Babble On
a short story by Biff Price
©2019
Chapter 1
Senator Malcolm “Bull” Mastiff looked like the animal whose nickname he carried. Wealthy because of his family, nevertheless, he cast himself as the champion of the poor and middle class, and his Senate bills and pronouncements endeared him to liberals and progressives in his home state of New York.
When anyone disagreed with him on the Senate chamber floor, in face-to-face confrontations, in election debates and town halls, or simply in the hallway of the Senate office building, he would overwhelm them with a waterfall of rhetoric.
A master of political-speak, he was the darling of 95% of the media. He could orate for hours on the weather, the price of crude oil, what he had for breakfast, his dislike of the current occupant of the Oval Office, the stock market, the need for a new minimum wage, free college tuition, and single-payer healthcare for everyone. It was as if someone had wound up his spring so tightly that when he opened his mouth, he never shut it. The river of effluvium streamed over his opponents with the volume and weight of Niagara Falls, and, glassy-eyed, they finally gave up.
A conservative talk show host once described the “noble” Senator as suffering from diarrhea of the mouth. He took it as a compliment, and then preceded to castigate the host for 20 minutes, apparently without taking a breath.
To his credit, he had done a few good things during his thirty-plus years in the Senate. Another conservative talk show host said that the Senator had probably voted on the so-called “beneficial” things because he had been partying the nights before. He, indeed, loved to party.
Bull Mastiff never saw a drink he didn’t enjoy, or a pretty girl he didn’t flirt with. He thought of himself as an “equal-opportunity” man. If an opportunity presented itself, he would take it.
He was working on his third marriage, had to take high blood pressure medicine, and was actually regarded as a fair-minded man on both sides of the aisle. His children and grand-children respected and loved him, his voters believed he could walk on water, and he, himself, was beginning to wonder if it was time to make way for a younger man—or woman—the world had changed during his years of service, and women now played a very important role in government, in his opinion.
Overall, he was tired of the bickering, back-biting, animosity, and the general idiocy that had crept into politics. While he believed in social programs to benefit those who truly needed them, he did not believe in socialism itself. That was too far a stretch for even him to go.
He appreciated capitalism. Capitalism had made it possible for his forebears to become wealthy, and capitalism had made it possible for him to be in the United States Senate instead of digging ditches or standing on a factory floor.
Plainly, he saw the American system as the best in the world, and he had no intention of undermining it like the new breed of young Turks who were fomenting revolution in university faculty lounges, occupying Wall Street, and screaming for free everything, paid for, well, by people like him and his family. There was a line of demarcation where common sense ended and stupidity began, and he would never cross that line if he could avoid it.
The America of his youth was gone. What Lyndon Johnson had began had now become something he did not recognize. Welfare was one thing, but what these people wanted was a redistribution of wealth unparalleled in human history.
Bull, as his close friends called him, was dismayed at what he was seeing. He wondered just where the hell this perverted view of American society had come from, and he was trying to think of a way he could stop it without being seen as a traitor to his party and the so-called “common” man.
He had not abandoned his party; it had abandoned him. The utter nonsense spewed by the new people in the House elected in the most recent election was incredible. It was clear they understood absolutely nothing about wealth-creation, economics, capitalism, personal responsibility, the famous American work ethic, or the role that faith and religion played in the bedrock areas of American society. It was as if they had been raised somewhere on another planet, and had come to the U.S. to raze its institutions, destroy its structure, and reduce society to a level of poverty that was unconscionable. The “new” people were idiots. They had absolutely no concept of how a free society functioned, and far worse, they didn’t care.
There simply had to be a way to subtly steer the nation away from the direction these self-consumed creatures were trying to lead it. If he and his old guard did not stand up and do something soon, the stupidity would become chronic and the country would be lost.
He wielded real power in the Senate, but the House had become a nightmare. University campuses were producing selfish, egotistical brats who actually believed that conservatives should not be allowed free speech, and that they should be gleefully destroyed on social media, as well as in every other form of media. Their coddling and condescending parents should have taken the whole lot of them behind the woodshed daily until they understood what serving others meant: personal responsibility—of which they had zero, zilch, nada! They were all morons!
Bull had never believed that conservatives were evil; not for a moment. He simply loved power an enjoyed spending OPM (Other People’s Money). There was nothing nefarious in his motives. With Bull Mastiff, what you saw was what you got.
These were the thoughts flowing through the Senator’s mind as he sat behind his desk looking out at the world that was in transition from winter to spring. Spring was his favorite time of year. He liked it better than any other season. The days grew warmer, but the breeze could still have enough chill in it to merit a light jacket or sweater. It always reminded him of when he had returned to the Harvard campus in his undergraduate days. Happy days.
The intercom sounded. It was Susan Hamilton, his secretary.
“Senator, you have a call.”
“Who is it?”
“The President.”
Bull was stunned. The President? Really? He had spoken to the man at his inauguration, at two States of the Union since then, and that was the extent of their communication.
He answered the phone. “Mr. President?”
“Senator Mastiff, how are you?”
“Fine. How can I help you?”
“Would you be available to have dinner with me early next week, say Monday or Tuesday?”
