Oroville Dam, California 2030

,A work of fiction exemplifying the progression of failed actions and an Agenda 21 based future for California.

I am old now. It seems so long ago when the dam broke. An act of terrorism, they say. I remember the sound. I remember the sights. I am not to think about it, but it keeps coming back to me. I must tell no one.

I live in Sacramento now. They have built us a new community. It is octagonal with the grand concrete buildings each facing the courtyard. In the square is the fountain. It, too is built in the shape of an octagon. There is no water to fill it any more. They found people drinking from it and stealing it, even after it was poisoned. The birds that landed near it and drank all died. It was part of my work to pick them up in the morning before the others got up. I am an early riser.

I remember seeing this place. We were so happy to have our own home. We share much. Each of us lost everything in the flood. My supervisor tells me that I may get special consideration soon. I had a challenging time adjusting. It was hard to see everyone die, my wife, the kids. I just couldn’t care about life anymore. I suppose that if it was not for Don, I would be gone, too. He took me under his wing. He even once pulled me away from a guard and told the guard that he would take care of me. He could have lost everything for doing that. He is a good man.

I spent twelve months in adjustment. It was hell. I had such a challenging time adjusting. I refused to do my work and I was insubordinate to the guards. That is how I got this scar. I am doing better now. Don makes sure I take my pill and it helps me to concentrate on my work and to think about today. That is what the sign in the square says, “think about today”. I have had difficulty. I spent far too much time thinking of the past. It must be left behind.

I am celebrating my seventy fifth birthday. I am the oldest person in the camp. We still call it a camp, though it is really a small city now. I remember the smell of the trailers and the smell of the mud and death. I need to work on it but it keeps coming back. I tell no one, not even Don. I will not go back to adjustment. I will kill myself first. I don’t think I could live through it anyway. That is the one freedom that we still have. Many have died at their own hands. I understand. I was a religious man. I believed deeply. That is one of the problems that I had with the adjustment. It was so hard to give up such deep belief. The doors to the roofs are all barred now. I suppose that was just too easy and many just ran off the edge and fell to the brick of the courtyard. That was in the beginning. Most are adjusting well now.

I sweep the courtyard each morning. I get to see the children. That is a wonderful thing. Don says that I should feel very lucky. Many are never able to see them. I can hear them laugh and I can see them playing. I am not supposed to speak to them, but I see them through the fence. They will never know about the past. They are taught only the future. The book says that we are not to speak to them so that they may be pure. I failed at that, too. It is not worth it to speak, it is enough to just see them, new life after so much death and so much loss. It is a blessing to have children for those who qualify. They are truly blessed by our leader.

Tomorrow I will find if I get special consideration. It is a wonderful thing. if one works hard and puts forth extra effort, that is communicated to the leaders. If they find you worthy, you may be given special consideration. I have asked to see my home. I hope so deeply, to leave this place, once again in this life, and to see the place where I once lived. They have warned me that it is all gone now, but still, just to be there with Clara and the boys. It would make my life complete.

Don is coming, as I sweep the brick of the courtyard. “Did I get my consideration?” “Yes, you did. You will be able to leave the camp and you will be able to return home. The leader himself signed the order.”

Don took me to a young man. He stood with a backpack and a walking stick. “I am Steve. I am taking you to Oroville.” I followed Steve through the gates. The guards stood and did nothing. We walked right past them. “Oh, my God, Steve, we are free.” “Hardly, old man,” he said, pointing to the drone far above us. “So what?” We are allowed to go back to Oroville, no one has been allowed to see it. It will be a blessing to see my home again. We got into the little aluminum boat. And it was light and fast. Steve opened the throttle and off we went down the river. The guards saw us coming and they never pointed a gun. The leader had said to let us pass and they did.

After a time, Steve let the throttle slow a bit and he took some food and two bottles of water from the back pack. We floated sideways as we ate and drank. Trees lined the banks. They were short and young, but they were coming back. No longer in rows, but I could see the kinds. Life sprung up out of death. It was a wonderful scene. There were a few trunks that emerged from the soil and new branches reached for the sun. The air was clear and I could see the sky. The courtyard has only a little sky. This is how the world should look, open and clear.

Steve started the outboard and off we went again. I thought of the leader and how kind they had been. I was a terrible refugee. They were right, I took from society and all I gave was sweeping the sidewalks and picking up dead birds. I was very lucky. They gave me this incredible wish. Steve was a bad refugee, too. He acted out. I could see the scars and I saw he had bitten his lip badly, too. Therapy! I decided to let his story be his own and I kept to small talk. He had been a young man when the flood happened. Now through the leader’s love, he was getting this wonderful opportunity and he still was full of hate for our leaders. It was sad.

