Chapter Thirty-Three

Assange had ants in his pants. He’d been here before, many times, but it still didn’t change the fact that being a political pariah could be tiresome. No more girls. No more walks thru London. No more jet-setting, although even at the height of his popularity, he was miserly with his funding, and rarely treated himself to whims he could certainly afford. It was all for the cause, and the cause needed people like him: single-minded, dedicated purists who were good at finding others with money to contribute. He excelled at living on next to nothing, unfortunately WikiLeaks did not.

Regardless, 2012 had been decent. The banking blockade was still in effect from Paypal, Mastercard/Visa and other cronies of the international monetary system, but his team used it to sway public opinion, and funding continued to trickle in. The Stratfor emails were the juiciest leaks, revealing how independent surveillance companies gained diplomatic immunity from federal law to spy on anyone including unlimited personal data gathering, bribing international media and activity that would be considered illegal. The heads were the usual incestuous group of ex-military brigands used to following orders and being creative with amoral strategies. It was dark stuff, but on a lighter note, his show on RT had been fun, and the world hadn’t ended…yet.




It was time to write a letter. Assange sat down at his laptop.




Dear President Obama,

I know you are a good man. I am sincerely grateful you are president of the United States, because I trust you have the interests of the People in mind. International polls suggest the rest of the world believes you to be a man of integrity, willing to do the right thing. You have an opportunity to unite the People in ways this Earth has never seen, but I am concerned your own government is working against you.

I respect the fact you want to unite conservatives and liberals instead of divide them. I respect your acceptance of criticism and even hatred toward you. I respect you, because you respect all humans beings regardless if you agree with them, and instead of play games with the lives of others, you choose to find common ground. That in itself is exceptional, and you are in the position to bring that vision to the entire planet, but it must begin in the United States.

Please sir, tear down the veil that separates you from us. Responsible government is for the People, by the People and to insure its success, it must be transparent to the People. Show the People the truth, and let us see what goes on inside the government. It will free you of having to keep secrets from us. It will embolden creative minds to be accountable leaders. It will manifest win-win solutions, and most importantly, it will be the kind of change you promised America.

The whole world is watching, and we’ve been waiting for awhile. If you are the one up to the challenge, we will make it worth your time. We will evolve with you, not against you. We shall know the truth, and the truth shall set us free.




Transparency is the apocalypse,

Julian Assange

Post Apocalypse

Transparency is the Apocalypse. We're on the upswing now. The public is realizing several key things:

1. Our government is a great idea, but it's being used by some in power for personal gain.
2. Our military is a great idea, but it's being manipulated by some in power for global terrorism.
3. Capitalism is a great idea, but it's being warped by some in power for predatory motives.

What's the truth? We, the People have the power. Our collective opinion is what makes the laws here, and on the daily we are respectful to each other, we do good business and we are civil human beings that don't argue all the time. Shouldn't our government/military/big business mirror reality?

Let's let go of the hype...if that includes some people in power, so be it.

Secret Muslim [political parody rap video]

"I bet he's a secret Muslim,
says he prays to Christ, but you just don't trust him,
kneels to Ramadan five times a day,
don't eat for a month, what the f*ck does that say?"

Chapter Thirty-Two

“How are you doing Poppy?”

George H.W. Bush Sr. was old…older than Cheney, but his legacy was safe, as long as he was alive. Lately, he had to work harder than ever to keep it that way. “I’m fine Dick. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m hanging in there,” Cheney replied, “but I must admit, I am a bit concerned about the pop culture brewing in the White House.”

“Oh?” Bush slowly turned in his chair to face Cheney. “It seems to me that we have that bud nipped. What are you worried about?”

Cheney gathered his thoughts. He had always gotten along swimmingly with Poppy, a constant business partner and mentor, but momentarily realizing he was speaking with “the master,” (as Bush is referred to within the espionage community) sometimes it was unsettling. “I’m concerned about ‘our man’ in the White House being a possible Manchurian candidate,” Cheney admitted. “I don’t want to be paranoid, but it seems as if he is susceptible to public opinion that we don’t want.”

Bush glanced at the floor and thought for a moment. “Did you happen to catch the documentary ‘Dreams of My Real Father’?”

Cheney looked perplexed. “No, I figured it was more propaganda to hurt his chances of winning a second term…it didn’t matter anyways.”

Bush stared at Cheney. “We’ve known since the first election that his real father is the deceased Frank Marshall Davis, that commie organizer from Chicago. We were able to get a DNA analysis from an independent source.”

Cheney looked awed. “Is that what we’ve ‘got’ on the President? This whole time we’ve been saving it?”

“There is some stickiness involved,” admitted Bush. “At first, we thought we had the ultimate trump card. He obeyed orders and kept away from ‘that which shall not be named,’ but a short while ago, he gained some intel that should not have been obtainable.”

Cheney thought for second, “are you still worried about ‘the big event’?”

“Yes…and no.” Bush paused. “The President’s grand father, Stanley Dunham, was CIA and a trusted member of ‘the company’. However, we didn’t realize how deep his affections could run for his kin compared to our allegiances. We thought he hid the president’s paternity for personal gain and consideration for the CIA. It turns out, he respected this commie and had a sit down with him and his child right after MLK and RFK were assassinated. He spilled the beans intentionally, and ever since, our president has realized he has a double identity.”

“Holy shit!” Cheney was stunned. “The president’s granpa was CIA, and his dad was a commie. No wonder he’s such a moderate. Well, can’t we get him on perjury for stating his dad was that Kenyan?”

“We can,” started Bush, “but the problem is, what will the CIA do?”

“What do you mean?” asked Cheney. “I thought the CIA held you with the utmost importance.”

“That’s the conundrum,” Bush said. “I’ve been able to keep myself protected for decades…but this anomaly makes me hesitant to play out the same strategy. Some in the CIA may consider his story not only newsworthy, they might actually empathize with it.”

“So you understand why I’m concerned?” asked Cheney.

“Of course, but remaining status quo has sufficed so far, and so far, that’s all I’m willing to agree to.”

Cheney stifled the impulse to freak out. “I see. Well, can you tell me any good news or possibilities I should investigate?”

Bush considered the question. “Sure. Keep your eyes peeled for our President’s lack of fascination with Julian Assange and Bradley Manning. There is a clear and present danger that our leader does not consider them the threat that they are. That could be the link we need.”

Review of "Dreams of My Real Father" [documentary on Obama's life]

Just watched "Dreams of My Real Father", which was supposed to be a smear piece on Obama, but if you get past the right wing rhetoric, has an amazing amount of good information (and photos) of his life story. The idea that Obama's real father is Frank Marshall Davis, Chicago Communist organizer, which was hidden by his grandfather, CIA agent Stanley Dunham, (only because how embarrassing would it be that his rebellious daughter would have an affair with a known communist?) is pretty radical...but there's a lot of great evidence.



Instead of shocked, I'm actually intrigued.



Grampa was CIA and Dad was a commie? No wonder he's a moderate.

Heaven Was My Life featuring REP (new organ by John Maxfield)

[hook]
If I go to hell, I bet I keep my wings, because
Heaven was my whole damn life...
Heaven was my whole damn life...
Heaven was my whole damn life...
[x2]

Toth:

Our father, hallowed be thy name, for it's
you from whom I came, thy kingdom
come, (right now) thy will be done, on
Earth as it, is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread, for
with it, I make my bed, I don't tress-
pass, so I won't get tresspas-sed, the only
temptation going is to end up dead, to the

Truth, that evil really has no head, you can't
dance with the devil, when he has no legs, just a
bunch of bad decisions that has no end, unless you
separate yourself from them. So let's be

friends, for thine is the kingdom and the power to
lend, more Ender, more glory to remember, there
is no beginning and there'll never be an end, for-
ever...forever...forever... amen.

[hook]

REP:

Heaven was my whole
life, life, life where did I fail?
On a mission to prevail,
Represent, I get it, how I live,
God forgive me for all my sins,

Amen, and at the end of every prayer,
at the end of everything we laid down, before he come saves us,
Represent, been here representing for the underground,
They don't own me so I often speak with a new and final offer of sound,

Lay 'em down, stick 'em up, screw 'em like a nail,
and this life we live, sometimes I feel like we in hell.
Stop where ye dwell...
sometimes I'm figuring this shit out my nigga, sometimes where did I fail?

