[These letters were compiled by Gabe Hudson, Jessica Rabinowitz, and Kevin Feeney.]
Dear Mr. President,
Why is your official campaign merchandise made in Myanmar?
Sincerely,
Sara Rubenstein
Dear Mr. President,
I’d like to tell you about my cousin, Jay.
When my aunt, who was recently divorced, moved in with my family after Jay was born, they lived with us in Texas for what seems like several years, although I think in reality it was closer to a year and a half.
A few years after Jay and Aunt Sharon moved back to Michigan, my family followed them. Jay and I were closest in age and none of our older cousins wanted to play with “the babies.” So, we made our own games and had our own fun. We made blanket forts in our grandmother’s basement and told scary and fantastic stories about the world outside our cave or boat or whatever the fort was on that day.
We grew older. I introduced Jay to the joys of science fiction novels. He loved Orson Scott Card’s “Ender’s Game.” When Jay graduated from high school, he decided to join the Army, following in the footsteps of his uncle, my father. It seemed logical for a young man who wasn’t sure where he wanted to go with his life to join the military. He would get, according to the commercials, valuable training and experience, plus college money under the GI Bill.
Jay loved military life. He thrived under the pressure and the demands. He met a wonderful girl named Susan. They fell in love and decided to marry, despite apprehensive parents. Not only was the situation in the Middle East heating up, meaning that Jay might have to leave her for long periods at a time, but they were both young, barely 20. Nevertheless, they got married on the Army base at Fort Riley, Kansas.
When Jay’s time was up, he decided to re-enlist. And then you, Mr. President, declared war on Iraq, for reasons you knew to be spurious.
Jay served in Iraq for a year, leaving his wife and family behind to fight a war that was based on lies.
He came home a few months ago, on a short leave. He looked haunted, and hunted. The burdens of what he had done in Iraq slumped his shoulders and lowered his head. He rarely met anyone’s eyes. I don’t know if time can ever erase these scars on his mind and soul.
Sincerely,
Anastazya Pencak
Dear Mr. President,
Knock it off. Seriously, dude.
Sincerely,
God
Dear Mr. President,
I am Catholic. I work alongside a Jew and a Muslim in a relatively small office. The tension is beginning to get to me. The other day, I caught one typing what looked to be longitude and latitude coordinates into her computer. I immediately held an intervention where nothing much was accomplished. The only thing I could get them to agree on is that the South Beach diet seems to work. Please advise.
Sincerely,
P. Cummings
Dear Mr. President,
I sense that you are someone who has never found his true path. I think you would have made a great bar owner—sort of a colorful and fun local character. With some counseling, I think you could become more self-aware. You could become a happy and productive member of society. Have you ever tried CBT? It is a new therapy that is particularly effective. I am sure a therapist near you practices it. If not, I would be happy to give you my therapist’s number. Ciao for now.
Sincerely,
Maria Matan
Dear Mr. President,
Hi. I like politics and I want to become President in 2032.
Sincerely,
Patrick S. Sheridan
Dear Mr. President,
My U.S. History teacher says that if I write a letter to you, I will get Extra Credit. Then maybe I will pass and even graduate. I can go to journalism school and maybe even become a correspondent in Iraq. On the Spanish channel they spell Iraq “Irak.” I think that it is funny. However I do not think it is funny that so many people die out there.
Sincerely,
Jessica Ferrara
Dear Mr. President,
I had an amazing revelation this evening!
I was just sitting down to dinner to watch the continuing episode of CNN’s “Former President Reagan Is Dead At 93,” starring Wolf Blitzer and Paula Zahn, when coverage went live to YOU, in France apparently. You acknowledged the cameras, and began reading a statement that referenced some old Reagan speech about a “Shining City.”
When I saw you speaking to the camera, trying your best to look “solemn,” that’s when it dawned on me! You are doing a straight-up William Shatner impression; a near perfect impersonation of the Canadian actor’s recitation-of-lines prowess from his old days on “Star Trek.” It is uncanny. I just about spit out my Chianti, choking in awe. Now I get it. This guy—Shatner as Captain Kirk—is your idol. You have morphed into him in an almost Zelig-like way … or should I say, like the Salt-Monster Woman that Bones was in love with … remember that episode? Anyway, she was a shape-shifter, and that’s my point. I think you see yourself as this swashbuckling, intensely moral, hotheaded but well-meaning leader with over 400 crewmen to look after. It goes even further, with Condoleezza as Uhura. Not sure who’s Spock in your administration—or if you even have one. Clearly Dick Cheney is “Bones” …
That guy Kerry would make a good Spock. He’s totally got the hair down. And he’s tall and a bit stiff and awkward. He’s probably got the nerve-pinch down, too, so watch out! Anyway, a bipartisan ticket would be revolutionary. Think about that! You and Kerry-Spock could strive to influence an entire nation with your “Star Trek” ways. Lead by example instead of ordering people about, sending kids to war, whatever. It’s so crazy, it just might work.
Put your heads together and get with the program—THE STARFLEET PROGRAM! Save the Federation … I mean, This Great Country Of Ours. America.
So, consider this, Mr. President—from one Star Trek fan to another. There is always an option, an alternative, a way out. A possibility. Ease up on the whole “anti-Gay” thing too—"infinite diversity in infinite numbers"—remember that? What kind of Federation are you running here?
Get the lead out and bring the troops home.
And don’t stint on the foxy green chicks while you’re at it.
Sincerely,
Mick Stingley
Dear Mr. President,
When I think of you and your presidency I get a really pesky itch in my scalp which doesn’t go away until I wash it with this really good shampoo from The Body Shop with tea tree oil in it. I end up washing my hair a lot.
Sincerely,
Lindsay Grace
[NOTE: The opinions expressed in these letters do not necessarily represent those of McSweeney’s, Knopf, Vintage, Kevin Feeney, Jessica Rabinowitz, or Gabe Hudson.]