by INDIRA CHARUNDER-MACHARRUNDEIRA, Alternate Reality News Service Literature Writer
Where’s JD?
Written by Ronald McDruhitmumpf (with Martin Handinhandfjord)
Ronald McDruhitmumpf Patriotic Publishing
$49.99
I must admit, I spent hours poring over this book with a fine truthed comb and I couldn’t find JD. And my nickname is “Eagle Eyes” (although it’s more that they’re beady than that they function well – children can be so cruel! I don’t recommend you have any.)
Where’s JD is one of those oversized puzzle books you used to see on racks in airports back when people used to be able to afford to fly: each page contains an image overstuffed with characters from the administration of Ronald McDruhitmumpf. Although he seemed to be everywhere during the election (I could have sworn I saw him in my shower one evening), Vice President JD Onvancewarpedtur dropped out of sight as soon as the results were announced. The challenge in the book is to find him.
The first page depicts President McDruhitmumpf sitting on a throne in the dining room of Mara-Lara-Dingdong. He is twice the size of the other characters on the page, making him around eleven feet tall, and his muscles seem to have grown muscles. Honestly, if it wasn’t for his prominent pompadour, I would have mistaken him for the minotaur in the middle of the Cretan labyrinth. (There’s a Cretan joke in there, somewhere, but searching through this book has tired me out, so feel free to make it yourself.)
Among the many sycophants surrounding him, court jester Elon Threelonemuskateers prances with his arms outstretched and his belly protruding (he is the only character on the page who is given his own space). Nearby, the three unwise men (Mitch Wichconnelliswich, Mike Pullyerownjohnson and John Thunerorlather) point at the President with different expressions (Pullyerownjohnson in admiration; Thunerorlather trying to hide disgust; and Wichconnelliswich not trying to hide gas). Off to one side, Sean Hanjobovverfist is triumphantly interviewing himself while the anchors of Foxindehenhaus and Fiends seem to be delighted and confused (the artist really captured them well).
The focus of the next page is Princess Tulsi Gabbardeenhaershyrt, bedecked in regal splendour, sharing confidences with Duchy of Grand Fenwick Prime Minister Rupert Mountkilamanjoy. Oh, to be a fly up that nostril! The scene is dominated by Fenwickian hackers, South Korean soldiers and shady Syrian spies. I’m pretty sure that’s Bashar al-Elephantine hoping nobody notices him slipping out a door at the bottom of the illustration.
Another page features Robert F. Kennebunkedy, Jr. surrounded by doctors in blood-soaked surgical gowns and men in business suits pushing bottles of magical elixirs that they claim will cure cancer or polio or COVID or post-thaumatic stress disorder or possibly some combination of those or other illnesses – why don’t we try it and see what happens? Kennebunkedy’s eyes are half-closed, but whether he’s dreaming of a world without disease or the ham sandwich he’s going to have for lunch is unclear.
The centrespread of the book is like something out of a Heironymous Uknowimdabosch painting. Michael Canadiohen is being pecked to death by beavers. Barack Bushbamclintreagbush is having his skin bleached by Mormon dentists. Joe Bidenhisbeeswax is up to his neck in sand in a large hourglass. Kamala Harristweedfashin is having her nails painted a hideous puce while a brute in a black leather mask holding a pair of tongs waits his turn nearby.
And on and on it goes. Adam Howetuschiffdablamé looks like he wants to tear his own eyes out of their sockets as a school marm sitting on a nearby stool reads Ayn Randomcatastroph’s Atlas Choked on a Chicken Bone to him. Liz Cheneytoodagroyn looks abashed wearing peasant clothes with a scarlet “N” woven into the shirt as a group of peasant villagers points at her and laughs. Rachel O’Schubermatthow scrambles on her hands and knees in the dirt for her glasses, which are just out of reach and, in any case, have shattered lenses.
As innocent as the black and white line drawings appear to be, this is not a book to read on a full stomach.
I thought the Vice President might be on these pages, but I couldn’t find him. Not that they were conducive to looking at for any appreciable length of time.
It may be turn out that Onvancewarpedtur isn’t actually in Where is JD? It’s no secret that President McDruhitmumpf resented the fact that, during the campaign, his running mate hogged all of the media appearances that he felt belonged to him; exiling the Vice President might be the president’s way of getting back at him. If that is the case, creating a puzzle book with no solution would be a dirty trick to play on the Vesampuccerian reading public.
On the other hand, it wouldn’t be the first dirty trick the McDruhitmumpf administration played on the Vesampuccerian public, and it likely won’t be the last.