Thursday, October 29, 2009

IRAN: A FICTIONAL BLOG--Installment 1 of "The Walls Have Ears: A Novel of America"


Warning: If you are easily shocked with regard to contrary
points of view, conspiracy theories, offensive language,
political correctness, sex, or anything else that may offend
your sensibilities or lack of open-mindedness, or if you're a
minor (but by no means limited to the aforementioned), please
do not read this novel, short story, fictional blog, or anything
else F. Scott Sinclair writes about. It's not for you...

Note: This is a work of fiction. The events described here
are imaginary: the settings, events and characters are
fictitious, and/or are the product of the author's imagination
or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events
or locales or persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2006 by F. Scott Sinclair.

All Rights Reserved.

Iran: A Fictional Blog

By F. Scott Sinclair

Paul Krugar

I couldn’t get the news I read on the Internet about the
euros for oil bourse out of my thoughts. Knowing that
Iran was the next government target on its worldwide
war on terrorism, I clinched my right fist, smashing it
against the steam radiator. “Jesus Christ…!”

My outburst could be heard beyond the confines of my
small bachelor apartment. I heard a knock at the door,
as words of concern seemed to walk through the door
like an apparition. “Paul, are you okay?”

“James, is that you?”

“Well, it taint the Crown Prince of Crawford.”

Happy to hear a familiar and concerned voice, I asked
Luther James to come in and have a seat. I returned to
my oak rocker in front of the bay window.“I’m sorry to
bother you, Luther. But things are getting me down…”

He leaned forward on the edge of the couch, and asks,
“Are you still concerned by the warantless eavesdropping
that the president authorized?”

“Nope. Not to say that that’s not a concern of mine, and
every other American. The walls, and everything else,
having ears makes one feel like they’re living in a
Communist country. But what really bothers me is Iran.”

“The next target on the Axis of Evil checklist, huh?”
Luther asks, as he thumbed through a magazine on the
coffee table.

Still internally shocked by the implications of the near
done-deal to attack Iran, I said, “Look. This thing has
gotten out of hand.”

Placing the magazine back in the rack next to the
mahogany coffee table, Luther looks up and straight
into my eyes, and says, “You’ve been reading too much
into the Iranian affair, don’t you think?”

I stood up before the frosted window, watching my
hot breath make condensation balls on the panes of
glass before me, and answered, “I don’t see it that way.
What I see are a couple of overblown egos at work.”

“How so…?”

“Both of these so-called fearless leaders have something
to gain, and a lot to lose too.”

Joining me at the window, Luther gazed at the drifting
flakes of snow as they passed before the window, and asked,
“Such as…?”

“If these articles are to be believed, we’re not going to
attack Iran because they’re in the process of developing
a nuclear bomb.”

“The big Iraq WMD lies again?”

“Something like that, so they say. But I need proof, not just
a conspiracy theory to crack the truth barrier.”

“What about Iran… What do they have to gain by being
obstinate by not cooperating?”

With a sinister smirk, I said, “Prestige and power. Defiance
is the ultimate Weapon of Mass Destruction and popularity
in the region. And that’s a problem for this administration also.”

He countered, “Yeah, any opposition to our so-called
Evil Empire means instant popularity and support.”

I couldn’t help interjecting, “Yup… An instantaneous coalition
of the masses that’ll blow the lid off of Iraq, not just Iran.”

Luther went back to the couch, and replied, “Literally, I’m afraid.
We’d be lucky to escape with our asses intact. That’s for sure…!”

With an intellectual frown, and furrowed brow, I said, “Things
don’t look good. But really, all that both sides have to do…is be a
little conciliatory, that’s all...”

A blank stare met my eyes, “Meaning?”

“Perhaps it means that Washington should back off its threat
of bombing Iran’s nuclear facilities if Iran turns their nuclear
power program over to third parties. Yes, Iran must pay the
freight of the program. But the powers that be can’t say a
damned word about an Iranian threat of developing a bomb
in that case. A cooperative of multinational companies, who’ll
pool their ingenuity and expertise…and build Iran its power

An appalled look enveloped Luther’s mug, as he said in almost
a whisper, “Your plan…is that simple?”

“Precisely… And we’ll in turn find out two things.”

That blank look appeared again out of nowhere.
“And what are they?”

“We’ll know immediately who the liar or liars are…”

“C’mon, get a life. No way, Jose.”

“Want a bet…? If our country refuses the offer, it’s attacking
for sinister reasons.”

“To stop the euros for oil bourse?”

“Could be… That, or simply oil. But since we’re overextended
in Iraq, and the euros for oil bourse is coming online in
the next couple of months, I’d say that’s as good a reason
as any to terminate the euros for oil program. And
then again, I wouldn't want to underestimate the
political rationale for attacking Iran just before the
upcoming midterm elections in the House. ”

“A smoke screen. Of course…”

"Or a distracton..."

Luther's eye beamed with insightful glee, and says, "Yeah...!"

I turned in Luther’s direction, taking a sip of cold
coffee in the process. As I placed the cup and saucer
back on the TV tray, I said, “One of many we’ve seen
over the last four years. Whatever this administration
wants, it asks for more power for credible reasons; but
their real sinister reason lies below the surface.”

“Like the alleged illegal warrantless eavesdropping
on Americans issue?” Luther said.

“Right. They say it’s for a good reason: to stop
terrorism here at home. But in reality, they’re
probably up to no good in my estimation.”

“With the likes of what we’ve seen so far, I wouldn’t
trust them as far as I could throw them.”

“I’ll second that motion…”

Luther put his feet atop the coffee table, relaxed
as can be and says, “And Iran?”

“If it fails to take up the offer, then that means
they’re developing what Washington says they’re
producing: nuclear weapons. Or they’re just crazy,
and want to challenge the powers that be…and hope
for the best. Power and prestige are strange bedfellows,
don’t you think?” I said with an intimidating gaze
in Luther’s direction.

“Strange bedfellows, indeed. Good god, this whole
thing might blow up in our faces?!”

“Or theirs… Needless to say, if the doomsday folks
are right, then America is on the brink of collapse.”

“And that accounts for the president’s weird, if not
somewhat maniacal and arrogant behavior?”

“They could be desperate because if the dollar
reserves is the primary issue, time is of the essence, my friend.
If there’s an imperialist empire grab in the offering,
then what’s been said about this administration is
the truth. But if Washington takes up the offer of a
cooling off period, and decides to allow third parties
to construct the nuclear plants that Iran has a right to
have; then I believe one-hundred percent in the integrity
of our government.”

“In other words, put up or shut up, huh?” he said,
tossing his head back into the cushion.

“That goes both ways, Luther. For Iran or our government…”

As he removed his stocking feet from the coffee table,
he says, “Now that we’ve solved all the world’s problems,
how about a beer or two at Larry’s Tavern. The beer’s
on me. What do you say…?”

“Sounds good to me, ole buddy.” I couldn’t turn him
down. He’d listened to this moron long enough. It was
my turn to listen to him. God knows he’d talk my head
off after a couple of brews. I gathered up my parka to
fight off the near zero degree weather outside, and then
waited in the hall while Luther grabbed his parka. We
departed for something that would erase the depression
I was feeling, and would warm the blood in the process.
A couple of beers were about to fill those needs as we
departed our apartment complex. As the wind burned
our faces, Luther hailed a taxi and we were on our way...



Paul Krugman:

Yes He Would


New York Times:

Military Fantasies on Iran


Greg Palast:

Gangster Government


John F. Ince:

Crumbling Under Debt


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