“Mr. President, I’ll check my schedule, but I believe next Tuesday is open. Is this a formal affair?”
“No, Senator Mastiff, it’s personal.”
“We have to play by the rules, Mr. President. Would it be wise for either of us to have a personal dinner, given our respective positions on the issues? The media is rabid these days. If I have to come to the White House, you know I’m watched all the time—just like you are. My constituency won’t like it.”
“No, Senator, you won’t have to come to the White House. You and I will be leaving town in limos and arriving at a private home, where we will have dinner with two other people. The details will arrive in a sealed letter for your eyes only. It will be a later dinner because we will be meeting after dark.”
“Mr. President, with all due respect, why the cloak and dagger? What about the rules?”
“Senator, sometimes you have to break the rules in order to ensure that the rules continue to exist. This may be one of the most important meetings in the history of this nation. May I count on you being there?”
Bull paused for a long moment. He said, “Mr. President, this is not going to be a “gotcha situation,” is it?”
“Senator, we don’t know each other well. In politics, we are adversaries. In life outside this arena, we are two men who could be friends. No, there’s no “gotcha” in this. No one must ever know about this meeting except you, me, and the two people who will be with us. I have taken the greatest caution possible to arrange for this dinner. You are the only man in the opposition I would ever have such a meeting with. I give you my solemn word, what is discussed will be known only by the people in the room.”
“Mr. President, why do you believe I am the only one?”
“Because I know that you love this country as much as I do.”
“Who are the other two?”
“The details are in the letter. Will you be there, Senator Mastiff?”
“Yes, Mr. President. I’ll be there.”
“Thank you. See you then. Goodbye.”
Senator Bull Mastiff sat and stared out the window, but his thoughts were no longer about spring.
"One of the most important meetings in the history of the nation." What could be that important?
Chapter 2
Socialism does not work for a very simple reason: There is never enough of other people’s money to sustain it. Never. The people that actually earn income cannot keep up with the expectations of the lazy, slothful people who demand it without a willingness to work for it.
It’s said that America would never fall from without, but from within, and the new breed of socialists were hellbent on destroying America through their ravenous demands for free things. Nothing is ever free, including lunch. Someone has to pay for it.
Most of the real wealth in America has been earned through hard work, genuine genius and honest effort. This does not matter to so-called socialists who believe they are entitled to live as well as those who actually work, even though they do nothing to merit anything.
Many of the congressional representatives that espouse the socialist dogma could not hold a job in working America for 15 seconds because they lack a work ethic, and they understand nothing about the foundations that built America.
University professors who spew their hatred for the rich and accomplished and preach the glories of socialism and its most virulent form—Communism—ignore the atrocities of the U.S.S.R., China, Vietnam, Cambodia, North Korea, and the western examples of Venezuela and Cuba. They fill the minds of students with the idea that they are somehow entitled to everything free of charge, especially an education paid for by others, and they create monsters ready to beat down those who believe in conservatism.
When stupidity reaches a level of mass destruction within a population, it begins to replicate itself at an alarming rate. Ronald Reagan said, “Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same.” It appeared that the final generation had arrived on the scene, and if they gained control of the nation, America would slide into the abyss of destruction that was sure to follow.
One of the oldest tenets of warfare in history is “Divide and conquer.” Americans had been divided many times in history, the worst time resulting in the Civil War. However, the present divide between liberal-progressive-socialists and the hated conservatives was becoming so unbearable that even Senator Bull Mastiff was seeing the effects of such moronic ideas being put forth in the House, and even being promoted in the Senate, all for political power over ordinary Americans.
Bull was a political animal—no question about that—but he was also a realist. He believed in compromise when it was possible. He did not hate anyone. That required way too much energy. He enjoyed the fruits of capitalism, but pandered verbally to the working man. He won re-election because he would have a drink with anyone, rich or poor. His charm was legendary. He loved women, literally and figuratively, and he was forgiven for his many sins of the flesh by those who voted for him every six years. He loved people, and people loved him. While he could overwhelm an opponent with his verbal power, he would just as soon put his arm around an adversary, lead him to a pub, and make friends.
Bull did not understand the humorless intensity of the self-identified socialists who spoke in such damning terms about America, who hated the rich and wanted to make them give up all their money, and who wanted to reduce civilization to bicycles, walking and eating kale instead of beef. After all, he was rich! What the hell was wrong with that?
The President’s letter had been delivered, and he had read through it twice. The details were succinct and to-the-point. He would be picked up at a certain location near the Senate office building on the coming Tuesday at twilight. A suggested route from his office to the pick-up point to avoid detection was given in the second paragraph.
He would be driven to the meeting by a circuitous route, and arrive at 8:00 p.m. There would be four people in the meeting, including the President and him. The other two were not identified. They would have dinner, a discussion, and he would be returned to his office by 11:00 p.m.
Bull was also a survivor. He loved his position, and he believed in the Constitution, which would have surprised many on the other side the aisle. He was a lapsed Catholic, and he knew that he would need to spend a month in confession to clear his record. He did not personally believe in abortion, however, when it came to that issue, he expressed the party line as being pro-choice, knowing his hypocrisy would require even more time with a priest.
