And so there came upon the nation a great (not so great, really) and terrible Pharaoh.
He promised the hungry that he would provide for them, but soon after he rose to power, he took the food from their mouths to feed his army.
He named the earth, sky and water as his property, there only for the purpose of enriching his reign with black gold.
He sought to enslave women by taking away their reproductive rights and health care. He boasted that they, too, were his property, to sexually assault at his leisure.
The women rose up and marched in the streets crying out, “Women’s rights are human rights!” but Pharaoh was too busy making speeches to his followers, who were drunk on his lies as if they were fine wine.
He removed the cloak of protection from children persecuted for being different, and sought to end artful pleasures for the people.
He ordered his minions to build a pyramid along the southern border and paid for it by taxing the poor and the middle class. Neither the Pharaoh nor the wealthy would have to pay.
He instructed his minions to close and lock every gate to the promised land.
Even as he ignored the cries of the children outside the gates, he threw hatchets at their oppressor to blind the people into further confusion.
The people beat their chests, looked up to heaven and cried out, “Please deliver us from Pharaoh!”
And so appeared not one but several prophets named Moses. Moses Warren, Moses Gillibrand, Moses Biden, Moses Yates, Moses Kennedy Jr., Moses Booker and Moses Winfrey.
They held hands as they approached the palace crying, “Let my people go!”
But Pharaoh was preoccupied writing his thoughts in 140 hieroglyphics or less, his proclamations bringing chaos in the angry crowds outside the palace.
The many Moses raised their hands to the sky and sent out the first of 10 plagues.
They filled the waters around Nordstrom Palace with blood until the Pharoah’s daughter floated out.
Pharaoh was unmoved.
So they persisted.
They sent hordes of pink frogs chanting, “We want a leader, not a crazy tweeter!”
Pharaoh ignored them and barred messengers from the palace, saying they brought him only “fake news.”
They sent swarms of flying filibusters.
Wild animals in “Not my President” T-shirts.
Pestilence in the form of town halls causing the Pharaoh’s henchmen to hide in fear and shame.
Boils on the face of Pharaoh’s most evil of henchmen – Bannon.
Hailstorms of emails, letters, calls and post cards.
Angry protesters, swarming like locusts.
Darkness fell as the candles of Pharaoh’s support were extinguished one by one.
His skin grew more orange. His bloated belly expanded so that he needed three thrones, but Pharaoh remained unmoved. When he might have been finding ways to help the people, he pretended to hit a tiny ball with a stick and counted his gold coins.
It came to pass that Moses Winfrey raised her hands in the air and announced, “Since you clearly don’t need any experience for this job, I’ll be seeing you in 2020! Until then, it’s time for the 10th plague!
She instructed all the sane and decent people to affix their doors with a Planned Parenthood or ACLU sticker.
That night, the Angel of Death visited the land.
Pharaoh awakened to the cries of the princess, not his wife, who preferred to live as far away from the Pharaoh as possible.
“He is dead, he is dead!” she screamed.
“Who is dead?” asked the Pharaoh, and sought to comfort his daughter, but stopped because he didn’t know how to comfort anyone but himself.
“You’re dead. Your approval ratings and that of the party that supports you are in the murky mud of the swamp. You are the least popular Pharaoh in history, and the people wish to drive you from your palace.”
Then Pharaoh said, “I like the swamp. I am the best at living in the swamp, truly,” then quickly ran to his West Wing bathroom throne and wrote his hieroglyphics for the people. “I am huge! Bigly!” Then he flushed, as if knowing the true value of those words.
And Moses Winfrey spoke to the people.
“You don’t need us to deliver you from this evil. … Vote, resist and speak out. Be your own Moses!”
And the people did revolt, and Pharaoh took refuge in Russia.
And so every year, to honor the self-empowering revolution when the people were freed from slavery by finding their own inner Moses, we celebrate by having our Passover Seder.
We don our pink pussyhats and celebrate the moment in history when we found our power!
Happy Passover. You are you own Moses!