Dr. Richard Cordero, Esq.
Ph.D., University of Cambridge, England
M.B.A., University of Michigan Business School
D.E.A., La Sorbonne, Paris
Judicial Discipline Reform
New York City
Part 1 of 2
The following is a story. Indeed, it is a product of my imagination. It is humorous. It will make you laugh. It will inspire you too. But it never happened.
Yet, its core elements can still happen. You and your friends and family can make them happen if you all think strategically and apply the attitude shown in the story as a strategy guiding acts in every real situation from now until Election Day.
If so, you can contribute to one of the presidential candidates winning the election, or even winning it by a landslide, together with one or both chambers of Congress. You can bring to bear a fundamental element that has been so direly missing in this campaign, to wit, a positive message followed by acts that make us like one of the candidates so much that we want to vote for him or her rather vote for one of them because we so dislike the other.
So go on, read this two-part story. It is an easy read replete with humor and imagination. If you think that your friends and family would enjoy it too, share it with them, post it everywhere, and republish it widely. And if you think that its morale will help either of the two candidates and even the campaign itself, copy and paste it in your reply to every email that you receive from them asking for donations and add these email addresses or just send it using them:
firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com
A winning strategy is worth more than money. Let that be your contribution to the candidates and more importantly, to unifying all of us as We the People.
Everybody knows that the third presidential debate between Mr. Donald Trump and Sec. Hillary Clinton was yet another display of personal animosity between them. It was there for everybody to see before they even uttered one word, as both entered the stage, walked up to their respective podium, and stayed put. They did not shake hands then, never mind at the end of the debate.
Thereby they reflected the disunity that has split our country into not just two factions, but rather several bitterly opposed factions incapable of budging toward each other to meet at or near a democratic, pragmatic, and constructive center for the benefit of all of us, We the People.
What few know is how each of the candidates could have thought of transforming the animus of that occasion into the theme of a strategy that would reunite the country behind her or him and lead to a win on Election Day.
The first opportunity to do so came the day following the debate, Thursday, October 20, at the annual Alfred E. Smith Memorial Foundation Dinner, a charity gala intended to bring in money to help poor children in New York. This is an occasion for self-deprecating humor, not for mean-spirited, acerbic criticism of an opponent.
It was Sec. Clinton who understood it to be such. Chance had determined that she would take the podium first. When she did, she seized the opportunity to do something that nobody had ever done. Normally, at such an occasion, laughs are drawn by one joke after another, as stand-up comedians do. Instead, she embarked on one single “Hillyarous” story in length, content, and tone. It brought the house down. It brought her up on their shoulders.
This is what she said when she went to the podium.
“Coming tonight to this uplifting event is in itself very uplifting after the third presidential debate that we had last night. It gives me, and I’m sure Donald too, the opportunity to continue the very congenial atmosphere in which we exchanged so many substantive ideas. I was so positively excited at the end of it. At last, I felt, the two of us had come so close to the friendly terms that we had put so much effort to establish among us.
“That explains why last night, I slept peacefully in the warm embrace of that beautiful friendship that Donald, to his credit, elicited with his considerate tone and kind phrase characterizing as “Such a…” Oh, Donald, I’m so thankful to you.
“So much such that I would like to share with you and all of you gathered here tonight the dream that I had last night. We may be able, I so hope, to continue it tonight.
“Indeed, I had a dream. In my dream, I had moved back to my little hut in the suburbs after I had been trounced at the election and had to decide whether to concede my defeat or to run once more to the courts to mount a ballistic attack. As you know, I am not afraid of filing lawsuits. I have sued people left and right, well mostly left, not as of right.
“But I was rather depressed. I had just learned that while I was campaigning, thieves had broken into my home and stolen everything, including my most precious possessions: my jewels by Microsoft and Apple. I feel so exposed when I am not wearing them.
“In addition, I felt lonely. Bill was again running after some mothers…and fathers too, looking after their needs at our soup kitchen foundation.
“Then the telephone rang. But I was not in the mood to talk. But it kept ringing. But I still was not in the mood to talk. But the telephone kept ring. I thought it was yet another marketer trying to sell me another package of psychiatric counseling for people in suicidal situations.
