"Pretty Pragmatism" by Jenean McBrearty

A US Senator introduces a bill that borrows public policy ideas from the Nazi party.

“Short Stories For Long Discussions…”

Delight in intriguing, thought-provoking conversations about ethics, philosophy, and social issues! After Dinner Conversation is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit that publishes a monthly short fiction literary magazine.

Each issue features both established writers and up-and-coming authors who contribute fascinating philosophical insights on controversial topics like marriage equality, assisted suicide, the meaning of death, animal rights and defining your “purpose.” It’s time to go deep in search of truth!

If you love reading imaginative short stories on hot topics that make your brain think deeply but also have you laughing out loud... then this magazine is for you!

Subscribe via our website (digital or print), or via substack.

---

"Pretty Pragmatism" by Jenean McBrearty

SENATOR SALVATORE BOUNDINI straightened his tie, took a deep breath, and walked into the hearing room with as much haughtiness as he could muster. His publicist had told him there was no such thing as bad publicity, but what the hell did a twenty-eight-year-old journalism major know? 

“You probably should have asked that question before your publicist hired her,” his senior staffer said when Sal told him he was about to be tar and feathered by the ethics committee. 

“She’s a dead ringer for a young Sophia Loren, Rob,” Sal said by way of justification.

“Who’s Sohia Loren? Never mind. Don’t ever say that in front of a mic.”

“How about the BPOE?”

“Shut up, Sal.”

“What’s all the fuss and feathers about anyway? Everybody’s always complaining that taxes are too low, and the national debt is too high. Whatever happened to Goldilocks and just right?”

“Maybe she got off the trolley when you used the words compulsory, national, and service in the same sentence.”

“Requiring two years of public service in the national parks is a great idea! Up with the sun, eight hours of planting trees and picking up litter, learning how to grow something … it would make kids too tired to get into mischief, and get them physically fit. Hell, they might even read a book or two. Most twelve-year-olds can’t run a lap without an oxygen station. It’s a good idea. You said so yourself.”

 Rob had flopped into his black leather worrying chair and rubbed his temples. “It is a good idea, but it has to be tweaked and packaged just right. Sal, it’s 2025. Did it ever occur to you or Sophia Loren, whoever that is, to do some historical research?”

Rob picked up a tome laying on the end table. “Giancano Maritz. A Fascist Approach to Social Ills. He’s a distant nephew of Benito himself. Your young boy’s camp is a Hitlerjugend knockoff. Even the Joint Chiefs of Staff have their panties in a twist.”

Sal took the book from him and checked for a ribbon of bright white running down the pages that meant pictures. Included were before and after photos of young men who had their squishy video game bodies transformed into muscular athlete bodies. “Rich people send their kids to summer camps, why can’t poor people do the same?” He showed Rob a particularly striking metamorphosis.

“It’s not the idea, it where it comes from that’s all wrong.”

“Really? Ask Neil Armstrong how he felt about Werner von Braun’s rocket research. Or how the Germans felt about stealing English radar.”

Rob thought for a minute. “Good point. Bring that up to the committee, if you can. But, for heaven’s sake, don’t make Senator Whitcombe mad at you. She already thinks you’re a pig.”