This is how we forget what we think

This really happened. The office of a certain president sent a message to the naval commanders at a distant outpost: the Big Man was coming for a visit, so it was essential that one particular ship be hidden from his gaze for the duration of his stay.

The ship’s crime? It was named after one of his political opponents, and if he saw it, even from a very great distance, even if the name was too small to read, even though his opponent was now deceased, the Big Man would get angry.

Was this Joseph Stalin in 1936? Was it Idi Amin in 1977? No. It was Donald Trump, last week, arriving in Japan swaddled against upsetting thoughts thanks to an instruction from the White House to the Seventh Fleet to “minimise the visibility” of the USS John S McCain” during his visit.

To be fair, it was either move the ship or distract him by dangling Big Macs over him from some sort of mobile.

But still, if banishing a name sounds like something straight out of the Stalin playbook, you ain’t seen Russian yet.

Because no sooner had the Pentagon confirmed the incident than it took its own trip into Stalinesque delusion, sternly reminding the White House that the US defence department “will not be politicised”. I assume they left off “starting now”.

Then again, maybe the people who fight America’s wars for the personal gain of politicians and their donors genuinely do believe that they are somehow not the armed wing of prevailing political interests but more like the A-Team, just a group of righteous dudes protecting the little guy from sneering character actors.

It’s hard to tell, especially when the surrealism starts hitting the fan.

Because of course, Trump’s shipstorm wasn’t even the most absurd thing to come out of the US in the last fortnight.

That honour goes to the US energy department, whose press release transformed liquefied natural gas into “freedom gas”. Yes sir, the US isn’t just exporting energy.

It’s passing freedom gas straight into your face. That bracing smell? Those are “molecules of US freedom”.

I kid you not. Finally we know what the smallest amount of American freedom is, coming in just below a child in a cage.

I don’t blame you if these stories passed you by. We have enough of our own nonsense to contend with, such as Jacob Zuma’s invitation, extended to us via Twitter on Friday, to write a hagiography for him.

According to an attached document from the Jacob G Zuma Foundation, a book is being put together “on the impact and influence of the former president, HEJGM Zuma on generations of ordinary South Africans and leaders”, and anyone who has crossed paths with the president is urged to submit a chapter.

(I assume HE is the official version of Heh Heh Heh. I also assume that, while the offer is open to all generations, most submissions will come from older people, because thanks to his presidency nobody under nine can read or write.)

I’m sure there are many South Africans who would love to contribute their thoughts on Zuma, but unfortunately submissions have to be at least one page, so two-word essays – or slightly longer ones – telling him where he can stick his legacy, probably aren’t going to be included.

Well, unless you make the font very, very big, like in one of his state of the nation addresses. And to be fair, those were ultimately just two-word essays, so why not?

Trump; freedom gas; Zuma trying to build a monument out of trash.

It’s all grimly funny. But I think it is important not to laugh and move on, as if something has been resolved.

This is how our critical faculties die: in a relentless torrent of bullshit. They hold on for as long as they can, but eventually they are eroded.

Nobody can remain evenkeeled in this shower of absurd lies, doublespeak and kindergarten pouting masquerading as statesmanship.

I’ve felt the slippage myself as the bar gets lowered so far that politicians only need to be average to look good.

Because Cyril Ramaphosa isn’t actively insulting educated people (Zuma, J, 2012) or happily admitting he’d hit a gay man who appeared in front of him (Zuma, J, 2006), he’s feeling like a statesman.

Simply saying “liquid natural gas” now makes you sound like a scientist.

And if Trump looks directly at the USS John S McCain he will be hailed as a Christ-like reconciler.

This is how we forget where we are and what we think.

This is why they do it. So let’s laugh at their pomposity and absurdity, but let’s not laugh it off. Because they are not joking.

I’ve felt the slippage myself as the bar gets lowered