In truth, he was becoming sickened with the direction his beloved party leaders were traveling. It was hard to look at himself in the mirror some mornings when he allowed himself to think more deeply about the utter nonsense those leaders were now embracing.
As a writer once wrote—he could not remember the man’s name (it was Griff, or Biff, or something that sounded like that), “If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, then the pavement on Pennsylvania Avenue must be 10,000 miles thick.”
The problem on Tuesday night was his protective detail. The well-trained and armed men that were always near him could not accompany him that evening. Even when he went off on one of his dalliances with the ladies, they were always near. He could not escape their presence without a ruse to convince them that he was safe. It was their job, and they took it very seriously. The world was filled with wackos who would love to harm Senator Bull Mastiff.
The letter had also described a way that this could be accomplished. Another social gathering was to be held that evening, and his detail had purposely been invited to it. It was being held at a private club near the Capitol and hosted by the Secret Service.
The head of his detail, Mark Williams, had come to him with the request to attend, but he understood that this might be impossible because of their need to protect him. Bull had promised him that he would remain in his office, and that they could take him home at 11:30 that evening. He would be safe in his office, and he would keep the door locked until they got there. That settled it. The men looked forward to a free night in the company of their peers.
Chapter 3
When the senator stepped out of the back of the limo on Tuesday night, he stopped and stared at the mansion before him. He was used to the grand vistas and homes owned by his family and relatives. He had an experienced taste for luxury and was well-acquainted with the finer things in life: automobiles, boats, planes, fabulous vacations, and countless fact-finding trips paid for by Uncle Sam.
The mansion in front of him took his breath away. He had never seen anything like it, and he had been a guest in some of the most fantastic homes in America and around the world.
The mansion was set on a 500-acre estate in the Virginia countryside. It had been a long ride from when they passed through the gates of the estate until they got to the house. However, he saw little in the dark of the evening. The three-story mansion had many rooms, but he could not estimate just how many from where he stood.
A uniformed butler awaited him at the front door. The man reminded him of a character from an English movie set in the 18thcentury. When he passed through the front door, he stood in a vast foyer with sweeping staircases on his left and right, and rising to the second floor.
There were paintings on the wall that reminded him of the incredible art displayed in the finest museums in the world. Clearly someone with an unlimited budget had chosen the artwork, the furniture, the mirrors, the carpets, and every other detail in the great house.
The butler led him to the right to 12-foot high double doors made of the finest wood, intricately carved in relief details, with gold doorknobs and plates gleaming in the light.
The servant opened the door, and Bull stepped into a magnificent dining room. The table could accommodate twenty people, but there were only three men present: The President of the United States, a man Bull did not recognize, and one of the richest, most successful men in the world: Reynolds Richardson, a billionaire so many times over that even Forbes had trouble determining his worth. It was his home, and he would be the host on this most important evening.
Bull moved forward and said, “Mr. President, thank you for your invitation. Mr. Richardson, we haven’t met, but I have seen you in the news many times these last few years.” He turned to the third man and extended his hand with a smile. “May I ask your name, sir?”
The man was dressed in a fine dark suit with a university tie, and his white hair gleamed in the lamplight. He was over six feet tall, ramrod straight, and could have been anywhere from 70 to 90. There was a quality about him that was ageless. His smile was that of a younger man.
The man extended his hand, and said, “Michael Norwich at your service, Senator Mastiff. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Bull was stunned. He hadn’t known the man was still alive. This was the acclaimed American historian of the 20thcentury. He had to be close to 90 years old, perhaps more.
He felt the firmness in the man’s hand, and the look on Bull’s face elicited a response. “Yes sir, I am still alive. I will be 89 in November of this year, and I have no plans on leaving just yet.”
This brought a heartfelt laugh from the others, and a tension was broken.
The four men were a study in contrasts.
Norwich was the premier historian in the United States.
The next oldest was the President, who was 71, and occupying the office at one of the most dangerous times in the world. The threat of terrorism, the rise of American socialists, the problems on the southern border, and the incredible divisions in the nation created an atmosphere that was incendiary 24 hours a day.
At 68, Senator Bull Mastiff was seen as the driving force in the United States Senate.
Their host, Reynolds Richardson, was not yet 50 years old, fiercely independent, incredibly wealthy, and an enigma to many people in politics.
Richardson invited them to the table, and for the next hour they enjoyed a wonderful meal as they spoke and learned more about each other.
When the meal was over, their host led them to a magnificent library where four comfortable chairs were arranged around a round coffee table. A choice of coffee or tea was waiting on a sideboard.
Reynolds Richardson was the first to speak. “Gentlemen, I’m very happy you have come here tonight. I believe we are at a crossroads in our nation, and I believe if we do not act, what is coming will be a nightmare from which there is no escape. I want to begin by stating the obvious. Three of us represent the three political positions that are strongest in our country. I represent the independent, while you, Mr. President, and you Senator Mastiff, represent the two major parties. Our fourth member represents a powerful knowledge of our history, body politic, laws, and the evolution of this nation since its beginning.
“My first question is this: What is the greatest threat to this nation in this age?”
