Rules by Which America May be Reduced

A wise man once said that those who fail to study history are doomed to repeat it. The study of American history has been corrupted for decades now, and as a result we appear to be treading the same path. This is made clear if we independently study our history and look at the reasons behind the revolution.


In 1773, in an attempt to show Parliament and the British people how their actions were serving to alienate the colonies, Benjamin Franklin wrote a document Rules by Which a Great Empire May Be Reduced to a Small One. In reading this wonderful piece of comedic literature I was struck by how our current government is repeating the actions which caused us to break from the British Parliament and Monarchy.

I make no claims to possessing the brilliance of Mr. Franklin, but for the love of my country and the desire to see her remain strong, I am compelled to emulate the great man and list out the ways in which we are now working to reduce our nation.

The first and most important rule is to divide the people, and therefore the nation. A people bound together by common goals, common beliefs and common sacrifices will not be divided. Therefore, in order to achieve your goal of division you must make people focus on their differences instead of their similarities. You must convince some that they are owed the fruits of another’s toils.

To further divide the people you must have two sets of laws and rules, or at least apply them differently. If taxes are levied on the people, these groups must be exempt. If the favored group behaves badly, it must be the ill favored group who bears the cost. This will insure that the favored group shows superiority and contempt while animosity builds within those ill favored. Do not, under any circumstances, promote true fairness and equality for this will undermine your efforts of division.

You must give no credence to any complaints offered by the people. Instead, no matter how peaceful their objections may be communicated, you should always assume that they are on the verge of violence and treat them as such. A good idea in this instance is to consider them as a terror risk and list them as more dangerous to the country than any foreign threat. The real benefit of this plan is that you may, if real care is taken, turn your suspicions of revolution into reality.

Next, you must take care to avoid the approval of the people in any political appointees. Should the people believe that their government officials are honest, and have the best interest of the people and the nation at heart, this will only serve to strengthen the bond of the people to their government. As a result, you must select people unqualified, contemptuous of the masses, elitist and, if at all possible, openly corrupt.

To drive the wedge even deeper, should anybody complain or otherwise speak out, you must make them the villain. Investigate them more thoroughly than you would any criminal and expose every mistake they have made in their past. Call their character into question and make their life such a hell that no other will dare to take such a stand in future. This will close off a critical outlet for the people and make them even more desperate and angry.

Another very important rule is to take more and more of the people’s money and flagrantly waste it. Take from the hard working people and give large salaries to the officials they despise. You must also use the money to prop up those in the government’s favor, again serving to divide the people. Constantly remind the people that the government knows best how to spend their money while simultaneously wasting it on programs the people do not support. It is also best if you can use the people’s money taken through taxation to institute and fund government programs which will take their liberties as well. This will prevent those left in poverty through punitive taxation from taking comfort in their freedom and liberty

Make the people ashamed of the greatness of their nation. Paint her in the worst possible light both domestically and abroad. As patriotic pride is squelched, individual ambition and determination will decrease as well. This will assist in the destruction of the economic foundation thereby expediting the division of the people.

Most importantly, deny that you have any culpability in the discontent of the people. Take no responsibility and give no acknowledgements to the legitimacy of any complaint. Should you do this, should you follow these simple rules, the nation will become divided, the states will break apart and you will be freed from the bother and necessity of ruling a great nation.

A State of the Union Carole - Chapter 6

Chapter 1

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5

Chapter 6


Questions were swamping the mind of the president, questions he had never had before. For the first time in his life he was questioning the ideology of his heroes, the ideology that was instilled in him as a child and fostered as he grew. He still believed in justice, both economic and social, but was it truly justice if the majority of the people considered it unjust? Could you give justice to one person by taking it from another?

His mentors and teachers had instilled in him the deep seated belief that the people didn’t know what was best for them, that they chose their leaders to think for them, but the people were expressing a different view. Was it really right to force people into a direction they did not want to go just because it was what he thought was best? For the first time in his career, or even his life, he was not so sure.

“Glad to see you’re getting some sense,” came a deep voice though a body had not yet appeared.

Feeling beaten down, defeated and a bit dejected, the president made no response, instead waiting contritely for the ghosts to appear. As he watched, the two forms took shape and they were easily recognizable. One, James Madison, because he had seen him speak on the trip to the past; the other George Washington because he was in uniform. As before, the men did not wear particularly welcoming expressions.

“Are you ready to see,” came the same voice, now identified as belonging to James Madison, “where your policies will lead the nation?”

The president shook his head. “I don’t think I want to see. It can’t be good or you wouldn’t be here. Please,” he pleaded, “can’t we end this now.”

“Stop being a sniveling coward,” barked Washington. “A leader has to know the consequences of his actions and should never shrink from the results of the decisions he’s made. Your decisions impact the lives of millions and insulating yourself from those impacts serves no one. Especially not the people you serve.”

“Not to mention,” said Madison, “that I have no faith that your new found contrition will last beyond the break of day without these images burned into your memory. It is one thing to know intellectually, it is another thing entirely to see it absolutely.”

“And you’ve been dealing with things too much on the theoretical and intellectual basis,” added Washington. “You’ve stuffed your cabinet with people who have theorized everything and done nothing. It’s time to step out and smell the bullshit you’ve shoveled onto the heads of the people.”

Madison chuckled a bit at Washington’s phrasing, but couldn’t disagree with him. In order to take that first step to enlightening the president, Madison waved his arm gracefully.

The president watched in awe as the walls of the oval office became one large screen which began to fill with an image that the president recognized. It was a talking head on a news station and the statements of the anchor sent a chill through the president.

“The White House announces that the economy has turned a corner as the unemployment rate drops to16% for Febrary. However, millions of people are still waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel. As the threat of lowering America’s credit rating has banks scrambling and interest rates soaring, even those still employed face troubling times ahead.”

The broadcast appeared to be lost as snow covered the image, but it was quickly replaced by another talking head.

“Six more confirmed dead in Minneapolis as freezing temperatures war with skyrocketing energy prices. There are literally hundreds of stories of people forced to choose between heat and food or medication. The hardest hit by rising energy costs has been the elderly as the result of high energy taxes and lowering social security benefits. Four families were arrested for burning wood for heat in direct violation of EPA regulations. When asked for comment, one suspect stated that at least in prison they’d be warm.”

Snow.

“Riots broke out all over today,” said the handsome, exceptionally groomed man in the new image, “as election results were announced. The citizens are crying foul and stating that the declared winner was not the recipient of the majority of the vote.”

“Why are you showing me this,” the president asked. At the raised brows of the ghosts he continued. “I understand the first two, but why this one? This kind of thing is already going on in Iran now so why are you saying this is my fault?”

His question was answered as the news anchor continued to speak. “The Stability Police have been deployed in seventeen states now to deal with the riots. Though each of the Secretaries of State claim that there are no irregularities in the vote counting, the populace remains unconvinced.”

Snow.

“Twenty-five people are dead in St Louis where the Stability Police fired into the crowd of protestors. Shots have been fired in numerous cities in an attempt to bring the populace under control but we have been unable to obtain confirmation of any other deaths as information is currently in a strangle hold by the federal government. The president has stated that the voting process is secure and the appointed winners were duly and democratically elected. This in spite of the exit polls showing the declared winners trailing by 20 points.”

Snow.

“Tennessee joined the growing list of states considering secession today despite the president’s statements that any talk of seceding from the union would be treated as treason. The count is now up to fourteen states with rumors of at least another dozen prepared to join.”

The president felt a knot developing in his stomach, the pain causing a cold sweat to break out on his forehead. Is this really what he was doing? He had wanted to change the shape of the nation, yes, but he had not wanted to break it up. Surely the states wouldn’t go that far. Surely it was all just talk.

James Madison leveled a heavy stare upon him as the image on the wall changed again. This time the news feed was from China, the words translated by an unseen force and broadcast into the room. “Civil war broke out in the Unites States yesterday leading to concerns over how the struggling country will repay the trillions in dollars it owes to China. Foreign diplomats fled the nation as it erupted into violence but many UN officials are still unaccounted for. Thousands of US military have abandoned their posts and rumors are flying that they have joined up with the rebels in fighting the growing Stability Police Force.”

The president tore his eyes from the screen to look into the disapproving countenances of the founding fathers. “No more. I don’t want to see anymore.”

“But there is more to see,” said Washington. “You must see the impact of the war you created.”

“I didn’t want this,” the president cried. “I didn’t want civil war. I didn’t want any kind of war at all.”

“You dare to say you didn’t want war,” Madison cried. “It was you who waged war on our form of government and our way of life. It was you who found a way to undermine the democratic process. Did you really believe that the people of our great nation would meekly submit to the stripping of their God given rights and freedoms?”

“Of course he did,” came Washington’s more modulated tones. “How could a man who does not believe there is anything worth dying for, even begin to understand the people who do?”

“This isn’t real,” the president said. “It can’t be real. We want peace and equality not war. This can’t be true. It just can’t be.”

“But it is,” said Madison. “You can’t force people to bend to your will and call that peace and equality. A freedom loving people will never go easily into tyranny and it appears that you underestimated…”

“Seriously underestimated,” Washington interjected.

“….just how much the American people love their freedoms and liberties,” finished Madison. “This was always the path it would take. Only a fool blinded by his own ego, or his own need for control, could fail to see that.”

The president hung his head at this admonishment, ashamed of himself in a way he had never been before. “Are we done now? Can it stop?”

“It can stop,” said Washington, “we would not have shown it to you if it could not be changed, but there is more to show you. You need to see the realities of the battles being waged.”

The president steeled himself against what he feared would greet him as the room faded around him and was replaced by the sounds of gunfire, the smell of blood, and the vision of hundreds of dead and dying. Lying there before him was an older version of John Alexander, his idealistic speech writer, dead in the mud on a field of battle that never should be.

“They killed him,” the president said. “He was nothing but a speech writer and yet they killed him. How could they do such a thing?”

“Look closer at him and you’ll find the ‘we’ you’re condemning is not the ‘we’ you think you are. The ‘we’ is you.”

The president knelt beside the body and there he saw it, the patch that identified him not as US military or the Stability police, but as a rebel fighter.”

“Yes,” said Madison, “It was your troops who killed him. First you took his ideals and then you took his life.”

