Hidden Places

I heard on the radio this morning, sandwiched between soundbites of ~buy gold~ and ~the economy is better~, the news that America died.

I pulled my Chevy truck off the road so that I could pay attention to the details, but it seemed none were forthcoming. I tried changing stations to get this important news, but all they seemed to be covering was the death of a 50 year-old pop icon.

Fine, I thought to myself. I'll get to work and just ask... this is big!

My fellow debt-slaves were walking around the office in a pre-caffiene stupor when I entered. They seemed dejected, the morning a different shade of grey. They knew something was wrong.

Asking around garnered me no information on the death of America, however. It was overshadowed by the death of an entertainer. Well, there is always the internet!

I checked into a forum that I frequent, looking for the news. These people are a collection of some of the brightest critical thinkers that I've ever met... surely there is some information there. There turned out to be none. Well, Liberty would surely know! A quick check of her recent posts, however, showed that she was suspended from the forum.

Fine, I'll dig deeper.

On an obscure website frequented by the fringes of society I found it. The details were shocking... America was murdered. It seems that a group of Congressman walked into her house, took her to the bathroom and held her under water while one of them slit her wrists. This couldn't be correct... I decided to go talk to Liberty.

I drove home and started to load up the truck for a road trip, then paused. 20 years ago, I would be stocking beer, cigarettes and a gun.

That was then, this is now. I could no longer have a beer in my truck, cigarettes were too expensive and carrying a gun would probably get me shot if there was a checkpoint I had to go through. But what about a random criminal? I put my 9 mil back and looked for a knife... then remembered that it too was considered a lethal weapon. Should I just fly?

Choking back laughter at the thought of putting myself into the hands of airport security, I just started driving. The only thing in my front seat was a pink carnation... where did that come from? Oh well. On second thought, I really didn't need a gun anymore... I'm actually more scared of security checkpoints than a criminal. Off to Louisiana!

Liberty lives in New Orleans. When asked about it, she just points out that it is as close as she can stand living to Washington, DC. After all, Liberty and Government are mutually exclusive these days... so it is understandable. She lived and loved for many years in the downtown districts. Then came Katrina... so now she lives in the place the government has graciously allowed her the last 4 years.

It was late in the afternoon when I pulled up to her FEMA trailer. The usual mix of patriots were hanging out on her front lawn, the sweet smell of barbecued brisket wafting from a smoker. The topics were heady, the beer was flowing. I may have to stay awhile afterwards, I thought. They will surely know something. I announced myself and went inside.

Liberty has not changed a bit. She still looks to be in her late 40's, although a little on the wild side.. The slightly bent nose and the notch in her left ear in no way detracted from her overall beauty. I had heard that those injuries were from her bout with McCarthyism, but she doesn't talk about it. She sat down on her recliner, leather-clad legs crossing to show just a hint of the switchblade conclealed in her right boot. Her left boot was encircled with an ankle ~bracelet~... Liberty has been on house arrest since the Patriot act. Meat Loaf sang muted in the background... Read Em and Weep seemed somehow symbolic.

"So you're here about Mom's murder" she said without preamble. Liberty has a knack of just getting to the point. Although I like that about her, sometimes it is a bit disconcerting.

"Yes. I mean, what happened? I knew America was sick, of course. Then I heard that she died, but nobody is reporting anything on it. What the hell?" I asked, more than a little upset.

"Well, she was killed. Things happen. This has been coming on for years, actually. All her grandchildren knew about it and didn't do a damn thing to stop it." she replied, a note of irritation in her voice. But I knew her better than that... her eyes gave her away. She was upset.

"But why didn't you post it on that forum you always hang out at? It's not being reported anywhere... why don't you tell everyone?" I asked.

She tossed her auburn hair to the side and reached for a bottle of Jack Daniels. Liberty poured herself a few fingers for herself into a purple shot glass and offered me the bottle. I took a deep pull and gave it back, the whiskey burning my throat and settling into the pit of my stomach. Mental note to myself... eat something before I leave or I'll be in jail by the end of the night.

"Funny story, that", she said in a bemused tone. She then explained to me that on the forum she frequented she had a discussion go south when some Parkman alias was trying really hard to explain to her what she, Liberty, was all about.