Steve hoped to find dissenters living in the wild. He said that they would hide in the banks of the river so that the drones could not see the heat of their bodies. He was a truly bad refugee. We never saw anyone. There were no dissenters. There was just wilderness, and water, and birds and fish. It was a joyous time for me. The river forked and Steve said, “Ok old man, this is it.”  I looked around and saw nothing. Steve insisted that we were in Oroville. It had been a long day. He turned the boat in slow circles, as I looked for some landmark. He put the boat up onto the bank and I stepped into the trees and brush. There were rocks all around, round rocks. “The dam,” Steve said.

There was a dull thud and Steve stood up a bit and then a second and he fell to the bottom of the boat. I looked on in disbelief. Our leaders had neutralized him. He must have been a bad refugee. I wondered how I would get back. I looked up at the drone. There was a flash.


Scott Cahill

I Declare the End of Prejudice

Those crazy Puerto Ricans, with their boom boxes, always dancing. And how about the black culture where they all carry handguns and wear baggy pants! I’ll tell you, it is horrible, but still not as bad as the fat white old men. They hate women, people of color, and they don’t care about anything except money and power. Old people are not worth hiring. Young kids, these days, are worthless. Jews are not trustworthy. Americans are all fat and coarse. The French smell bad and hate Americans. The Muslims are a bunch of terrorists. The Chinese are strange and look funny. Russia is our enemy. All Russians hate Americans. Politicians are crooks. Taxi drivers are a bunch of nasty foreigners. The Indians eat strange food, make bad movies, and run Seven-Elevens and hotels. Africans live in mud huts and wear loin cloths. Irish are drunks who will get in a fight in a second (I am Irish! might be something to this one.) The English have bad teeth and poor dispositions. They look down on us as if we weren’t good enough for them. Southerners are slow. Northerners are rude. I hope that I have not left anyone out. All of these things are untrue, of course. Also, all are true, I suppose, in some instances.

We all harbor prejudices. Even the finest of us. This is not a bad thing. It is a normal thing. We learn, part of that learning is generalizations of categories of input. If you walked down the street and every time a person with a yellow hat on passed you, they slapped your face, over time, you would cringe each time you came upon a person wearing a yellow hat. That would be unfair to the innocent guy with a yellow hat, still, it would be a prudent action.

We find race and prejudice a difficult thing to discuss. It is something that I have considered many times. I choose to simply judge people on a singular level. Since we wish to be fair and, since we would not like to be treated improperly, we avoid the discussion. We simply don’t talk about race or inequality. Nothing is resolved by not discussing it.

It is not just the Africans. As a nation, we hated the Irish, who took our jobs and swarmed into our cities. For generations they were mistreated, abused and hated. Eventually, they morphed into society.

We hated the Italians. We invented hateful names for them. We distrusted them. We treated them badly. Eventually they morphed into society.

We hated the American Indians for a very long time. I know, it is not cool to consider, but they were a bit “savage” and much of this savagery was not as currently depicted in movies. Now the American Indians who choose are integrated, those who choose to alienate themselves are less so.

We have hated each separate group that has entered our society, separately and wholly, as if it was some hellish right of passage that everyone must pass to earn the title “American”.

We take pride in our nation as a “nation of immigrants” and, indeed, it is. None of us “belong here” we are here because we were misfits where we were, or we were desperate for opportunity, wealth, or simply food. Still, it seems, as in every club, we get in, then we make it difficult for others to get in. We demand unfairly of those who follow, and we have been doing it for a very long time.

In some recent times, there has been an effort by our government at various levels to allow free movement across our borders. This is, I believe, a part of a United Nations effort at promoting “World Government”. The concept is that if we are all one big happy government, there will be no war. The reality, of course is that there will be many civil wars. (see U.N Agenda 21)

I believe strongly in dissimilar, sovereign governments, as I believe strongly in different sovereign states. My reasoning is that this patchwork world allows for a retreat from a place or culture that is simply not palatable to your desired way of life (an example is the pilgrims and so many other religious and moral based moves to, and from the U.S.). I think that we see what “World Government” would be in the erosion of freedoms that has occurred over the past decade.

To the question of “How do we fix it”? I answer, we speak openly about it. It is the cloistered and hidden communication that has allowed this fungus to grow within our society. To the question of the borders, I answer that we must have tight, real, protected borders. We must have fair and equitable methodologies to allow immigration of people to our nation. We must not ask these immigrants what they want from us, but what they can offer to our nation.

Since the beginning of mankind, we have split into groups and we have formed lines and killed one another. I can only wonder if we shall ever rise above this failure of society, government, and man. Certainly, it seems, we are not even close.

Time after time, when men have failed to hold onto democracy, it has been the result of a loss of honor, and a rise in fear. Our fathers showed us that honor displaces fear, yet we so failed them by selling so much of our freedom for the false promise of safety. There is little safety in democracy. There is no safety in totalitarianism.