The President was the first to respond. “In general terms, I would answer China, North Korea, Iran, Russia and Islamic fanatics that want to destroy western civilization. It depends on what is going on at any given time as to which one of them is most threatening.”
Bull said, “Of those you mentioned, I think China is the greatest overall threat in the long term. The others are equally threatening at times, but China intends to replace us as the dominant power in the world.”
“Professor Norwich, who do you believe is our greatest enemy?” Richardson asked.
The older man was silent for a moment. The others waited respectfully for his response. Finally, he said, “It has been said that America will fall from within. All the forces you have listed are on the outside. I know that at this time they may appear to be a huge existential threat to our beloved home, but none of them is our greatest enemy.”
Bull said, “Who then, in your opinion, is the greatest enemy we face?”
The historian turned his gaze to Bull, and his eyes were sad. “Our greatest enemy of all is our media. There is no fair or balanced reporting anymore. 95 percent of them are slanted left. They are the force driving the unrest and creating the divisions between us. They are destroying the nation from within, all in the name of reason, which they totally lack, and for the ratings, which they desperately desire. Unless we return to a state of balance in what we believe to be truth, our path to destruction is unwavering, and we will fall within a decade.”
Reynolds Richardson said, “I believe that Professor Norwich is right. The media has become the greatest enemy of the people. The question is: What can we do about it? How can we stop them? Is there a way to combat their rabid disregard for the whole truth? It’s the whole truth we are concerned about, and, as a devout independent, I believe that our national salvation does not lie with one extreme or another, but in the presentation of balanced information to the American people. The other enemies you listed are quite real, but they are laughing at us now because we are tearing ourselves apart without any help from them.
“I have an answer to the problem, but, as a private citizen, I need inside help. That is why you are here. The answer lies with government, but I will defer to Professor Norwich to explain what it is. Before he begins, would anyone like more coffee or tea?”
Bull responded, “At the risk of offense, and none is intended, do you have anything stronger?” Bull smiled, and his great charm was evident for the others to see.
They all laughed. Their host said, “I thought we might need clear heads for our discussion this evening, but there is a single malt on the sideboard, as well.”
Bull said, “My Irish ancestors have passed down their gift to me, and I have enjoyed it immensely. I do my best thinking when I am relaxed, and I relax whenever possible. Besides, gentlemen, it is a good thing to keep an Irishman somewhat sedated. Perhaps you have heard the old saw as to why man invented whisky?”
Professor Norwich smiled and said, “Whisky was invented so the Irish wouldn’t rule the world.”
They all laughed at this response. They were becoming friends, and that was a very good thing, indeed.
Chapter 4
Professor Norwich began his presentation. “Gentlemen, please forgive me, because it is necessary to bore you with a bit of history.
“Our problem is not with newspapers, magazines, newsletters or the print media. They are privately owned, and they offer no solution.
“The trouble lies within the electronic media: radio and television, and also in the online world and the giants who dominate that world in social media. The online media is terribly powerful and without any way to control it at this time.
“For all intents and purposes, the first radio station, KDKA, went on the air in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in 1920. In the years that followed, people constructed radio stations all over the landscape. It was utter chaos because stations with different power levels were broadcasting on AM frequencies at the same time, drowning out other stations, so much so that something had to be done to correct the problem.
“The Federal Communications Commission was created, and the Communications Act of 1934 was enacted to bring order to that chaos. Based on where they were, when they first came on the air, and other criteria, AM stations were given classifications such as "clear channel." That means an AM station, usually 50,000 watts in power, in cities like New York, were dominant on that channel. They broadcast in an omni-directional pattern.
“Smaller AM stations became directional in that they had more than one tower, and they had to be electronically “tuned” by consulting engineers, so that their pattern of service was aimed in a given direction, so as not to interfere with other stations on the same frequency. Some stations were only allowed to be on the air during daylight hours, while others could operate around the clock.
“Then came television. I won’t go into the boring minutia of details, as I just did with radio, but a key thing should be remembered at this point. The people of America “own” the airwaves of America.
“A federal broadcasting license is given, and these words are very important, “… in the public interest, convenience and necessity.” Notice the word “public.” That does not mean half the public. It doesn’t refer to a third of the pubic. It means, purely and simply, all the public.
“In 1949, the so-called Fairness Doctrine became part of the governing regulations in the broadcasting world. It required the holders of broadcast licenses both to present controversial issues of public importance, and to do so in a manner that was—in the FCC's view—honest, equitable, and balanced. The doctrine didn’t require equal time for opposing views, but it did insist that contrasting viewpoints be presented.
“Some people confuse the Fairness Doctrine with the equal opportunity provision of the Communications Act, that requires radio and television stations, and cable systems that originate their own programming, to treat legally qualified political candidates equally when it comes to selling or giving away air time.
“It is intellectually dishonest to say that the Fairness Doctrine did not lead to fairness. It resulted in broadcasters doing their best to present all sides of an issue. The people own the airwaves. Never forget it … and the people are Republicans, Democrats, Independents and other political groups, by their own choice.