"It was the damndest thing" she chuckled. "The guy was trying to tell me what my own viewpoints were. He was wrong, I was right, but he kept calling me a kook and a conspiracy theorist for telling him what MY ideas are. To him, his interpretation of ME was correct, my own wasn't. Hell, I was losing the argument about myself! I guess it was just how he baited me, but eventually I just went off on him and called it a night. The next morning I went back and found out that the site owner banned me for being passionate, or something." She stopped to pour another shot, shaking her head at the memory.

"Well, at least this guy got banned too," I said, rather amused by the whole thing.

"That's the funniest part!" she giggled. "He was kept on, I was let go. I'm ok with that though... most of the people on that forum speak about me all the time. However, most of them wouldn't actually know me if I walked up to them and flashed them." She turned somber, eyes suddenly boring into mine. "It doesn't matter. Here's the deal. America, my mom, is dead. Dead, dead, dead. Are you kids going to do anything about it? I can even tell you who killed her... just get online, look up the Cap and Trade Act and whomever voted ~Yes~ was in the room."

I tried to envison this and failed, miserably. "But why didn't we see this coming? I mean, yes it's a bill, like the 2 thousand other ones being passed all at once now. But why didn't we catch it?"

Liberty gave me that 'Love you son, but you're so stupid' look. "Because they didn't want you to. Hell, they've been throwing distractions at you all this time. You call yourself intelligent and don't know that? How about this... let's throw a bone to your champion and let him actually get sponsors on something that they want done anyways. Let his movement get all excited about it and pour all thier energies into it. THEN... throw in some bloggers to stir you all up, keep you not thinking. Make some noise on other things, like elections in Iran, Korea nuking you. See the picture now?"

I hung my head, embarrassed that I had not seen this before. It was high time for a subject change. "When is the funeral? And where?"

Liberty stopped and lowered her head for a moment. Then she looked up through her bangs at me and said that it was today... right down the road. At twilight. Good.. I could go to it.

"Are the sisters showing up? I mean, I know you can't..." I asked, pointing at her ankle monitoring device.

Liberty sighed, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. "I just don't know. Justice hasn't been the same since that forced hysterectomy the Supreme Court gave her in the 50's. The last I heard, she was prostituting herself on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. You know, where all the important lawyers are. "

She stopped a minute to pour herself another shot. I accepted the bottle, taking another pull. This might take a bit, I reasoned.

"OK... Faith? She got sold out years ago, as you know" she started on the list. "I've some recent emails from her telling me that she's a spokesperson for a televangelist, whatever that is. " She stopped for a moment, thinking. "Prosperity? Well, you've heard all about HER on the news. She bloated up to a trillion pounds or something and tried jumping off a cliff last fall. She's on stimulus life support now, but that Peter Schiff guy tells me she's flatlined, mentally. So they're just keeping the body alive for now."

"Charity?" she continued. "She got smart and moved off the grid, somewhere in Montana. Her fanbase shrunk to nothing ages ago... she can barely support herself now. And let's not even bring up Decency" she snorted. "She's Amish now."

Liberty sighed again, lowering her legs to the floor. "Face it darlin, you've got to go represent. At least it will tell you how many people know." She stopped, blinking back a tear. "These are bad times. America and I talked, sometimes late at night. She was starting to watch the news. She was despondent. So many of her grandchildren used her name, but nobody even knew her anymore." She drew a shuddering breath, and continued. "I think when they came for her, she allowed it. She just thought it was her time." A single tear traced a path down her right cheek.

I choked back my emotions as well, cleared my throat and asked... "But what will you do when they come for you?"

Almost before the sentence was finished, I found myself flat on my back with the edge of a switchblade to my throat. Liberty crouched above me, eyes flashing sheer hatred. She was close.. too close. I could see the tiny scars around the Gadsden tattoo on her neck. I went very, VERY still. The Warrior hissed through clenched teeth, "You know me better than most and you really ask that? I'll die as I've lived... free."

Her eyes lost their luster and she sagged backwards, the knife falling to the floor. "I'm tired, darlin... I've fought for so long with so few with me. Just go pay my mom her respects."

She got up, seeming to have aged in seconds. "I've so much to do and so little time. But remember, Hope is still in the game. If you see her there, please tell her I said hello."

I did not run as much as quickly depart Liberty's home. As I was getting into the truck, I looked beyond her FEMA hut to the levee behind it. A few patriots had gathered there, singing something that sounded vaguely familiar. No time though... the sun was setting.