Abandon the quest for safety and, instead, breath in the wondrous freedom that surrounds you. Always a fool can take your life. Always life, itself, assures death. Let us forget the end and the many ways that it may be cast upon us, and let us live our lives with caring and love and intellect.

There exists a valid and deep argument that must be resolved within our society. It involves our responsibility to each other as countrymen, as brothers, as men. It involves our commitment to the feeble and the old and the sick. Indeed, it involves the essence of what we are and what we believe we should be. It involves our vow to each other to commit to a course that is proper and honorable. It involves what we have lost, what we stand for as a nation, and as men.

A man once said that it would take an attack from extraterrestrials to get all Americans to work together. That is untrue. The challenge before us is great enough to eclipse the petty considerations of race and religion. The time has come to set aside petty differences, and to address the real issues before us. The time has come to to bring integrity and equity back to government.

With honor and purpose we will see, at last, the insignificance of differences in the coloring of our skin. Perhaps, we will move beyond such things and, at last address the true issues, perhaps the time has come, at last, to speak openly about our challenges, our differences, and our similarities, to act as what we truly are – something more than a race or religion – as men who think and act as they feel right, – as an example to others, to the entirety of the world, as Americans.

Scott Cahill

Repairing the American Dream

The United States of America is shouldered with debt. This is a significant challenge. We are at a time in the evolution of our democracy where change must be made, and the past must be retired to allow the future.

Many wonder if we can find a way. We can. We face deep challenge, yet America has faced hurdles higher, and challenges more severe.

Always, when a course of action results in degradation of the positives, such course must be changed. All of the experiment of democracy is, indeed, such a metamorphosis. Today’s challenges, too, can be overcome.

The debt that we have assumed must be addressed by an increase in the tax base and by a careful level of inflationary change. I feel that a GDP of 7% to 9% with the relative inflation rate of 4% would retire the debt and allow for the continued evolution of our great Republic, and, indeed all mankind. I believe that tax base escalation must be a result of increased income and not additional burden.

The challenge is how to so significantly grow the GDP. Things that hold the GDP down (1.9% recently, honestly more like .9%) include over-regulation, a lack of escalation of real estate valuations, and the horrible shape of our national infrastructure. Together, this is an insurmountable headwind.

We must develop a plan and make a committment to bring our infrastructure up to the highest standards. Our nation cannot grow at the needed rates to address the debt that we accrued without a completely developed and updated infrastructure of electrical transmission, roadways, pipelines, bridges, and dams.

We must develop a reasonable and realistic energy platform for the nation to develop energy in excess of need. Energy breeds business and industry. A lack of available energy strangles business. Some components of such a plan should include public/private partnership gen. and co-gen. plants, renewables, storage, including pumped storage, and more hydroelectric facilities with modern dams and fish passages. Many opportunities exist for the privatization of elements of infrastructure to minimize the management of this by government bureaucracy and return all possible elements of the infrastructure to private hands with balanced and proper oversight and regulation.

Nuclear energy must be a part of the whole, with new engineering to maximize safety of generation, containment, and disposal. We have much science and engineering to find a way to assure public and environmental safety. These will include metal cooling of reactor cores, isolation and armoring of reactors, and fail-safe lockouts and provisions for autonomously “killing” the reaction by interrupting critical mass. We must develop further methods of refining spent fuel to maximize its usefulness to react and to minimize the remaining net waste.

Real estate must be allowed to appreciate with a balance of regulation, control, and a free market. Failures of the market are, clearly, failures of regulation and legislation. We must regulate from the “middle of the road,” and not be pulled from market-driven equitable methods.

Finally, we, as a nation of men, must remind ourselves of who we are. We stand for something on the world stage. We have drifted from this important understanding. America is representative of the free expression of free men, of industry, and government driven by freedom of speech, enterprise, and trade. We need not be the police of the world. We must never abandon the promise of our culture, the realization of freedom to manifest in equity for all. We must stand, again, as brothers, Americans, men and women who lead not by party affiliation, nor leaning, but always seeking the best course for all of us to travel together into a better future for those who follow, that they may one day read about our generation that we set aside differences for the betterment of our nation and of the world.

Scott Cahill

Death In Charlottesville, Va.

I know Charlottesville well. I have built buildings and infrastructure there. I spent many great nights in the city. It is a good place, a place of open thought.

A lady was killed on the streets of Charlottesville recently in a conflict that grew out of hate. It matters little to me which hate manifested in the murder. To the family of the dead girl, no argument or manipulation matters. Simply, their daughter, sister, friend deserved to be heard, and to go on with her life. No crime is more heinous than murder.

I wrote a short note on LinkedIn to make known my position on the senselessness of this murder, the unacceptability of the attempts of curbing the speech of those who wished to be heard, the frialty of man to act appropriately to change that which was flawed, however they saw it.

