fake anthem

A story about importance, or ordinary people becoming important?  A great theme with Trump in town today, so I thought I'd write a story around that.

The City was in confusion. Security like no-one had ever seen. Roads blocked, important buildings barricaded, barriers and police along every pavement, military helicopters lowering overhead, crowds milling everywhere. The Very Important Person was coming to the City to meet other Very Important Persons. The ordinary people were held back behind the barriers and corralled by the police. Some looked angry, some looked happy. There was shouting, there were placards, there were occasional scuffles between rival groups, between supporters of the Very Important Person and his denigrators. Strangely, it was the pros that were angry. The antis were having fun with their witty signs and jolly outfits and rude cartoons.

Some were just curious: here was a man with his grandson. He thought it safer to bring the boy among the antis, and the crowd had good humoredly allowed the old man and the young boy to push through to the front. Let the boy see the monster!

When I was your age, he had told the boy a few days earlier, my grandad brought me to the park and we watched and cheered as another Very Important Person drove by in an open top car. Grandad gave me a flag to wave and told me to shout out: I like Ike! The great man turned and caught my eye for a moment. It's one of my earliest memories. Of course, things were different then. Everyone respected authority, and he was a real hero of the war. This one? He's a draft dodger, isn't he? There was no security like nowadays.

The boy had pleaded with him. Can we go please grandad, can I wave a flag and shout like you did? Please? The old man told him that you wouldn't see much, just a flash of a big bullet-proof limousine. But the boy pleaded, so in the end he'd agreed. The boy had spent all the next morning finding out about the flag, then painstakingly creating his own handmade copy with paper and a stick his grandad gave him.

So there they were, pressed up against the barrier, surrounded by the crowd, who broke out into occasional chants and songs. The boy heard them singing a song from his favourite movie, one he'd watched lots of times with grandad. He'd even sung the song at his school's Christmas concert. But now they were singing it with different words. Why are you singing that, he asked one of the ladies beside him. It's the Very Important Person's anthem, she laughed.

They waited and waited, but the boy didn't get bored. He liked the friendly people and the chanting, and a policeman let him stand just where he got the best view, and occasionally police cars would race up and down the empty street with sirens wailing, and there were the helicopters buzzing over. Then he saw a man with a big camera coming down the street on the outside of the barrier, and another man with a microphone. He would stop here and there and ask someone in the crowd questions. He saw a sticker on the camera and it said Fox News. He liked foxes – sometimes when he looked out of his bedroom window at night he would see one silently slipping between cars in the street. As the men passed, the boy said to them, Do you make news for foxes? The men stopped and looked down at the boy, noticing him for the first time. The boy found the microphone pushed up close to his face.

Say that again, said the man. The boy repeated it and the man chuckled and said, No, we make real news for real people. He grinned over at the camera. Do you like real news? The boy nodded. So what do you think of fake news, son? I hate fake news, said the boy. Good for you, said the man: and did you make this flag yourself? The boy nodded. And do you know what it stands for? It has thirteen stripes for the states when it was made, and fifty stars for the states there are now, said the boy: and it stands for freedom and democracy. The man stood back up and turned to the camera with a very self satisfied smile. At last we have one supporter in the whole of this City! Suddenly there was a rush of noise, anticipation, cheering, booing: a dozen sleek limousines and vans flashed past and were gone.

The Very Important Person was fuming. In the residence where he was staying that evening he had asked for three TVs to be set up and he was flipping from one to the other: all of them showing this nasty little guy, one of the people he really hated in this god forsaken town, spouting his nasty little thoughts. Very dumb – spouting his fake news about me. This trip is meant to be about me, he said out loud. Why are they even showing this loser? The flunkies flinched, a little. Then something on one of the screens caught his attention: a small boy waving a hand made flag – his flag! He turned up the sound. The boy was saying, I hate fake news! That was more like it. The reporter was asking him about his flag. It stands for freedom and democracy, the boy was saying. Get me that boy, he shouted. The flunkies stood to attention and looked sidelong at each other. Get me that boy!

It was time to leave the City and the Very Important Person was on a podium, flanked by enormous gold fringed flags of his country, telling the assembled journalists and cameras what a triumph his visit had been. The cameras flashed their red lights, sending out their signals live around the world. Now everyone will know about the special friendship between our two countries, he said. Anyone who disagreed, like that dirty little loser on the TV last night, should just shut up peddling their fake news. I have met some Very Important People on this trip and they all loved me. And the ordinary people! Did you see the crowds? Amazing. And you know what? I have a big surprise for you – a very ordinary little person here who loves me and hates fake news! Yes, come on out, son! Yes it's the boy with the flag!

There was an audible delighted sigh even from this bunch of hardened hacks as the boy shyly appeared from the wings, with his little hand-made flag.

So you don't want anything to do with fake news, do you? No sir, the boy said almost inaudibly: my grandad said there's lots of fake news about climate change. Good on your grandad! Yes, sir, it's happening much faster than they let on. The visitor suddenly took a step back. He looked around the room. Kids eh? What do they know? So the flag, the flag. Tell me about the flag. You made this flag all by yourself, didn't you? Yes sir. It's beautiful, isn't it people? There was scattered clapping. The boy started to warm up: it was like the school concert. Only, he said, I couldn't do all the stars, I only did 32 because I ran out of space: it should have fifty! They all laughed. The boy liked the way he made them laugh. He started to smile. You did great, son. Isn't he cute? And to show you how good I think you are, I'm going to give you one of these wonderful flags at the back here to take home. What do you think of that? That's cool, Sir. I hope I can get it on the bus. More laughter. The boy was starting to love it now.

And you know the flag stands for freedom and truth don't you, boy? Do you know they call it the star spangled banner? Yes sir. And do you know the words of the Star Spangled Banner? The boy looked confused. Our national anthem? Your anthem sir? Yes! My anthem! The Very Important Person looked very pleased and gazed expansively around the assembled crowd. Impulsively he put his arms around one of the flags on the podium: My flag, my anthem! The boy watched him: he liked pleasing the visitor and the whole crowd. I know it sir, he said: do you want me to sing it? And he took a step forward and stood up straight, hands by his sides, just like at the Christmas concert, feeling very confident now, looking out at all the smiling faces. A flutter of anticipation swept around the room. In his high treble voice he sang out the words loud and clear: Super callous, fragile ego: Trump, you are atrocious!