This is a fantastic fictional series that has gone global! The Author has given us permission to post his work in full. It is Copy Righted Material so make sure to get permission to post it elsewhere.   It is written a short chapter at a time. If you haven't already discovered this series and want to start at the beginning I have posted the chapters and links for the first 11 chapters below this weeks edition. This series gives you a glimpse at some of the problems you might encounter should our dollar die.  In this Chapter Glen Beck and Free Republic are mentioned!  ENJOY...

 

CHAPTER XVI: WHERE SHOPPING IS A PLEASURE (THE DAY THE DOLLAR DIED SERIES)

by John GaltFebruary 26, 2010 07:00 A.M. Eastern Time

The mailman pulled up unusually early, with his Home Guard escort riding shotgun literally and my discomfort for what appeared to be an ex-convict type acting as a new domestic security force quite apparent to both of them. The doorbell rang and as I opened to door to Ed, an elderly gentleman who was near retirement and worked our neighborhood for seven years now and with him was another man in a black outfit carrying a twelve gauge shotgun and looking like a reject from Survivor or some other reality television show. As I opened the door slowly I greeted the old man with some major apprehension, “Hi  Ed, do I dare ask what’s new with you this morning?” Ed put a half smile on his face and spoke in his official United States Postal Service voice, “John Galt, this is to inform you that I have two pieces of mail that you are required to sign for and acknowledge receipt of. The items are from the United States Department of Labor, Office of Economic Continuity Employment Services Division and from the United States Department of Homeland Security. Please sign here and here to acknowledge receipt and then press your thumb here on the identification pad.”

To say I was stunned was an understatement. To see this elderly gentleman handing two packages over to me, each looking like small books in yellow manila envelopes, gave me pause but the tone of his voice alarmed me somewhat. “Uh, Ed, what is it that I am signing for, ” I started in my reply, “because if this makes me legally liable for something I want to have my Miranda rights read to me.” At this point in time, the Home Guard clown with the tag of “Chuck C” on his badge felt obligated to speak up and said in an aggravated voice, “Just sign for it and shut up. We have hundreds of these to deliver and you’re already on one list and if you don’t do as you’re told and shut your pie hole, I put you on two more and really give you things to sweat about.” In the background I could hear my wife yelling out, “Tell him to go to hell!” I knew that would not work so I moved out on to the porch, looked at my old postal friend who was now shaking and sweating and did as I was instructed. I felt that I had to respond to this clown so I dared to speak, “Chuck, what is your issue, or is that your real name? I know you guys all have fake names so people do not get mad at you but why do you have to treat people like crap. Ed and I go way back so why you are riding around terrifying the elderly with your shotgun and attitude?”

That was a mistake. Chuck C. stepped up to me and went nose to nose trying to intimidate me even though we were both about six foot four and opened his mouth with a response that stuck with me forever, “Because I can and I get paid for it. Good day sir.” Ed looked over at me sympathetically and nodded, heading next door to James’ house where I feared the worst when those two met. I could not wait to hear the outcome as I now have signed and thumb printed my life over to another bureaucrat and had the joy of meeting the President’s new pride and joy, a circumvention unit designed to accelerate the changes the new oligarchy saw fit to protect their changes to be made to the Constitution.

After getting my wife to calm down and stop hyperventilating I sat down on the sofa and opened the first package from the Department of Homeland Security first. At the top of the letterhead was a bolded portion that caught my attention:

FIREARMS AND AMMUNITION RESTRICTION ACT OF 2010

EFFECTIVE DATE: FEBRUARY 20, 2010

READ AND OBEY ALL SECTIONS WITHOUT EXCEPTION. FAILURE TO ABIDE BY THE REGULATIONS WITHIN THIS DOCUMENT WILL RESULT IN FINES AND/OR INCARCERATION FOR PERIODS OF NOT LESS THAN 1 YEAR WITH A MAXIMUM OF 5 YEARS

“Hmmmmm, this is not going to go well,” I thought to myself. As I scanned through the list some of the summary portions which gave you a breakdown of illegal activities were stunning:

ILLEGAL POSSESSION OF AN UNREGISTERED FIREARM…..$1000 FINE….1 YEAR PER VIOLATION MINIMUM SENTENCE

ILLEGAL POSSESSION OF AMMUNITION NOT REGISTERED AND AUTHORIZED FOR USER…..$1000 FINE….1 YEAR PER VIOLATION MINIMUM SENTENCE

UNAUTHORIZED DISCHARGE OR SHARING OF FIREARM WITH UNLICENSED USER…$5000 FINE….5 YEARS PER VIOLATION MINIMUM SENTENCE

“My God, honey you have to come here and read this,” I yelled out to my wife. She was busy getting dressed and reminded me of something more important, “You had best get dressed and ready to go. Our shopping window is only from eight in the morning until eleven and we need to get some things if we are hunkering down.” I glanced at my watch and noticed it was already seven-thirty so for once the wife was right and I had to get it in gear. I hurried back to the bedroom somewhat exasperated by what little I had read thus far and told her, “They do not want anyone to own guns. I can not imagine anyone taking a chance with these type of stupid regulations they have published. They must be giving this to every gun owner in the area, that’s all I can figure.” She seemed disinterested trying to stay focused on the major issue of the moment, namely food, and started to give her authoritative checklist to me as she finished putting her war paint on, “Make you sure you have your D-Card and do not forget what little cash we have left. We need to get rid of it as soon as we can, they are going to phase all physical currency out over the next ninety days. And don’t you dare bring that gun with us, if we bring a firearm to a public location they will arrest you and you will be in the Arcadia detention center.”