I passed a full auditorium on the way to my destination, another celebrity icon doing his job. I could hear the roar of the crowd even from the freeway. I shook my head as I wondered how long the ~Hoax and Chains~ tour would last before people figured it out. No matter... I had already figured him out.

As I drove up to the cemetery I was pleasantly surprised at the crowd. It seemed that hundreds of thousands of people had gathered on the green. Security worked the fringes of the mass of people gathered, a checkpoint complete with a scanner was obviously my means of entrance.

I got out of my truck and got in line. People were weeping, some in the throes of complete personal agony. As dismal as this day was becoming to me, I felt a ray of hope. People knew. people cared! They were talking about the end of an age... something that could never be replaced.

At the checkpoint I was scanned, asked for my papers and asked my destination. "America's grave" I replied, already thinking ahead to the time when I could grieve with my fellow patriots.

The security guard blinked once, twice.. then handed my driver's license back to the guy in the guard tower. "Relationship?" He barked.

"Citizen", I replied.

Then a hurried conversation ensued between the two guards, one pointing to items on a computer screen in the guard shack. I noticed with some surprise that among the things listed was how many guns I legally owned and a credit-card receipt for my last 25 purchases. OK. I need to overhear THIS conversation!

A Whispered "Where is that other burial anyways?"

Whispered reply... "That thing the kooks are surrounding in the back"

I was scanned again and given directions past the huge crowd that had gathered to mourn the passing of Michael Jackson.

I really tried to follow the directions given me, but my brain was so overloaded trying to adjust to the misconception of my current reality that I almost missed the grave.

There is a decent-sized gathering of people around a mound of freshly-turned soil. It did not shock me that the biggest group identified themselves by clothing or memorabilia to be the Ron Paul republicans. I looked at the gathering and made a mental inventory.

Liberty Lovers... check.

Constitutional Party, check.

Ralph Nadar peoples... check.

Libertarian party.. check.

A bunch of guys in business suits and dark sunglasses with bulges under their left armpit.

Homeland Security... check.

What did surprise me was the amount of foreign ambassadors present.. I guess they knew about America's death well before we did.

Nancy Pelosi? Wait a minute... there is no way she would care about the death of America. I was confused about her presence until I realized that she was just here to make sure America was, indeed, dead. Then it made too much sense. She was just doing her real job.

The people present were just milling about, dazed and confused. There seemed to be no coherence to the proceedings. Wait... when are the proceedings? Upon asking I found out that the priest who was supposed to do the funeral rites could not show up because he was scared of being put on the ~no-fly~ list. Well... fine.

I looked through the crowd again.. it seemed that Hope was not in attendance.

I walked to the grave and sank to my knees. Closing my eyes, I offered fervent prayer to the Great Spirit that America's death would not be in vain. To juggle my odds, I also prayed to God, Buddha and Allah. Then I stopped to think about what this actually meant... the death of America.

Some time later my tears stopped and my throat unclenched. I could breathe again. I stopped making those funny noises that are so embarrassing in a crowd. I took stock of myself, mentally.

There was something wrong....

A feeling.

I was breathing too fast... my heart racing. I could feel my face tightening, adrenaline rushing through my veins. My hands were shaking, my thoughts scattered. I wanted to scream... time slowed the movements of those around me.

I knew this feeling.

Rage.

An agonizing hatred of those that did this, those that have put We The People in this situation. Those that have bartered thier souls to sell my children into slavery. How DARE they abuse my trust in them!

One of the guys with the sunglasses was watching me. ~Sigh~

I composed myself and rose, shaking legs almost betraying me. I walked it off by circling the crowd. I noticed that the sun was setting, outlining seven men that appeared to be dancing around a campfire on a hill in the distance. I thought at the time that I must be going temporarily insane, because one of them was wearing a multi-colored trifold hat with bells on the points. I could hear the slight jingle as he cavorted around the others. He appeared to be holding a crown in his left hand.

At the time I thought I was just emotional and was obviously seeing things.. I needed to go home. This was too much to process.

I made my way to my truck and started the journey back to where I could feel safe again. Twirling the dial finally delivered to me what sounded to be a pirate station on AM radio. At least it's not playing MJ!.

The feeling inside me stayed, grew as I drove. Rage. That's OK... I had a feeling that very soon I'm going to need it.

Mr. McLean blasts through my speakers as I turned the truck north. It seemed that I'de heard this song before today....

I need to find Hope.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAsV5-Hv-7U