My name is Philip, and I have TDS. I have had it for years. I have it so badly that I read the news every morning, I check the polls, I have opinions about the federal funds rate, and I once wrote an entire essay about the legal record of the forty-seventh president. The symptoms are severe and, I am told, incurable. I am here to tell you that I do not want a cure. I am proud to have TDS, and I think you should be too. ...
A note before we begin: none of the people quoted below are real. None of this happened. It is a thought experiment, told in the style of an unhinged retrospective documentary, about a single counterfactual: what if the man who has spent forty years insisting he possesses the best brain, the best words, and the best instincts of anyone who has ever lived — actually did, all at once, with no warning, on a Tuesday? What follows is speculative fiction. Treat it accordingly, and enjoy. ...