“But I didn’t want war,” the president cried again. “I wanted peace. All I wanted was real peace.”

“Peace is not solely the absence of violence,” said Washington, “and sometimes, all too often, the only way to achieve peace is to wage war.” The general and former president swept his arm in a gesture to indicate the destruction around him. “Peace is all these people wanted as well. The peace that only freedom from tyranny can bring, and you took from them every path by which they could achieve it. Every path but this one.”

“I see now,” the president sighed. “Please don’t show me any more. I don’t know if I can take it. Please let this be it. Please let it be over.”

The ghosts stood over the president who still knelt in the mud and said nothing. Tears seeped slowly from the closed eyes of the newly humbled powerful man as he continued to beg, to plead, to be shown no more. His requests were met with continued silence. Finally, unable to bear the lack of response he opened his eyes to confront the ghosts of the final founding fathers and gasped in shock. He was alone, and he was in the oval office, safe and clean.

A State of the Union Carole - Chapter 5

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

Chapter 5

As the president watched, two shapes solidified from the open air around him. However, unlike the other two, these men brought with them something else. The men were dressed similarly to the last two, one in a suit and one in jeans, but above their heads was a series of numbers that the president recognized as the national debt clock and the numbers were increasing at an alarming rate.

The man in the suit, bearing a serious and stern expression, was the first to speak. “I am Alexander Hamilton, first Secretary of the Treasury of these United States.”

“And I am Thomas Jefferson,” said the man in the jeans. “Third president of the United States, and we are here to show you the true state of the union at this time in American history.”

“Look,” the president stated. “I know the state of the union. It is my job to know it and I do my job quite well. It is a waste of all our times for you to show me something I already know.”

“I concur,” Jefferson said, “that it is in all probability a waste of our time.” At the current president’s smile and sigh of relief, Jefferson continued. “Not because you know the state of the union, but because you are staunchly resistant to any viewpoint but your own. However, I have been directed to show you what I will, and that direction comes from a power higher than either you or I could ever achieve.”

“We know,” added Hamilton, “that you believe yourself a god, but our directions come from the real God and nothing you say could sway us from carrying out any task assigned by Him.”

The president pointed above the heads of his visitors and said, “that clock is unnecessary. I am fully aware of the national debt that my predecessor ran up and the need for me to spend even more of the taxpayer’s money to right the wrongs he created.”

“By taking a bad situation and making it worse,” said Jefferson turning to look at Hamilton. “You were an economist, does that appear a sound plan to you?”

“Not particularly,” Hamilton replied, “But perhaps it could work if the money was spent wisely and could be paid back. Neither of which applies in this case. The money was spent foolishly, wasted in fact, did nothing to improve the situation, and cannot be paid back. But what will happen there is not ours to show, that will come with the next visit. Let’s stay on track, Tom, shall we?”

“Of course, Alex.” Though the words were spoken politely, there was a sense of strain in them.

“Wait a minute,” the president said, holding up both hands in the traditional stop gesture. “I get the feeling that the two of you don’t like each other much. I don’t want to be stuck in the middle of some personal battle between the two of you so if that’s what you’re going to do, then count me out.”

“You cannot be counted out,” said Jefferson, “and the disagreements between Hamilton and myself are the same disagreements we have with you. Not all of the founding fathers agreed on how the government should be instituted,” he continued, “Adams and Franklin should have already shown you that.”

The president nodded skeptically and said, “Yes, they did, but what does that have to do with the personal issues going on here.”

“The personal issue is that Secretary Hamilton and I disagreed on basic philosophies. He was a proponent of a large and powerful central government, and I was a proponent of leaving more power in the hands of the people.”

“And this disagreement has been going on for more than 200 years?”

“Off and on, yes,” said Hamilton, “but it has been raised to the forefront again in recent days. Jefferson,” Hamilton sneered, “said that I should be happy with the direction the country has been heading. I took exception to that gross exaggeration of my initial views on government.”

“Exaggeration,” Jefferson scoffed. “Eliminate the states all together and appoint a president for life. Isn’t that what you said?”

“A president for life sounds good to me,” said the president with a grin.

Jefferson spun back around to face him. “You must be joking. You’re one of the main examples we use to show just how flawed Hamilton’s plan was.”

“Ok, you know I only said that because the state governments were so power hungry and spiraling down a path of corruption.”

“A path the federal government is now emulating.”
Hamilton opened his mouth to continue the debate but Jefferson cut him off. “That brings us back to the reason we’re here.”

“I hate when you do that,” Hamilton mumbled.

Jefferson just grinned in response and waved his hands. Instead of travelling through space or time, space and time were brought to them. As the president watched a myriad of visions appeared around the room, all a live feed and the number of them constantly expanding. The images were of people in heated discussions or sitting at their computers reading, researching or typing.

As the pictures changed and the volume of them expanded until not a space in the oval office was left open, Jefferson said, “These are only a small portion of the people speaking out against your policies at this very moment in time. Just imagine, if you can what this would look like earlier in the day.”

The president waved his hand dismissively. “They’re just spouting the opposition’s talking points,” he said, “They’re paid by the Republicans to do that.”

“Really,” said Hamilton. “How shocking. But how do you know that? How can you be sure?”

“I’m sure,” said the president.

“But why are you so sure?” echoed Jefferson.

“Because that’s what …..” the president allowed his sentence to trail off.

“What you do,” finished Hamilton. “That’s what you do in order to get your message out there. But what if I told you you’re wrong. That those people are not paid and are not echoing the opposition’s talking points as you put it?”

“I wouldn’t believe you,” the president replied.

“It’s not even possible,” asked Jefferson, “that they’re writing and expressing their own thoughts on the issues?”

“No,” was the president’s monosyllabic reply.

“So in your opinion, the masses are incapable of forming their own opinions?”

“Not on matters of such importance. They may be told by their party’s leadership to object but they don’t really know why. The masses are woefully ignorant of just about everything.”

“Just to be sure, you’re absolutely positive that all of these people are paid to express the minority party’s opinion?”

“Yes, as I’ve already told you. Why are you pushing this so hard?”

“Because,” said Hamilton with a flourish, “these are members of your party.”

The president’s jaw dropped and his eyes flew open. “My party? That’s not possible.”

“You can’t be surprised,” proclaimed Jefferson. “You’ve had to buy votes from representatives and senators alike who feared they would lose their seat if they voted for your policies. Having had to resort to such machinations how can you possibly be surprised that members of your own party are upset?”

“Yes, well, they’ll come to their senses, of that I’m sure.”

“But it doesn’t really matter, does it,” asked Hamilton. “You have a plan in place to deal with the situation already; to ensure that your party members are not voted out of office.”

“What are you talking about?”

A look was exchanged between the two ghosts and before the president could blink an eye they were swirling through time. When they came to an abrupt halt after a very short trip, an image of a conference room filled with people formed before them.

“Do you know who this group of individuals is,” asked Hamilton.

“No, of course I don’t,” replied the president even though the ghosts knew he was lying.

“This is the Secretary of State project. Those people on your side of the political aisle who believe, as Stalin did, that those who cast the votes are nowhere near as powerful as those who count them.”

“Voter fraud and intimidation is the Republican’s specialty, no ours.”

Jefferson cocked his head to the side and studied the president before saying to Hamilton, “I think he’s beginning to believe his own lies. How interesting.”

“I don’t believe so,” replied Hamilton. “I think he truly believes that not allowing the dead to vote is fraud and insisting that people are actually eligible to cast their vote is intimidation. A load of poppycock of course, but he believes it.”

“Hmm,” said Jefferson before turning back to the group in the conference room. They listened as the plan was set out to spend at least as much money on electing the Secretary of State who would be responsible for counting the votes, as they spent on electing the person the people would be voting for. They had figured out a way to ensure the perpetuation of their own power and it disturbed them not a bit that they would be cheating.

“How can you allow this to happen,” Jefferson asked. “It is your job to enforce the laws and protect the republic, how can you support the undermining of the linchpin of our democratic process? Is it all just to feed your own power?”

“I’m doing what’s right for the people,” the president replied.

“As to that,” Hamilton quipped, “the people appear to disagree with you.”

“They may disagree, but most of them need somebody to tell them what to do or what they need.”

Hamilton shook his head sadly at this. “Oh sir, government controlled liberty is no liberty at all. It is one thing to tell somebody what to do, it is another thing entirely to control the doing of it.”

“I’m still confident that the people are on my side. They simply require some time to adjust.”

“Shall we show him,” Jefferson asked of Hamilton.

“Yes, I believe we shall.”

With that they took another spin, but before they could make even one full tumble in the annals of time, they were at their destination.

The president looked around the room in the modest house and sneered. Why would the ghosts be showing him these people. With their curio cabinets full of whatnots and their walls covered in framed family photos, these were not people who mattered in the decision making process. Why would the ghosts be wasting their time on such people as these?

“We’ll show you,” said Jefferson, “why, though you don’t think these people matter, we believe they are representative of the cornerstone of this nation.”

“They’re watching your state of the union address. Shall we see how they react,” Hamilton asked.

The couple appeared to be in their early to mid 60’s. The man was sitting in a recliner with the foot kicked up and the woman was curled up on the couch with her knitting, both listening intently to the words of the president on the screen when, out of the blue, the man said, “Dear.”

The woman’s head snapped up, her knitting needles still clicking away though her gaze was on her husband. “Yes, honey?”

“We need to go out tomorrow and get ammunition.”

“Ammunition? For what?”

“My shotgun,” he said with barely any emotion.

“You haven’t fired that gun in nearly forty years, why the need for ammunition now?”

“Protection,” was his simple reply.

“We have a security system,” the wife said as a bewildered expression covered her face.

"That may work on a burglar, but it won’t do a thing to keep the government out.”

“Ah, yes. I see your point. Shall we pick up another gun while we’re out?”

The man focused his gaze on her intently. “I think we had better get them before they’re banned.”

“Revolution does appear to be imminent. If things don’t change dramatically, and fast, we’re going to need a way to protect ourselves from the government.”

Their discussion continued as to the reasons behind their beliefs and what they expected to happen.

“The people are beginning to believe that the only option left to protect their liberties is to rise up against their government,” said Jefferson. “This is what you’ve done.”