But I don't know, I don't know
I can't choose it, you must show me,
I can't figure it out neither,
give me a path, so I can proceed thus.

[hook]

Gratitude for All

I'm grateful for God aka Allah aka Yahweh aka Positive Energy aka Divine Law aka All in All aka Only Love aka Harmony aka whatever you believe it is that makes this universe the heaven that it is...and behold, it was very good.


I believe religions are like languages. How silly would it be to criticize someone for speaking a different language? In the end, we are saying pretty much the same thing. A higher power or law (for my atheist friends) creates all around us...and it's amazing.


Could you imagine if President Obama asked everyone to pray together today? "Christians to Christ, Muslims to Allah, Jews to Yahweh..." Just that alone would bring the whole world to a higher energy.

J-Toth from Hoth Talks Rap and Frozen Food Section with Tef Poe

River Front Times:

Tef Poe: Explain to us the origin of the name J-Toth from the Planet of Hoth. Also, briefly talk to us about your indie label the Frozen Food Section and the origin of its name.

J-Toth: I, Jonathan Getzschman, started my rap/poet career as 'J to the Getzschman, the name appearing on my checks and, sticking to your memory like wet sand...' Turned out I was wrong, so I pushed 'to the' into 'tothe' as in 'J-Tothe', but that didn't sound right, so I took off the 'e. J-Toth was at that time [1998], living in Summit County Colorado, working and snowboarding in the mountains. Being a Star Wars child, Colorado felt very much like the planet Hoth from the movie Empire Strikes Back, and it rhymed...so J-Toth from Hoth sounded like a rap nerd's dream name. Turned out I was right.

When I began conceiving my record label in 1999, Nelly had just gone platinum, and I was one of the few dissenters who couldn't stand Country Grammar (just my ears, I respect Nelly for his craft). By the time he released his second album, "Hot in Herre" filled the radio waves, and as a competing artist, instead of being hot, I decided I'd rather be cold as hell. So the Frozen Food Section was born with the release of my first album Brainwashing: The Art of Hiphopera and vinyl 12" Chaos and Cannibalism in June of 2002. Aside from being a record label, Frozen Foods is also an artist collective for some of the hip hop, rock, folk and soul of St. Louis. Personally, I rap, sing and make beats, but I also record, mix and master everything that comes out of "The Cooler," our studio.

Exactly what type of music do you create?

I make a mix of hip hop, soul, rock and poetry twisted into a rap format, depending upon which project I'm working on at the time. My first album was 'sci-fi/nerd rap', my second was 'emo rap', my third was 'children's rap', my fourth was 'revolutionary rap', etc. I try to embrace different styles and play with them my way as often as possible.

Most of your projects are concept albums -- have you ever came up with a concept that you felt was pushing the bar too far? Tell us about a time that a particular concept you developed for a song or album was shelved by you for possibly being too extreme or over the top creatively.

The big issue for me, being a white boy is usually race. When I first began, I noticed new listeners could really feel me, or were immediately turned off. Because I don't mask my accent, it often clashes with the expectations of most hip hop fans who are used to hearing rappers 'sound black'. Vanilla Ice fooled many people into going platinum, but once his mask fell off, he fell off. I didn't (and still don't) feel that 'keeping it real' really means, 'front your ASS off.' I'd rather just be me (except when I want to play with alter egos). As far as shelving projects, sure, I have experimented with how to debunk racism and homophobia, by proving how ridiculous they are in music, but it's difficult to do it tastefully without offending somebody. I never officially released 'Do the Whiteboy', but it pokes at some of things people don't like to talk about:

"why ever bother doing stuff that sucks,
'Do What You Like,' (right?) like Humpty Hump, and
that's just what we white boys do, so
don't try to stop me, or I'll find a way to sue, no
dumb shit (true), we learned to stay above it, what we
really love to do is run shit like you, so...(Do the Whiteboy)"

Do the Whiteboy

Which of your albums is your personal favorite and which is the most critically acclaimed?

My favorite album of mine is probably SICK BOYS with DJ Crucial. We've been skateboarding each for 26 years, so we made a collabo for the ages. My most critically acclaimed would be The Lovecycle because I got MF DOOM and Serengeti on it...but I love that one too.

Any last words?

Last words? Yeah, I'm still sitting on an album Tef and I did in 2006...holla.

Do the Whiteboy (GOP theme song)

They all want to know exactly what it’s really like, being white.

[Toth]
Alright, they wanna know. Hey Tucker, Splitface gave this beat that sounds like Frankenstein on acid, so let’s do this like Clueless.

[Tucker]
Do what?

(hook)
Do the whiteboy…Do the whiteboy…
Do the whiteboy…Do the whiteboy…

(Toth) We got the
good, the bad, and we also got the ugly, that’s
Jesus, Hitler and the leaders of our country,
What? Christ wasn’t white? You think I’m wishing? In
that case, in place of the ugly put Mel Gibson.
Anti-semite? Man, don’t play a dummy, be
psyched we got other people managing our money, an-
other race cooks, another cleans clothes, an-
other runs 7-11’s another mows, and
everybody takes their place where they belong, and
loves their job…unless…I could be wrong, but
why ever bother doing stuff that sucks,
“Do What You Like,” (right?) like Humpty Hump, and
that’s just what we white boys do, so
don’t try to stop me, or I’ll find a way to sue, no
dumb shit (true), we learned to stay above it, what we
really love to do is run shit like you, so…

(hook)

(Tucker)
BLAH! Beware the white devil! Ad-
dicted to bass, cause I was raised by the treble, be-
fore hip hop was pop, it was heavy metal, but Met-
allica was too greedy when Napster got settled.
Keep your eyes peeled! I’ll steal your ideas, and
print them in books, so that my people can read ‘em, and
take advantage of missed opportunities that haunt you, since
we don’t HAVE to go to work, we WANT to.
You need me, or else the industry would stop, the
internet would fail, and you wouldn’t get good pot,
80% of your rap sales would drop, but inter-
estingly enough, boot-legging would not. If you
wanna join a team, where the win is guaranteed, leave your
melanin at home or at least bring some bleach, the
greatest trick the devil ever pulled was white hype, don’t for-
get, white rhymes with right, right?

(hook)

(Abe tha Babe) (Do the
whiteboy?) Right boy, get it through your skull, before I
fuck around like John Mayer and get into your soul. We
built this city on Rock-n-Roll, and Chuck
Berry lives here, though he’s awful old. We’re
way past the days of “come here boy,” and re-
placed the Stevie Wonder with Jamirquoi,
Public Enemy’s black-balled for preaching terror, and who
needs Alicia Keys, there’s Christina Aguillera,
Bob Marley WAS in it for the long haul, but we
found UB40 and Snow, then Sean Paul, the
caucasoid’s got it, that’s no reason for hating it, cause
while you’re sitting pissed, my fam’s out making it,
we got exceptions, like those young Eminem’s, but ev-
entually, he made the grade in the end. We
use your music in new ways that’s too clever, cause
anything you can do, I can do better…

Oh whiteboy you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind!
Hey whiteboy! Hey whiteboy!
Oh whiteboy you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind!
Hey whiteboy! Hey whiteboy!
Oh whiteboy you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind!
Hey whiteboy! Hey whiteboy!
Oh whiteboy you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind!
Hey whiteboy! Hey whiteboy!

Daniel 12:10 Many shall be purified, and made WHITE, and tried; but the wicked shall do wickedly: and none of the wicked shall understand; but the wise shall understand.

…and God hath spoken.

Chapter Thirty-One

The phone rang twice before Assange put up his laptop and answered. “Hello?”

“Mr. Assange?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Paula Broadwell.” She let the words sink in.

“Well…to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“To the fact you’re the one guy who can’t get in anymore trouble than you already are.” She waited.

“This line is probably tapped.”

“It doesn’t matter. Anyone listening would know what I know anyways,” said Broadwell. “You got a pen and a few minutes?”

