C.W. had warned me that he was seeking a new vocation. He was going to become rich as a writer. So it was no surprise when I found a completed manuscript on my kitchen table for review.
It was entitled, “A Real History of the United States - By the Conservative Youth Movement.” Since he had not arrived by the agreed upon time, I took the opportunity to scan a few sections. Here is one.
As our brave forefathers settled this great country, they sought business alliances with the Native Americans who claimed to own the land. They paid 15 percent above appraised value for all lands acquired, hoping that the recipients would use the proceeds to establish themselves in a legitimate business. What did our “Redskin Brothers” do with the money instead? Why, they spent it instead upon liquor, cheap cosmetics, and weapons of mass destruction, causing great burdens to the white minority.
Our wise forefathers foresaw a shortage of labor in the New World, so they sent ships to the Continent of Africa, offering good wages, free transportation, and food and lodging to unemployed warriors. Upon arriving, however, these ingrates squandered their wages on music and refused to get an education. Our forefathers, then, were required to house and keep them for over 200 years
In 1861, the northern states, without provocation, sent troops into the southern states to strip property owners of their land and belongings. A terrible war ensued.
As Great Britain and Russia lay defeated by Hitler’s forces, the United States was forced to take over World War Two and defeat Nazism single handedly. Three infantry divisions, led by John Wayne, Ronald Reagan, and Clint Eastwood respectively, stormed ashore on the Normandy Coast and proceeded to fight their way across France, into Germany, and finally into Berlin itself.
My mouth dropped open at the exact moment he entered the room. He appeared as a freshly scrubbed youth in a brown uniform, complete with leather attachments, short pants, and highly polished shoes. A logo featuring the letters CYM covered the front of his shirt.
“Big Dope,” he said. “Greetings.”
“C.W.,” I said. “Are you serious about this?” I waved the manuscript at him.
“Of course,” he said. “I just received word from Wal-Mart that a half-million copies have been pre-sold. With the stockholder-gifts, the Hagee Ministry pre-sells, and the Texas schoolbook orders, we are already into our third printing before the first publication.” He paused. “Conservative books are very popular.”
“But,” I asked. “Does anyone actually read them?”
I was beginning to feel weak. I must have grimaced.
|The Conservative Youth deserve an|
accurate hisory of our country, - C.W.
“But these are all lies,” I said, shaking the manuscript again.“That may be true,” he said. “But it is also irrelevant.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “There is something you must understand about lies.” He took the manuscript from me and held it in front of me.
“They,” he said slowly. “Are the stuff that dreams are made of.”