“They’ve just been listening to Glenn beck or Rush Limbaugh too much. Those men and their ideas are dangerous to the country.”

“Which is why you’re looking for ways to silence them against the express protection of free speech in the Constitution,” said Jefferson.

“Even if they did,” added Hamilton, “if they are preparing for revolution against your policies and your control, does it matter where the idea originated?”

“Of course it matters,” cried the president, “with their lies they are inciting insurrection. They have to be silenced.”

“The problem is,” said Hamilton, “that they’re telling the truth and the people know it.”

With this statement the ghosts took the president on a short hop into the past. They materialized outside the capitol building where hundreds of thousands of Americans were protesting the government spending and irresponsibility.

“Look at them,” said Jefferson. “This country stands upon a precipice; it will either return to liberty or sink into tyranny. In which direction will you lead it?”

The president looked at the mass of people holding signs and calling for change, and for the very first time began to question what he was doing. He had been so sure that people wouldn’t be paying attention, that they wouldn’t see what was happening, but he’d been wrong about that. Could he be, was it possible that he was wrong about other things? No, surely not.

Before he could decide how to respond, they were travelling again, this time landing back in the white house though not in the oval office. They were in a fairly small room dominated by a large desk, behind which sat his speech writer, John Alexander. However, instead of working on the speech the young man was on the phone.

The president’s lips pursed in displeasure at this sight. No wonder the boy wasn’t getting the speech written correctly.

“I’m sorry, honey,” John said.

“You need to quit that job,” replied a feminine voice that filled the room.

“I know, I do,” John replied. “And I’m going to as soon as this speech is turned in. I can’t take it anymore.”
“And I don’t like what it’s done to you. I want my husband back. My real husband and not the stressed out, disappointed and disillusioned man that jackass has turned you into.”

“I know, baby. I just have to stay long enough to make him think I’m rewriting the speech and then I’ll be home.”

“You’re not re-writing it?”

The presidents lips had pursed tighter and his hands had clenched in anger at this statement.

“He revises the speeches and revises them again,” John said, “until they are almost exactly what I wrote the first time and I’ve had enough of it. I’m going to turn in my first version and I can almost guarantee he won’t even notice.”

“And then you’ll quit and come back to me?”

“Yes, I’m coming home and I’m getting the hell out of politics. Ronald Reagan was right. It’s the second oldest profession and bears a striking resemblance to the first. And I find that I don’t make a very good whore.”

“While that president that you were so excited over has proven himself to be one of history’s most exceptional courtesans.”

“Yes,” John replied. “A lousy leader but a truly great politician.”

The couple was still talking as the ghosts led the president from the room and through the halls of the white house until they walked right past the secret service and back in to the oval office.

“You’ve seen where we come from,” said Jefferson, “and now you see where we are.”

“Balanced on the razors edge of revolution again,” said Hamilton. “The next ghosts will show you in which direction you tip the nation.”

“We’ll leave you now,” Jefferson said as he pointed to the clock. “This time with an opportunity to think about what you’ve seen before the next ghosts appear. I suggest you use that time to your advantage.”

And with that, their forms thinned and faded until they were no more, the last thing to fade was the debt clock which had remained above their heads the entire time and now reflected a debt that had grown by millions in the space of their trip. The president stared at the empty space where the ghosts had stood, his mind full and his conscience heavy, but for all that still sure that he was doing the right thing. Still sure that the people needed what he had to offer and that it was for their own good, even if they disagreed. He was still sure. Wasn’t he?

Chapter 6 will be posted Wednesday, Jan 20th

A State of the Union Carole - Chapter 4

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Chapter 4


Before the president knew what was happening he was twirling, tumbling and spinning through time again. He was shown debates among the people regarding whether or not the Constitution should be ratified and he smirked at the disorganization of the anti-federalists. He knew who would win in this fight and he knew why. Keeping the opposition disorganized, or at least making them appear so, was a tactic he was familiar with and used to his advantage.

He witnessed the hard won fight for a representative seat by James Madison over John Monroe and he watched as the first Congress under the Constitution gathered. He was sure they were done now. They had to be. What more could they possibly show him. The country had been formed through debate. Yeah. So. Whatever. Debate wasted a lot of time and, as history had shown him, could end up in the loss of your agenda. Why allow debate when it could be that risky. Just do it and move on.

“That pea brain of yours is working overtime, boy.” As the president stood frozen in shocked silence, Ben Franklin continued, “Yes, we can hear everything you’re thinking and it’s clear you haven’t learned a thing yet. But what we’re about to show you is a lesson you’d do well to heed.” Franklin pointed to James Madison just as the man was rising to speak. “This is what the country needs right now. Not to have legislation they neither want nor can afford shoved down their throats against their collective will.”

“He’s going to do something totally foreign to your mind,” added John Adams. “He’s going to actually address the concerns of the people who didn’t support the Constitution and ensure that their worries are alleviated.”

Ben frowned hard at the president before adding, “Even though he could have just said, we won, they lost, they need to get over it.” He paused to allow this usage of the president’s own thoughts to sink in. “He knew that failing to address legitimate issues, even if they’re expressed by people who lost the election, was a sure way to keep the country divided.”

Angered that they had been listening to his thoughts, the president was defensive, angry and petulant. “But in a democracy the majority rules. It is the majority who voted you in that you are responsible for legislating for. The majority wanted what I have to give them and they are my only concern.”

Another slap to the head accompanied this declaration. “Where did you get the idea that this is a democracy? It’s a republic you ignorant ass. A democratically elected republic but a republic all the same. As a representative of the people you are responsible for addressing the concerns of all of them, not just those who voted for you. If you can give the majority what they want while mitigating the concerns of the minority then that’s what you should do.”

“And let’s not forget that the majority may have wanted what you promised, but that same majority doesn’t want it the way you’re delivering it.”

The president attempted to speak but again found his voice blocked. “Hush,” said Franklin, “Madison is about to speak.”

In order to win the tough election, Madison had promised to address the concerns of his district and he was determined to do so; enumerating the list of negative liberties on the government which the president had publicly lamented.

While Madison believed these amendments to be unnecessary, assured that the elected officials would hold to the rights of the individuals and the states which, though not specified, were well understood, he also acknowledged that listing them would do no harm to the actual form of government.

The speech by Madison began with his reasons behind the proposed amendments, the arguments for it and the arguments against it. He acknowledged that not all of the states had ratified the document and that many of the people who did not support it were patriotic men and staunch defenders of the liberties that all had sacrificed for. He stressed that they could acquire the support of these objectors if they would make this single concession and that having wider support could in no way be a bad thing.

The president was getting angrier and angrier as he listed to Madison speak. Had the man, all those years ago, not been so rigid about giving in to the losers then his current administration would not be so tied by those negative liberties. They would not constantly have to answer stupid questions about the Constitutionality of their decisions, and he’d be free to silence his detractors. If this speech was teaching him anything it was that his plans for no debate were the correct way to go.

“Pay attention,” was harshly whispered in his ear as the speech continued.

“I do conceive,” said Madison, “that the Constitution may be amended; that is to say, if all power is subject to abuse, that then it is possible the abuse of powers of the general government may be guarded against in a more secure manner than is now done, while no one advantage arising from the exercise of that power shall be damaged or endangered by it.” The president snorted at this as he saw his power seriously damaged by that damned Bill of Rights. “We have in this way,” continued Madison, “something to gain, and if we proceed with caution, nothing to lose.”

“Nothing to lose?” said the president. “I can see a lot that we stand to lose. What he’s proposing will hamstring the government for centuries to come.”

“What he’s proposing,” said Adams, “will protect the people from their government for centuries to come. It will protect them until a corrupt government convinces them that material possessions are more important than liberty.”

The president opened his mouth to speak again but was silenced by another smack to the head by Franklin.

Oblivious to the unorthodox visitors, Madison had continued with his speech. “…because it grants more power than is supposed to be necessary for every good purpose, and controls the ordinary powers of the state governments. I know some respectable characters who opposed this government on this grounds, but I believe that the great mass of the people who opposed it, disliked it because it did not contain effectual provisions against the encroachments on particular rights, and those safeguards which they have been long accustomed to have interposed between them and the magistrate who exercises the sovereign power; nor ought we to consider them safe, while a great number of our fellow citizens think these securities necessary.”

“I still don’t understand,” the president said, “why he had to list out negative powers for the government that way. Why not tell us what we can do instead of telling us what we can’t do.”

“If you would shut up for even the briefest amount of time,” said Adams through clenched teeth, “he’ll get to that point. I can’t believe you claim to have been a Constitutional attorney when you don’t know why the limits are worded as they are.”

The president crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the wall and prepared to be bored. This was serving no purpose whatsoever and no matter what they showed of the nation’s past, it wasn’t going to change his mind.

At last Madison got to the point at hand. “But, whatever may be the form which the several States have adopted in making declarations in favor of particular rights, the great object in view is to limit and qualify the powers of government, by excepting out of the grant of power those cases in which the government ought not to act, or to act only in a particular mode.”

“There you go,” said Franklin. “It was a limit of the powers so it had to be a negative power. They had to specify what the government could not do. Their idea was limited government and if they wanted it limited, it was important to many to have those limits defined.”

The speech continued, going through the suggestions for amendments and the request to appoint a committee to write them, finally wrapping up with words even more relevant to the current division between the leaders and the people. “…because I think we should obtain the confidence of our fellow citizens, in proportion as we fortify the rights of the people against the encroachments of the government.”

“Not real big on obtaining the confidence of your fellow citizens are you boy?” asked Franklin.

“I have the confidence of the leaders of my party and they agree with my agenda. We are doing what is right for the people.”

“Whether they like it or not,” Adams interjected. “Although I admit that there are times where the president must go against the will of the people, those times are limited to situations where the president has information that the general public does not. However, even in those instances it is incumbent on the leader to persuade the populace and bring them to his way of thinking. Forcing an idea or an agenda upon the people against their will is exactly what led to the revolution. After all we have shown you have you missed that critical point?”

“I know what the people need better than they do. They need the government to help them and that’s all I offer. Help to the people.”

“But at the risk of their personal liberties,” Franklin replied. “And the people are doing their best to tell you that what you offer is not worth the cost of their freedom.”

