Complaint of Vilemir Putanin, seasoned dictator and cleptocrat

(excepts from His diary)

I have sacrificed myself for my country to restore its former glory, and yet what do I get? Jokers gathering in the capital to protest, no doubt riled up by the criminal thugs I put in prison because they wanted to run in elections against me. Well, I’ve had these parasitic elements put down by the police, who stand by me faithfully.

Why, I’ve even been blamed for one of them taking poison and then getting treated by enemies outside the country.

Based on sound advice and the assurance of my most trusted advisors and supporters, who are few, I have sent an army of peacekeepers to a neighboring country which has been nothing but obstinate and ungrateful ever since the unfortunate dissolution of the greatest union there ever was. Despite all the oil and gas and other riches we’ve showered on them. In an unprecedented slap of face, they ousted a deserving, competent government that was doing things the right way – our way. Without us they’d be nothing.

I am doing nothing but good to protect each and every minority of mine that is settled anywhere else in illegal and corrupt countries no longer under our control. We have successfully supported and armed countrymen in Synistria and Dumbass, areas populated by suppressed and mistreated nationals that have cried out to me for help against local oppressors. I’ve given them passports, I’ve given them kalashnikovs and rockets.

And yet I get nothing, no recognition. The evil empires of the West slap me with sanctions. Well, let them have their sanctions. I’ve already collected gold. Enough reserves to last for a long, long time.

Let them freeze without my gas!

I have been accused of acquiring wealth at the expense of my country and of enabling oligarchs to illegally enrich themselves to the detriment of the country and the people. Nothing could be further from the truth! But let it be said that every manager – and as the president I am a manager at the highest level – deserves some compensation for the hard work he does and the responsibility he bears. And I bear an enormous amount of responsibility! So do my friends, the so-called oligarchs, who are nothing but hard-working individuals with a keen eye for business and opportunities that greatly benefit not only themselves but the economy as a whole and thus the entire nation.

It is unjust and misguided to argue that my friends and I do not believe in our country because we happen to own some prime real estate in countries like France that we occasionally criticize. It is simply misinformation intentionally spread by the media of enemy countries that claims our spouses and offspring spend time there consorting with the local rich and beautiful.

As to the recent act of liberation: I’m bringing breadbaskets, and what do I get? Molotov cocktails. I’ve pointed out the corruption of their misguided government, how it is made up of drug-sniffing sons of Hitler.

I’ve pointed out how happy we all used to be when we were one. I’ve pointed out the blessings of the proverbial bear that enveloped, embraced and united us all.

The bear hug worked so well in Germany in 1953, in Hungary in 1956, in Czechoslovakia in 1968, where we defended our righteous ways by putting down illegal movements instigated by imperialist Western powers. It worked wonders in our own Chechnya and Georgia in the more recent past. It has done miracles in Syria, where we gave our support to the legitimate government. The people loved us for all the wonderful things we brought. All of this has been grossly misrepresented in history books written by the wrong people.

I am merely a follower of a great tradition.

What can I say? How can I convince everyone? Even though my tanks, my missiles, my soldiers, my truth speak a clear language.

– James Steerforth (© 2022)

Author’s disclaimer
The persons, events and locations mentioned in this piece of fiction express the views and opinions of a fictitious first-person narrator who might be thought to resemble an actual living person. However, any similarities to real persons, events and locations are merely coincidental. Opinions and views expressed do not in any way constitute the author’s opinions and views.

About James Steerforth

I am an author of poetry and fiction, translator and painter who loves to have fun with borrowed feathers.
This entry was posted in Creative writing, Flash fiction, Life, Nonsense, Satire, Surrealism, Sweet dreams and nightmares, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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