Thanksgiving at the White House was always special. Pardoning two turkeys wasn’t as funny as the President had hoped, although it certainly generated a whole new slew of Assange/Manning memes, that was something. Then again, he wasn’t feeling particularly humorous lately but, it was Thanksgiving, grey skies are gonna clear up…grey hairs, not so much. The girls ran through the main hallway laughing. They are growing up so fast, he thought. I’m glad they’re still young enough to enjoy this old house…maybe that’s what I need. He tore off after them.
“Your old man’s still faster,” he yelled gaining on them. They cackled with delight and split up taking separate routes. He was about to follow Sasha when he noticed one of his aides standing in an adjoining doorway.
“Pete wants to see you sir, he’s holding an important call.”
“I’ll be right there,” said the President. He back-tracked to the office and took his time, calming his lungs.
Pete was waiting, his face taut. “Vladimir Putin’s on line one, B. It’s almost midnight in Moscow. I don’t know what he wants, but he seems to be in good spirits. Might just be the ‘wodka’.”
“I’ll take it here Pete, thanks.” The President inhaled one last breath to compose himself. “Zdravstvuyte tovarishch, happy Thanksgiving. How’s mother Russia?”
The phone clicked and he heard some muffled sounds, then, “hello Mr. President.” It wasn’t Putin. “I trust all is well with you and your family. It’s just another day here in Russia. They don’t really do Thanksgiving.”
It was Snowden. Wow…talk about unexpected. Maintain poise. “Yes, well it’s a bit chilly, but the sun’s out. How’s Moscow?”
“Frigid, but my hosts are being as warm as they can be. How are your hosts?”
The President was unsure of how to answer. “What do you want?”
Snowden jumped right on in, “I want to prepare you sir. I have some information you need.”
“Oh?” asked the President. “You can’t relay it to my aides? It’s kind of a big day around here…”
“Your safety and the lives of Americans are in jeopardy. I’d rather not risk talking to another robot. Can I borrow you for ten minutes?”
The President sighed, “yes. What’s up?”
“If you hadn’t figured it out by now, the 2008 financial meltdown wasn’t an accident, it was planned. It started with the Reagan deregulation and Clinton’s repealing of Glass-Steagall, but during W’s tenure, it snowballed. The big banks avalanched into a kind of organized corruption we’ve never seen before. I know this because the NSA, the IRS and the SEC all did our homework and investigated it once you were inaugurated. We found extensive fraud, market manipulation, secret deals between the families, pension funds loaded with fake documents, and average people’s life savings sucked dry…all because ‘greed is good,’ right?”
The image of Michael Douglas’ latest PSA denouncing his role in Wall Street came to the President’s mind.
“Well, they went further,” continued Snowden. “After looting everything, they colluded for one last insurance policy, and withdrew all their money at the same time, taking a third of the world’s wealth with them. That’s blackmail Mr. President. If we were to prosecute them, they were content to let the system fall apart. Our bosses had to make a decision about what to do, and we backed down for the sake of keeping the system in place. We allowed these families to run game on us, and then we turned a blind eye out of fear.”
“Sure,” said the President, “but it’s all been fixed now.”
“No,” Snowden paused, “it’s not. Have you ever been in an abusive relationship Mr. President? Do know what bullies do? They win and you lose over and over, until you stand up to them. These families are going to do the exact same thing they did at the beginning of your presidency again, and soon. That is a fact. The question is: what are you going to do about it?”
The President was at a loss. What the hell am I doing talking to this kid? he thought.
“Do you think I’m a thief Mr. President…or some kind of spy?” asked Snowden. “Do you think it’s fair that I’m being hunted by the most effective killing machine in the world while these gangsters walk around free? Is this civilization, or are we still cavemen?”
“What do you recommend son?”
“Take a stand, man!” Snowden spoke passionately, “don’t let America be blackmailed again, call their bluff, they're going to do it again anyway, and if you give in to them again, you're just becoming complicit. They’re using their propaganda machine to make it look like it’s your fault. They’re using white America’s fear of color to shift their hatred of your virtue to the racists. They’re assassinating your character and making money off it!”
“It sounds so simple,” said the President, “but it’s not.”
“No,” replied Snowden, “but this is.” He shuffled some papers and continued, “I have something that might be of interest to you. Since the NSA, the IRS and the SEC wouldn’t prosecute these bastards, some of us decided instead to keep a list of those involved. We call it the ‘black book.’ It’s a collection of names, bank accounts, and all other pertinent info on the people who stole from the rest of us.”
The president felt a wave of heat spread across his face. “What good is that to me?”
“You don’t want to know who’s stabbing you in the back Mr. President?” asked Snowden. “You don’t want to know who’s robbing your children’s future? I can’t believe you are that indifferent.”
“I don’t mean to sound indifferent, but I don’t have the kind of power needed to bring this to the attention of the People.”
“Really?” asked Snowden. “With a few keystrokes, I can upload the black book online for every hacker, activist or con-man to take a gander at. Wouldn’t that garner some attention?”
“Yes,” said the President, cracking a smile, “yes, it would.”
Snowden paused. “I hope you know I’m a patriot by now Mr. President. It’s a sad day when those in favor of truth are persecuted by those with power built on lies…but lies are like sand…and it’s tough to build a strong foundation on sand, if not impossible. Eventually, you have to start over.”
“Yes,” said the President, “you do.”
“Happy Thanksgiving sir. I hope I can meet you sometime under better circumstances.”
“Happy Thanksgiving to you too, son. Stay safe, and stay alive.”
Thursday, November 28, 2013
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