That’s what she said, Assange thought. “Let me check my schedule…yes, I have the time.”

“You need to be aware of some big things going down, and if any of this is considered whistle blower material, please print it as soon as possible.”

“You’re in the media,” Assange replied, “why not take the credit yourself?”

“I’m still military, regardless of what stage,” said Broadwell, “and I’m not trying to become the next Bradley Manning.”

“This won’t be traceable to you?” asked Assange.

“I’ve got links that some careless higher-ups have left open to the public,” Broadwell continued, “but let me sum it up: Karl Rove has been a very bad boy.”

Assange smiled. “Do tell.”

“First, the Benghazi charade all stems back to him. General Petraeus was used by Rove to get the goods on resources in the middle east. Second, the internal struggles going on within the Ecuador government and military are a result of Rove using his influence to force those sympathetic to you out. Third, Rove attempted to use his ORCA network during the election to affect vote tallies on a national scale, but he was thwarted by associates of Anonymous.”

Assange’s smile widened. “Really? I thought my peeps would’ve bragged to me about that one by now.”

“It went unverified until an hour ago,” Broadwell replied, “apparently, they got scared when Rove found out. They put up a firewall around his network on election day. He tried over a hundred times to hack the national voting database, and he would’ve too, but thanks to a handful of do-gooders, the tallies went untainted…at least from Rove’s end. Did you get to see him on election night? He was freaking out. He kept commenting that the election ‘wasn’t over yet.’ FOX News was certainly waiting for him to pull a rabbit out of the hat.”

“A $300 million dollar one at that.” Assange paused, “thanks for the links. Should I assume your relationship with Petraeus is all subterfuge?”

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out…but keep in mind, I’ll be watched closely from now on, so I doubt I will be able to communicate with you again. Good luck sir, you are an inspiration to the rest of us.” She hung up.

Assange sighed. Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

Power vs. Power

Instead of calling it Democrats vs. Republicans, I'm willing to call it what it is: power vs. power. The one who gets my vote will come down to which power is more respectful and respectable. I appreciate leaders who want to work together and make us harmonious, and I want nothing to do with partisan politics.

Lincoln repped the GOP hard, and I'm grateful for him.

FDR repped the Dems hard, and I'm grateful for him.

Unfortunately, since Eisenhower, the Republicans have been hijacked by predatory capitalists who give capitalism a bad name. Until they change their methods of "team work," I would rather create WIN-WIN solutions with nice people who respect each other.

Whatever party does that will get my vote.

Chapter Thirty

Air Force One landed in Springfield, New Hampshire. The house of Petraeus was quiet. The President’s secret service knocked. His wife opened the door.

“Yes? Oh my, I guess you want to speak with David.”

The President moved past his men to hug her. “How are you Holly?”

Her eyes glazed over a bit. She managed a “fine, but I liked it better when David worked in the military. The games the CIA plays is unnerving.”

“For you and your family, the worst is over.” The president looked into her eyes, “I can’t tell you anything more, but please trust your husband. He’s a good man.”

She cried. “Thanks Mr. President.”

“May I speak with him privately?” asked the President.

“Of course. Please come in.”

General Petraeus was waiting in his robe. “Mr. President, good to see you.” They shook hands. “Honey, do you mind if I show off your gardens?”

“I’m sure they’re nothing compared to Michelle’s,” she replied, “but please enjoy.”

The President strolled thru hydrangeas and roses with Petraeus. The secret service posted up in the tulips and the violets. The air was a sweet mix of autumn leaves and burning wood. When they were far enough away from the house, they moved on from small talk.

“What’s good?” asked the President.

“Unfortunately, not the CIA.” Petraeus sighed. “I’m grateful the FBI was willing to play this out. Holly’s embarrassed, but she’ll be ok. My biographer, Paula Broadwell is willing to go along with this until it’s done, but I’m sure her husband is uncomfortable.”

“I’ll give her a job when this all calms down,” said the President.

Petraeus nodded, “I’ll get to the gist. Rove ok’d Benghazi. It was supposed to be their ‘October Surprise’ for you while tying up several loose ends:

1. Ambassador Stevens knew too much about the gold being looted from Libya, and being gay didn’t help his cause any. He was getting good information from the natives about who was involved, and it turned out to be mostly Bush/Cheney people. Once he showed his true colors, he became ‘fair game’.
2. That Mohammed parody was funded by GOP election money thru Rove. They got Sam Bacile to take the fall, but he’s also pleading the fifth. The demonstrations all over the middle east were instigated by agents sympathetic to the right wing, but it almost backfired. Most protesters showed up to denounce the assassination of Stevens and didn’t care about the film. Agents were able to video enough U.S. flag burning to make up for lack of actual participation.
3. Romney had prior knowledge of the attacks in Benghazi and was advised by Rove to squeeze you during the debates. He almost jumped the gun when he tweeted about it seconds after it happened. Only a few people noticed how impossibly informed he was, but they’ve been silenced.
4. Republicans tried to spin this as your fault immediately, but between the Libyans knowing the truth and Americans used to these games being played, the only part of the population who agreed were a handful of their own constituents. Congratulations sir, you beat them.”

“Governor Christie helped, and he’s likely to take some heat from the GOP too.” The President furrowed his brow, “I don’t like what they did to Stevens. That’s inexcusable. What’s the legal outlook on Rove? Can he be held accountable?”

Petraeus shrugged, “The people involved are too compartmentalized, but his influence is shrinking after spending $300 million to defeat you and not having squat to show for it. It might be better to continue surveillance. If he keeps abusing his diplomatic immunity in the name of partisan politics, he may slip up.”

The President thought for a moment. “This all leads to daddy Bush doesn’t it?”

Petraeus paused, “I believe ‘Poppy’ is still ‘in the shit’ if that’s what you mean. He contributed more secret money to Romney than anyone else, but he’s got other problems.”

“Oh?” asked the President.

Petraeus lowered his voice, “More evidence keeps surfacing about his past…and the CIA keeps having to hide it. It’s like J.E. Hoover got a kick out of leaving Easter eggs for future generations to marvel at.”

“Does it concern ‘the big event’?”

Petraeus didn’t blink. “During my time at the CIA, although I was kept in the dark, it became quite clear, George H.W. Bush was part of the team that assassinated John F. Kennedy in Dallas, 1963.”

The President closed his eyes. “Thank you David. You’ve served your country well. Keep your family safe. I’ve got some work to do.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The door to the Assange’s room in the Ecuadorian embassy exploded open, no smoke, just broken hinges on the floor. The power dimmed and cut out. Karl Rove stood in the entrance.

“You could’ve just knocked.” Assange got up from his seat. “I’ve never experienced it before, but that felt like some of the new electro magnetic pulse trigger entry technology...the EMPTE, I believe?”

“You’re coming with me now,” said Rove.

“No,” replied Assange, “actually, I am currently receiving political asylum from Ecuador, and no matter how much you attempt to intimidate me, I will not freely give up my rights.”

“You are currently conspiring with enemies of the United States and sharing information with international terrorists.” Rove continued to stand in the entry. “Let’s go.”

Assange stared at him from across the room. “If you mean I am cooperating with the rest of the world that does not agree with your people, you are correct, but that in itself is not illegal. Likewise, I do share information with protest groups and whistleblower agencies of government, but they are by no means ‘terrorists’ even if you are trying to get legislation passed that says otherwise.”

“We have your fingerprints all over some new 9-11 leaks streaming on youtube (http://youtu.be/n_fp5kaVYhk). That’s a lot of classified information not allowed for public view, sponsored by you. Come out and disprove me.”

“I don’t do 9-11,” Assange said.

“You don’t do 9-11 because you don’t want be sloughed off as another crazy train patron,” Rove responded. “Don’t lie to me, I know.”

Assange bit his lip for a second. “If 9-11 is exactly how your people purport it to be, why are you so paranoid?”

Rove glowered. “You know exactly what happened on 9-11, and I know you know, because I know everything! National security is the only reason I need to take you out, so unless you want me to put unnecessary pressure on you thru others you may or may not care about, I suggest martyrdom as soon as possible. Follow me.”

