A politician riding a bull destroyed my country

A politician riding a bull destroyed my country. That’s a sentence that would have been laughable a decade ago, but such is no longer the way of America in the golden age of social media. So before we learn about Wyatt Benson and his bull named Bob, let’s set the scene and say why the Republican from Louisiana decided to try for his 8 seconds atop a 2,000-pound bovine behemoth.

Conservatives have similar political ads. A dew covered field, luscious piney woods, and a statesman clad in camo and bright orange emerging from the woodland. He’s clutching a rifle and likely has another man with him. Perhaps a son, perhaps a friend, perhaps an actor hired for the role. They may be talking, their words lost under the smooth and reassuring tone of the narrator. No grandchildren here. That comes later.

The commercial softly fades to our politician either reading a Bible or singing at church. If our man is in a pew, he will be holding a hymnal and our narrator will speak of solid foundations built upon a rock of propriety and faith. His family will be with him in the pew; he will be alone if reading the Bible. Time with God is private.

Now we will be at a family dinner. Grandchildren will be next to grandad. There will be smiles and the passing of serving platters. The disembodied voice will assure you, the precious voter, that our candidate is against abortion, against gun control, against evil liberal policies, in favor of tough immigration, in favor of staunch penalties for criminals including the death penalty, and in love with God, family, and the Good Ole US of A. There will be a flag, red, white, and blue, and a rousing crescendo of music aimed to pull on the heart strings of conservative voters. “Elect me,” the commercials say. “I’m just like you.”

Candidates follow this basic template with only slight variation because they have to “out-conservative” one another. Their base fears the unknown and devalues difference. The conservative craves familiarity, and their candidates know this. It’s why a politician will start going by “Ted” instead of “Rafael,” even though that’s not the name his Momma gave him.

This was the way of things in the conservative America until Wyatt Benson came along and rode a 2,000-pound bull named Bob.

Wyatt’s strategy was unique for a politician. He was honest. He told the crowd exactly what he thought, and that turned out to be what they wanted to hear. He also didn’t care for the soft touch like his contemporaries. Wyatt went deeper and stoked the fears and anger many voters held in the scarred, dark parts of their hearts.

Political advertisement 1 – The Bull

Wyatt, a candidate for one of hundreds of political jobs in the state (does it really matter which one?), appeared on screen, a cowboy hat on his head, khaki leather gloves on his hands, and a red plaid shirt covering his frame. Jeans and boots completed the ensemble. He looks at the camera, there's no music, and gives his name and the office he’s seeking. The chute opens and Bob the Bull starts abuckin,’ and Wyatt is thrown about like the proverbial rag doll. One long shot, and Wyatt manages to sit astride Bob’s back for a count of three before the politician is thrown into the air and comes down hard on his side. Bob bucks around, kicking all about and looking to damage anyone in his vicinity.

Wyatt picked himself up quickly and ran toward the camera. Bob saw the fleeing figure; Wyatt jumped, pulled his legs up and over the gate just as Bob crashed his broad side into the metal divide. The bull snorted and moved on. The camera centered on Wyatt, the handsome middle-aged man was panting and smiling, and he missed no beats as the closeup fell on his sweating face. “I’m Wyatt Benson, and I am you.” Campaign logo. Fade to black.

The world changed with that political advertisement even if the world didn’t know it yet.

Political advertisement 2 – The Reading Room

Wyatt is reading a novel, a real one, crinkled with yellowing dog-eared pages. Thin reading glasses rest on his nose. He is reclined comfortably in an oversized chair. He’s wearing a long sleeved t-shirt adorned with the crest of the state flagship university. He’s alone. All is quiet. A page turns. And then a crash from the distance, hushed voices, and off screen the audience hears, “I told you Jamal. He aint here. Place is empty.” Now Wyatt closes his book, quietly lowers his footrest, and looks at the camera. “I will always defend your second amendment rights.” He reaches to the side of his chair, and his hand comes back with a massive six-shot hand cannon. Back to the camera: “I’m Wyatt Benson, and I am you.” He stands, leaving the chair rocking slightly. Campaign logo. Gunshots. Lingering on the chair for two more seconds. Fade to black.

Political advertisement 3 – The Home

We open in an empty kitchen. It’s farmhouse style. White cabinets with a white sink. No divide in the basin. A sign with a biblical scripture: 1 Timothy 2:12. Wyatt emerges. He is quiet, pensive. He leans against the counter, the hum of the dishwasher is heard. A cross fade shows scenes from the 1960s women's liberation movement. Cut to children being bullied, men sitting forlornly in a bar, a woman dancing on a pole with men throwing money at her feet. Words flash. “Family,” “destruction,” “man and wife,” “bitter,” “sad,” “drug use,” “prostitution.” And then a clip from Leave it to Beaver. Dinner around the table. Cut back to Wyatt. “Women belong at home, men belong at work. Look at what we have wrought with our ‘progress’,” he says, making air quotes on the last word. “Let’s get back to the home God intended.” A call from off-camera, “honey, dinner is ready.” Wyatt smiles. “One sec, dear.” Back to us. “I’m Wyatt Benson, and I am you.” Campaign logo. Wyatt’s voice low and in the background, “looks delicious.” Kids laughter. Fade to black.