“Then it hit me that perhaps it was Chelsea asking why the pictures of my dotting grandchildren that she had emailed me had bounced. She has sent me more than 33,000. I adore each one of them, the pictures, I mean, not those little wet brats running around, crying, and disrupting my attention to guarding state secrets.
“So I picked up the phone. You cannot believe who it was! Go on, take a guess. Come on, guess. Wait, have you fallen asleep? The one with the dream is me. You’re supposed to be awake and listening!
“Well, when I tell you, you’ll spring onto your feet, eyes popping out: I was Donald! He was so consoling and empathetic, as he always is with everybody. It was right what I needed. He told me:”
“I don’t claim to know what you’re going through because I have never been crushed in an election as you just were by me.
“Moreover, I have fired more people in my life than I have hired and I could read their pain in their faces. I can only imagine how you feel after President Obama commented on your defeat saying that he knew you would be flattened at the polls because you had turned out to be his worst appointment ever and the most incompetent secretary of state in the history of our nation, a disgrace, a total disgrace. He said for good measure that he was firing you retroactively. That hurts, I guess.”
“Trump then offered to send me the clip of the President’s utter repudiation if I had not seen it. He is such a generous man, Trump, that is. In fact, you won’t believe what he then said to calm me down.
“I know that I am about to move into your former home in D.C. and that every time you will picture mentally your living room, I’ll be there, and every time you’ll picture your kitchen, I’ll be there, and every time you picture your bedroom, I’ll be there with somebody.
“So I would like to make it up to you: I’m inviting you to my victory celebration party at Trump Tower. You’ll have the opportunity to see the campaign headquarters that I have been running there as a circus and that beat you into the dust. Tonight, we will have special performances by my closest friends.”
“That was a fantastic invitation, Donald, and so timely. I was really chocking in that hut in the suburbs. A high tower is what you need when you are suffocating and contemplating suicide. At least you catch some fresh air on your way down.
“So he sent his private Boeing 747 stretched-out jet to pick me up on my doorstep. In no time, we landed on the roof of Trump Tower. It was all worth it. The show was fabulous, as was the company.
“Although Trump has pulled off so many stunts in this campaign, he surpassed himself with a new one: He swung from chandelier to chandelier over his dinner table, dropped at the end of it before Melania’s plate, opened his arms, and sung to her Al Jolson’s “Mammy, forgive me!” as VP Pence and Manager Conway played the old tune at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=684n8FO68LU since Trump is such a big fan of historical facts and accuracy.
“Then it was his best friends’ turn:
“Putin danced with one after the other of his Russian dolls in a ballet set ever dangerously closer to the fireworks of a sparking Internet switch.
“Turkish President Erdogan lassoed sheep, rabbits, and chicken dressed as ghosts as they scurried and fluttered over the circus’s rings in his number “I catch you ‘cause I can”.
“President Xi Jinping vaulted the Trump Tower using as a pole a T-beam made of Chinese steel borrowed from Trump’s warehouse.
“For my entertainment, Julian Assange of WikiLeaks worked his magic by bringing from the dead my deleted emails. I’m so grateful to him!
“It was so much fun! I just couldn’t believe that I was dreaming. But Trump assured me that I wasn’t, saying
“This is how things are in reality. Here at headquarters, I run a campaign as highly coordinated and in sync as a three-ring circus. It is how I will run government. And I want to assure you that however busy I will be recouping the money that I invested in the campaign, including a salary for me as a candidate for the people, the doors of the White House will always be open for you whenever you want to beg me for a favor.”
“I was so excited. What a sweet and welcoming man, Donald is. So now that we are here and awake, a least I am, I would like to beg a favor of you, Donald. After we are done with these boring speeches, can I come tonight to your Circus at the Tower?”
Trump, always the gentleman to all ladies, in general, and babes, in particular, stood up and replied with his customary wide open smile, “Yes, my dear, you can come to tonight’s performance.”
Hillary was overjoyed. As she always thinks of those close to her, she blurted, “Can I bring over my friends, please?”