Assange sat back down. “I also don’t do blackmail Mr. Rove. If you’ll excuse me, I have some very important work to do.” Assange paused, “By the way, I noticed you do a lot of clandestine work yourself Karl. The amount of time you’ve spent on 9-11 witnesses alone is staggering. There is a curious amount of coincidental deaths within those witnesses. Last I looked, more 9-11 witnesses have died before they could submit testimony than have survived and made it to court. Your whereabouts during those years are dubious even on the DoJ database. Cheeky Karl, you are a shadow.”

“I don’t do blackmail either ass face,” Karl waited. “What else do you know?”

Assange smiled. “I know you have ordered the deaths of thousands of ‘insurgents’ whether they were Afghanis, Iraqis or even Americans on U.S. soil in the name of ‘national security’ although it's debatable whether any of those Americans were actually insurgents or just those unlucky enough to possess too much info about 9-11. I know thru your ties to the Bush family you were able to loot the World Trade Center gold supply, Iraqi gold in Baghdad, and Gaddafi’s Libyan gold reserves, and I know you get illegal oil money from those regions. If all goes well in Iran, I know you will get a nice chunk from their oil too.” Assange paused. “Unless you're going to be master of your technology, it doesn’t matter how many advantages you have on the rest of us. We will always find out what you are up to…always.”

Rove fumed, “we’ll see if you can keep up with us from your room here. You’re still grounded. That reminds me, say some prayers for your mum.” He stormed out.

Assange heard voices in Spanish yelling from the halls. Several embassy soldiers finally arrived at his door.

“Es ok senior Assange?” asked one of them.

Assange reached behind his desk and pressed stop on his old school analog recorder. The tape was unaffected by the EMP earlier. He rewound the tape and listened. Rove came thru loud and clear.

“Si, es ok mi amigo. Gracias.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The president was glum. If there is a dark side to this job, it’s deceit, he thought. His first term was almost up, and change had been slow in coming mostly due to the Republicans’ obstructionist policies. It was tough playing bipartisan in the viper pit that is Washington, but he didn’t realize how many of those snakes would blatantly bite him again…and again. Well maybe he did, but it still didn’t make it any less disappointing.

Stay the course.

Prayer was his mainstay. He wasn’t overly religious, but he valued how calm and clear he got during his meditations. It always made him smile to think of Lincoln’s words, “if you didn’t pray before you were president…” WOW. The first day in office his hair started graying. Secrets tend to do that. Before he was elected, he prided himself on transparency. Within his first year of office, it was reported his administration was more secretive than any previous. Well, a deal’s a deal, even if the other party reneged again…and again. This president fulfilled his obligations because he was a good man. How many are left?

He called one.

The phone rang twice. “Hello, Mr. President.”

“Hello, Mr. Powell. How’s life?”

“Boring,” said Powell, “but from where I come from, it’s worth its weight in gold. How is the most thankless job in the world?”

“Thankless.” The president paused.

“You want to talk?” asked Powell.

“Please. Can you meet at the park in an hour?”

“I can meet sooner…”

“My secret service will have to roll with me,” replied the President, “so I’ll need about that.”

An hour later, they strolled together with a perimeter of agents and a flock of pigeons following. “Sorry I didn’t bring any food guys,” said the President. The pigeons didn’t seem to mind and accompanied him anyway.

“So, how bad is it?” asked Powell.

The president sighed. “It sucks man. I’m staying the course, but it’s really depressing sometimes. Remind me why I’m still playing nice?”

“Accountability,” replied Powell. “You held up your end of the bargain, they didn’t. They bet on you being a one-termer. You’re about to foil them. Their power will be the weakest when the People want change the most…then it’s on like Donkey Kong.”

“You were right about them.”

“I know,” said Powell. “I had to swim with ‘em for eight years. I’m glad I made it out alive.”

“Dolphins know how to outsmart sharks.”

“It’s because sharks are so obvious. Eat, be sneaky, look scary, stick together when there’s danger, kill each other when it’s gone. Dolphins are better teammates, and they live in joy. Sharks just want more.”

The President frowned, “some of my constituents think I’m a shark now.”

“Let them,” continued Powell. “That’ll only make it more joyful when you come back around to their expectations. You finished the first leg and established yourself as a respectful, responsible leader who knows right from wrong and treats women as human beings. Congress’ popularity is the lowest in history, and that gives you People power…lots of dolphins.”

“When I make moves next term, ‘shock and awe’ will take on a whole new meaning.” The president smiled, “what can I expect from the sharks?”

“Hunger,” replied Powell. “The great whites will be united as never before, but so will the dolphins, and there are many more of them.”

“Will we ever be able to just get along?” wondered the President.

“Ever heard of a shark going vegan?” asked Powell. “Me neither.”

NEW VIDEO: "Romancing the Grindstone"

(from the album BOOK OF TOTH by Jonathan Toth from Hoth)


Schnicked up at the Sprint store, dropping bills, copping minutes,
sucking bio-diesel, while my Honda’s huffing gas.
She’s such a bad van, and she’s got a lotta figure,
so bad, she still sports an Obama sticker.

Remember those days, on the brink of change?
We were dancing in the streets when they announced his name,
but after watching politicians go back to their old
ways, it’s like GOD DAMN, more of the same.

They tricked us again, so many false hopes,
was it human nature that choked or the media hoax,
that replaces truth with some public anecdotes,
about how ‘we’ feel, speaking up for us common folks.

I don’t know about you…but I never
asked to be spoken for by the f*cking news.
I put him in office for the bigger view, and he’s
got eight years to do what the last guy didn’t do.

Oh, you don’t remember? You sure better G,
or get served like the rest with short term memory,
who let their news team turn their destiny
into anger, and not bother to learn the rest of things,

like, who in control would want to cause unrest with things,
and are you mad about the past or the present things?
I’m still getting over the last guy who made a mess of things.
Maybe it’s really him who you want to burn in effigy.

You know the media gets paid right?
to state and/or claim what it’s owner wants it to say,
especially nowadays, right Rupert? When your
boys get voted out of office, time for a power-play:

push the public into a dour game, of
playing with our emotions and coaching our pain…

…unless we don’t want to play…
turn a loss into a gain and tell ‘em not again,
spare the rod, spoil the child, guess they won’t learn a lot.
My favorite way to punish is to turn ‘it’ off.

They can’t dictate my dictum,
with rants and raves that pander to victims,
profiteering off fear and indecision, with
no answers or solutions, just sheer bitchin’.

So I let the chaff fall by the wayside,
and keep the wheat in my stash for a great ride,
and cast my pearls before people of the same Mind,
cause when my man says it’s on, it’s GAME TIME…

…we did it once, for the right reason,
saw through the propaganda, and the cheatin’,
the sidetracks, the lies, and deceivin’,
and won…and seeing is believing,

but power itself isn’t beyond treason, and
those opposed to change don’t like what they’re seeing.
So stay focused and back it with that active reason,
cause since JFK it’s been flack jacket season.


FREE DOWNLOAD:
http://jonathantothfromhoth.bandcamp.com/album/book-of-toth

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Assange’s days at the Ecuadorian embassy were accumulating. He had always liked London, a city of the ages that held so much history and so many secrets. Life was still stressful, and his room in the embassy was not much of a sanctuary, but he was grateful for it, especially since the U.S. had just upgraded his status to ‘enemy of the state.’ On a promotional note, Lady Gaga stopped by the week before, and regardless of what the gossip columns and tabloids were saying about them, people were talking…and that was good.

He didn’t hear a knock at his door, but he knew someone was there. He looked around, wondering how he came to that conclusion. Incredulous, he finally asked, “who is it?”

“I’m a friend,” said a voice he had never heard before. Assange could be a nervous nelly, but he didn’t feel any fear. He opened the door. The elderly man standing in front of him glowed with soft light. His hair was white and his smile was genuine. “My name is Michael Quinsey, and I’d like to speak with you.”

“Hello Michael, I guess you know me,” said Assange, “who are you?”

“I am what some call a light worker, and I’ve seen some interesting things that concern you.”