“We’re not going to win this argument,” Adams sighed. “Let’s show him the final scene and then take him back. We’ve done all we can.”

This was the best news that the president had heard all night. Just one more to go and then he’d be back in his office safe, sound and still confident of what he was doing.

The ghosts escorted him through the swirls of time and deposited him in a curious place. He was in a lower middle class home with worn furniture where a young man sat watching an old television displaying the image of Bill Clinton.

“Do you recognize that man?”

The president shook his head, unsure of why he would be expected to recognize someone of so little significance.

“That is John Alexander.”

“Who?”

“That young, once idealistic speech writer that you treat so badly.”

“Oh, him,” the president replied. “Why are you wasting my time on him?”

“Watch him,” Franklin said. “Look at how eagerly he absorbs the words of Bill Clinton, a president who helped promote your agenda. Look at how supportive he is and how much he believes the bullshit he’s hearing.”

Still confused, the president shrugged his shoulders. “OK. What’s your point?”

“The point will be made by others. We show you who he was while another will show you what he will become.”

“So are we done now?” The phrase “at last” was not spoken though the thought was heard by the ghosts.

“You are done with us, yes, but you are not done for the night.” Franklin smoothed his t-shirt over his protruding belly and continued, “We have shown you what drove the people to revolution, shown you how that revolution shaped their governmental design and shown you how they believed government should function. We showed you the state of the union as it was created, and we showed you one young man’s idealism as a former president spoke on the state of the union in the recent past. What you will see next is the union as it is now.”

“I know what the state of the union is now. That boy,” cried the president pointing at the idealistic young man still watching Clinton, “is writing my state of the union speech tonight. I don’t need to waste my time with seeing what I already know.”

“A more out of touch individual I’ve yet to see,” Adams stated. “If you knew anything about the state of the union, anything at all, we wouldn’t have wasted our time in visiting you. It’s your complete lack of understanding regarding the state of the union which prompted this visit.”

“I know…”

“Don’t presume to tell us what you know,” roared Franklin. “You know diddly squat so just shut the hell up.” Turning to Adams, Franklin continued, “I am going to be so glad to wash my hands of this guy. What a jackass.”

Without another word the ghosts took the president on his final journey with them. However, unlike the controlled landings of the past, this time the ghosts did not accompany him the entire way back to his office leaving him to land with an unceremonious thud in the middle of the presidential crest on the oval office floor.

Swearing softly, the president stood and brushed himself off, rubbing the elbow he had landed on and thankful that he would have a respite before the next visit.

This thought had barely solidified in his mind when the clock struck one.

 
Chapter 5 will be posted Sunday

Why I Fight

I've been thinking about a way to express just how important the current fight is and how absolutely crucial it is for us to stand up against further government inrusion into our lives, but I struggled to express it adequately.  Then I found the perfect expression of it as written by the Second Continental Congress.

"We have counted the cost of this contest, and find nothing so dreadful as voluntary slavery.  Honor, justice and humanity, forbid us tamely to surrender that freedom which we received from our gallant ancestors, and which our innocent posterity have a right to receive from us.  We cannot endure the infamy and guilt of resigning succeeding generations to that wretchedness which inevitably awaits them if we basely entail hereditary bondage upon them."

Are we not entailing hereditary bondage upon our children and successive generations by allowing the continued and ever growing intrusions into our lives and against our liberties?  How much money do they already owe for the reckless spending of the last decade?  This is exactly why I fight and why I will continue to fight until our liberties are restored or I am silenced by God.

A State of the Union Carole Chapter 3

For Chapter 1 go here
For Chapter 2 go here

Chapter 3


The trio materialized in a room filled with men and debate around what action to take in regards to Parliament. Many were speaking on the side of continued diplomacy, but the exact reference was unclear to the president. “Where are we this time? Getting ready to sign the Declaration of Independence?”

This question was greeting with a slap to the back of his head that felt far too strong and solid to have been delivered by a ghost. However, its origin became clear as Adams spoke.

“Do you see either one of us in this room?” As the president shook his head, both in a negative response and in an attempt to relieve the ringing in his ears Adams continued. “Since both Ben and I signed the Declaration, if this meeting was preparing for that don’t you think you’d see us in the room?”

“I suppose.”

“How can you possibly be the leader of our nation? What on earth were the people thinking?”

“They weren’t thinking,” Ben added. “They weren’t listening when he was talking about fundamentally transforming America. They’re suffering some pretty harsh buyer’s remorse right now though.”

“I was elected by the majority of the people and I will do their will. The people have spoken, my party won the election so the rest of the people need to come to terms with that.”

The two men exchanged a glance, and what appeared to be a moment of unspoken communication. “We’ll get to that attitude later. Right now you are at the Second Virginia Conference and you’re about to hear one of the speeches that most accurately and succinctly describes the feelings of the people at this point. Negotiations have almost completely broken down and as Parliament tries harder to bring us to heel, the people more vehemently resist.”

At this moment a man stood to speak. He was a moderately attractive man; tall and thin with brown hair and a narrow face nearly dominated by a roman nose. He addressed the assemblage and began what would be a powerful speech with a tone of polite respect.

“No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The questing before the House is one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings.

Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House. Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free-- if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained--we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us!

They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable--and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come.

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace-- but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”

At the end of the speech both Adams and Franklin broke into applause, but the president simply stood in silence. Before he could wrap his mind around what he wanted to say, and there was a lot he wanted to say, he was being whisked through time once again. This time before the president could ask where they were, it was volunteered by Adams. “We are in Lexington Mass, April 19, 1775.”

“Oh wait,” cried the president in evident self-admiration. “I know this one. This is the shot heard round the world, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” replied Franklin. “I’ve heard it referred to as such, but it was so much more than that.”

As the travelers stood, the forces began to gather, their fear only outmatched by their resolve. A resolve that would be tested and in many, found lacking. The travelers watched as the first shot was fired and the volley met by the British forces. They watched as the colonists, family men and farmers fled for their lives under the barrage of gunfire that greeted them. They watched as the British soldiers continued to fire even after the order had been given to cease. They watched and listened as the British soldiers crowed in their victory sure that the rebellion was over. They could not have been more wrong.

“The fact that those men, untrained in military operations, would choose to stand and even prepare to fight against the greatest army in the world said more about their views on Britain and her Parliament than the troops or the politicians could ever understand.” Franklin cast one last sad glance at the bodies on the green before he and Adams took the president on yet another trip through time.

They appeared this time inside a Tavern the location of which the president did not know and his companions did not see fit to inform him. The two ghosts immediately left the president and began wandering around the room hovering at various tables inhabited by men in serious debate over their ales. At one of these tables Ben evidently found a conversation which interested him and beckoned to the others.

As the president approached the table the first words he heard were spoken by a man who appeared to be wealthy. His clothes were impeccable and his wig tidy and white. “Independence from Parliament of course, but from the crown? Are we not British subjects? Should we even be discussing such a thing?”

A younger man in garments far less fine took up the opposite side of the debate. “Are we British subjects or are we British slaves. Do they treat us as British subjects when they attempt to end any learned and honest debate with the force of their military? How can we be British subjects when we are afforded no say in our own governance?”

“And with that I agree, but that is resolved in the independence from Parliament. We should be free to rule ourselves with our elected representatives and formulate the laws which impact us, but to break from the crown? To form ourselves as an independent nation?”

“As Ben Franklin has said,” here Ben took a moment to preen at being quoted, “the colonies must band together and create a confederation. We must stand as one and steps have been taken to bind us politically. If we have our own legislatures, designed by us, and we break from the political influence of Parliament what bond do we have to England except a King who in every conflict has sided against us? What loyalty do we have to a monarch who has no love or loyalty for us? If we are going to break free, why not break free and be truly independent?”

“With what government? What forms or systems do we have in place that could replace not only parliament but the King as well? We would be in a state of anarchy and how could we possibly even begin to win a war for Independence, and make no mistake, a war it would be, while in a state of anarchy?”

“There are already discussions,” the young man replied. “I recently read a document by John Adams,” here Adams took the opportunity to preen back at Ben and even go so far as to stick out his tongue. “His thoughts on government give us a great place to start. He identifies some of the Republics in history which we can learn from, both in what to emulate and what to avoid. Hold just a moment.”

The young man then rummaged around inside his jacket and pulled from it a tattered and worn document. He carefully opened the pages and found what he was looking for. “He worries about a single assembly and even points out a few of the problems . He says a representation of the people in one assembly being obtained, a question arises whether all the powers of government, legislative, executive and judicial shall be left in this body. He then says that a people cannot be long free, nor ever happy, whose government is in one Assembly. My favorite points that he makes are that a single assembly is liable to all the vices, follies and frailties of an individual. In essence, to summarize what he says, a single assembly is apt to act hastily, stupidly and with prejudice. The next is quite insightful saying that the single assembly is apt to be avaricious and in time will not scruple to exempt itself from burthens which it will lay, without compunction, on its constituents.” The young man flipped the paper closed as this point and then said with a grin, “But even with powers in different assemblies, it is still a possibility that they will exempt themselves from what they impose upon us. Yet should that ever happen I would hope that the people would rise up in protest and be better met by their elected officials than they are by a parliament on the other side of an ocean.”

The older man nodded emphatically at this. “It would be a sad day for the people if their elected officials treated them with the same disregard as Parliament currently treats us. I pray that such a day never comes in this great land whether we are an independent nation or simply independent of Parliament.”

“I trust in our leaders,” the young man claimed. “I trust in them to provide for us a form of government that, while adhered to, would prevent such injustice as we’ve experienced. The current tyrannical rule will be fresh on their minds and they must know what we must be protected from. How then could they institute a government which would allow the very oppressions from which we now seek our freedom?”

These words of the people, their hopes and assertions, would have had an effect on a man with a lesser ego, but the president refused to feel shame at what our government had become. He continued to see his plans to transform the nation as a salvation and not a destruction. He was also absolutely convinced that the people would never rise up in protest against him. He would make sure of it in a way that King George III had been unable to.

The ghosts said not a word to interrupt his thoughts, but simply grabbed him by the arms and transported him once more.



