Chapter Eight: Storm From Below
It was the last legislative session of Grafton’s eight year run as governor. The session is in full swing. Grafton had called a press conference to help the most important legislation of his political life gain traction. He stood at the statehouse stairs and stared at the sky.
A Supercell is the scientific term for the most powerful thunderstorm. A Supercell forming in early February is a rare event, but on this mild winter morning, one had formed and hung directly over the state’s capital. There was not a hint of blue in the sky. The rain had not started, but the roar of thunder alerted everyone that it was imminent.
The crackle of lightening made the hairs of the spectators stand on end. Everyone anxiously awaited Grafton’s speech. They knew that rain could explode from above at any time, but they were willing to endure. Finally, they had someone to voice their position. Grafton was going to be a voice of power rather than compromise. There were 2000 in attendance, all dressed in all black armed with black umbrellas to ward off the first signs of rain. There would be nothing that could dampen their spirits.
With the state capital as his backdrop, Grafton stood at the podium. In his black Armani, he was dressed for a funeral rather than a press conference. He tapped the microphones, more for effect than to insure that they worked. Grafton cleared his throat and began his speech. There were no note cards or screens to lead him. He had it memorized it three weeks ago. Now was the time to deliver.
“This isn’t a speech,” he paused, “it is a eulogy. A eulogy to express the sorrow for the loss of our moral standards.”
The crowd responded with applause. The cameras rolled.
“Who here agrees that the line between what is right and what is wrong is more blurred than ever?”
The crowded resounded in unison with a “Yes!” There was a roar of thunder followed by a quick strike of lightening.
“And when we see the centerfielder drop an easy fly ball, we all wonder, why didn’t he catch that?! Well,”, “we shouldn’t blame him too much because we are all dropping fly balls. We drop fly balls by allowing the Who here believes that the moral compass of our society is leading us to the agenda of the far left,” Grafton paused again for effect, “Liberals…there, will say it. These Liberals through social media and certain ‘news’ networks are leading us closer to their agenda rather than the agenda espoused by our forefathers in the Constitution and Declaration of Independence.”
The crowd erupted.
“I don’t believe that our forefathers, the creatures of the greatest written documents since the Bible, envisioned that their words would be perversely interpreted to erode our moral fabric the way that these liberals have advocated!”
The almost all white audience was overjoyed to those words uttered by their black, conservative governor.
“No! I don’t think that Ben Franklin and Thomas Jefferson wrote the documents that created this country in order to forsake God and allowed Americans to thrive on the desires of human flesh!”
You could barely hear Grafton over the din of applause and cheering. He raised his hands in order to quiet his supporters. The crowd hushed but still hung on his every word. The press core continued to span their cameras between Grafton and the crowd.
With his low voice booming over the speakers, Grafton continued. “I think that they created those cherished documents to avoid the rule of a tyrannical government from far away. But now,” Grafton paused again, “we now face a tyranny from within. It is a tyranny from people using the words of our forefathers, words crafted to free us, to imprison us in a world with no moral limits or boundaries.”
The cameras continued to capture the crowd. The crowd exploded. Grafton had to silence them again.
“They have twisted our Bill of Rights to brain wash those in power to adhere to the standards of a loud but very small minority of people. We have been force-fed a moral agenda that offends the very being that created our planet! We are now required to tolerate more of what should be, and use to be, intolerable.”
Grafton paused and took a sip of water from the Styrofoam cup. He laughed. “Those liberals are more offended by this Styrofoam cup than what is being broadcast on the airwaves of our nation.”
The crowded laughed.
“That seems simple but just look back at history to see the standards of various civilizations. You only have to look at what they deemed entertainment to gauge the moral barometer of the people. Romans threw Christians in the Coliseum to be mauled by lions. And now our standard of entertainment is a steady diet of sex and violence streaming through our airwaves to be viewed by any child with ability to turn on a television set. They are watching shows which have their own ratings…or rather warnings!”
The crowd continued to laugh and cheer.
“Do you think our parents had ratings on their TV shows? No! And when I want to watch our national pastime on TV, I have to tell my children to leave the room when the commercials come on. How do you explain to a ten year old why the blue pill is so important to a middle age man and his wife?!”
Grafton chuckled at his remark just as he rehearsed. Plus, he had no children. “But knowing our liberal minority, we will soon see those same blue pill commercials showing a man and his husband!
Another laugh from the crowd followed by a roll of thunder from above.
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