I do not condone white supremacy. I despise it. I do not condone any form of hatred. I despise even the hatred of the establishment. Hate changes nothing. It serves only to blurr the vision of the affected and to hide truth.

Always, discussion is warranted when men disagree. Always, we must debate, be heard, and hear others. It is written in our documents as a God-given right, to be heard, to convene, and to demonstrate. It is delineated in our Bill of Rights that we have the right to voice our opinions, all opinions, even those that most find painful or unacceptable. It is this guarantee, afforded by our Constitution, that allows the free exchange of information to progress, for us to grow as a culture of free men.

The K.K.K. is a bad thing. White supremists are a bad thing. Black hate groups are a bad thing. Hispanic gangs are a bad thing. Any religion that attempts to force their beliefs on others is, potentially, a bad thing. It is always so when violence or murder are a part of this evolution, as it has been so very many times.

Still the good, the bad, the different, the disgusting, are men. They, too, are Americans. Their right to speak is protected as is yours. It is no less valued under our Constitution. I am wholly committed to supporting with any means necessary, their right to free speech, as I am to protecting yours. You, too, should share this conviction if you are so lucky as to be an American. Free speech is a right afforded us by our government, by ourselves. It is called a God-given right, a right of all men.

When we attempt to stop others from speaking freely, even of things that we find repulsive, we stop ourselves from holding the same freedom. We are a nation of diverse ethnicity. We are a nation of diverse thought, we are, too, a nation of diverse discussion and debate. It has always been thus, since Jefferson drafted his magical words so long ago “We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal…” and then went back to Monticello and his slaves.

If, in our quest for comminality of thought, we abandon these constitutional tenets, which, for so long, we have attempted to realize, we will have lost all of it. Freedom is not pretty, or easy, or guaranteed. It is difficult and it is sometimes ugly. Men who are free can say things that offend. To legislate or to suppress such expression is to abandon forever one’s own freedom. That, my friends, is a price that I shall never pay. Even if I must die, I shall die a free man, one who can and will express his thoughts without asking for permission from any group or government.

Scott Cahill

The Millennials will take over the world

When I was a young man, I worked. I always worked. It was not out of necessity, I was a lucky boy. I had parents who loved me and who cared for me. They, too worked. I had thought that everyone did.

My father wished for me to be “tough”. He was frightened by my interests in poetry and art, lest I become less of a man, as though intellect was a feminine trait, and femininity a detriment to a man, who surely must harbor only the constituents of elements of manliness. He was certainly manly. He was probably disappointed when I failed to be interested in football. It concerned him when I was first published at ten. Why should a boy care about poetry and writing. Still the Iliad, the Rubaiyat, and the Odyssey filled my brain.

Men have inherent fears. Even infants fear spiders and snakes, wolves and “monsters”, the night. Each of these must be confronted to be overcome. Some simply live with them forever. I have grown to overcome my fears. I find fear constraining and uncomfortable.

I was afraid of dead people. I now know that dead people produce little liability compared to the living. Still, this is one of those inherent traits of men. He “helped” me to overcome this fear by letting me plaster the ceiling of a morgue at night in the clinic of my home town. I hated being left alone with the corpses in the night, but my pride would not allow me to escape my responsibility and so the ceiling was completed (perhaps the fastest plaster job ever).

My father, and many of his generation were tough. Dad left high school and lied about his age to join the navy and go to World War II. He was afraid that he might “miss it” and, perhaps be thought a coward. He was never thought of as a coward. He was fearless and strong. I loved him always and I always shall. He was a good man in every way, kind and caring. He lived through the depression, shooting squirrels and rabbits with a single shell. If he was successful there was meat in the soup, if he failed there was none. He slept on a couch. His sisters had cots in the kitchen. His life started tough, but through hard work and perserverance, he built a life of luxury and stability for his family. As an old man he once said to me “when I was a boy I didn’t have my own bed, now I have fifteen of them”.

He exemplified a generation of great men, responsible and strong, selfless and brave. My generation was softer. We hadn’t the difficulties to overcome that our fathers had, and we wished to elevate the quality of the lives of our children, as our fatheres had done for us. We shielded our precious spawn from the difficulties of life, from confrontation, from the hurt of losing, until they no longer had to confront those fears that we had to address.

The resulting generation, the millennials, have been told that they are responsible for nothing. They have been comforted and protected and cared for. They seem to feel that the world owes them something. Surely, they are in for a heck of a ride. The world is a cold and a hard place. It is the high wire – and there is no net.

Many are trying to accomodate the millennials, to find what they like, to support and to sell to them. They write Linkedin blogs, professing to understand what is necessary to pull the money from their wallets, or to gainfully employ the seemingly unemployable.