The president was taken through the drafting of the Declaration of Independence including the exclusion of the abolition of slavery that was in Jefferson’s original document. Both Adams and Franklin lamented over its loss but acknowledged that it had to be done in order to achieve the union of all states, but they took great pleasure in pointing out to the president how the Declaration used specific examples of their objections and that the examples were actually true. Something the president’s own examples to promote his agenda were often lacking.

They took him through the drafting of the Articles of Confederation and showed him via several stops the problems with the document and with a weak federal government. They stressed to him the problems that arise when you create legislation out of a sense of urgency and without fully analyzing the impact, the most important issue the failure of the states to fund the fighting men as they had been designated. They showed that the defense of the nation and the ability to make treaties binding all 13 states was the main reason that the articles were ineffective.

They showed him the debate over public funding of religion and the reasons behind their stance against it. They had him standing over Thomas Jefferson’s shoulder as he wrote the Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom where he stated that all men shall be free to profess, and by argument to maintain, their opinion in matters of religion, and that the same shall in no way diminish, enlarge or affect their civil capacities.

They took him through the months of debates and discussions over the new Constitution, showing him how the open debate and the opinions of many helped them piece together the government which had held us in good stead for over 200 years. They showed him the objections to the Constituion; the statements that there were two sorts of bad government. That which does too little, and that which does too much. That which fails through weakness and that which destroys through oppression. The discussion over how the states should be represented to insure that neither the small ruled the large or the large ruled the small. The compromise that resulted in the House of Representatives being based on population while in the Senate each state had an equal voice. They showed him the fear of some that the government would result in a monarchy or an aristocracy at which point Franklin stated, “I really hate that those damned men were right about the aristocracy.”

The president was exhausted, his brain nearly saturated, and sure that this must come to an end soon. He gazed at his watch repeatedly, sure that he was missing his next appointments and quite possibly his own State of the Union speech, but the hands of time never moved; not a single second had ticked by.

“Enough,” the president said. “I’ve seen enough. I’m a busy man and I need to return. I believe you’ve made your point.”

“Have we,” Adams asked. “Have we really?” The two ghosts stood side by side and faced the current president. “So you understand how the country was built and will stop trying to circumvent the people to force your agenda upon them?”

“I told you,” the president said, “they elected me and this is what they want.”

“So we haven’t showed you enough then. We didn’t really believe we had. There is a very important series of occurrences that you need to see.”

If you enjoy the story please share it.  The next installment will be Wednesday, Jan 13th

References:
Documents:  Book  Founding America Documents From the Revolution to the Bill of Rights
Patrick Henry's speech:  http://libertyonline.hypermall.com/henry-liberty.html

Anti-Federalism as American as Apple Pie

The idea of the Constitution was not universallly loved by all colonists.  Indeed, many expressed a fear that the proposed federal government would take over all the powers of the state and were a recipe for tyranny.  Although it didn't happen immediately, their concerns appear to have been validated in the last century or so.  Those silly anti-federalists.

In the very first Letter From A Federal Farmer we see how the objections then, mirror the objections to the form our government has taken now.

"They will urge a thousand pretences to answer their puposes on both sides.  When we want a man to change his condition, we describe it as miserable, wretched, and despised:  and draw a pleasing picture of that which we would have him assume.  And when we wish the contrary, we reverse our descriptions.  Whenever a clamor is raised, and idle men ge to work, it is highly necessary to examine facts carefully, and without unreasonably suspecting men of falsehood, to examine, and enquire attentively, under what impressions they act.  It is too often the case in political concerns, that men state facts not as they are, but as they wish them to be; and almost every man, by calling to mind past scenes, will find this to be true."

"It is natural for men, who wish to hasten the adoption of a measure, to tell us, now is the crisis -- now is the critical moment which must be seized, or all will be lost:  and to shut the door against free enquiry, whenever conscious the thing presented has defects in it, which time and investigation will probably discover.  This has been the custom of tyrants and their dependants in all ages  If it is true, what has been so often said, that the people of this country cannot change their condition for the worse, I presume it still behoves them to endeavour deliberately to change it for the better.  The fickle and ardent, in any community, are the proper tools for establishing despotic government."

The constant call that there is a crisis and that it must be done now and without debate is nothing but tyranny, and that being true, are we now a free people living in liberty, or slaves to a tyrannical regime?  I believe you know my answer to that question.

Fearing for my Nation

On the campaign trail Michele Obama said that for the first time in her life, she was proud of her country.  Well Shelly, for the first time in my life I am afraid for my country.  Though in the past I have worried over the direction we were headed and concerned over actions that were taken, I am now truly afraid of what is going to happen, not just in, but to my country.

In the past I could always console myself with the belief that we could vote the bums out of office, but that no longer grants me solace.  I find no peace in that belief when the politicians will tell people what they want to hear during the campaign, vote against the people to advance their own agenda, and then retire before facing the wrath of the people during the next voting process.  When the politicians waste money that we don't have on things we don't need in order to advance their own purposes.  When those who are supposed to represent the people put the advancement of their own power over the advancement of the people they represent or the nation as a whole.  When the shiny new candidate to represent you is nothing but a whitewashed version of the politician you're desperate to remove.  When politicians laugh when asked about the constitutionality of their legislation; something that should not be funny to anybody.  When politicians interpret The Constitution to support their legislation instead of writing their legislation to support The Constitution.

How can I take comfort in a right to vote when the vast majority of those who run to replace the current bums are naught but bums themselves?

My America is being fundamentally transformed around me and what can I do to stop it when my voice -- the one tool I have and what was supposed to be the final check of government -- falls on deaf ears?

As I research the founding of this great nation I find so many similarities between what drove the colonists to revolution and what our government is doing to us now and I fear that soon the only option we will have open to us is a new revolution.  I am afraid of what will happen to this nation in either case.

Now the only solace I find is that God has a plan that I don't yet understand and that His plan will save us.  I pray for this every day.

Is it any wonder that for the first time in my life I am truly, deeply and legitimately afraid for the fate of my nation?

The Founding Fathers on Special Interests

That we have strayed far from the intetion of our government is a belief, if not universally acknowledged, is widely held.  Our current government wishes to impose taxes and onerous legislation on the majority in order to feed the minority, or special interest groups. 

What did our founding fathers think of this type of practice you might ask.  Never fear, my 639 page book Founding America Documents from the Revolution to the Bill of Rights has the answer.

The leaders of Pennsylvania in December of 1776 wrote "A Declaration of the Rights of the Inhabitants of the Common Wealth, or State of Pennsylvania."  Article V of that declaration answers the question on special interest groups and doing things such as bankrupting the nation to accomodate 0.4% of the population such as the uninsured.

That government is, or ought to be, instituted for the common benefit, protection and security of the people, nation or community; and not for the particular emolument or advantage of any single man, family or set of men, who are a part only of that community.

Sounds to me like nothing that only benefits 0.4% of the population should be forced upon the other 99.6% of the population.

James Madison - Statesman and Prophet?

James Madison may have seen the coming of the progressive Messiah.  In his statements on Vices of the Political System of the United States as he worked to reform the Articles of Confederation, James Madison showed prophetic insight.

Here is some of what Madison said.

Representative appointments are sought from 3 motives.  1) Ambition.  2) Personal interest.  3) Public good.  Unhappily the two first are proved by experience to be most prevalent.  Hence the candidates who feel them, particularly the seond, are most industrious and most successful in pursuing their object:  and forming often a majority in the legislative councils, with interested views, contrary to the interest and views of their constituents, join in a perfidious sacrifice of the latter to the former.

A succeeding election it might be supposed, would displace the offenders and repair the misschief.  But how easily are base and selfish measures, masked by pretexts of public good and apparent expediency?  How frequentlly will a repetition of the same arts and industry which succeeded in the first instance, again prevail on the unwarry to misplace their confidence?

How frequently too will the honest but unenlightened representative be the dupe of a favorite leader, veiling his selfish views under the professions of public good, and varnishing his sophistical arguments with the glowing colors of popular eloquence?

Gee, that last bit really sounds prophetic to me.

A State of the Union Carole - Chapter 2

Please go here http://spinsterpov.blogspot.com/2009/12/state-of-union-carole-chapter-1.html for chapter 1.

Chapter 2


The president sat nervously behind his desk in the oval office and watched the clock tick the seconds away. He had debated on whether or not to retire to his room, but did not wish to disturb his wife should his delusions persist. And he especially did not want her disturbed if what had occurred was not a delusion. She did not like being disturbed.

His eyes became heavy as the time slowly passed and the urgent work on his desk remained undone. Eventually, the lack of sleep and stress of the day pressed upon him and his head came to rest on the resolute desk. In the space of a moment, soft snores began emanating from his mouth. It was in this repose that his visitors found him.

The president was jolted awake by a slap on the back of his head and nearly squealed like a teenage girl at a Jonas Brothers concert as he took in the sight before him. Unlike the ghost of Roosevelt, these men were fully formed, not translucent and gray, and obviously solid enough to make a smack felt.

The president pushed himself into a full seated position, shook his head to remove any remaining cobwebs from his nap and stared at the men before him. This is not what he had expected; not at all.

Before him stood two aged gentlemen; both were heavy in the midsection with slightly sagging jowells and male pattern baldness to varying degrees, but there the similarity ended. One had bright eyes over a prominent nose and was dressed in an imbecably cut dark blue suit that could easily have been an Armani. The other had deep set hooded eyes and thin lips -- which were currently pressed tight in disapproval -- and was sporting a pair of faded Levi’s, boots and a t-shirt that read “Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.”

As the president stared in stupefied silence, neither man so much as cracked a smile, and as the silence stretched beyond the limits of what was comfortable, the president found himself asking a fairly stupid question. “Who are you?”

The man in the suit looked at the other man and rolled his eyes. “Well, we were warned I suppose.” Then turning back to the president he continued, “You know who we are and why we are here. Our appearance to you was foretold.”

“No,” the president shook his head in denial, “you’re not the founding fathers. You can’t be.”

“And why pray tell,” asked the jeans clad spirit, “is that?”

“You’re not ghosts. At least not like the other. You can’t be spirits.”

The first spirit smoothed his suit, pulling the sleeves straight and brushing imaginary lint from his lapel. “Full solidification of the astral body is a benefit of sitting at the good table. We have many benefits that those who turned free men into slaves have been denied.”

