Right now, no one needs another think piece about The Constitutional Flush of 2025. I’ve read dozens, and they’ve all succeeded at putting one exclamation point after another on an already loud and nerve-wracking situation. Writers are out of words to describe the “utter” this and “absolute” that. The statute of limitations on “unprecedented” ran out years ago. In all of our “exasperation,” all we seem to be doing is convincing ourselves that we are really really exasperated. It’s safe to say: we’re all good and freaked out.
That’s why it’s time for a children’s book.
Gather ‘round, hapless Dems. Warm up your lactose-free cocoa and put on your most comfortable Birkenstocks n’ socks. I’ll do the same.
Let’s go back to an old favorite of my generation: The Lorax. This classic 1971 Dr. Seuss fable was a staple of library time for me. My fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Anderson, read it with gusto. She had obviously given up too early on a career as an actor; she had a light touch with Seuss’s tip-toeing language and could breathe real gravitas into the more urgent passages. She would look over the tops of her large plastic glasses to see if we were paying attention. I would look back at her through my own large plastic glasses to show her that I was.
It all starts out with a little boy finding his way to the far end of town where the Grickle-grass grows.The place is totally dead. Picture parts of Los Angeles after the recent fires, or Maui, or North Central Colorado or Prospect Park. The wind smelled slow-and-sour, just like it does near Elizabeth, NJ. Apparently, a cool tree once grew in this dead zone. Go figure.
Then we meet a character named the Once-ler. He’s the disembodied voice of this psychedelic-hued story — kind of like Charlie in Charlie’s Angels. He has a lot to say, but he’ll only say it if the boy pays up. Then he slupps down his Whisper-ma-Phone and reveals all. This was my first clue as to what happens when information is put behind a paywall. Spoiler alert: it does not end well.
Now, for you and me and the entire two-lovebird-on-a-stick-barrette-wearing crowd, we were already psyched to be sitting on the rug instead of in our painfully uncomfortable desks. The book could have been about anything. But after the morose intro, we finally got to meet this incredible cast of characters: Swomee-Swans, Brown Bar-ba-loots, Humming-fish, and then the best of all: the Truffula Trees. But as soon as we fall in love with them, THWACK. Trees start coming down, courtesy of ol’ Once-ler (a capitalist of the Trumpian variety, hell-bent on “biggering” his enterprise due to apparently zero regulation). And then, this nifty little character named the LORAX pops out.
The Lorax (pictured above, for any of you miscreants who couldn’t identify him in a children’s literature lineup), speaks for the trees. And – I might add – not very well. He’s like an unprepared court-appointed attorney. The wimpiest David to Once-ler’s Goliath. He whines and stomps. He gets nowhere. And he fails spectacularly, watching as one after the other, the glorious little animals leave with various life-threatening ailments.
The Lorax is all talk; he’s nothing but a lousy grandstander.
And this, dear story lovers, is the embodiment of our current Democratic party. It is the one I have grown up with, and it is the one I would like to put behind us immediately.
I know you can see the similarities, enlightened smarties. For one, the Lorax looks a lot like Chuck Schumer. But (also like Chuck Schumer) the Lorax is not a change maker, he is an alarmist; he thinks that more (and more impassioned) pleading, more exclamation points, more histrionics will convince the Once-lers of the world to alter their course. Whadda dummy.
What kind of lesson is that for a children’s book?
For a man who claimed that his books were written “without a moral in mind,” Theodor Geisel managed to parlay his idiosyncratic storytelling into some lofty humanistic messaging. Geisel was a New Deal Democrat; an anti-fascist who drew cartoons calling out the House Committee on Unamerican Activities, he captured the ethos of a certain strain of the Greatest Generation (I’d call it lofty good intentions disconnected from reality). His 60 books are ubiquitous, still managing to eke out bestselling status. They’ve sold 700 million copies worldwide. He is as iconic as icons come.
But a few years back, Dr. Seuss Enterprises took six books off the shelves because of their troublesome portrayals and their outright racism. A statement from the organization said, “These books portray people in ways that are hurtful and wrong.” It seems that we came to our senses in terms of important issues that were overlooked; but apparently, we have not had the same good sense to call out dangerously lame political organizing when we see it.
Replace the Thneeds in The Lorax with any product (Snuggie, Air Fryer, Tesla) and you have a typical, modern day story of unabated greed. Replace the character of the Lorax for any breathless do-gooder who only manages to point and shout, and you have a typical, modern day story of unabated greed. He’s no foil, he’s an enabler.
If I had my way, the Lorax wouldn’t act alone on a stump, but would gather forces and build alliances. The Lorax would stage a boycott at Once-ler industries. The Lorax would make sure he knew 1,000 top-notch pro-bono lawyers who could tie the Once-ler up in court. The Lorax would go to the districts of the politicians who deregulated this industry and talk to constituents about why they elected these assholes in the first place. The Lorax would have taken video statements from the Brown Bar-ba-loots to create heart wrenching viral moments. The Lorax would read up on burnout. Most importantly, the Lorax would step aside and know when it’s time to let a younger generation take the reins; he would know it’s a mistake to hang on to power for too long. He would have done this before he ruined it for everyone.
We all know how this sorry story ends. The Truffula trees go bye-bye and the wasteland of deforestation and global warming and forever chemicals becomes a scorched earth almost too terrible to comprehend. Except that we can. Because – unlike in 1971 — now it happens all the time.
In the end, the exasperated little critter can’t take it any more. He’d written his think pieces. He’d said everything at the top of his lungs in ALL CAPS with exclamation points galore. Which is exhausting, let’s be honest. And then, in a dark ending that even Roald Dahl would re-think, the Lorax gives up. And then somehow lifts himself out of there by the seat of his own pants. He picks up and leaves! He doesn’t even have the good manners to stay behind and help clean up the mess he’s helped to make.
Worst of all: Seuss’s solution is to leave it up to the next generation to figure it out by tossing them a freaking Truffula seed. Thanks for the guilt trip, gramps.
I read The Lorax to my own children many times, hoping to make Mrs. Anderson proud of my sensitive delivery. But this book was not nearly as interesting to them as it was to me, perhaps because they saw it for what it was: a horror story about what not to do when faced with a greedy, power-grabbing psychopath. They knew then what I know now: you don’t jump up and down and shout until you’re blue in the face. You do something.
Happy Valentine’s Day sweet readers! If you think we need to toss out our Loraxian thinking, show me some love! ❤️ xox
Brilliantly stated. We are now in the land of a bully's world and his side kick Pancho Musk as thye persist in destruction and dismantling our system of government. Our country consitd of an infantile mind and thus the suggestion of children's book is appropiatei
Excellent reframing. Thanks Marcy!!!