The True Believer

09.12.2004 | David Walley | Fiction & Fables | 1 Comment
Once upon a time in a college far away there lived a young conservative. The editorials emanating from his off-campus conservative weekly positively scorched the administration and continually stuck it to all the liberals, gays, and third worlders whose absurd ideological demands were interfering with education’s sacred duties.

He and his claque, mostly freshman looking for an identity, taped a professor cussing during a music class and then claimed it was a waste of the college’s money to employ him. Of course they didn’t take into account that the professor was an embittered bopster who just talked like that, oh no. Far from being a counterweight to the liberal cannon, their satires and bombasts were so heavy-handed that their point — good clean conservative fun — was all but lost on the general collegiate population.

Not entirely though, for the young conservative became something of a celebrity among the old guard of the movement, who publicized his struggle in their national media organs. At graduation someone who figured that a man who kept campuses safe from profanity was worth something in the real world offered him a job.

In due course, the young conservative came under the patronage of a big-time contributor to the cause. The old man, a media magnate, was wealthy, well connected, and a good market player who commanded a corner office and was never photographed without a tie. At their initial meeting, the two nattered on about welfare rights, gun control, unions and foreign policy. Government, opined the young conservative, is too important to be left to the whims of the governed. The old man laughed delightedly.

As his personal assistant, the young man became privy to the inner sanctum and attended all kinds of testimonials for retired four and five star generals, former Supreme Court justices and the like. In time he was entrusted to convey the wishes of his master or pass on confidential letters to those the old man wouldn’t or couldn’t see. He even met some girls but they were entirely too straight for him.

The low pay was more than amply compensated for by the once a week chats he had with the old man after work over scotch and soda, both seated in the big corner office overlooking the Empire State Building. And it was during one of those magic moments that he was asked to undertake a confidential mission. No, the details couldn’t be divulged, but all he had to do was give a small package to General Packard, rumored to be the latest loose canon working South America for the cause.

The meeting at the pricey though secluded midtown café went well, he thought. The general’s reaction to the epigram the old man had asked him to convey was well received, too. However, when he returned to his fourth floor Lower East Side walk-up, he was met on the landing by two federal agents who promptly arrested him on suspicion of conspiracy.

Released after some preliminary questioning, the young conservative was contacted through channels by the old man, who told him everything would be all right and not to worry about the heat. Eight months of being bounced from committee to committee in Washington convinced him otherwise and eventually he came clean in exchange for Immunity.

Struck by the need to find honesty, the true believer moved to Colorado with the proceeds from the sale of his story to the networks and became a survivalist.

MORAL: To live outside the law you must be honest.

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12.7.2010 | Linda D. Craig

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