The president opened his mouth to ask more questions, questions that he desperately needed the answers to, but he was prevented from speaking. Not only by the interruption of the man in jeans, but because his vocal cords no longer appeared to work.

“Silencing you is another benefit. And one that we will probably make liberal use of.” He sank into a deep and courtly bow saying, “Benjamin Franklin, printer, inventor, philosopher and statesman at your service.”

The man in the suit smiled ruefully at Ben, and said, “Normally we are vehemently opposed to bowing to any leader, but since you seem so fond of it yourself we thought we’d humor you.” Sinking into a bow even lower than his partner’s he continued, “John Adams, Second President of the United States.”

This couldn’t be real, the president thought to himself. There was no way that John Adams and Ben Franklin were standing in his office dressed as they were. This couldn’t be happening. He was losing his mind. He was increasingly convinced that this was the case and he was momentarily preoccupied with thoughts of how to hide it. He couldn’t be relieved of his tenure due to insanity; what would happen to his agenda and the country if the moron he had as a vice president was to take over the leadership of the nation. He shuddered to think of the impact of such a situation.

“Stay with us boy!” Adams barked. “Day dream on your own time. We have things to show you and hopefully you’ll learn a thing or two.”

Indignant at this speech, the president stood to his full height and looked down his nose at the men before him. “Do not speak to me that way and do not call me boy.”

“I’ll speak to you any way I see fit and I’ll call you whatever I like, boy.”

“I find that form of address offensive so you will stop it now.”

“Look boy, I’m two hundred and seventy-four years old; six times your age, so you’re a boy to me until you can prove you’re a man. Demanding you not be offended does not make you a man in my eyes, it makes you a pansy ass whiner.”

“It’s that damn political correctness thing they’ve been instituting,” Franklin chimed in. Hands on his hips he strode forward to stand toe to toe with the current president. “Where did you nit wits ever get the idea that you have a right not to be offended? We are going to tell you a lot of things on this trip that you won’t like to hear, but often it is those things we don’t want to hear that we need the most to be told. You’ll get an education in what this country is at its heart and soul regardless of what you want to make it into.”

“I already know what I need to. I was educated at Harvard you know.”

Adams rolled his eyes at Franklin again, but it was Ben who replied. “I only made it two years in grammar school but I still know way more than you do about nearly everything. A fancy degree doesn’t mean a thing if you didn’t learn how to really think. And the one thing you’re definitely missing is the ability to think for yourself. What you’ve done to the education system is a travesty. The children of this country should be taught how to think, not what to think, and you’re living proof of that failure. But if it makes you feel better, I have honorary degrees from St Andrews and Oxford, both of which have been around a Hell of a lot longer than Harvard.”

“How dare you!”

“How dare we?” bellowed Adams. “You’re working to systematically dismantle everything we devoted our lives to building and you ask how we dare?” John took several deep breaths, more for the calm than the oxygen that his astral body did not require. “Enough talking, it’s time to show the man the creation of this union he’s so anxious to tear down and defile.”

A look was exchanged between the two visiting ghosts and then each grabbed one of the president’s hands. The room went black and then flashes of images and sounds began to whiz by as they spun and spun and spun through time. Just as the president feared he would lose his dignity along with his dinner, they came to rest on a cobbled lane outside of what looked at first glance to be a church. It was made of brick with a tall spire and arched windows. The sun was low in the sky but had not yet set and the building appeared to be filled with people. So filled that the masses spilled out into the street and the traveling trio had landed on the outskirts of the crowd.

“Where are we?” the president asked.

John Adams looked around, a nostalgic smile spreading across his face. “Boston, December 16, 1773 at the Old South Meeting House. The oppressions of the Stamp Act, the declaration of parliament that they can enact laws binding us in all cases whatsoever, the Townshend duties, the proposal to give our governors royal salaries thereby buying their loyalties and the final straw of the monopoly granted to the East India Tea Company are about to come to a head.”

“It wasn’t enough that they put that heavy tax on the tea, but they had to grant the monopoly to a company to keep it from bankruptcy,” said Ben Franklin. He leveled a heavy stare at the current president and said, “I believe that it’s what you now refer to as a corporate bailout.”

The president’s jaw clenched at this statement but he gave no other indication of his displeasure with this comparison. “Are you telling me we’re at the Boston Tea Party?”

“The final meeting for it,” said Adams. “The idea was to prevent the tea from being unloaded and thereby eliminating any duty to be paid on it. The other cargo had already been unloaded but they were waiting for the tea. In the other harbors the ships set back out to sea without unloading the tea, but whether or not that will happen here is still unsure.” Here he gestured with his arm and asked, “shall we go inside?”

“Can these people see us?” the president asked. The way his eyes shifted through the crowd and the death grip he held on the sleeve of Adam’s jacket indicated his nervousness and fear.

Adams smiled, “No. We’re aren’t really here. We are merely shadows watching an echo. Nobody you run across while with one of we ghosts will be able to see or hear you. Now please, let us go inside.”

The room was packed full of people, a full seven thousand reported to have attended. Anxieties were high as the people awaited word of whether the ships would leave the harbor with their tea still aboard or, despite the will of the people, unload the tea forcing a duty upon them.

“That man leading the ceremony,” Adams pointed, “That is Samuel Savage. They’ve ordered Mr. Rotch, the ship’s owner, to apply for clearance for his ship to sail without unloading the tea. They’re waiting now to see what happens but it doesn’t look good. The Governor is not on the side of the people and it is he who must grant approval to sail as the customs officers have already refused their assent.”

At that moment Samuel Savage spoke. “In case the governor shall refuse his permission, will you abide by your former resolutions with respect to not suffering the tea to be landed?”

A series of speakers answered this question, many in the affirmative, as the sun began to set. They had been pushed too far and were taking a stand against the British Parliament, but the men did not take this decision lightly. One man, a young lawyer by the name of Josiah Quincy reminded them all of the importance of their decision. “It is not the spirit within these walls that must stand us in stead. The exertions of this day will call forth events which will make a very different spirit necessary for our salvation. Let us consider the issue. Let us look to the end. Let us weigh and consider, before we advance to those measures which must bring on the most trying and terrible struggle this country ever saw.”

Franklin clapped his hand on Adams’ shoulder, his heavy face now lit by the glow of the candles which were the only source of illumination within the crowded building. “This really is exciting. I’m sorry I missed it the first time around. It is great to finally stand here at the true beginning of the American Revolution.”

“This may be the first real declarative statement by the people, but the revolution began long ago in the hearts and minds of the people. Revolutions always begin long before they make themselves known to those prompting the revolt,” replied Adams.

The president was only half listening to the byplay between his guides. His attention was primarily fixed upon the meeting before him and the assertions by the attendees that they would, indeed, prevent the tea from being landed. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. That a mob of people would actually openly plan to destroy somebody’s private property in blatant defiance of the government was astounding and a stance he strongly disapproved of.

Tensions continued to escalate as they awaited the return of Mr. Rotch. When the merchant arrived, he made his way through the crowds and announced that his request to set sail without the tea being landed had been refused by the governor.

A low rumbling went through the crowd at this statement, but before it could rise to a full roar it was silenced by the voice of Samuel Adams saying, “This meeting can do no more to save the country.” The debate was over. They had already made their decision on what would be done if this circumstance arose, now all that remained was to execute the resolution they had decided upon.

So engrossed in this exchange was the president that he near jumped out of his skin when a war cry echoed through the chamber. Seeking the source of the cry, the president found a man in the gallery with his face painted and dressed as a Mohawk. His cry was echoed by those outside and around the doorway and then another voice could be heard above the din. This voice cried, “Boston harbor a tea-pot tonight! Hurrah for Griffin’s Wharf!”

At this statement the building began to clear and the trio was carried with the movement of the masses. It could not really be called a mob since they were not out of control, but they did have a mission that would be fulfilled. There were a group of men in a similar disguise to the man in the galley who were leading the way to the wharf, and the organizers, anticipating such an occurrence and the need to keep order, had gone so far as to appoint guards. As the trio passed by them, Adams tapped the president on the shoulder and pointed at a guard saying simply, “John Hancock.”

They arrived at the wharf where the three ships were boarded by the disguised men and even some men who were not disguised. The masses of people assembled on the dock to watch and what amazed the president was that there was no violence; no shouting. The crowd was not riled up, but somber and calm. Fully aware that they were watching an historic event and one that would change their situation forever. They were making a statement which they believed needed to be made. The statement that they would not meekly submit to tyrannical rule. What he couldn’t understand was why a people would resort to such acts instead of relying on diplomacy. It was shameful really, he thought to himself. As he had studied the tea party in school he had always believed their acts to be disrespectful and criminal, a thought that viewing it first hand was not changing.

The trio stood on the wharf for the whole event and remained as the people began to dispurse with nothing harmed but the tea. As the president moved to follow, his hands were again taken by his companions. This time they did not travel but remained at the wharf while images flashed around them. When it stabilized again it was a different scene. The wharf was nearly empty as Parliament had forbidden any cargo but food and firewood from being unloaded, and there were British troops now patrolling the streets. The lives of the people of Boston had been changed. The whole now lived in fear and poverty brought on by government retaliation for the acts of a few. Since Parliament had not known who to punish, they had punished everyone.

Benjamin Franklin shook his head in dismay. “I tried to tell them that they were handling things badly.”

The president’s eyes opened wide in shock at this statement. “You tried to stop the Boston Tea Party?”

“Of course not you imbecile. I tried to tell the British Parliament and the people that what they were doing to the colonies was not right, but they wouldn’t listen. Instead of listening to the concerns of the colonists they just pushed harder. I heard the London perspective on this event and it had little to do with the facts. The colonists were seen as thugs and criminals, the destruction the result of an angry mob. They refused to see that with every law they passed to bring the colonists under their control, they just pushed the colonists closer to revolution.” Here he looked the president in the eye with brows raised and said, “I’m sure you’ve read my publication ‘Rules Whereby a Great Empire May Be Reduced to a Small One’ as you appear to be running the list of rules with gratifying speed.”

Before the president could respond, John Adams interrupted with a snort. “I believe he’s following the Rules for Radicals publication more than yours, although the outcome is the same.”

The president glared at Adams who simply smiled in response. “I am sure that I have read your publication, but I can’t recall it at the moment.”

