Congress Down Below: Politics Under the Sea

This august body will come to order,” the speaker said, banging his gavel. The hooting, honking and other hubbub in the vast arena slowly quieted down.

“Thank you. The first order of business, as we decided last week, is to discuss what to do about the changing environment that’s affecting us all.”

He raised a fin. “Yes, Ms. Minnow?”

Minnow stood high on her tail. “I don’t think you can say it’s affecting all.” she said. “Some are not affected. For instance, some of the bottom feeders. I refer to the honorable Staytight Kiss, the lead member of the Pucker Snail Group from the Mariana Trench that’s over on your right. They know nothing.”

“Thank you, Ms. Minnow. Senator Staytight? Is that true?”

“What?”

“That proves my point,” said Minnow. “They’re know-nothings.”

“Well, let’s move on,” the speaker said.

He looked out at the vast array of delegates, numbering thousands, that filled the arena. Clams. Tunas. Manta Rays. Jellyfish.

“I’d like to recognize Senator Alphonse Spearhead-Swordfish of Coxes Ledge Deep, who led the committee that hired the experts that produced this latest report. Mr. Spearhead-Swordfish?”

Spearhead wiggled up to the podium.

“This is a serious business,” he said, turning to the group of dolphins honking loudly from the back of the arena. “No laughing matter.” He tapped his sword on the coral that covered the podium.

“This study continues to show this unstoppable expansion of our waters. It’s quite alarming. More and more, the seas cover the Earth’s surface, and we have no idea why. All we know is that the killer sharks have expanded their holdings into those expanding fringes. This is very dangerous for us.”

“But maybe that’s a good thing,” said Sen. Sweetwater, the sperm whale from the Galathea Depth. “And who cares? The sharks can have the fringes. We have our alliances.”

“Yes, we do, but our alliances are not spending enough on defense,” Spearhead continued. “Senators, particularly from the Kermadec-Tonga subduction zone, are not doing their part.”

“Perhaps we could talk to the sharks,” Minnow said.

“They are killers,” said Trace Catfish of the Okeechobee Swamp Coalition. “We will never talk to them. I, for one, will not be a part of any shakedown.”

And with that, the clams from the Galathea Depth set up a clamber of clicking open and shut in support. A blowfish hooted “Takedown!  Takedown!”

“And then there is the darkness,” continued Spearhead. “Above us, where lights have shown brightly since as long as I can remember, a huge cloud of floating things is dimming the lights.  And it grows and grows.” Spearhead held up another report. “It’s 1.2% darker this blubble compared to last blubble.”

“And do you know the cause?” shouted the honorable Bit Hisser, the chief of the squid delegation from the Aleutian Trench.

“I say this descending darkness is a good thing,” interrupted her Honoris Fluorescent Bluefish from the Romanche Trench Partition. “The dimness keeps the sharks from seeing us. It serves a purpose.”

“And in many groups, the males and  females are more attracted to one another in dim light,” said Hilda Mollusk of the Caspian Deep tribe.

“Order, order,” said the speaker. “One at a time, please. Senator Spearfish, will you continue with your report?”

“Certainly, Mr. Speaker,” he said, holding up still another document. “The new report is from the Honorable Squeaky Teaky, who led the Bottlenose Dolphins and Leaping Porpoise Team to investigate whatever is up there.”

Squeaky Teaky rose from the center of the arena. “This material bobbing along the surface, it’s quite distressing.”

“From what I hear, it’s a plus,” Minnow said from her tiny perch.

“One at a time,” the speaker said.

“It’s all garbage,” said Spearhead. “Plastics.  Bottles, radios, coat hangers, bags, lawn furniture. Tables. Lamps. Boxes and pans. Stackable chairs.”

“And can’t we make use of these stackable chairs?” said McKenzie Wiggle of the Giant Shrimp clan in the South Gulf Stream Underwater Prairie. “I, for one, have squirmed onto a few. They are quite comfortable.”

“It’s some kind of trick,” said Squeaky Teaky. “There’s beer cans.  Plastic nets. Surely, you have seen where some of us have been caught unawares?”

“There’s spies in this room, listening to all this,” said Henry the Halibut from the Aleutian Bottoms. “It’s the Seabed Floor Crabs. It’s well known they are cavorting with the Mariana Trench Killer Sharks to bring down this democratically elected government.”

“You have no evidence we’ve done that,” blubbered Sen. Bloom, the chief Seabed Floor Crab from the Alaskan Trench.

“Tear down the wall,” hooted Sen. Carl Codfish from the Nantucket Passage.

“I move that Carl Codfish be impeached,” shouted the entire Flying Scallop delegation in unison.

“Order, order,” shouted the speaker. “This is getting us nowhere.”

At that moment, a giant tarpon appeared at the back of the auditorium. He held up a sign.

“Free Willie!!!” he shouted, reading it.

The Codfish Crew, all 11 of them, came over and frog-walked him out.

“I once again will call for a vote,” yelled the speaker. “This has to stop.”

Hate the Skate, sitting on the side, flapped his wings. “Call for a vote and I’ll start a flubberbuster.”

“I think this is a put-up job,” shouted Henry Oyster in a quivering voice elsewhere at the back of the arena. “Stop the Steal!”

“You have your views,” said the speaker from the podium. “I have mine. I will now turn to a further report on this month’s water temperature rise. It is up another half a degree since this time last Quarko. This is very dangerous.”

“But higher temperatures will make what we eat less toxic,” said Sen. Eddie Eel, a newly elected member. “It’ll stop those poisoning our food.”

“Mr. Speaker,” shouted Goldie Goldfish, wearing a sparkling and very tight skin outfit that revealed a very gorgeous figure. “I think we should move on to something else, please,” she said. “Could we have a further discussion about the education bill?”

“I think we have to adjourn,” the speaker said.

“There are schools and schools of elementary school fish, totally underfunded. I wish you wouldn’t put this off once again.”

“We’re done,” the speaker said.

“There’s so many who lack affordable schooling,” she said. But then, seeing how it was going, she got up and left in a huff out the back.

The speaker quickly banged his gavel. “This meeting is adjourned,” he said. And he looked out into the crowd. “Will the catfish ladies, wherever you are,  please rise and sing Row, Row, Row Your Boat? Everybody stand. Fin over heart. Or whatever.”

To read more of Dan Rattiner’s stories, go to DansPapers.com/voices/dan-rattiners-stories.

HELP PRESERVE DAN’S PAPERS 1960-2024

Stony Brook University intends to digitize the complete set of Dan’s Papers back issues (1960–2024) preserved in the Dan Rattiner Collection within their climate-controlled Whitman Library. A total of $130,000 is needed. Currently, $73,000 has been raised. Every dollar helps. Contribute? Write a tax-deductible check to “Stony Brook Foundation” marked “for Dan’s Papers archive” and mail to Stony Brook Foundation, 230 Administration, Stony Brook University, Stony Brook, NY 11794-1188 or visit sbugiving.com/danspapers.