The Summer to Come
So, this is the Friday morning to try to close out another breathtaking week. Well, if it were actually before noon and you were breathing when it started. Anyway, that is the context for why Splash grunted as he sat down under the brilliant blue skies that seemed to have an unexpected density. The air had absorbed the aftermath of the torrential rain and hail bombardment that accompanied the dying day before.
DeMille looked apprehensive, and our Watch Attorney Amanda was loaded for possible outbreaks of misinformation not approved by the new office- well, the old new office actually- but the one with the new name to approve acceptable public information and banish wrong-thinking.
Some of that has been known to occur out here in the country, so there was an edge to things that might be associated with the temperatures predicted to approach the century mark. “A hundred and humid!” growled Splash. “Summer is still four days away. Why the heck did they put DC in a Swamp?”
“Apparently it is one of the things that reliably floats on the Potomac.” Mild laughter accompanied his declaration, since some of the Writer’s Section were already perspiring. DeMille tried his calm face. He started the meeting by saying something non-controversial: “Russia’s all-out war of aggression in Ukraine drags on for a fourth consecutive month. There are calls for dangerous deals getting louder.” He paused at looked around the circle.
Melissa a sipping coffee. Splash looked ready to launch again. Loma and Rocket were looking at their phones.
Buck is our resident economist. He sighed. “The Administration is facing a double whammy after the European miscalculation. Namely, we are already in a Recession they won’t admit until next quarter. Oil prices alone have cut workers real pay by about 6% in just the last year.”
Amanda rose from her stone at the one o’clock position on The Ring. “A certain reference to Ukraine is unavoidable, but I cannot permit aspersions on legitimate policy decisions rightfully intended to drive Putin from power. We attempted to destroyhis capacity to make war and cut his economy in half. It was well intended even if it looks fallacious in retrospect.”
“That would be a lot of work before lunch,” said Loma, laconically.
There was more laughter and Rocket was moved to take a handkerchief from his back pocket and swipe moisture from his forehead. “There are more portents in the air.” He looked over at Amanda to see if portents, or discussion of what could be construed as such were prohibited before Happy Hour. She frowned but said nothing.
He decided to cloak his thoughts in the past. “We were watching The Crown on the DVR player last night. It is dramatic stuff. They did the Profumo Sex Scandal last night. It was a huge scandal sixty years ago when the Queen was still young. Watching it now, it seemed like a comedy. It was about a man who wanted to have sex with a young woman.”
There was some honest laughter to that one, considering everything else going on. We took a quick poll on the matter. Amanda said she would hit the “Redact” button on it if there was anything disloyal about comparing scandals between generations, so we felt free to go on.
Rocket was unusually animated this morning and continued after Melissa gave him a playful job in the ribs. “There is major media stuff going on. I have no idea who their attorneys are. One of the CNN personalities is supposed to be getting axed soon and some of the others have been sounding unusually like journalists for a change. It will be an interesting information campaign across the summer with some crazy entrails strewn everywhere.”
Buck seemed to absorb some of the energy. “The Divergent Information Streams are getting interesting. This is not the first indication of something new. The old broadcast media, the two newspapers and the three television networks have apparently had a bit of an awakening. Not that anything has changed, but they realize they have a product that isn’t selling. There is such vibrancy of opinion on the net, so many sources, that the two starkly opposed narrative streams have literally no crossover content.”
Loma waved a dog-eared copy of his Naval War College Review languidly before dropping it to the ground near his rock. “There was a decent article in the Winter issue about how it is difficult to assess exactly what is going on. A guy named Steve Cimbala claims we are in a bit of a pickle, since this is the first potential nuclear crisis managed in the information age.”
“Attempted to manage,” said Buck.
Amanda looked stern. He amended his remarks to stay out of the redacted column. “I understand it could be a warm summer which will be wisely managed by all those in charge.”
Amanda smiled. “I think that is a suitable conclusion which will only require a few deletions.”
There were nods of relief that could in no way be misconstrued as anything but unquestioning loyalty. “It’s simple, really,” said Buck. “It would be as if JFK and Khrushchev were moving rockets around on their Nintendos, you know? And neither one completely sure who wrote the algorithms.”
Amanda just frowned.
Copyright 2022 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com