History tends to repeat itself and the errors of the past are passed forward to the future. So many social experiments have failed before, like the classes of aristocracy which resulted in the decimation of the Jamestown settlement, the model fails when many refuse to pull their weight.

The millenials will succeed or they will fail. With them may, well, go our society, perhaps our nation. It is only the confrontation of one’s self that produces growth. The millennials will grow, sooner or later. Daddy cannot protect and the inevitable will occur, sooner or later to squeeze productivity from them. Let us hope that they do not find themselves shooting squirrels in the park for stew. We have failed them by crippling them with our kindness. Let us hope that they can overcome this hurdle.

Scott Cahill

Spectre, the Organization Behind all of the Evil in our Troubled World.

I am an early riser. When I am on my boat, I awake in the wee hours of the morning, before the sun. I often walk on deck to find myself in the universe. My mind is at its sharpest in the morning.

I go to a coffee shop in the nearby village. There in that little shop, in that little village, I meet friends. Our cloistered group is diverse. It includes retired sea captains, an occasional spy, policemen, wood carvers, dentists, builders, and mechanics. All are intelligent. All are deep thinkers. I so enjoy mornings in the village. It is there that I forge elemental thoughts into understanding. There, surrounded by such diverse intellect, I test assertions and theory with that illusive thing that my wife calls “normality”.

I suppose I am a conspiracy theorist, one who believes that which George W. Bush swore that we would never tolerate, “outlandish conspiracy theories.” I did not believe them once. I have grown to see the obvious, and I have grown to dispel beliefs that defy reason.

.The Pentagon, the most highly protected building on the planet, which was rammed by an airplane piloted by a hijacker who had trouble landing a Cessna 172. This incredible feat occurred hours after the U.S. recognized that it was under attack by many hijacked airliners. Though Andrews Air force Base is two minutes away by F-16 (about seven miles) no planes intercepted the airliner. Sorry I don’t have a picture of the plane hitting the Pentagon. There weren’t any working cameras on that day.

If you believe that the most highly secured building in the world, within the most highly controlled airspace on earth, was successfully attacked by an airliner, piloted by a deeply religious Muslim, (who snorted cocaine with strippers), hours after the United States recognized that we were under attack, you are fortunate. Your beliefs are the easiest to hold. They produce the least conflict. One might assume that you are satisfied, too, with the Warren Report. Try not to make too much fun of my beliefs. Like an out-of-style coat, one day, they may afford you some comfort against the cold, and a bitter cold is coming.

John F. Kennedy, minutes before he was murdered by a lone gunman with a cheap surplus rifle from the sixth floor of the School Book Depository, Dallas, Texas. The shot, improperly situated, impossible, nonetheless killed Kennedy with the “first bullet” piercing his neck, and the second going through his head, Connelly’s shoulder, wrist, spinning around, singing “Dixie”, then spinning around again and landing in soon to be President Johnson’s left hand. He carefully placed it in his watch pocket and then forgot and washed his jeans.

Through reason, and the application of Occam’s Razor, I can no longer accept much that we are told. I see news as obvious propaganda. I question much. I wish not to think as I do. I do so out of prudence, and the desire to understand, not from a need for comfort, or even safety.

Osama Bin Laden, a man who outsmarted the greatest three intelligence organizations on the planet for years while planning and executing an attack on the United States of America successfully – from a cave. (Later he was killed without due process or even a trial – oh, and his body was dumped in the sea!)

It would be easy to list many things that are believed by many, perhaps most, yet are wholly unlikely. I will not. I will also not attempt to defend my beliefs, which are, admittedly, outside the norm. Instead, I will leave you to your own research, consideration, and understandings. Let it suffice to say that many, perhaps most, believe as I do. Something is horribly wrong. Much happens in the shadows. Most is not as it seems. Evil, truly, is eroding the fabric of our Republic.

Ian Fleming, who wrote novels, including James Bond, 007 novels from his Jamaica home “Goldeneye,” named after a covert operation that he managed in WW2.

Some days ago, the old men filtered out of the coffee shop. I was left with a quiet and wise man. He spoke in code-like whispers. As it often does, the coffee shop discussion centered on our nation and its degradation. The sports teams refusing to stand for the anthem, the subordination of the Constitutional guarantees to cowardly assurances of protection. He leaned forward. The coffee shop, now, near empty,“Spectre.”

Bond, James Bond a fictitious character based on real people in Fleming’s Naval Intel.

I looked at him “Spectre?” “Yes,” he replied, “like in James Bond – Ian Fleming – you asked what we are facing. We are facing Spectre.” I sat back and thought for a while. Fleming was a spy – a real spy, who knew spies. He was involved in planning for resistance to the takeover of the world by Hitler, drafting plans to allow communications with Gibraltar. He was involved in the exportation of science from Germany, and even the “removal” of scientists. (Sometimes by kidnapping).

