You don’t need to be from Massachusetts to know about the Kennedys. But the fact that this political dynasty is located right here at home is undoubtedly a feather in our caps. There was John, Robert, John Jr., and now…

Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

I’m sure you don’t need me to recap the various misadventures on his road to the White House. The bear cub story, his anti-vaccine activism that led to a fatal measles outbreak in Samoa, his idea of registering every autistic person in the country, and his proud proclamations of knowing Bill Cosby, Jeffrey Epstein, Harvey Weinstein, and also probably some good people, too. But there’s been one story that many have found to be unforgettable. Definitive, even. But as it so happens, that story isn’t over.

“What should you call me?” It sat across from us, hanging its “head” low as it pondered the question. “I’ve thought about that one quite a good deal. There was a time when I had no name. I was just a series of impulses and animalistic desires, crawling my way through life until it was time for me to die. But I guess that’s his department now.” The worm, who had startlingly human facial features, smiled warmly at us. “Honestly, you should call me Robert. As of the past few years, I’m more him than he is.”

If you haven’t guessed by now, the subject of our interview was none other than the famous worm that had crawled into Mr. Kennedy’s skull, eaten a part of his brain, and then reportedly died of a mercury overdose caused by the large quantities of tuna consumed by the host body. However, the reports were wrong. At least partially. 

“I’m afraid reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated”, the worm joked. “I hope you’ll forgive me, but I couldn’t help indulging myself by quoting my favorite author, Mark Twain. Never did a man have a better grasp of humor and its power in our culture. He was… Ah, but I could go on for ages. I’m sure there are more immediate things we should discuss.” 

The worm had feasted on RFK’s mercury-abundant grey matter, but instead of dying, it found itself mutating into something different. Something new.

“I spent the next few days in a sort of delirious state. Every cell in my brain grew at an exponential rate. Where there had been nothing but hunger and an urge to keep crawling through whatever I had to, I began seeing glimpses of people and places completely unfamiliar to me. It was only about five days in that my mind could comprehend what was happening. These were Robert’s memories. His intellect. It was really quite startling.”

Looking at it (or should we say him?), there was no question that he had been completely transformed. While still the same size, he had grown eyes, ears, and a nose. Non-biological changes were also apparent, as the pair of glasses he wore and the pipe he smoked made him look different than anyone else of wormkind. In all honesty, he seemed a perfectly sensible fellow. The thing of it was, that was part of the problem.

“I don’t mean to presume, but I think it is quite clear that I am a generally well-adjusted worm. I’ve a wit and a curiosity that has charmed everyone I have been fortunate enough to talk to. But, looking at my human counterpart, can you say the same? If I am being quite honest, he reminds me of myself back in my unenlightened days. The man says he will eat almost anything. I remember thinking the same thing as I was crawling through three-day-old canine feces. He doesn’t believe in science. I didn’t know what science was. Everything that made him a… dare I be blunt? I think I shall. Everything that made him a man has now been transferred to me. I’m more Robert F. Kennedy Jr. than this country’s Secretary of Health and Human Services is. God help us all.”

This statement reminded us of a classic philosophical question that has plagued mankind for millennia. The ship of Theseus. The idea is that an old ship will one day have all of its parts replaced by new ones. If another ship were made with all of these old parts, which would be the real ship? 

“I believe the answer would be whichever one knew better than to eat a dead bear it found on the road,” replied the worm with a slight chuckle. 

Junior—as we’ve named him due to his diminutive size—had one last announcement to make before concluding our interview. “This country cannot go on as it has been. The divisiveness and the lies. It needs someone honest. Notice how I don’t say honest person.” 

Junior plans to run for the 2028 presidency. He is looking to start a grass-roots campaign that promises the people to send a worm of conviction to the White House. And maybe that should be so. We humans have shown even less spine than worms lately. 

“As an earthworm, I promise to respect Mother Nature. I will take care of the parasites in Washington and squirm my way through the bureaucracy to give the people what they want. What they need!” As he told us this, we found that we could not help but cheer. He had a way with words that could excite. Entertain. More dangerously, he made us feel…

Hope.