With open arms, he said in his raspy voice of a circus master of ceremonies, “The friends of Hilly are my friends. Yes, bring all of them over.”
It was the first time that he had called her Hilly. She was ecstatic. After having heard him talk so much…I mean, heard talk so much good things about him and having had the opportunity to learn so much from him at the debates, she really wanted to know The Donald the Man in the protective company of her friends. So she slowly pivoted on her feet as she kept repeating: “You heard him, my friends, you all can come with me tonight to see Trump’s Circus at the Tower.”
Everybody was so grateful and filled with high expectations of what they would see at the tower’s penthouse.
Hillary, who is so forward looking to anticipate the consequences of her acts, said to all her friends: “After I’ll take you there, Trump’s people will be exhausted from running after him to clean of his acts. We should bring them some entertainment.” She looked around and shouted:
“Bill, Bill, where are you? Bill Gate, stand up so we can see you.”
Bill Gate stood up. She asked him, “Can you bring your video games?” Bill nodded enthusiastically.
Then she called out: “Goldman, Goldman Sachs, where are you?”
The people at a table stood up somewhat hesitatingly. She asked them, “Can you bring your monopoly?” Though they looked timid, they too nodded.
She went on, “Marco, Marco, where are you? Please step up so somebody can see you.” Marco Rubio stepped on the table and she asked him, “Can you tell your story of survival tonight? It is going to be so uplifting to his campaign staff in its first part and to him in its second part. I mean your story, “The Dwarf and his Seven Snow Whites?” Marco grinned affirmatively.
“You’re great!”, said Hillary. Then she added:
“We can follow your act with two more that are sure to be a hit. Rosie O’Donnell, that old flame of Trump’s, will sing the song that made the couple famous back in the days when Trump was starting off as one of his father’s construction workers, ‘I left my heart in the tower’ ”.
Rosie stood up, raised her arm and her finger, like the Statute of Liberty after she had taken off her shackles, and nodded.
Hillary turned to the person sitting next to Trump, Cardinal Timothy Dolan. “Father Dolan, you are Trump’s spiritual advisor and have been so successful in instilling in him the Christian values of generosity, compassion, and humility. We would be so strengthened in our faith in humankind and the future of American politics if you came with us and had your choir children perform your latest choreographed mass, “Angels Dancing under a Pinhell”.” The Cardinal nodded as he flashed his endearing avuncular smile.
Hillary turned to the table where Trump’s children were sitting and signaled to them to stand up. They did slowly, unsure of what was to come. She said, “I love you so much! More than my grandchildren: No messy pampers and all that. So, my dear, we are going to bring you a gift. I know you have everything. But do you like a big surprise gift?” Trump’s children nodded somewhat embarrassed. But Hillary said with that confidence-inspiring demeanor that is her trademark, “We’re going to bring you puppets!”
Lastly, she addressed Trump again.
“We’re going to have a fantastic time tonight. Thanks to you. You are such a sweet man. I would like to thank you publicly for your characterization of me at the third debate. You said that I was “Such a naspy woman”.
“I don’t quite know what ‘naspy’ means. But I know one thing: If you said that of me, then it must be a heartfelt compliment, for you are such a sweet, sweet man.
“I guess ‘naspy’ has to do with what you said at the second debate, that I was a determined person that never quits. I hope that it also means what I have shown tonight: I am the Reunifier of Americans.
“Thank you for calling me that naspy. It has inspired me a lot. You will be the first to realize it soon. From now on, I tell you, for me you will be my ace card, my Trumpy! So friends, stand up, let’s give Trumpy the sweetest and above all most sincere round of applause.”
Hillary began to clap and to chant and soon the whole house was on their feet, clapping and chanting like her:
Trumpy! Trumpy! Trumpy!
Trump stood up and, as he always does, humbly bowed to the audience. Soon Boehner tears flowed to his eyes, for deep down, as his best friend and insightful connoisseur, Elizabeth Warren, put it, “Trump is an outwardly secure, yet big-hearted, emotionally grabbable man”.
As soon as he began to compose himself, he walked to the podium. By then, Hillary had been scurried away by Huma Abedin, who had come to share with her the good news of yet another miraculous Resurrection of Clinton’s Emails and had taken her to offer thankful prayers. It was Trump’s turn to roast himself and, respectful of all traditions and customs, he did.