Shawn Connery as James Bond, and the evil Blofeld

Could his books reflect deeper meaning than an exciting read of fantasy? Could Ian Fleming have offered us a glimpse of the thing that is tearing the fabric of democracy apart before our eyes?

I left the coffee shop and went back to the things that I do. Still, his words haunted me. They occupied the corners of my mind, reappearing paired with a thousand stories of smuggling, and hijacking, and murder. Could it be so simple as a singular enemy devoid of caring or honor, bent on domination? An evil empire planning for world domination?

I would that it were so simple. It gives me hope for tomorrow. Perhaps some James Bond will come out of the shadows and, at last, expose the subrogation of our media, our government, our very way of life, by some scarred and horrible man with a white cat.

Perhaps it will all be laid out in great detail for all to see and all to understand, as our hero goes off to a resort in the Bahamas where a beautiful girl awaits, with a dry vodka martini – shaken, not stirred.

Scott Cahill

Bernie Sanders is Sometimes Right


I watched a Bernie Sanders speech this morning. In it he discussed the erosion of the middle class in America. He railed against the inequity of the political system and the obvious pay to play that goes on in our government. Truly the rules are written by those who they affect. Truly, the biggest industries control the funding of all of the significant campaigns. We have failed to find honorable and just campaign finance and control.

Mr. Sanders has called himself a socialist. I find that repugnant. Still, I find that, forsaking his methodology, we are in agreement about the inequity of our government to the very constituency that they swore to serve. It is an unsustainable assault on the future of our nation and all of democracy. If America fails, as it seems bound to do, then democracies will fall like dominoes in the wake of our failure. I am certain that he is wrong in his proposed methodology. I am just as sure that the revision to the equity and justice of our society, which he advocates, must occur.

Mr. Sanders says that it is the charge of government to protect society’s weak. He is right. Mr. Sanders says that we, as a nation have the most failed health care system of any developed country and, in fact are the only large developed country that fails to assure health care to all of its citizens. He is correct. Mr. Sanders says that our nation’s laws and tax structure are drafted to benefit the upper classes and damage the middle class and poor. He is right. He claims that large industry in the U.S. do not pay their fair share of taxes. He is right. He claims that the entirety of our government serves a silent and small cloistered oligarchy, who act to protect their wealth and to increase it without care for others. I am afraid that he is right.

Our cities look like third world slums. Their population poor and infested with despair and drugs. Our infrastructure crumbles beneath the wheels of our cars. Our farms collapse, leaving only giant conglomerates to feed us. We are looking over the edge of a precipice. Over the edge there is no light for the middle class, or the lower class. Those who think themselves the controlling class shall find themselves falling, too.

Democracy is based on the belief that all of us are created equal. Where one goes we all go. When one hurts, we all hurt. No one, not even the elite, will survive such a failure. They will find their wealth wiped out, their security lost. Perhaps, it shall be the lower class who suffers the least when, at last, the lights go out.

The unraveling of the failures that have evolved in our short history as a nation will be very difficult. Always it is easier to destroy than to build. Always, it is easier to ignore the difficult tasks and to address simplistic actions. We have allowed ourselves to do so for too long. The time is upon us to act. America will be repaired one item at a time, until campaign finance, tax equity, and the elimination of all monopoly is complete. The middle class must florish and that requires, as Mr. Samders so elequently stated, the equity of compensation returning to our corporations. This is done only by unleashing free enterprise and removing the constraints to allow business and economy to flourish. Mr. Sanders is wrong when he states the government must set wages or prices. This has never worked in any model of government and it never will.

Our Representative Republic with its wonderful free market can only flourish when the “playing field” is level and just. We have allowed the game to be manipulated by the infusion of money into campaigns and false events. We have looked the other way as legislation which effects monopoly have been allowed to evolve and flourish with the support of law. For a pork barrel item, we have ignored poorly written legislation to become law, knowing that it was drafted to give unfair advantage. The ills that Mr. Sanders addresses are the manifestation of a republic which has lost its way. Such a government, which has allowed the erosion of the most basic tenants of its constitution, will surely fail. We cannot go on as we are now going. Our course must change if we are to remain complete and viable as a society and as a governed people under the framework of our now bastardized Constitution.

We saw the fall of Russia, broken and crippled. Today we see the great bear rising again to take its place on the world stage. Now it is the U.S. that is full of unnecessary regulation, corruption of all levels of government, bureaucracy that stalls the development of business. Do we think ourselves immune? We drive debt to ever greater levels and still, we fail to act.

It will take time and difficulty to fix the problems that we have allowed to manifest within our nation. Still, brothers, we must. If we fail, as surely as day follows the night, we will see the day that this great Republic falls from the face of our earth and all of man’s effort toward self-governance will wither into totalitarianism and oligarchy. The only remaining question before us is this; shall our great nation be broken into pieces by our own hand before it is put back together, or will we do what must be done, and address hard issues, to build, again, the greatest nation on the face of the earth?