“Sadly, the Fairness Doctrine was eliminated in 1987 during the Ronald Reagan administration. Many believe this was the beginning of the rising level of the polarization between political parties in America. I agree with them.
“Thus, the Fairness Doctrine played its role for 38 years before the people in power turned their backs on it. In the world we now live in, the reasons for the removal of the doctrine do not matter. What matters is where we are now.
“Gentlemen, we are in a fight-to-the-death for the very soul and survival of this nation. The incredible nonsense that has caused the ignorant to embrace socialism must be dragged into the light and shone for what it truly is: our slide into third world status.
“If we continue on our present path, we are doomed. We must do something to stop the barbarians who have breached the gate and are now on our streets. Our Constitution clearly outlines where we came from, but the socialist mantra shows where we are going. The question before us is this: What shall we do?”
With these words, Professor Norwich stopped speaking. The silence in the room was long. Finally, the President looked at Bull and said, quietly, “If I can be informal with you, Senator Mastiff ... ”
“Please, Mr. President, my friends call me Bull. While we may disagree politically over many issues, I would like you to consider me a new friend. Malcolm is my given name, but I hate pomp and circumstance. I always have. I am an American of Irish descent. I am a privileged man from a wealthy family. I am ever grateful for that fact, but I really do identify with the so-called “common” man.
“The ordinary man sends me to the Senate with his vote. The ordinary American, whatever that means, lives in the most extraordinary nation on earth. Ordinary men built this nation with their sacrifice, blood, sweat and tears. Ordinary men make this country possible. They build the cities and towns, serve in the military, guard our streets, and teach the children. They drive the busses and taxis, wait on us in restaurants, make our products, and service our lives on every level and in every possible way. They deserve the best we can do for them. Actually, there is nothing common about them at all.”
The President smiled. “Bull, how do you feel about the direction your party is going in now?”
“Honestly? Terrible. I am a Democrat. I have always been a Democrat and I always will be, but socialism, as far as I am concerned, is equivalent to cancer. It’s a disease that has infected too many in our party. It’s a terminal sickness unless the cure can be discovered very soon. I am tired. I have seriously been thinking about retiring at the end of this term and going home to enjoy the rest of my life with my family and friends. I don’t know if we can overcome the new breed of Democrat-Socialist, and that term, in itself, is an oxymoron, with the emphasis on “moron.”
The others laughed.
Bull said, “If you’ll forgive a bit of levity, an oxymoron sucks all the oxygen out of the room when they appear because they won’t shut up, sit down, and learn anything from the grownups in the room. I consider myself a grownup who has paid his dues in the Senate, and who understands the need for the give-and-take in our often messy republic. We meet in the middle, and do our best to govern. Not one of us always gets all we want or expect, but that is the way it works.
“Lately, I am becoming angrier every day. As Professor Norwich said, “What shall we do to stop this nonsense?”
Reynolds Richardson said, “Bull, my friends call me Ray. Let me make a suggestion. As an independent, we need an independent solution, and the solution is to bring back the Fairness Doctrine in an altered form.
“We all understand the difference between news and opinion, but what we have on 95% of the electronic media today is opinion, and not news. I’m too young to remember, but I do read everything about American history. An honest effort was made by broadcasters to be fair and balanced when the doctrine was in effect. They let Americans make up their minds as to what was true. Today, they babble on all day, every day, 24/7 telling people what to think.”
“Too many of the new breed think of themselves as journalists, and claim to be such, but they wouldn’t know journalism if they tripped and fell over it. They are not journalists and never will be. Journalists report facts. They seek real truth. They use their minds to think logically, and they present facts and allow the audience to decide what is true and what is not. The new breed hate conservatives and see themselves as the intellectual elite—far above the common man you praised, Bull. They have no right to say many of the things they state as truth, but their networks and cable stations urge them on for ratings and money. There is no serving the public interest, convenience and necessity. The real “necessity” is seeing and hearing the truth, but the truth has been impaled on their skewers. It needs life-support before it expires and becomes extinct.
The President said, “Ray, how do we bring fairness back to the media? How can we get this done so that it can’t be undone?
Another silence descended on the men. They looked at each other. It was time for a solution to be offered. If the Fairness Doctrine was to return, how could it be accomplished?
Chapter 5
Reynolds Richardson looked at his three guests and smiled. “Gentlemen, I’m sure you all know the answer to this question: What is the greatest court in the land?"
The President said, “The easy answer is the Supreme Court.”
Bull said, “But, you’re right, it isn’t the greatest of all."
Professor Norwich said, “The court of public opinion.”
“Right. Public opinion is more powerful than anything when it comes to the attention paid by Washington politicians. They covet the good opinion of the public when it serves their purposes, but they ignore that opinion when they are between elections.
“With your help, I am going to wage war on Washington, and fortunately, I can afford to do so. However, I need your help. What I am going to ask you to do is so outrageous that it will shake the self-satisfied power brokers on both sides of the aisle to their core, and force them to do something that they do not want to do: Bring back the Fairness Doctrine.
“The power to persuade through advertising is proven. Advertising drives our economy. The power of images can be immeasurable when its focus is on an idea that is so strongly presented that there is no way to deny it.
