My ambition for 2021 is to learn to write like Donald Trump talks. No, really. I’m already there, the most trumpy columnist in my paper, ever. Every time I write something my editor in chief calls me up and thanks me personally. He sometimes cries of joy.
Sometimes he calls me in advance, crying. He knows how good I will be. We usually get two or three thousand new subscriptions, every time I write something.
In the morning I usually take a stroll around my neighborhood. My neighborhood is wonderful, one of the best in the world, probably the best. Wonderful people. And beautiful.
My stroll passes through the Kyrkbyn down to Eriksberg. My doctor always tells me, that no-one has such vigorous calves, as I have. I have a certificate for my beautiful calves. I can show it to you, if you want. He has asked me to have them casted in bronze. People often come forward, and ask me if they may take a picture of my calves. The autumn sun shines really beautiful. The weather has really become wonderfully beautiful here on our island. It’s become the most wonderful weather in Europe, since I moved here. The neighbors usually thank me for the weather. They are sometimes so grateful, they are crying.
Sometimes when I’m out walking, I see people who do not have my vigorous calves. They usually ask for my advice. I share my advice generously. I am generous by nature. I’m the most generous person who ever lived on this island. And the most humble. I am not a physician, so I don’t know exactly how they could get as vigorous calves as I have. But I can think – and everyone says I’m good at it. All the doctors I have met say they are impressed by how quick minded I am. I would have become a wonderful doctor. I am wonderful. They tend to ask my advice. Like this about my calves. Others, who don’t have my vigorous calves could perhaps inject something. Like cement. Everyone knows how smooth and hard cement can be. I might try it myself.
Then I go down and take a look at the river. It’s a wonderfully beautiful river. The river has turned really beautiful since I’ve moved here. If rivers could say thank you. And all the boats. They are so much more beautiful since I moved here. Wonderful boats. I don’t know if it is because of me. Everyone thinks it is because of me. Those are things that wonderful people say all the time to me. And I have to believe them. I trust people who believe in me. Those who don’t believe in me aren’t real people.
Everywhere people approach me – wonderful ordinary people – and thank me for my writing. Many people cry. Then I walk back home. I walk faster than anyone else. I’m practically home before I left. I go home and I write this. The prose is so wonderful. Like an injection of cement. The readers are to be congratulated.
This is how things will be written in the future. It is the future. The future is here. It is more new than ever. It’s wonderfully new. It is the new way to express oneself. This is how it will be. It’s incredible. Looks like nothing else.
Many people cry.
Kristian Wedel is a staff writer and weekly columnist at Göteborgs-Posten, one of Scandinavia’s leading morning newspapers.
Translation: Karl-Gustaf Wiberg