Assange fought the temptation to roll his eyes. “I see.”

“You do,” replied Michael, “and you will. Part of my work is thru channeling, and I’d like to share with you what I’ve been learning.”

“You channel spirits?” asked Assange.

“Some call them spirits, some call them the ancients…I prefer ‘celestial sources’.” Michael continued, “there is plenty of science on the matter, but I’d rather show you first hand to prove it.”

Assange grinned. He could tell something was up, and it felt authentic. His instincts tingled, without risk, there is no gain. “Alright. How should we begin?”

Michael pulled up a chair in the cramped office. “Sit here and empty your mind of any outside influence. I’ll sit across from you, and I’m going to let SaLuSa, a source, reveal some things.”

Assange sat down and relaxed. He immediately felt safe, and Michael began channeling.

“Julian Assange, I am SaLuSa. I see your motive, and it is pure. You are an inspiration, and your work is changing the world. Your light is similar to your brother, President Obama, who is also a soul of immense light under great stress from the dark Ones, giving his services without thought for self.”

Assange’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean by ‘my brother’?”

Michael smiled and SaLuSa continued, “you and Obama are brothers working together to oust the dark Ones from power. Your conversations are changing the course of history, and the world is following your example.”

Assange felt heat spreading thru his body. Could this guy really have seen them talking?

“Yes, I enjoy your conversations,” replied SaLuSa, as if he heard him, “and I will be there when you do so again.”

“How can you see us?” asked Assange, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.

“I can see anything I focus on, including your martyr and friend Bradley Manning, but you have no need to worry. I am here to further Love and nothing else. Whether you know it or not, you and Obama are highly spiritual souls, who with our help and protection will speedily transform the world’s experiences into ones of happiness and release mankind from the draconian laws that rule your lives.”

Assange was hit with a wave of emotion. He almost began crying. “You know this?”

“There are days to come when at a single stroke the U.S. President shall astound his critics by the changes he will authorize. No President of late has been one specifically chosen by the people, and therefore his decisions will reflect that aspect of his appointment…and you will live to see it.”

“Thank you SaLuSa,” replied Assange, clearly shaken, but energized.

Michael abruptly stood, his trance apparently ended. He embraced Assange and stared deep into his eyes. “Thank you.”

Karl Rove sat deep inside the Pentagon next to the aide showing him the surveillance tapes of the Ecuadorian embassy. “No, thank YOU.”

Chapter Twenty-six

“They have to be working together!” There, Cheney said it. “There are too many coincidences between Obama and Assange going on. Their ideals, backgrounds and practices are similar enough that I want more checks of their whereabouts on dates when they could have met!”

Rove rolled his eyes and wondered if Cheney was finally losing what little sanity he had left. He looked older than he did just from their last meeting. He noticed his hair line was continuing to disappear into the back of his head. Was that a coincidence? The pigeons didn’t care. They flocked to Dick for the free popcorn.

“Don’t you get it?” Cheney continued, “he’s about to win a second term, and the GOP is more toxic than ever. Most of our guys are gonna be tossed into the wind, and that’s too many leak-pluggers leaving. All it will take is for Obama to switch his stance on whistle blowers and the ship WILL go down!”

“There, there Dick,” Rove attempted a soothing voice, “we have plenty of time for damage control when the time comes. I can’t say I entirely agree with you, but I am concerned about Assange and his Ecuadorian stand-off. He’s too at home in life and death situations…I bet he’s a new level of ADHD.”

“Does he take medication?” Cheney asked.

“No,” Rove rolled his eyes again, “and no, we aren’t going to try to poison him in the embassy.”

“Come on Karl!” Cheney looked agitated. “We’ve got to look at the big picture. Assange is making whistle blowing look cool, and HE’S STILL ALIVE! In 2009, it was cute, but it’s 2012 now…what the fuck does the most powerful country in the world have to do wipe him off the map?”

“We need leverage,” Rove looked up from under his brow, “and I believe the murder of Chris Stevens may be enough.”

“The Libyan ambassador?” Cheney’s eyes darted around the park and his hands shook. You gotta pull yourself together, thought Rove. You’re a shark that’s scared of a firefly.

“Wasn’t that guy taken out to make Obama look vulnerable?”

“That’s one level of seeing it,” said Rove, “but what else was Stevens known for?”

“Get to the point man! I’m not in the mood for rhetorical questions!”

Rove sighed and continued. “Stevens wrote several government cables concerning Libya and Qaddafi, WikiLeaks published them, and considering all that talk about putting Americans’ lives in danger…”

Cheney instantly brightened. “We finally have a precedent! Karl, you’re a genius! You are still the Architect! Good old Turd Blossom!” He continued to shake.

“Why kill only one bird with a stone when you can kill two?”
Cheney was out of popcorn, so he balled up the bag and tossed it at the flock in front of him. The pigeons easily dodged his attack and continued to titter amongst themselves.

Give the Job Creators a Tax Break

Here's an idea: for "job creators", how about tax cuts based progressively on how many people they can employ? The more people they employ, the less taxes they pay.


Wouldn't that make the Republicans excited about hiring people again?

Occupy [VIDEO]

In 2011, Egyptians in Cairo took over Tahrir Square and held it until the masses swelled to over a million. The government was overthrown, setting a precedent known as 'Arab Spring'. Tunisia and Libya were likewise liberated with this new form of revolution spreading across the world:

Occupyyyyyyyy...Occupyyyyyy...
Occupyyyyyyyy...Occupyyyyyy...

Is it apocalypse? Yeah right. A
‘lifting of the veil’ that might
change the way the masses have rights, the
'powers that be' see it, as spite.

The ninety-nine percent, can fight, the
other one percent, has might, in
media, tv, and type, and
laws they rearrange, and write.

But we've been getting hip, to that reich, and
banksters that equip, bad guys, when
politicians gift, that side, it's
time to cut adrift, of that ride.

Persecute the rich, that bite,
more than they can chew, and slice,
more than few have paid, that price, you
can't kill an idea, that's right.

Occupyyyyyyyy...Occupyyyyyy...
Occupyyyyyyyy...Occupyyyyyy...

Occupy your town, right there,
voice your freedom of speech, fight fair, a
lot of politicians, might swear, they're
'doing the right thing,' like YEAH!?!

'I have a dream,' right here, with
Martin Luther King-like flair,
what's the point of saying, your kind cares, when
all you're doing is making, our nightmares?

Julian Assange, my man,
transparent government, nice plan,
Revolution Truth, my fam,
Anonymous, the youth, the right stand,

President Obama, might have, the
hope and change we wanted, last year, the
time to act is now, with our peers, no
need to fight the Right, just our fears.

Chapter Twenty-five

The Secretary of Defense met with the President aboard Air-Force One. It was early on the morning after 9-11, and the day had already reached international tension. The Libyan Embassy was attacked by men claiming Americans had ridiculed Mohammed in a movie, and they wanted blood. Several Americans were dead, including the ambassador.

“Good morning Leon.” The President looked tired. “What’s the situation?”

“Danger,” replied the secretary. “Some low-budget movie depicting Mohammed as a fool, a philanderer and a religious fake was produced last year and it’s finally making the rounds.”

“Last year?” asked the President. “Why so troubling now?”

“Some asshole translated it into Egyptian Arabic last week and put it up on youtube.”

The President rolled his eyes. “What do we know?”

The secretary pulled out some notes. “It was written, produced and directed by Egyptian American Nakoula Basseley Nakoula, using the pseudonyms of ‘Sam Bacile’ and ‘Alan Roberts’ and financed by his family. Nakoula is a convicted felon who wrote the script while incarcerated in federal prison for bank fraud. Yesterday, that lunatic pastor Terry Jones premiered it for his church in Florida, and blogger Morris Sadek, whose Egyptian citizenship had been revoked for promoting calls for an attack on Egypt, posted it all over the web.”

The President thought for a second. “What else do we know?”

“Men showed up at the embassy yelling and cursing America, burning our flag and doing the usual rigmarole, but then they left and came back with RPG’s and mortars. Ambassador Stevens and several other staffers were killed. On the bright side, witnesses didn’t drag their bodies thru the streets, they took them to the nearest hospital.”