“Old Ben loved to use sarcasm and humor in his publications. Made them an entertaining read, I’ll grant you, but as a colonial his opinions mattered little to the British subjects who viewed us as second class citizens if they considered us citizens at all. Most didn’t really consider us British so it was perfectly acceptable to take from us to give to the real British subjects. A redistribution of our wealth I believe you would say now. A redistribution to which we were strongly, even vehemently opposed.”

“Wait a minute,” the president said as he turned back to Ben Franklin. “You were in England during all of this? You weren’t even here and yet you feel qualified to educate me on what happened?”

“Of course I wasn’t here. I was pleading the case of the colonies in England. Where did you learn your American history boy? Indonesia?” The president clamped his lips closed at this one but it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d tried to speak. Ben was on a roll and he wasn’t ready to yield the floor. “We were trying to work things out, attempting diplomacy, and sought to show Parliament the error in their thinking. That’s what my publication was all about. It was to illustrate to them how their actions were serving to alienate the colonies instead of drawing them closer. It included imposing severer laws on the colonies than those in Britain. It included the constant assumption by Parliament that, no matter how submissive the colonies have been, they always be treated as if they are on the verge of revolting. It included designating wastrels as our leaders.”

Familiar with Ben’s tirades, John Adams felt no compunction over interrupting at this point. “Imagine if you will in your current time, if tax cheats were appointed to the treasury, criminals to cabinet positions and Marxists were given power over the economy. That is just the thing to rile up the masses and reduce the greatness of the nation.”

Ben grinned and nodded emphatically at this. “A perfect example, John. And let’s not forget telling the people that all of their money belongs first to the government and that if they object over one dollar being taken out of ten that you remind them that you can take the other nine if you so choose. Then of course you must waste that money that you take from them so greedily and use it to pay your government officials a salary that will keep them in a luxury far above that of those whose sweat and blood paid for it.”

“If I may,” Adams interrupted again and, at a nod from Franklin continued. “My favorite of all of these, and the one most pertinent to what we have witnessed I have committed to memory. It reads … If you are told of Discontents in your colonies, never believe that they are general, or that you have given occasion for them; therefore do not think of applying any remedy, or of changing any offensive measure.” Adams gave a moment for this to sink in and then continued, “I believe you’ve condensed this thought into one word. Astroturf. Isn’t that how you refer to any discontents or protestations of the people?”

“Neither of you know what you’re talking about,” the president stated while staring down his nose at them in his typical manner.

“Of course we don’t,” Adams replied. “I’m sure it is simply coincidence that peaceful protestors are referred to as an angry mob, that their numbers are criminally underestimated and that their protests legitimacy is continually called into question.” When the president remained mute in the face of this statement, Adams simply stated, “I thought as much.”

“So are we done? Are you taking me back now?”

Adams and Franklin both laughed but it was Adams who spoke. “Don’t be stupid boy, we’ve only just begun.” The men grabbed the president’s hands and once again they went swirling through time.

Chapter 3 will be posted Monday, January 11th.

Resources:
Boston Tea Party - http://www.boston-tea-party.org/
Book - Founding America Documents From the Revolution to the Bill of Rights

A State of the Union Carole - Chapter 1

"A State of the Union Carole"

Chapter 1
As the room dimmed from the waning light of the setting sun, the man pushed aside the pile of papers awaiting his attention to run his hand lovingly over the surface of his desk. A desk where many great men had performed their business, and he was sure that he would be considered a great man one day as well. In fact he was sure he was considered a great man already. There was no question in his mind that his place in history would be assured. The wood of the historic desk he stroked seemed to glow as the golden light was filtered through the panes of glass at his back. If he believed in God he would see this as a sign of his ordination, but he did not believe. Not really. He pretended to believe because he knew it would cast him in a better light, but the only god he served was his own ego, and it was a jealous god.


His hand bumped the paper on his desk again and he was reminded of the task before him. He retrieved the stack of papers and a red pen and set his self-admiration aside for a moment in order to turn his mind to the task at hand. His lips pursed as he found a particular phrase objectionable and scratched a line through it. In the margins he scribbled in the message he wanted it replaced with. Nearly an hour later the paper bore more red ink than black and the man’s temper was on a fine edge. Setting the pen aside he reached for the phone and called in the unfortunate author of the harshly edited document.

He waited impatiently for the young and idealistic man to appear before him. When the door opened and the once smartly dressed but now decidedly rumpled man appeared at last, taking his stance in the center of the crest imprinted on the carpet in the oval office, The President raised an angry stare in his direction, pushed the pages towards the young man and said, “Is this the best you can do? With all of the changes I made I may as well have written the speech myself. What do I pay you for?”

“I’m sorry sir,” the young man stammered. Having always had a flair for words and a true belief in the progressive ideals, John Alexander had been thrilled to be offered a job as the Presidential speech writer. It was an honor beyond anything he’d ever thought possible, but now, just six months into the job he believed he’d prefer digging ditches. No matter what he wrote, no matter how eloquent or uplifting, it was never good enough. Every speech was written and re-written and then written again. Many times the final comments by the President strongly resembling John’s original text. He no longer felt young and idealistic but beaten down, demoralized and old beyond his years. He had an ulcer, insomnia, a nervous tick and an ever growing desire to stab the president with his fountain pen.

“I have to give this speech tomorrow evening so I expect to have a new version of this on my desk before sunrise tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?”

John swallowed and nodded, but seeing the raised brows of the president remembered his instructions on address. “Yes, Mr President.”

The President stared at the door as it closed behind the hapless young man who had proved to be such a disappointment. A good speech writer was invaluable to a man of his elevated stature, and he needed some time to review the speech before he had to stand in the full House of Representatives and read the speech before the joint houses of Congress. He could read off the teleprompter with a skill and ease that few people possessed, but it helped to feel at least a little comfortable with the text. He already received a bit of flack from those nasty right wing zealots regarding the way he looked down his nose when he spoke, but it was the only way he could read the teleprompter and keep his head up. And everybody knew those crazies on the right were just looking for something bad to say about him, but he had his revenge. He worked in a way to blame them in nearly every speech and, though he had done interviews with Oprah and The View, he still refused to appear on that “other” network. The one he refused to acknowledge as a news program.

He returned to the papers on his desk and worked his way to the bottom of the pile where the communication from his general in Afghanistan resided. He took a deep breath and did what he’d been avoiding for nearly two weeks. He flipped the folder open.

“It’s about time you got to that.”

The President jerked in surprise at the sound of the voice. He jerked so hard that he flipped his chair back, lost his balance, over-recovered and smacked his head on the beautiful desk he’d been stroking just hours before.

At the sound of the ruckus the secret service burst through the door with guns drawn and searched for the source of the threat. “What happened Mr. President? Are you secure?”

Shaking his head slightly, refusing to reveal any weakness, he frowned at the men before him. “Secure? Did you not hear that voice? Where did it come from and how did the speaker get in here?”

The two men glanced at each other for support, but neither indicated that any voice had been heard. “I’m sorry sir, but we didn’t hear a voice, we only heard what sounded like a struggle. Was there a struggle sir?”

The men still stood with their guns drawn, and guns made the president nervous. So nervous that he had promised himself that guns would be outlawed before the end of his second term. That he would have a second term he had no doubt. With the machinations he had going on, he knew that even a third or a fourth term would be possible. He would serve longer than the man he believed to be the greatest President of all time; Franklin Roosevelt. He had ensured, while he was in the senate, that the necessary laws to prevent an economic disaster were not passed so that he could set up a platform which would put him on the level of Roosevelt. He was running the FDR playbook and he was absolutely convinced that he was running it better than old Frank had himself.

“Sir?”

In his ruminations, the president had all but forgotten the men in the room. “No, there was no struggle. But there was a voice. Somebody is here.”

“They can’t hear me,” came the voice again.

“There!” The president cried. “There it was again. Did you hear it?”

“No sir,” the agent replied. A well trained secret service agent, his face betrayed none of his feelings. He valued his job way too much to show with even a twitch that the President was sounding crazy. Maybe the president was just having an acid flashback. He had done drugs in his past after all. Wasn’t that in one of those books he wrote before he had ever accomplished anything?

“They think you’re losing your mind you know.”

The President looked closely at the agents, but neither gave the slightest hint that they’d heard the new voice. If he answered it this time there was a good chance that the voice would be right and the agents would fear for his sanity.

“I’m fine,” the President said. “You men can go now.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure.” The President waved his hand dismissively. “I’m sure it was just the wind that startled me. I didn’t sleep well last night so I’m sure that didn’t help.” He really hated indicating any weakness, but far better lack of sleep than insanity.

The agents holstered their weapons, cast one last glance around the office and strode back through the door to resume their guard.

“It’s the bump on the head,” the president said to himself. “I’m sure it’s just the bump on the head causing hallucinations and they’ll go away in a minute or two.”

“That would work as an explanation,” continued the voice, “except hearing the voice is why you bumped your head. The bump is an effect not a cause. I know you have some trouble with that kind of logic and science but give it a try.”

“Who the hell are you,” he whispered angrily. “I demand you show yourself.”

“OK, you asked for it.”

Before the President’s eyes a thin mist appeared, and then thickened, and then began to take shape. In the space of a single minute, empty air solidified into the form of a man. It was not a man, but only the opaque image of a man. Cast in shades of gray and moderately transparent. The President wondered how this was done and whether it was a new trick from the crazies on the right -- And they wondered why he had them listed as potential terrorists with the Department of Homeland Security.

The milky image of the man stood about two inches shorter than his own six feet and one inch. His hair was slicked back in a style of previous generations. His hooded eyes were crowned with thick brows and ringed with deep lines. His thin lipped mouth was quirked to one side in a crooked smile as he held his arms out in a “ta-da” type of gesture.

“Who are you?” The president asked.

“The man you want to be. Or perhaps the man you want to be better than. Though I’ve learned that’s not hard to accomplish.”

“I don’t understand,” the president replied. “Who are you really? And what are you doing in my office?”

“It was my office too once, though this desk wasn’t in here at the time. It was still up in the study.” The image crouched down before the desk to examine it, his smile one of nostalgia over a pleasant memory. “I see they finally put in the panel over the kneehole with the presidential seal. That was my idea you know.”

