Robert Silverberg - Ms. Found in an Abandoned Time Machine

“Well—”

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” I said. “You’re going to do it. You’re going to decree an end to all the garbage that’s been going down in this country. You know how I know you’re going to do it? Because I’ve got this shiny little metal tube in my hand and it emits vibrations that are real strong stuff, vibrations that are going to get your head together when I press the button. Ready or not, here I go. One, two, three …z ap.

“Right on, baby,” the President said.

The rest is history.

Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh, God. If it could only be that easy. One, two, three, zap. But it doesn’t work like that. I don’t have any magic wand. What makes you think I did? How was I able to trick you into a suspension of disbelief? You, reader, sitting there on your rear end, what do you think I really am? A miracle man? Some kind of superbeing from Galaxy Ten? I’ll tell you what I really am, me, Thomas C—. I’m a bunch of symbols on a piece of paper. I’m just something abstract trapped within a mere fiction. A “hero” in a “story.” Helpless, disembodied, unreal. UNREAL! Whereas you out there—you have eyes, lungs, feet, arms, a brain, a mouth, all that good stuff. You can function. You can move. You can act. Work for the Revolution! Strive for change! You’re operating in the real world; you can do it if anybody can! Struggle toward…umph…glub…. Hey, get your filthy hands off me—power to the people! Down with the fascist pigs…hey—help—HELP!