The President thought again. “What do we think?”

“This doesn’t look like a spontaneous Libyan uprising, it looks more like a flash mob…the CIA kind. They knew security was lax, what windows to fire RPG's at and where Stevens was inside the building. The protestors today are regular people unlike the guys that waged the attack, and Libyans are putting up memes of themselves on Facebook apologizing to America.”

"Did Stevens know something he shouldn't?"

"That, I don't know," replied the secretary.

“Hmmm…do you think we’re still dealing with our little ‘problem’ over there?” asked the President.

“In my opinion, yes, I believe these are rogue elements of the CIA acting on extreme right-wing objectives in the middle-east. If there ever was any truth to al-Qaeda being created by the US, this could be proof. They want war, and more American martyrs on 9-11 would be a great place for them to regroup. This was a military operation arranged around the film with full intent of enraging Muslims all over the world.”

“What if it goes deeper than that?”

The secretary stared at the President. “What do you mean?”

“Julian Assange is sitting in an embassy,” said the President. “If a handful of people can destroy a US embassy like it was nothing and escape, what would stop others from doing the same in England?”

Ties to the Banks...

I would like the USA to return to Abraham Lincoln's monetary system of "Greenbacks". According to this documentary, "The Money Masters," (1996) when our currency is printed by us (not a bank like the Federal Reserve), backed by our country's worth (not gold or credit) with limited printing (only according to statistical growth), the entire country benefits economically and flourishes because of the transparency of value.

On the other hand, when banks (like the Federal Reserve-a private company) print our money, (even though the government can), charge us interest (which comes from our tax dollars) and manipulate interest rates, mortgage rates, inflation, deflation, speculation, stock markets, our military, our government and even our big businesses...




it's no wonder they would rather keep their power than allow us pure financial freedom based on our actual worth.

Ask Abraham Lincoln...oh wait, you can't. He was shot and killed by a man with ties to the banks.

Ask John F. Kennedy...oh wait, you can't. He was shot and killed by men with ties to the banks.

Ask the record number of stock holders who shorted their stocks the week before 9-11...oh wait, you can't. The government won't allow the public to read who had forewarning that the market would crash...




they have ties to the banks.
Now the question is, which banks?




Watch the Documentary: The Money Masters (1996)

What is Obama's Motive?

Barack Obama lived thru these presidents:

1. JFK (1961-1963): Kennedy fought for civil rights and was about to take out the FED and the CIA when he was assassinated. Obama is 2-years-old.

2. Lyndon Johnson (1963-1969): passed Civil Rights acts of 1964 that JFK began. MLK is assassinated when Obama is 8-years-old.

3. Richard Nixon (1969-1974): ultimate stooge for special interests (he owed everyone), Vietnam FAIL, Watergate FAIL. Impeached when Obama is 12-years-old.

4. Gerald Ford (1974-1976): even worse stooge for the Rockefellers (remember Chevy Chase's impression of him on SNL?) Obama is in middle school.

5. Jimmy Carter (1976-1980): a Democrat who actually cared, but he fought the right, and got nothing but stalwarts until he was pushed out. Obama is in high school.

6. Ronald Reagan (1980-1988): another stooge for the FBI, and allowed George Bush Sr. to do Iran/Contras, the crack trade thru Los Angeles and other questionable operations. Obama is in college, graduates and become a Chicago community organizer.

7. George Bush Sr. (1988-1992): ex-CIA head, friend of E. Howard Hunt (who admitted to the JFK assassination on his death bed) and connected to all big families that run the world. Obama enters Harvard Law, two law firms and becomes the first black president of the Harvard Law Review.

8. Bill Clinton (1992-2000): smart hillbilly who won the hearts of women even tho he was a philanderer, hated by the right. Obama teaches Constitutional Law at University of Chicago Law School for the next decade and becomes a state Senator in '97.

9. George Bush Jr. (2000-2008): the biggest stooge of all the above presidents listed, stole both elections, 9-11 FAIL, enabled the Patriot Act, war in Iraq and Afghanistan and FAILed America during Katrina. Obama becomes a US Senator in '04.



After growing up thru all this (and certainly finding out about all the dark sides of government) what makes more sense? Obama wants to continue the same old bullshit, or Obama wants to change it for the better?



That was a rhetorical question.

Modern Day Reconstruction (Post Bank Bail-out)

After the civil war, Congress passed the Reconstruction Acts of 1867. This was to rebuild the country while allowing ex-slaves the chance to enter into government, start their own businesses and blossom ("40 acres and a mule" were given to some as a way of starting farms). They did great, phenomenal even. They did so well that many white southerners decided their country was being taken over by blacks. By the mid 1870s, half the country was considering another civil war because of racist fear mongering propaganda. Jim Crow laws began in 1876 as a result, and blacks were pulled from government as well as businesses and by 1880, the South was almost plunged back to slavery again.

When a judge like Tom Head in Lubbock County, TX, tells the media there will be civil war if Obama is re-elected (and he's a JUDGE!) it can only be an attempt at stirring up the latent racism in angry Americans. That's lame, and if the GOP decides to play games like that, they are worthless. Please disregard any political candidate (Dems or GOP) who would prey upon our fears or weaknesses.

Primal Man and the GOP

I can sum up the current political strategy of fear mongering in two words: latent racism. It's the easiest way to an angry white man's heart.

Political Energy: Tales of the Face

For me, it's more of an energy thing. I don't know if any of you see auras or energy, but I'll put it like this: Since I've been alive, Reagan had charismatic, yet fake energy, Bush Sr. had dark/dangerous energy, Clinton had little-kid-in-a-candystore energy, Bush Jr. had scared/confused energy and Obama has bright energy. In the book "Blink" by Malcolm Gladwell, the author has a whole section on a scientist who used to be able to read people's history just by their face. It feels that way for me.

The other big deal to me is Obama's life as a black kid being raised during Martin Luther King. It's pretty hard to come up in that atmosphere and then turn around to be a stoolie for government (like many people feel). Imo, he's just seeking harmony between the parties (and the populace), but of course, that's pushing the GOP further away, because they don't want him to succeed at anything.

If you watch how slanted the Tea Party, FOX NEWS, Bill O'Reilly, Palin, Hannity, Beck, and many others are towards Obama, it's unjustified and geared at making all this look like his fault, when they are the same people who allowed the Bush administration to run wild for 8 years...and they know it (and that's why they point the finger so quickly).

The adage "thanks for blaming the black guy" plays out so well for average Americans because most have no idea their latent racism is egging this thing along. The GOP is the best at fear mongering, and they pimp that shit.

Anywho, if their was no Obama, I'd be voting for Ron Paul, but you see how slimy the Republicans have been to him, and the fact that it's now come out that he actually WON the Iowa caucus, shows how far the GOP will go to keep a stoolie (Romney) in place, so they get their agenda done.



"The Newsroom" on HBO has the best breakdown I've ever heard of the GOP. I recommend watching the entire season.

Read this article on "The Newsroom" by Anthony Venutolo

Presidential Strategic Theory

President Obama is seeking unity by "working with" the Republicans. Taking the high road is worth it, if it comes natural and honorably, but with strategy in mind, think of how Cheney and Bush abused the trust of the right wing. After the last administration, wouldn't you want to work with the new guy who attempts to re-instill a working relationship? If Obama fights them, he'll spend all his energy working against a power, instead of WITH a power. The military (big brass anyways) loves him now because he's giving them latitude to finish their work and not anger another sector (although last I heard, 80% of the regular military is voting for Ron Paul). He hasn't raised taxes and (so far) has allowed Wall Street a chance to change their ways (although we know many banks haven't).

When he was first elected, I wanted him to go after the bad guys like JFK tried to do, but I realized if he did, he most likely would've been assassinated like JFK. To make real change, what do you do instead? Befriend the bad guys to see who wants to work together (while alienating himself from his base), hold them accountable (to show the public what they are up to), make the People mad (get them bubbling) and voila! WE ACTUALLY GIVE A SHIT NOW.

It's up to us to make change.