Scott Cahill

I Set Out To Change the World


I set out to change the world. I saw it falling from understanding.

I studied science, looking in the aether for some grain of knowledge that may spark, again, the imagination of man. I found a system of education that was organized to exclude. I was told what was, and what was not, only to see it all fall apart over time. I was tested on the beliefs of others, others who failed to understand, each stating the accepted fact, until, at last, through difficulty, the falsehood of the truth was exposed, and the bow-tied, sweater-vested changed their drone to reflect that of the latest hero, perverting science for medals and titles. Regurgitating the latest belief as if science was religion.

And so, I looked to religion, hoping for a way for mankind to live together. I saw many beliefs, each certain, each absolute, each unwavering. They hated the sinner, though we all are sinners. They hated those who thought differently, though most do. They told of the hell that awaited them, the burning of a soul for eternity by its loving creator. Each had a set of rules. Each ran in the face of humanity. Each perfection, unattainable. God, himself, cast as human, reflecting the least of humanity, himself, breaking the rules, jealous and petty, requiring servitude and loyalty, threatening at a whim, the eternal soul. At last, I saw them for what they are, men, greedy for dollars, cars, mansions. Their perfect hair and their robes, their molestation, their secrets held in convent walls. Like science, religion was not a place for one who would heal the wounds of man. It, too, was a manifestation of the failures that had been allowed to manifest for so long. Still, we sat in rows, bowing to the unseen, kept in place by fear. I left and never returned.

I looked to politics to find the podium for my message. There I found men in rooms in buildings, flags and pictures, structure and procedure. I spoke with them, one at a time, they sent me to the bottom, from there I could enter the conversation, still every door led to another. The cost of being heard was prohibitive, and there were so many others passing through doors, paying their way, to be heard. Soon I saw that my resources and my time could never persuade the system. It was too massive, and others held every key. I left the city and the grand buildings, frustrated and disgusted by what I had seen.

I am a man of words, I thought. I shall find the words to change the world. I looked to the past, to great men who went before, men who tried to save us. I read the words of Martin Luther King, who, after being threatened by our agencies, given the opportunity to end his own life, said that he had seen the promised land. I read the words of Kennedy, and Gandhi. I could see, in their words the frustration, the struggle. Each great man stood on a pulpit and stated the obvious. Each stood fearlessly, then was shot dead. The promised land was not as King had seen it. The same evil that threatened his life took it. His words were stopped by a bullet to his head, telling us all to stay in line and do as we are told. John, then Bobby, men who stood forward, unafraid, shot by cowards who’s only action was murder in the face of decency. We obliged, serving the evil that took them, by staring at television screens, manipulated by coordinated evil, through Operation Mockingbird, believing lies. We preferred safety to freedom, and we took it. Still, there is no safety in cowardice, only ever increasing fear. They use that fear to herd us to condos and malls, factories and mines. We are slaves, cowardly drones doing as we are told, while professing our freedom. I read words in old deep books that smelled like mold. In them, I saw men struggling to find truth. From Beowulf to Einstein I looked in the folds of paper for a clue. Still, in the old books, there was nothing for me, and I set them aside.

I set my own words to paper, trying with all of my intellect to pierce the veil of ignorance. I spoke the truth and left the unproven. I kept my integrity and tempered my rage. I hammered the keys to send a message, to steer us from losing all that is good. It sat on the paper, unopened.

Time has taken my fair skinned boyhood. It has taken my hopeful attitude. It has stripped me of my passions, replacing them with less aggressive attributes. Through these many years I have watched as men failed to become what we should be. I have seen honorable men sell that honor for nothing. I have watched men sell what they were entrusted for a pittance. I have seen the worst of man.

Now, perhaps, you will say that I am a bitter old man. I suppose that I am. I was born with the aptitude and the tools to change the world. I tried with all of my tenacity and will, still, I failed. Perhaps if I had been more brave, if I had sacrificed myself as so many great men have done, in an effort to lift mankind, we may have become what we should have been. I am devoid of hate for men with different colors of skin. I am devoid of men who have differing beliefs. I am the man who I set out to become, yet, I have failed through communication or example to sway the direction of mankind. I have failed to act as an example. I have failed to act as a leader.

If you wonder why the world that we hand our children is less than what we were given, if you look to find blame for our collective embarrassment and failure, it is I. I am the one who failed this world so miserably. It is I who allowed the corruption and greed to strip our children of their right to freedom and equity. It is my failure and mine alone, and I shall shoulder this burden for all of my remaining days.

Scott Cahill

Hawking goes to the aether to play cards, at last, with Einstein and Tesla


Stephen Hawking has died at the age of seventy six. He was a great man. He saw things that most failed to see. He studied at Cambridge and fell into interest in physics and mathematics.

