It starts with a big production number. The new President's team marches through the gates like parading Olympic athletes planning to disrespect the flag. As they enter they sing:
With Diplomatic Creep,
We cross History’s Stage.
Both shy and meek
As The World Turns, amazed.
Praise we spread in full,
Without a boastful word,
We give credit to our Bull,
Not just the nagging herd!
(Wanders about as he mumbles):
Salute the Marines, Mr. Jill Biden. Salute. What.
(Bumps into the scenery; Consults his mePad; begins to sing.)
Like a mentally stable-man
World leaders, I’ll approach.
One I’ll treat like a door-man,
as I deliver my reproach.
But them that Trump has cowed,
I’ll look squarely in the knees!
As I offer a gracious bow,
And sincere apollo-gee.
Hail, hell! What do I do next?
(Checks pad)
"Tell European Nations
Of Power abrogations!"
But Poo-tin calls me a tease.
So I’ll implore “believe me, please!”
At the center of Art’s estate is “The Mean-Well.” This is a deep well, as well as a mean well. For some mysterious reason, well-meaning people (mostly voters) get sucked in, fall past the mean, and even plunge below average, which drags down the average, causing the mean to become even meaner. These folks don't mean to be mean, they mean to be equitable. What is the powerful attractive force of the Mean-Well? Could it be the mean-welling of the Mean-Well?
Actually, the attractive force is the fabled Lost Thirteenth Law of an Admired Marxist (choose one). This lost law is forty thousand pages of progressive legislation that, if adopted in its entirety, will yield the forty million pages of regulation that will, in the end, make all this stuff work. The Thirteenth Law was typed before white-out, back when progressives didn’t make mistakes. However, it has been rewritten by AIs (Artificial Intellectuals) using out-white (and there’s a lot of that in it).
The Opera needs a love story but not to worry: with so many malignant narcissists involved, it has lots of love stories.