“Dear my friends of mine. I realize that to follow…her…Hillary…Hi… Hilly’s act opens a great opportunity for me. The skit that I prepared is, of course, the most self-deprecating and the most gracious toward an opponent in the history of all charity galas since the Last Supper. However, I clearly anticipate, because I always do it all, that if I were to do my skit, I would so outperform Hi…Hilly that it would be embarrassing…for her, I mean, of course.
“That would not be in keeping with the gentleman that I am and have always been since Adam took the blame for Eve eating the apple, because nobody is more of a gentleman that I am to all women, whether they eat apples or way too much. It follows that I want you all to come to my Three Ring Circus at the Tower tonight.
“There will be ice cream and hot chocolate and everything else like my bipolar extremes, and candy and treats and plenty of tricks and even more ghosts and rattling shackles because with me it is every day and night Halloween! and you never know what you’re going to get…I myself don’t know what I’m going to give. But it is going to be spooky, believe me!
“And you don’t have to worry about overindulging in believing or eating because I am going to have my personal doctor over there, the wonderful Dr. Ben Carson. If any of you feels sick to your stomach with what you had to swallow in my circus, I will have him give you what he has been offering to give me since he gave himself one with such enlightening effect that he dropped out of the primaries to support me: a lobotomy, better than Obamacare, no ever higher annual premiums, just one shot at it and you’re forever a new person.
“I haven’t taken Ben up on his offer because I have been too busy with my charity works, the main one of which is, of course, my participation in the presidential campaign to relieve the American people of its hunger for a reasonable, knowledgeable, and reassuring leader.
“In any event, rest assured that during my exhaustive preparation for the debates, I read a yellow sticky on medicine and now I know more about medicine than all doctors, including Dr. Carson. So I myself will give each of you a lobotomy if it turns out on November 9 that you failed to grant my friend Hilly her only and consuming wish: to go back full time to her true calling as an email specialist. She’s such a naspy woman!”
As soon as Hillary’s Manager Conway heard those words, she seized the opportunity to give the signal to her assistants at her table. As one man, they jumped up, climbed on their chairs, and began chanting at the top of their voices:
“We want naspy! We want naspy! We want naspy!”
In every corner of the house, people popped up and joined them in chanting. In no time, the whole house had turned to where Hillary had taken a seat next to her adoptive spiritual father, Cardinal Dolan, who had played such a decisive role in her conversion to the credo of One Message, One Truth. Graciously, Hillary took the Cardinal’s arm and raised it as if it were that of VP Kaine. The room went crazy, chanting at the top of their voices:
“She’s a naspy! She’s a naspy! She’s a naspy!”
Still at the podium, Trump took it all in with great satisfaction, with his arms spread wide open, like Nixon bidding farewell at the door of the helicopter after resigning on August 9, 1974. Trump had realized that it was thanks to his effort for years that a person had been born right there among the people “Hilly the naspy!”
Hilly the naspy had a second part of the story for Trumpy.
After the gala was over, Hillary took Kaine, Conway, and all her assistants straight to headquarters. They were exuberant! They understood that they could turn the term “naspy” into a theme, the winning positive theme for the last days of the campaign.
As described in the coming Part 2 of this story(†>ol2:496 or nearby), they spent the next 48 hours feverishly applying to “naspy” the concept of strategic thinking that they had learned at *>ol:52§C in the study:
Exposing Judges’ Unaccountability and
Consequent Riskless Wrongdoing:
Pioneering the news and publishing field of
judicial unaccountability reporting* †
* Volume 1: http://Judicial-Discipline-Reform.org/OL/DrRCordero-Honest_Jud_Advocates.pdf >all prefixes:page number up to ol:393
† Volume 2: http://Judicial-Discipline-Reform.org/OL/DrRCordero-Honest_Jud_Advocates.pdf >from ol2:394
This Part 1 is at: http://Judicial-Discipline-Reform.org/OL/DrRCordero-Honest_Jud_Advocates.pdf >ol2:491