“Who gives a shit! Who are you? I demand that you reveal your identity to me immediately.”

“Or what,” the image asked. “You’ll call the secret service in to haul me off. I dare you to try that.”

Frustrated beyond belief at being the most powerful man in the world and yet having no authority over the image before him, the President’s political façade had slipped and the real man underneath the mask was beginning to show. His fists and jaw were clenched as he asked yet again, “who are you?”

Instead of revealing his identity, the man only asked, “How much do you know about this desk?”

Fearing what it said about his sanity to not only engage in a verbal battle, but to lose one, with an imaginary man in his office, he decided to just answer the question. “The desk was commissioned by Queen Victoria from the wreckage of the HMS Resolute. She has a matching one in her office.”

The image waved his hand dismissively. “Anybody who saw the second National Treasure movie could tell me that. Do you have any information that is not held by the average movie goer?”

The President just stared mutely at the image before him.

“This leads nicely into the reason I’m here. How can you presume to be the leader of a nation you know nothing about?”

“I know what I need to about this nation. Which is why I’m working to remake it.”

The image shook its head in sadness. “Bad move my boy, bad move. I attempted the same thing and faced a terrible fate for it. I wish to save you from facing the same shame and embarrassment.”

“What shame,” the president asked. “What shame can there be in remaking this nation into what it should be?”

“It’s the shame of making this nation into what it was never supposed to be. I found that out the hard way. “ The image moved gracefully across the room until it settled behind the resolute desk, its hands hovering over the wood in much the same way the president’s had just hours before.

“When I got to heaven—“, at the gasp, the image looked at the president and grinned. “Yes, heaven exists, as does God. When I got to heaven I was excited to meet the founding fathers of this great nation, and I found they were anxious to meet me as well, but instead of being greeted warmly, I was faced with their censure and dismay. In addition to a verbal tongue lashing the likes of which I had never faced on earth.”

“I can’t imagine what you could have done to deserve that, but what difference does it make? They’re just a bunch of dead white guys who have become totally irrelevant. Their opinions no longer matter.”

The image lurched up and attempted to slap his hands on the desk, but instead of meeting the wood with a resounding bang, they slid right through it. “Those men may be dead but their ideals will never be irrelevant. It was just that kind of thought that got me exiled in heaven and the type of thought you must change if you are ever to be welcomed into their group.”

The president locked his spine to prevent the shudder that racked him as the image floated to him once more from showing. “Why would I want to be welcomed into their group? Why should I care what they think?”

“You really are a misguided young man, aren’t you?” Failing to receive an answer the image continued. “In heaven the leaders of this nation are divided into two categories, those would made free men of slaves, and those who made slaves of free men. What I was shocked to find upon my death was that I was considered a man who had made slaves of free men.”

The president threw his head back and looked down his nose at the image before him. “I will definitely be regarded as a man who made free men of slaves. I’m going to dispense economic justice in this land and free those in poverty.”

The image’s jaw dropped in shock at this statement. “Do you honestly believe that I would be here to warn you if you were viewed in that manner? Right now they’re reserving the head of the free men to slaves table. They already have a plaque on the chair for you. You’re the first president they’ve ever placed before his death.”

“That’s not possible.” He shook his head vehemently, but the image just kept nodding.

“Where is George Bush sitting?”

The image’s brows pulled down in confusion. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Is George Bush sitting at the good table or the bad table? He has to be at the bad table.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m absolutely serious. Which table is Bush sitting at?”

The image rolled its eyes, an eerie occurrence with his level of transparency. “If I had to guess, I would have to say he’s sitting at a table at his ranch in Crawford, TX.”

The president looked dissatisfied and slightly confused by this answer.

“The man’s not dead yet. Not much for deductive reasoning are you?” the image asked.

“Don’t speak to me in that insolent manner. I’m the leader of this nation and I deserve your respect.”

“I respect the office, but not the man currently holding it. And your current behavior does not dispose me to change that opinion.”

Now truly angry, a vein bulging in his temple, his fists clenched so tightly they were cramping, the president growled, “I demand to know who you are.”

The image raised his brows at the insolent tone. “If you knew anything at all about the desk behind which you sit then you would already know who I am. I’ve given a hint so obvious that previous presidents would have no doubt as to my identity.” The image leveled an assessing stare upon him and, after a moment’s silence continued. “I suppose I can give you another hint. I hate to do this one though as it is so obvious. Too obvious really.”

The president unclenched one fist and slashed the hand through the image causing it to dissipate and then reform. This couldn’t be real. It was too little sleep. The excuse he gave the secret service had to be the real reason behind this. He couldn’t actually have a ghost in the oval office. It was completely beyond the realm of possibility.

“Forget about it, I don’t care who you are anymore. You’re probably nothing but a figment of my imagination anyway.”

“OK, if you’re going to be a baby about it, here’s my hint. A date which will live in infamy. If you don’t know who I am now then you really have no business being behind that desk.”

“No,” the president shook his head vehemently. “It’s not possible. You can’t be….”

“Can’t be who?” the image asked.

“You’re not Franklin Roosevelt. You’re not. You can’t be. I know for a fact you’re not.”

“Do you really? What’s your proof that I’m not?”

“Roosevelt was in a wheelchair!” This statement was delivered with such pride, such self-satisfied victory that the image had to shake his head once more.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I appear to you out of thin air, admitting that I’m the ghost of a dead man, and you actually believe I can’t be that ghost because my astral body isn’t confined to a wheelchair as my physical body was? That’s really your argument?”

“Well…..”

“Not much for abstract reasoning either.”

“OK,” he shrugged, “But I still don’t understand.”

The image placed his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes. “That’s becoming glaringly obvious. But which particular thing that you don’t understand would you like an explanation for?”

The president started pacing around the oval office, still aware of the secret service outside the door, he kept his voice low. The ghost of Roosevelt didn’t appear to have any trouble hearing him no matter how low he spoke.

“The one thing I don’t understand,” he heard a snort from Roosevelt but opted to ignore it and continue, “you were the greatest president in our history so why would you be ostrasized by the founding fathers? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Doesn’t it? In retrospect it makes perfect sense to me.” Roosevelt’s voice had dropped and sadness radiated from his expression. Sadness and regret.

“But you lifted this country up out of the worst financial crisis it had ever seen. How can that be a bad thing?”

“Did I really do that?” Roosevelt asked.

“Of course you did. Everybody knows that. Everybody acknowledges that you and your New Deal saved the country from total collapse.” The president couldn’t believe that he was actually in the oval office attempting to convince the ghost of FDR that he had saved the nation.

“The founding fathers have a different view of things, and I have to admit that I now agree with them.” His voice was now filled with the regret only hinted at before. He grasped his hands behind his back, dropped his head, floated over to the window and stared. “I put food on the table for many people by creating government jobs for them to do, but what did I really do to stimulate the economy?” He turned, his gaze boring into the current president. “Nothing. I did nothing. I believed that the government was the answer, but the jobs I created could only last as long as the money the government had to spend. When that money ran out, so would the jobs. Looking back now I have to wonder if I did anything but prolong the pain.”

“Of course you did,” the president replied. “Your government spending plan saved the country and brought the unemployment rate from 25% down to 4%. Nobody but you could have done that.”

“No my boy,” the ghost whispered in reply. “I stabilized the unemployment rate at 14% and that with government jobs only. The war did the rest. Yes, it was government spending but all for the war.” He turned and glared through his opaque eyes at the man before him. “Do you really believe that sending millions of young American men to their death was a great way to lower the unemployment rate, because that’s what I did? I didn’t really create more jobs, I simply sent the excess workers to their deaths on foreign soil. That is not a plan that should be emulated by anyone!”

“You did the right thing,” the president argued. “The government was the only answer for the horrible situation the economy was in and you delivered it. The government is always the answer, it has to be.”

“Does it really? You have so much to learn.” The ghost of Roosevelt sighed and straightened his shoulders. “I suppose this brings me to the reason for my visit.” As the president opened his mouth to argue, he was forstalled by the ghost. “I am but a messenger. I precursor to the real events which you will experience this night. My role is to advise you that you will be visited by six ghosts this night.”

“This sounds familiar,” the president sneered, “but doesn’t the story use three ghosts? Not a very original bunch of founding fathers are they?”

“You will not blaspheme the founding fathers!” roared the ghost.

The president looked over his shoulder in fear, sure that the secret service had to hear the bellow which was so loud that it had rattled the window panes and still rang in his ears, but nobody was bursting through the doors to save him.

The ghost took a deep calming breath, though of course air was not required for this astral body, and spoke in a softer, more moderate manner. “I apologize for my outburst, but the disrespect you show for the men who risked everything to create a form of government you now seek to destroy upsets me greatly. I think it best that I deliver my message before all control is lost and I do something I regret more than my actions as president.”

Kept mute by fear at what this ghost could do, the president clamped his lips closed and nodded his head. He would say not a thing.

“Yes what will happen bears a resemblance to Charles Dickens’ ‘A Christmas Carole’,” Roosevelt stopped at glared at the president, daring him to make a comment. When the president remained silent, Roosevelt clasped his hands behind his back and paced the oval office as he spoke. “Several of the founding fathers hold Dickens in high esteem, and they have learned something you have not. That much can be learned from the actions and ideas of others. Personally I find Dickens a bit maudlin but this story does suit us nicely.” He looked once more to the president and nodded in approval at his continued silence. “The first pair of founding fathers will appear to you at the stroke of midnight and will show you the state of the union past. The next pair will appear as the clock strikes one and will show you the present. The final pair will appear at the stroke of two and will show you the future that awaits both you and the union you currently lead.”

The ghost flew across the floor until it hovered nose to nose with the current president. “If you are wise, which I question greatly, you will listen to what these men tell you and pay close attention to what they show you. Set your ego aside if you can and learn from an encounter that many in this nation would give their lives experience.”

In the blink of an eye, the image was gone. The silence of the room now pervasive, the president returned to his desk and sat, taking deep, calming breaths. This couldn’t have happened. It didn’t happen. He was sure it hadn’t really happened. And yet, he glanced at the clock counting down the minutes until the first pair of ghosts would appear.

To be continued........
The next installment will be Thursday, Jan 7.  If you enjoy the story, please share it.