If you want to call it what it is, Obama is more of a hegemon (like in the novels of Orson Scott Card) than a president. He'd rather find common ground and work with everyone than be partisan and try to bully the rest of America into submission.

He also knows, the final decision is OURS.

I think the above advertisement goes deeper than most think...especially since it's not trying to advance himself, it's about us advancing US.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Assange was awakened by a loud banging on the Embassy door. It was four in the morning. A bit unnerved, Assange crept to the entrance cautiously. He looked for a weapon…papers, old laptops, a chair. He chuckled at himself and sighed. “Whatever.” He opened the door a smidgeon. “Yes?”

“Greetings and salutations brother!” said Anon #1. He bowed, revealing a blonde wig behind his Guy Fawkes mask. “We’re here to rescue you in the name of the People, right under the nose of fascism.”

Assange smiled, “you and what army?”

Anon #2 threw open the door. “This one sir!” Assange peered outside. Hundreds of people in masks and blonde wigs filled the streets in front of the embassy.

“You guys are…” Assange’s voice hitched, “awesome. But I can’t go.”

“What do mean?!?” cried Anon #4. “The time is ripe, and the night coppers are preoccupied by a sighting of you near Crystal Palace on the other side of the river. You’ve got an army of volunteers here at your beck and call, AND we’ve got safe houses all over the country.”

“It’ll be life imitating art imitating life,” said Anon #5, glasses clearly visible behind his mask. “Just like ‘V for Vendetta’!”

“Hold on,” said Anon #6, who chose a dyed blonde crew cut (JA hair-do ver. 3.0). “Guy Fawkes never wore a bloody mask. He was no pussy.”

“You’re biased,” replied Anon #5. “You’ve got tart on the brain.”

“She never could separate business from leisure,” chimed Anon #3.

#5 rolled his eyes, “That’s pleasure.”

“Chaps, stick to the subject.” Assange continued, “I can’t go with you. The police will be back any moment, and regardless, this place is wired for sound and there are cameras on every block.”

“We got laser pointers on all of ‘em!” whined Anon #2. “Please Sir Julian…”

“Don’t call me Sir Julian.”

“But,” pleaded #2, eyes watering, “we’ve had so little time with you. ‘Please sir, I want some more’.”

“That’s very cute Oliver, but before you begin singing ‘Where is Love?’ I suggest you pack up the entourage and scatter before a S.W.A.T. team gets here.”

“But the laser pointers…”

“Won’t show them shite, but will alert them that we are here,” concluded Anon #1. “Sorry Jules, we thought this was the right thing to do, but if you think it’s too impulsive, we will wait for a better opportunity.”

“You chaps are ‘A’ grade material, and I appreciate the help, but I’ll need more time before we pull a stunt like this. I’ve got some business with Ecuador to handle before I make any moves out of here.” Police sirens began wailing in the distance. “Come on lads, you don’t have much time.”

“All right you miscreants!” yelled Anon #1. “We’re pissing off, but let’s leave ‘em with a song!”

The crowd about-faced and began marching. “When you walk through a storm hold your head up high, and don’t be afraid of the dark. At the end of a storm is a golden sky, and the sweet silver song of a lark. Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain, tho’ your dreams be tossed and blown. Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart and you’ll never walk alone, you’ll never, ever walk alone.”

The S.W.A.T. team barreled right into the heart of the mob, yanking masks left and right. Julian watched from the door and fought back tears.

“Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart, and you’ll never walk alone, you’ll never, ever walk alone!”

Chapter Twenty-three

[Tuesday, November 6, 2012]
“My fellow Americans, brothers, sisters, human beings…Earthlings (laughs),” the president paused. “thank you for electing me once again. In gratitude to all that is happening, before I tell you guys some things, I’d like to pause for a moment of silence. Within this moment, please pray to the Good that you believe in. Whether that Good is Jesus, Yaweh, Mohammed, Brahman, Buddha or just positive energy, please join me…”

(silence)

The President continued. “I’ve done a lot of thinking, and I’ve done a lot of praying. It seems to me that the time has come for our whole planet to unite as one, and it doesn’t have to be difficult. Religions are beginning to reach out to each other and understand one another. The internet is creating a real-time bond in business and recreation between people who would otherwise never meet each other. Although it seems as if we are separate individuals and very different, science is realizing this entire reality is our choice. We are actually one life force, united by energy, atoms and emotions. This is also known as Love. It is Love that holds our families and countries together. It is Love that drives our economy. It is love that enables us be harmonious and it is Love that gave us this paradise equipped with oxygen, food, water, life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

“So what’s wrong? Why do we have war? Why do many starve when few have more than enough to eat? Why is wealth hoarded? Why can’t we all just ‘get along?’

“The answer is fear…fear of being weak…fear of not having enough…fear of being held accountable…fear of being oppressed…but it’s all an illusion.

“Love is the truth. Fear is the lack of love and consequently, a lie. Love is, fear isn’t. When FDR said, “we have nothing to fear except fear itself,” he meant once you get over the act of being afraid, it’s gone. That self-preserving quality might have been necessary when we were cavemen, but we aren’t cavemen anymore. We are Americans, we are Russians, we are Iranians, we are Mexicans, we are Chinese, we are Africans, we are Europeans, but most importantly, we are humans beings, and we need each other, so let’s be gentle.

“I was raised during the time of Martin Luther King. He had a dream where children of all races could play together and be treated equally. I was one of those children. I saw our country’s consciousness expand into understanding and empathy for all, regardless of creed or color. I watched the civil rights movement work, and it was worth it…but we’re not finished yet.

“It’s time for our next leap of faith. It’s time for amnesty for transparency.

“I, Barack Hussein Obama, am offering amnesty to any American soldier who refuses to kill another human being. You will not be court-martialed for standing up to murder, and any information you share about wrong-doings within the military may not be used against you. To set this precedent, I am freeing Bradley Manning for blowing the whistle on questionable behavior by our military.

“I, Barack Hussein Obama, am offering amnesty to any American politician who has witnessed or engaged in corruption within our government. Secrets are a cancer that has been growing within our system for decades, and our country cannot exist as a free society until those secrets are acknowledged and scrutinized. To set this precedent, I am releasing Jack Abramoff from his probation for blowing the whistle on the illegitimate practices of the lobbying industry.

“I, Barack Hussein Obama, am offering amnesty to anyone in the American job force who has witnessed or engaged in unethical or immoral practices within our big businesses. The United States flourishes when capitalism is practiced open and honestly without back-room allegiances and monopolistic mentality. To set this precedent, I am releasing Sam Israel III for blowing the whistle on the banking industry and stock exchange.

“As a final farewell to primal mankind, I also declare war illegal. No longer will the United States kill in the name of freedom. No longer will the world look at us as the controllers of life and death. No longer will we rationalize murder as an option…Love is the only option.

“America…ARE YOU WITH ME?” (cheers)

The president awoke with a smile on his face. “Someday baby…someday.” He thanked God and went back to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Two

[Tuesday, November 6, 2012]
“We’re entering a new age,” continued the President during his reelection speech, “the People are getting hip to how far power will go to push us around. It’s nothing new, but the boundaries are getting bigger. Torture, something that was once thought to be un-American, inhumane and immoral, has been embraced by aggressive members of this government and military, in order to match the amoral methods of our enemies (current and past). Capitalism, our tried and true means of livelihood, went from decades of prosperity to being tainted by the repeal of Glass–Steagall in ’97 so the big whigs could once again play with our money as they did before the Great Depression. Transparency, honor and good business have been replaced by secrecy, distortions of facts and the predatory practice of taking over companies instead of profiting alongside them.

“I love my country. I wouldn’t be the president of the United States unless I did, but change is hard. During my first administration, when the banks dropped their financial fallout in my lap, I helped them get back on track and offered to work across party lines by doing as the GOP asked, continuing the Bush-era tax cuts for the top 2%. In return, the banks went back to the same practice of risky investments and derivative folly, while the Republicans decided the only objective worthy of tax payer money (for four years) was to unite against my administration so that no change could happen at all.

“My fellow Americans, I’m asking you now, is that what you want?”

“No!” The crowd’s response was thick and heavy.

