ll have to be extremely diplomatic,” New Leader said. “The core of our island, our backbone, is the person who comes here from another place. A place where the person doesn’t feel welcome and safe. We will show others that we welcome the exhausted, the destitute, the gathered multitude wanting to breathe our air – scented with delightful candles. We’ll start a good neighbor policy and send all foreign governments a free candle.”

The crowd applauded. Well, not everyone. There was a kerfuffle in the back. Someone shouted “Wax freedom! Wax freedom!” “You can’t handle my candle wax!” “Let this candlelight of mine shine!” “My body, my wax!”

The New Leader’s aide spoke quietly. “The Waxxers are here. Do you want me to send in the Island Guard?” Then, without waiting for an answer, the aide shouted, “Get the Island Guard!”

New Leader put his hand on his aide’s arm. He spoke quietly to the crowd, “It’s fine. I listen to all island people, not just the ones who voted for me.”

More applause and cheers.

More shouts from dissenters, “Close our borders! The Blue Eyes are taking over the island!”

New Leader made a decision that he didn’t want to make, but it was the only way to keep peace with both his followers and non-followers. It was also the only way to bring back the workers who contributed to the island’s growth.

New Leader took a breath. “My people,” he started, “I hesitated to tell you this, but you deserve the truth. The truth is —”

The aide looked at him, his head tilted. New Leader looked at his aide. He stared, wide eyed, then looked at the crowd.

“The truth is,” he continued, “Drinking wax – causes blindness. You —” he pointed at 80-year-old Mr. Bridge. “You drank some wax. Right?”

“Yes,” the old man said, “I did. Just a little. Nothing bad happened to me.”

“Yes, but you need – glasses, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes. Oh God, yes, I do. He’s right,” Mr. Bridge shouted at the crowd, “Drinking wax causes blindness!”

The crowd gasped.

Later, in New Leader’s office, the aide said, “That was brilliant, Sir. Good adlib.”

“I don’t like lying. It’s just what Old Leader would do, and I don’t want to be like him in any way. I’m going to tell the truth.”

“No, Sir, don’t. Let the lie live and breathe. You’re nothing like Old Leader and you never will be. Let it go, Sir, let it go. It’s better for the people. The Waxxers are already on board.”

“They still think that the Blue Eyes are taking over the island, which is absolutely preposterous.” New Leader looked helplessly at his aide. “I feel like I’ve inherited Old Leader’s one good skill. Lying.”

The aide shrugged. “I understand how you feel, but you need another lie. You’re a good man, a good leader. People will believe you.”

“I could just tell them the truth. The Blue Eyes aren’t taking over. They’re just here living their lives, working, contributing to society.”

“The Wax Attacks people tried that several times. The Waxxers don’t listen. They hurl insults and complain about faux info coming from 'the Wake,' the aide countered, making air quotes with his hands. “Time for another lie, Sir.”

“I hate this. I truly hate this.”

New Leader asked me for help; I’m his speech writer.

New Leader addressed the crowd during his next Island Status speech. “The Blue Eyes have – special – powers. I’ve seen it. You’ve all seen it. Candles were being made. So many shapes and sizes. Scented, unscented. They made candle holders out of clay, metal, and plastic. It takes a unique talent, a – special – power to create these beautiful and useful gifts. Who is left to make the candles and holders?”

“We don’t know how!” the crowd shouted. “We don’t have that special power!”

“The Blue Eyes will make the candles for you. We’ll give them citizenship tests that they’d have to pass to live here. No one will be rounded up and deported without an investigation.”

A Wax Attacker spoke up. “I’m a retired teacher. I can get my retired teacher friends together to start tutoring workshops for the Blue Eyes. We’ll teach island history, civics, and political science.”

The islanders liked that idea and the tutoring workshops began to take form.

Later, the aide said, “It worked, Sir. They believe the ‘special powers’ of blue-eyed immigrants.”

“What special powers? Anyone can accomplish anything if a group is working together. How come they don’t know that?”

“When someone in power makes a claim, it sounds like a good idea. They like it.”

New Leader’s lies are beneficial lies.

That’s good.

Right?