“I’ve contracted with the best ad agency in the world to produce a series of television, radio, and online ads to overwhelm the opposition to my goal: To bring a revised Fairness Doctrine to America again; one that encompasses the values that we hold dear: Free speech without harassment in every forum including university and college campuses, a free expression of ideas, a fair and balanced presentation of all positions on all federally licensed radio and television stations, equal exposure of Republican, Democrat and Independent policies and positions, and the requirement that stations prove through ascertainment interviews that fair and balanced goals are maintained to qualify for license renewal every three years.
“This will also allow for the expression of other ideas, as well, including Libertarian, socialist and other political philosophies, but everything must be fair and balanced.
“I am instituting the introduction of required courses on our Republic, including our Founders, our founding documents, patriotism and our Judeo-Christian values at every college campus in this nation.
“I am also paying to introduce American history courses for public high school curricula across this nation, and offering cash incentives for school districts to hire teachers who believe in our history and not some twisted version of the truth that is mouthed by those who would destroy this nation.
“In short, I am putting my money where my mouth is. I am done waiting for someone to do something, and I have enlisted the monetary aid of others who believe in the same things I believe in. This is just the beginning. There are many other things we plan to do.
“This will not happen in a week, a month, or a year, but it is going to happen. It will not be easy. Our enemies are virulent in their hatred and animosity to the real America. They hate us with an abiding hate. In their minds, I must give them everything I have through punishing, monstrous taxation.
“Our national debt is incredible, but I’m preaching to the choir when I mention this to you. I will not apologize to you, Mr. President, or you, Senator Mastiff, because both of you have contributed to that debt, and I do not condemn you for your involvement. Both of you are politicians, and your parties have built the debt over many decades. I know that both of you must reach a place where you will try to reverse the course of our nation, or we will all go down together.
“I am not a politician. I do not care what people think of me. I am well-protected. As silly as this may sound, I really don’t know the full extent of my fortune. I pay people to keep track of such information, but my goal is not another yacht, jet, car, or mansion. I have such things, true. But my nation is about to die, and I want it to live.
“I am declaring war tonight on the socialists and upon anyone else in this nation who wants to destroy it. Now, you must be wondering why I asked the three of you to come here tonight. You are here because I need you—each of you—for something, as I said earlier, that you may think is outrageous. In fact, it is so wild that it is the one ingredient required for our success.”
It was at this point that he explained what he wanted them to do. It was truly outrageous.
Chapter 6
Bull arrived back at his office at 10 minutes before 11:00 p.m. He walked in, sat down behind his desk, and stared at his silent computer.
His mind was filled with the challenge that Reynolds Richardson had given to the three of them. In his wildest dreams, he would have never imagined such a thing.
He was mesmerized by what the billionaire had said. The most outrageous thing of all was that he had agreed to participate. So had the President and the professor. They had shaken hands, said their goodbyes, and left the mansion.
What he was about to do could have two results. One was the possibility, however slim, that they could change the path of America from certain disaster to a better future. The other was the probable end of his career in the Senate.
Losing his job would not be such a big deal. After all, he was beyond the age when many men had long since retired. He didn’t need the money or fame. He would miss the daily craziness of the Capitol, and his demanding schedule, but he would be away from the stupidity that now gripped so many people who ought to know better.
In fact, even if what they planned succeeded, he would probably still lose his position. He had been the fair-haired boy all his life. He had served long enough to make him an icon. The thought was amusing. That would not protect him from the anger and hatred that would be directed at him. Because he was on their side of the aisle—the side of the crazies—they left him alone, believing that he was marginalized by his membership in their “club,” and therefore harmless.
Maybe Reynolds Richardson could get him a job in Ireland? The man did own a lot of things there. In fact, he owned a lot of things everywhere, or so it seemed. This made him chuckle.
He had told the others that he was thinking about retirement. This would be one way to go out with a bang, and not a whimper, as T.S. Eliot said.
Although his job would be in jeopardy, he had not felt so alive and excited since he was in his 20’s and running for his first office. He felt a fire growing within him.
Richardson was building a mighty framework unlike anything the political left could have ever dreamed of. He had been at it for some time. He was a genius, after all, a genius with an incredible amount of money and power.
There were billionaires on the left, as well, but none of them had as much money as Richardson had. He suspected that other billionaires were involved in Richardson’s War. That is what he had begun to call it: Richardson’s War—it would be one for the history books!
Bull looked at a clock on his desk. It had been presented to him by his grandchildren on the previous Christmas. There was a picture of the four of them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder next to him and in front of a tree at the family compound. All of them were smiling happily.
Lord, how he loved them! He got to spend so little time with them throughout the year. One of them in the military, two in university, and the youngest a high school senior, it would be really wonderful to see more of them, but their lives were as busy as his life. He was, after all, a grandfather, and in the scheme of things, grandfathers became less important when grandchildren became adults. It was the normal way of things.
He really ought to work harder at his marriage—a lot harder. Having more time would make that easier, as well. It was worth it. His first two marriages had ended amicably enough, but failure was not something he had ever accepted—and he had failed both of those women miserably. He had been a philanderer, a cad and a fool.