“Do you thinks it’s fair for a handful of the wealthy elite to play with the rest of our lives?

“No!” Louder this time.

“Do you want your money, your stock market, and your worth measured by those who would manipulate the system to their advantage leaving you less in return?”

“NO!”

“Are you ready to do something about it?”

“YES!” The crowd was electrified.

“Alright. I am now enacting several executive orders in regards to our government that my staff and I trust are appropriate and good for America based on public opinion and letters sent to us from concerned citizens:
1. All members of US government are now required to be transparent about their funding, their associations and their business transactions. If you are to be held accountable by the tax payers, you must be able to show your work. No longer will US policy be bastardized by back room deals. The best leaders will be judged by their ability to work together and not against each other.
2. Lobbyists are no longer welcome in Washington. For too long, the interests of the People have been substituted by the whims of the rich with no regard to the average American. Politicians must now work for the People and not for special interests.
3. Any member of the US government: House, Senate, White House, etc, will now receive minimum wage, and I am abolishing all government pensions. Leaders of this country should be here to make America a better place instead of building up their own power for ulterior motives. We will now vote for those who wish to work with us instead of against us.

“I trust America and I trust the American people. We are great and we will continue to be great thru honor, empathy and team-work. There will be severe challenges to these changes in the forms of aggressive propaganda by media that has been bought and sold, big business owners who are happy with the way things are and politicians who don’t want to relinquish the power they have acquired. You will hear conspiracy theories explaining why I would attempt this change, defamations of my character and wild talk of revolution, but in the words of the great rap group Public Enemy, 'Don’t believe the hype'…” (massive applause)

“Can the United States be bought?”

“NO!”

“Can the United States be sold?”

“NO!”

“Will you help me ‘fight the power’?”

“YES!” As the crowds cheers reach a frenzy, gunshots ring out from the president’s left and he falls while the crowd begins to scream.

Assange awoke in a pool of sweat. “Bloody hell.” He turned over on the floor of the Ecuadorian embassy and went back to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-one

[Tuesday, November 6, 2012]
“My fellow Americans…thank you for reelecting me (applause). I have great news. Upon follow-up investigations into Wall Street corruption that lead all the way up into our government, the results were so staggering my administration came to the conclusion that there is only one way to right our corporate culture.

“I am proud to announce that the United States forgives ALL OUTSTANDING DEBT (gasps from the audience) from college loans to foreign aid to your current mortgage (stunned applause). From now on, any loans procured MUST BE INTEREST FREE. Honest, transparent transactions will stimulate fluid business and rapid growth which historically accompanies a free market uninhibited by money masters.

“Furthermore, to rid ourselves of the current economic stranglehold that the banking industry has on the entire world:
1. The United States is abolishing the FED and the policy of fractional reserve banking as both do nothing more than keep middle men rich for manipulating our money in a monopolistic fashion.
2. Because of these unethical practices, America is also withdrawing from the IMF, BIS and the World Bank, so as to lead the people of our planet in a new direction based on actual value instead of debt.
3. All US debt, such as US Bonds will be paid off in US notes printed by America, and just as “greenbacks” initiated unprecedented growth after the Civil War, it will be one hundredfold now.

“But why now?

“I learned a few things after my last term. I learned from Benjamin Franklin that the American Revolution was caused by the banks. From Thomas Jefferson, I learned that unless our money belongs to the People, it can be used against the People. From James Madison, I learned that “money changers” are unnecessary and on average more of a danger to the public than a benefit. From Andrew Jackson, I learned that the banks will pay any amount of money to get their agenda passed, even if it means attempting to assassinate a President who sees thru their nefarious plans. From Abraham Lincoln, I learned that debt free currency creates growth and opportunity, but does nothing for those who are used to playing with debt. From Woodrow Wilson, I learned why he believed he “did the most damage to our government” by allowing the 1913 Federal Reserve Act to pass. From JFK, I learned that men with unlimited power will do anything to keep this biased system in place, and from 9-11, I learned that these men will not stop meddling with the rest of our lives until they own the world.

“That’s why.

“Why should someone get paid to play with our money? Interest and debt and contrary to logic. A usury is unnecessary in a world where we are now able to communicate on the internet and work together internationally thru good for good and service for service. A debt based economy is funded by taxes and more debt. A value based economy is open and honest and increases only so much as we keep usuries away from our laws.

“In conclusion, I cannot continue to be accountable to a system that is not accountable. It’s a fabrication based on rules that change as soon as those in command of it see another way of making a quick buck. It’s not honorable, it’s not mathematically possible and it’s NOT WORKING.

“The way they operate, the banks would have us be their camel carrying loads of hay for next to nothing while they profit from our labor…but the straws have piled up. I’m happy to say, before they could break our backs, change happened…you voted for me.

“I tell you this now, because if We, the People are to separate ourselves from those who do not hold our interests as their own, we have to work together. Remember, those who would keep the current system are not evil, they are simply used to it. They must realize with us that no one can truly profit from a win-lose business model. In the end, this happens, but the time now is not for judging our fellow mankind, it’s time for change. Let’s make a WIN-WIN system where we all win. There’s more than enough to go around…” (massive applause)

Private Manning awoke, eyes wide. “Damn it!” He turned over in his bed and went back to sleep.

Chapter Twenty

“He came here?” David Coombs, Manning’s lawyer was flabbergasted. The President visited one of USA’s most ‘dangerous’ prisoners in a clandestine fashion, not letting anyone outside of his circle know. “The media would freak if they knew there was any kind of connection there. I can’t believe he risked it.”

“It made my day,” said Manning. “He feels like this is all his responsibility, and he definitely doesn’t like playing political games, but I guess he thinks it’s the only way to do it while allowing those in the wrong to save face.”

“To be ‘moderate’ nowadays certainly looks liberal…unless you’re a liberal.” Coombs smiled. “What did you guys get into?”

“It felt like a bit of a pep talk,” said Manning. “but it’s like he’s living in two worlds. In his public demeanor, he’s solid but flexible, wise but cautious, and overall slow to change on the big issues. On the other hand, in candid moments, he’s just as hip as you or me. He knows war is stupid, he knows old money controls most of the government, military and big business, he knows corruption in the US is more rampant than ever before, but he doesn’t want to step on people’s toes. He wants them to evolve on their own.”

“Sounds like he knows you can’t force anyone to learn.”

“That’s where these feints and counter feints are so poignant,” Manning continued, “you can tell the government that the FDA has been bought and sold by Monsanto, you can tell the military their soldiers are killing civilians, you can tell the President the banks haven’t changed their ways, but if he tries to fight the status quo, they will inevitably gang up on him. On the other hand, if he sides with them…”

“The People become outraged enough to get off their asses and do something about it,” concluded Coombs. “He must be busy after the Aurora shootings.”

“He wouldn’t tell me much,” said Manning, “but it sounded as if it’s all part of the plan.”

“What, that Holmes is another Loughner?” asked Coombs.

“He used the word ‘patsy’. I couldn’t tell if he meant Lee Harvey Oswald or Sirhan Sirhan, but maybe he’s going deeper. Historically, the FBI/CIA have always known how to find killers who fit the mold, whatever their purposes may be.”

“The NRA certainly thinks he’s the boogeyman out to eradicate their ‘God-given right’ to bear arms,” said Coombs, “but then again, they do that every time a democrat holds office.”

“I got into this situation in the first place, because I believed this President was the one who could see us into the future. The old guard is stuck in their primal ways. They would rather profit from murder since they feel as if we will never evolve from it. In my fantasy, our leader says straight up: ‘WAR IS NOW ILLEGAL’. How cool would that be?”

“Hmmm…” thought Coombs, “ideal, for the average human, who doesn’t murder anyways, but what do we do with the most advanced killing machine ever created in history?”

“Penance,” said Manning. “Let them build back the countries they’ve destroyed. Let them raise the children of the parents they’ve killed. Let them feel good about being alive, instead of wishing they were dead.”

“Careful,” said Coombs, “or when you’re freed like Mandela, and you get a first class ticket to the White House, I’ll hold you to those words.”

“Do that,” relied Manning. “I dare you.”