Is George Saunders trying to kill me?

Yes, he is. With the funniness.

A brief sample of this week’s Shouts & Murmurs, “Proclamation”:

My friends, I am a simple man. That is why you elected me. I have never been anywhere other than our beloved country. I actually haven’t even been to that many places here in our beloved country. I have pretty much been here in my beloved house, non-stop, since the seventies. In my beloved room. With the door locked. Having nightmares in which Hulk Hogan is waiting outside my room—look, as for Hulk Hogan, do not mention his name ever again! He will be referred to, if we even need to refer to him, which I doubt, as “Blond Blondie, Big Blondie!” In this way, we will disrespect him! In this way, he will be driven from my dreams! No more sneaking up behind me, “Blond Blondie, Big Blondie!,” and putting me in a headlock, and I am naked, and have forgotten to study for all my exams!

No. For us, all Western decadence is finished. McDonald’s, chief villain of the American imperialist program, will henceforth be known as “Burger King.” That will really mess with everybody’s head. Some enemy of the revolution here in Tehran goes into a McDon— Do we still even have McDonald’s? I used to really like the cheeseburgers. The “snack that is surprisingly caloric because, you sense, there is even sugar in the bun.” Anyway, some enemy of the revolution goes into a McDonald’s, orders a Big Mac, and—ha ha!—he is really in Burger King. I love it! He is undone.

Oh, it hurts. Go read the whole thing while I laugh myself into an early grave.

5 thoughts on “Is George Saunders trying to kill me?

  1. George Saunders=love. Seriously. He is a synonym for total love.

    I read that story on the bus and ended up reading it aloud for the #19, because so many people asked what I was guffawing over. No one seemed to get it. I became another crazy bus person. Thanks a lot, Saunders. Thanks a lot.

    • A few weeks ago, after posting this piece, my Saunders crush took over my Better Judgment and typing fingers and made me send him an email that said, basically, “I luuuurve you and I put you in my blog!” I spent the next few hours wishing I had a locker I could bang my head against, which is how I got through these moments back in high school. But then I got a very nice email reply from him and I spent the rest of the day swooning.

      George Saunders turns me into a huge mess of quivering dork.

      And your story about reading aloud to the bus made me laugh too hard all over again.

  2. Your sense of humor is too weird. I might be too intellectual to see “hulk hogan” and a locked room to be anything more than “get this guy serious medical help soon.”


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