Perhaps it was age, but he realized in this rare moment of inward reflection that he was, for all intents and purposes, closer to eternity. Sixty-eight wasn’t ancient, but there were no guarantees in life. His father had died at 57. Cigarettes and alcohol had done him in.
Bull drank, but he didn’t smoke. He wasn’t about to take up that habit. He took his medication, went to a gym, and tried to keep his blood pressure under control.
If heaven was real, and he was certain it was—otherwise life made no sense at all—he ought to find a priest and share a tractor trailer load of sins with him. The Good Lord, he was sure, did not have a good opinion of one Malcolm “Bull” Mastiff at this time.
Overall, it had been a wonderful life to this point. His name was on several schools, parks and bridges in his home state, which was another irony. After all, the citizenry had paid for those things with their money, but some folks were into honoring politicians. It made for good newspaper pictures with mayors in local communities, and when did politicians not enjoy having themselves patted on their backs?
Taking credit for things other people paid for—this was the political life. Sadly, most of them had no idea that they were paying for those things in the first place. Their taxes were removed from their paychecks every week without protest. They were too busy living their own lives to pay attention.
Had he actually contributed anything of lasting value to his nation? Good question. Five minutes after he was gone, he would be forgotten—a footnote in a federal register.
Now, he was sitting here and becoming maudlin. He would probably start blubbering and weeping in the next minute. The thought made him laugh out loud. No, he was a hard case—no crying for him.
There was a knock on his door. It would be his protective detail here to take him safely home.
He stood up. Whatever was about to happen would happen. He wanted to be a good soldier in Richardson’s War, even if he died trying.
Chapter 7
Lord Acton was right. “… absolute power corrupts absolutely.” The ideas that would destroy America had been fermenting in the faculty lounges at the nation’s universities and colleges for decades. The deliberate revision and removal of accurate American history textbooks from public high schools had been going on for an equal amount of time. The result was a generation of selfish, egotistical, faithless, self-serving children who did not have the ability to look up from their cell phones long enough to pay attention to their overstressed parents, let alone right-thinking teachers and mentors.
Far too many in their generation did not understand the reasons for patriotism, had no desire whatsoever to serve in the military, felt that they should be coddled, rewarded for simply existing, and listened to and obeyed as if they were in charge of society. Their ignorance of American history was mind-numbing. They fit the description that Jesus gave of such as these: “If the blind lead the blind, they both fall into a pit.” They might as well be blind, deaf and dumb.
The socialist agenda had arrived in Congress, and the mainstream media was filled with glee, extolling the virtues of free everything—paid for by the “undeserving, wealthy, rich” who should pay their fair share. Never mind that the wealthy already paid far more of the share of taxes than any other group in society.
Socialism killed 100 million people in the 20thcentury. It raised up dictators and despots who trampled their people underfoot while paying for great armies and protecting themselves behind guards, guns and walls.
Yet, the 21stcentury brand of so-called Democrat-Socialists insisted that no one had ever gotten socialism right, and that they were the ones to do so. They assured the uninformed, un-read, un-learned idiots in the younger generation that the Holy Grail of their system was that everything would be free. It would be so wonderful that even those who refused to work would have a guaranteed income, free health care, free college tuition—free everything!
It was utter nonsense on steroids, and it would bankrupt America within a decade if it ever became the law of the land.
The biggest success on the part of liberals, progressives and socialists was the removal of God from the schools and public square. Faith was reduced to a joke. Darwinism and science were the new faiths, and Christ was relegated to irrelevance. Christians were to be mocked for their beliefs, and Jews were no better.
Having gained power by being elected to office, the socialists had begun their insidious corruption of the body politic by proclaiming their ideas in public. The old guard among the Democrats were secretly horrified by these new people and their beliefs, but they were also afraid of them. They bought into the idea that the newcomers represented a seismic shift in the population, and that they had to go along to get along if they were going to avoid being ostracized by the new breed and lose their re-election efforts. Holding on to their positions and power was all that mattered. They didn’t give a damn about the people who had voted them into office again and again in many cases.
The Democrat-Socialists believed they were about to take control of the nation and achieve their nightmare of a dream for all. The babbling talking heads in the mainstream media were certain that the monsters they were supporting would win, and that their utopian dreams of influence would be achieved.
Then, unexpectedly, the first salvo in Richardson’s War was launched.
It was in prime time on a Monday night. When a man is worth uncounted billions, and his friends are worth billions more, it is very hard to say, “No!”
Money doesn’t just talk. It screams, especially when TV commercial revenues are falling.
The commercial hit the air like an atom bomb. It played on all the networks. Who could turn down such money? You would have to be insane to alienate such power and money with the promise of much more to come!
The commercial opened with a man, hale and hearty, of advanced years, but ramrod straight, his white fair ruffled by a slight breeze, standing in front of the somber figure of Abraham Lincoln sitting in his chair. His memorial in Washington, D.C. was clearly visible behind him.
“Hello, I’m Michael Norwich. Those who know who I am are probably surprised to see me standing in such an auspicious place. I suspect that some of you may not know what the word auspicious means. I suggest you look it up.