He lacked physical abilities, but, perhaps partially because of becoming trapped within a failing body, he concentrated his magnificent mind on the smallest and largest of matter and energy. His life, like those of Einstein and Tesla, changed man’s understanding of our world and brought us steps closer to the Universal Theory.

Recently, the world’s greatest physicists have looked into the crystalline nature of space and find planes of excitement of particles that shift to and from energy and matter. Hawking spent the latter part of his life in space, making computations at the event horizon of black holes. His body held him back, yet he escaped the prison of humanity to play among the stars.

Within that place, in the aether of space, in the deep black and cold, scattered with stars and black holes, three old men play cards today. One with slick black hair, one with disheveled hair, and another, tall and thin, standing, at last, free of the nightmare. This is, perhaps where Stephen belongs, at last, a part of the whole, at last unalienated from a world where he never fit in, at last with those who understood.

Scott Cahill

Cowardice, or Freedom, Never can there be both in a Society

Lately in America there has been a strange change. Americans were once a tough lot. They walked alone into a wilderness and tamed it into a country, a refuge for men who dreamed of freedom. Many of us escaped hunger, need, class suppression, even slavery. We became a special breed; “the Land of the free, the home of the brave”. Over time, things change. We wished for our children to not suffer the hardships that we suffered, we wished for the future to be easier than the past.

Today we are failing to maintain our position as the greatest country in the world. In fact, the singular way that we now excel, is as the country far most able to kill others in the world. Our military costs us more than the cost of any other countries military, in fact more than the next ten largest militaries in the world. We, as a people, pay that price willingly, told that we are buying security.

We should be very secure, indeed. We also pay for the NSA, the FBI, the CIA, the DEA, ICE, ATF, Border Patrol, The Coast Guard, the Police, City, County, State, the State National Guard, The TSA, the local Sheriff’s office, the bailiffs in courts, the State Park Police and the Federal Park Police, and so many more police forces that there is not time to list them all. We pay more than any other for the United Nations, a ridiculous attempt to subordinate our sovereignty to world government.

We surrendered our constitutional rights. In return for our freedom, we have allowed laws to be enacted to torture, to hide, to collect all data on every American, and everyone else. We have even allowed a program to kill Americans on American soil by drone strikes. We are stopped and searched on the seas, at our airports, and on the land. We must carry papers to keep ourselves from being imprisoned. We are, in many ways, like Germany was just before WWII. We, like the Germans, standing idly by as the Jews were taken, are cowardly, unwilling to act. Hoping to hide the inevitable coming action.

For the great cost, monetarily and constitutionally spent, are we safer today? Hardly. With these costs, in fact, the world is a less safe place and America is a less safe place and all of this negative change is at our hands. We demonize countries who are different than us. We destabilize countries that harbor raw materials that we desire, still, for the complete upheaval of the once more stable Middle East, have gasoline prices declined? No. The profit and the advantage that we pay for is not for us. It is for others, a special class that manages the entire mess. They are counting their winnings, we are working to pay their bill.

Most probably, we will lose America. It will be another dream that manifested for a while, and then faded into time, like so many great civilizations. It saddens me, but our generation has proved that men cannot justly manage their own government. Ours has been divided and sold off to corruption and oligarchy. Certainly it is the right time to at least ask why. Why was such a valid and honorable idea allowed to decay into what we have become, a country that holds all of the worst attributes of our enemies, as if we learned greed, hatred, and corruption from them and brought it to the next level.

There is but one reason for our failures, a million failures, a billion steps backward. That is cowardice. It is the cowardice that keeps one from standing forward and proclaiming the obvious in the face of corruption. It is the cowardice that allows hate to degrade to torture of enemies. It is the cowardice that took the dollar time and time again for a little bit of what we were, until, at last there was nothing else. America is a sea of them, cowards. We call ourselves otherwise, as all cowards do. Why is our government what it has become? Because it is what we deserve.

In all good there is the seed of bad, as in the yin and the yang. In our Constitutional government there was the possibility of failure, of digression of freedoms. The founding fathers thought of much, so many checks and balances, so many warnings and documents of descriptions, still they never imagined us, Americans who would run and hide from confrontation, cowardly fools who would sell all that matters for another promising to take care of them. Men like Adams and Jefferson put all that they had, or ever would have, on the table at a chance to make the world better for all. They, men who bet life itself for a slim chance of freedom, could never imagine such cowards letting strangers go through their wive’s bags in airports. They faced the Barbary Pirates half a world away and defeated them, only to have their spawn acquiesce to the same force like children.

Thank God that these brave men cannot see us today, in our majestic halls with our inconceivable debt, killing for nothing, torturing, selling the freedoms that they so valiantly won simply out of our pathetic fear.

Scott Cahill