Political advertisement 4 – The Border

Wyatt is walking alone in the Texas desert. A white long-sleeve western shirt, jeans and dirty, weather worn boots fit his frame. He is lean and hard. He’s wearing a white cowboy hat, large and dark gold-rimmed sunglasses. A rifle is slung over one shoulder. He’s humming a tune. It’s “The Old Rugged Cross.” A rumble sounds and draws near. Rocks crunch and a cloud of dust kicks up as a pickup truck slides to a stop at the politician’s side. “What you doin out here, fella?” asks a substantial man in a red baseball cap. He’s got a full goatee and is wearing those sports shades you see on outfielders in baseball. He has two compatriots, one riding shotgun and the other holding onto a roll bar bolted to the top of the vehicle. There’s silence. Then from Wyatt: “I’m from Louisiana and I thought you boys could use a hand with your illegal alien problem.” The one in the truck bed asks Wyatt what kinda rifle “he had there.” Wyatt told him, and added “it was my daddy’s and his daddy’s before.” The guy riding shotgun nods at his friend behind the wheel, and the driver says, “get on in.” Wyatt moves to the back of the truck and checks the chamber of his weapon. Our driver - “what’s your name, friend?” Wyatt smiles, takes off his glasses and looks into the camera. “I’m Wyatt Benson, and I am you.” Campaign logo. Truck roars. Fade to black.

Political advertisement 5 – The Bedroom

A bedroom. Soft light. Romantic instrumental music. Flowers on the pillows. A stunningly beautiful woman in a silk nightgown lies on the bed, resting on one elbow in a seductive pose. She smiles at someone off camera. Enter Wyatt. He’s wearing a sleeveless gray tank top. He has a strong, wiry frame. Muscles ripple in his arms. His olive complexion contrasts with his salt and pepper close cut hair. He looks at the camera. “God made man and woman for each other.” A shot of the woman lightly tracing the side of her outer thigh. “Love outside of marriage is a sin. Man lying with man is a sin. It’s a perversion and hellfire follows it.” The woman purrs his name and pats his side of the bed. He smiles and looks at us. “I’m Wyatt Benson, and I am you.” He disappears from frame, and the camera focuses on a cross that had been hidden from view. Campaign logo. The woman giggles. Fade to black.

Wyatt made several more advertisements in the same spirit. One featured him leaving a restaurant because a transgendered man waited on him and the woman from the bedroom. There were kids in this advertisement (his?). Another saw him lamenting a controversial and politicized vaccine. He spoke of government tracking and the Mark of the Beast from the book of Revelations. A third advertisement focused on the villainy of raising taxes on hard working Americans who had achieved their dream. “Taxation is theft,” he says at one point. “Don’t take our money and give it to the crackheads and Section 8 trash.” This went on and subjects included Islam, Nationalism, Isolationism, Revenge, and the retribution of God and His righteous warriors.

Wyatt was world-wide news. Segments of the media railed against him. Others praised him. Organizations marched against him and called for boycotts of networks who gave him airtime. His name was household and he was more divisive than any politician in history. Conservative voters overwhelmingly supported him. Those conservatives who did not were called traitors by the others. Tensions escalated and soon voters killed other voters. Riots ensued. The National Guard was activated across the country, and Wyatt just made commercials laughing and encouraging more violence against those who hated America and hated God. And all the while, his rhetoric and internet presence grew. After the second advertisement, only the news channels with right wing slants would air his commercials. They stayed with him until the riots and killings began. But it mattered not, for the internet was a better way to reach people than television ever had been. And so his followers were fruitful and multiplied.

He didn’t give public speeches, instead relying on his powerful digital presence. He was so flush with cash that, win or lose in Louisiana, he had enough campaign funds to mount a presidential campaign. So that’s what he did. One day he appeared on a live stream, hosted on a site launched in his honor and now receiving more visitors a day than Youtube, and announced he was withdrawing from his race because he was focused on the presidency and returning America to a nation under God and His people.

That was one year ago.

Yesterday, Wyatt Benson was inaugurated as president of the United States. He won the election with 100 million votes. Martial law was declared this morning, and no one is allowed to leave their homes. Sirens have sounded and gunfire echoes in the day and in the dark. The smell of smoke is heavy in the air and crying can be heard in pockets of resistance all across the land. Some networks are off the air, but those broadcasting are running highlights of the Benson Plan. There are smiles all around and phrases being uttered that have never before been spoken on American live television. It won’t be long now before the knocks start coming on doors, televised trials, and public executions. It's in the Benson Plan, or as he called it yesterday during his first political speech, America’s Final Solution.

The disease was born in the Deep South. It spread nationwide and Americans rejoiced as the patient died. A politician riding a bull destroyed my country.

-30-