“The man behind me is, in my opinion, one of the two greatest American presidents in history, and as a historian of some note, I am supposed to know about such things.
What did Abraham Lincoln actually say about our great nation? Here are his actual words: "Shall we expect some transatlantic military giant to step the ocean and crush us at a blow? Never! All the armies of Europe, Asia, and Africa combined, with all the treasure of the earth (our own excepted) in their military chest, with a Bonaparte for a commander, could not by force take a drink from the Ohio or make a track on the Blue Ridge in a trial of a thousand years. At what point then is the approach of danger to be expected? I answer. If it ever reaches us it must spring up amongst us; it cannot come from abroad. If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As a nation of freemen, we must live through all time or die by suicide."
“In the language of the 21stcentury, simply stated, Lincoln said that we would never fall from without, but from within. The only people strong enough to destroy us are we, ourselves. Sadly, we have reached that place in time. We will fall from within in the next decade … unless we change.
“I was privileged to teach American history at Harvard and Princeton for many years, not the history taught today, but the actual history as it really is. Enough about me. I’d like you to hear what a friend of mine has to say.
The scene faded into one of the President of the United States standing in front of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
“My fellow Americans, I am privileged to serve as your President, and I am honored beyond words to do so. However, this is not about me. The history of America is embodied, literally, in the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The bodies of soldiers from our various wars lie entombed behind me. We do not know who they are, but we know that they are forever enshrined here, to be guarded and revered through the years, and, if possible, through the centuries that will come.
“We are a free people because of those who lie in the fields of Arlington, in Gettysburg, in Normandy, France, and in the countless cemeteries and churchyards throughout this nation.
“Our freedom exists because of them. They laid down their lives that we, and all the rest of the world, might see their example, and live in freedom.
“You might expect to see me here, but you probably did not expect to see my friend who joins us now.”
Again the scene faded and shifted to Senator Malcolm “Bull” Mastiff in the cemetery at Gettysburg.
Bull, dressed in casual clothes, looked into the camera. “Thank you, Mr. President. No, I am sure you did not expect to see me here. One of my ancestors lies here. He lived in Massachusetts, and he died here for the freedom of the slaves.
“The President and I are in different political parties, and we disagree on many things. However, there is one thing we agree on: Socialism has no place in America. It never has had a place … and it never will.
“Who is our greatest enemy that desires socialism? The answer is complex. It is the new members of Congress who want to control everyone in this nation through the federal government. It is the academics on college campuses who spout Marxist doctrine to gullible students with no knowledge of the past, who know nothing of the Soviet Union, China, Korea, Vietnam, Cuba or Venezuela. It is the agents of totalitarian regimes hidden within our nation that have crossed our borders illegally. Finally, it is our mainstream media, that in many ways is our greatest enemy of all.
“In the days, weeks and months ahead, you will finally hear the truth of what has been going on behind the scenes in the media. You will learn facts that no one has ever told you before. You will hear what you have not heard because no one wanted you to know.
“I am a Democrat, a Democrat who loves his party and all we once stood for … but a Democrat who will never embrace socialism.
“This is the beginning of a battle, a war, if you will, against the mainstream media and its management of information, disinformation, and deflection of the truth that is leading to the recognition, acceptance and eventual adoption of socialism in this country.
“In taking this stand, I have placed myself in opposition to certain members of my own party. This is an incredibly painful moment for me.
“We must return the Fairness Doctrine to our media. The people own the airwaves of the United States of America. The people are Democrats, Republicans, Independents, Libertarians, and, yes, Socialists, as well as members of other political groups. All deserve to be heard via our TV and radio stations. All deserve to have access to each and every electronic media outlet. No one should dictate what they believe to you. As an American you need to watch, listen, and make your own conclusions.
“The battle will be hard, ugly, nasty, dirty, and fierce. The people deserve the complete truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. The only opinion that matters is the people’s opinion, not the opinion of Congress. There are 535 of us and 330 million of you. We need to hear from you. Your members of Congress need to hear from you.
‘This is not the end. This is the beginning. We will either remain a free capitalist country—the greatest country in the history of the world—or we will fall into the abyss and end up on the ash heap of history.
“It is time to return the Fairness Doctrine. It is time for radio and television stations to be fair and balanced once again.
“We need to hear from you again. The silent majority will no longer be silent. Thank you.”
****
A mainstream network vice president became so enraged as he watched the commercial that he had a massive heart attack and died on the floor of his office. All over America, elitists were screaming at their television sets.
A Harvard professor took a shotgun and blew his TV to smithereens. The police arrested him for discharging a firearm in a residential neighborhood.
Bull’s party leaders were apoplectic. How dare the Lion of the Senate side with the President and leader of the hated conservatives! They vowed to destroy him!
The commercial aired over and over again. It was the first of many. True to his word, Reynolds Richardson and his many supporters had begun. They had the money and the power to influence public opinion in ways that no one in the socialist camp had ever considered. They were capitalists and entrepreneurs. They understood marketing and advertising because they owned many of the companies in those areas of business. They were the best. Billionaires are made—not born, and many billionaires believe in free enterprise.
Richardson’s War had begun. How it would end remained to be seen.