As she rattled all of that off I provided the standard reply of “yes dear” or “yes honey” until she blurted out the last part about Arcadia. “Um, what Arcadia detention center,” I asked innocently enough, “you mean the prison east of town out there off Highway Seventy, right?” She looked up at me with those saddened exhausted eyes that I had become accustomed to and told me what James’ wife told her, “Our neighbors spoke with someone down the street who’s husband was taken away. She was allowed to visit him yesterday after two days with no visitors. Apparently this guy was active in the Tea Party movement and some of those right wing websites like Beck’s and Free Republic so they seized his computer, all of his guns, his two German Shepherds and his Jeep Cherokee. She told James that this place was huge and covered the entire parking lot out by the Sweetbay and Tractor Supply where they had hundreds of folks rounded up behind barbed wire and in large tents surrounded by guard dogs and and Home Guard troops.” I looked at her with a blank stare and she snapped her fingers and blurted out, “Hey! Are you paying attention? This is serious, no time to be screwing around.” I nodded, grabbed my shotgun and locked it up in the gun safe and grabbed the grocery list and all of the cash and coins we had left. Little did I know, shopping at the Publix grocery store we were “assigned” to would be a very unique experience.

February 26, 2010 08:01 A.M.  Eastern Time

As we finally found a parking place the shock of what I was witnessing sunk in. It was bad enough having to print up the “authorized” list of items we could buy which were color coded by day of the week and quantity allowed, but there was a line in front of the store with well over one hundred and fifty people plus an assortment of guards, more of the OEC clowns with badges and tables on the sidewalk and two paddy-wagons from the local police off to the side of the store with two people already inside and two officers standing outside the truck expecting more business. The line was typical of most government operations with what appeared to be a renew your driver’s license mentality of all involved wearing a tag or a gun.

While we waited in line, the long time of standing on the sidewalk had given me a chance to read each OEC sign on the closed shops be it the fabric store, swimsuit store, or Gecko’s Bar and Grill. Some of the signs had the phrase “NONESSENTIAL” stamped on them which I presumed meant the businesses were permanently closed as there was no reopening date printed out. On other businesses the signs had a date, time and the ration color code along with the insipid “PUTTING AMERICANS BACK TO WORK” sticker on the doors.  I wondered if PetSmart would re-open but I did not have time to go and check it out nor would I dare leave my wife alone in the long line considering the atmosphere of tension permeating our little shopping center.

After an hour and a half in line, we walked up to somewhat portly gentleman who I recognized some twenty years later as a former classmate from Riverview High School. I decided to lighten the situation up a bit I handed my identification and D-Card to him and before he glanced at the cards said, “What’s up Porky?” A sneer of disgust swept his face and I realized that I had hit a nerve. He looked up at me and started his government routine, “Well John, it has been a long time. If you would like to shop here without having issues, you can address me as Officer 13991, Mr. Poltrain, or sir in the future. All government agents here have been through rigorous training to insure the public can enjoy their shopping trip and obtain the goods they need. Any signs of disrespect could, in the future, put you at the end of that line and that would be about the time your shopping window expires. I hope you understand where I am coming from JOHN.” His emphasis and snotty attitude said it all. Now I did not regret gluing his notebook shut before class in the eleventh grade and wish I had participated in the great senior panting of the slob. Now here was the dirtbag who thought there would be demand for his “great looks in Hollywood” sitting here earning God knows what getting revenge on everyone he felt wronged him. I nodded and said “Yes sir” and  he handed my card back to me as the shock of what people like him with this kind of power will get away with began to cause my heart to shudder.

The store was packed and there were only four carts left when we got inside. The store looked completely different and there was a large wipe board with notes about items out of stock or daily ration variations. “Look at that honey,” I said to my wife, “the clowns are already running low on toilet paper. The sign says two rolls per shopping trip per week.” My wife nudged me after I said that as a Home Guard officer wearing two Tasers and a night stick just glared at me. We unfolded our list and noticed that you could only follow the arrows and select the color coded items and that zig-zagging and backtracking in the store was not permitted. As we approached the first aisle it was just paper goods or what was left of the paper goods and she nudged me again demanding to know what the list said. “Well super shopper, according to this we can get two rolls of toilet paper, one roll of paper towels, and one box of facial tissues per person this week,” I paused not realizing what she had printed out, “and just where did you get this honey?” She looked at me and told me how our log in directed us to everything we would need to know about the new shopping restrictions and why we had to follow the list. “They’ll fine us and dock our bank account if we do not follow the rules,” she said worried and concerned as we walked into the next aisle and I shoved the goods into the nose of the cart thinking we would fill it up.

The second aisle consisted of cleaning materials but I noticed immediately the sign at the approach which proudly proclaimed:

ALL ITEMS SOLD FOR HOUSEHOLD CLEANING ARE NON-HAZARDOUS AND ENVIRONMENTALLY SAFE PER OEC REGULATION 1.1113299.9900.5A

It was sort of eerie to both of us and I figured out what was up almost immediately. My wife looked at me to get an explanation and I replied to her, “Later, let’s not talk here.” We grabbed some dish-washing liquid and bar soap right off the first two sections but noticed that the name brands were gone and there was nothing but goods in plain white wrappers with the Proctor and Gamble label and the words “Bar Soap Adult 3.5 Oz.” and no ingredients or anything on it. After passing an empty section which used to have all of the laundry detergent, it began to hit home. “Honey, they are having trouble with deliveries. The just in time system has broken down. I knew this would not work,” I told her almost bragging but trying not to draw the attention of the group in front of us or behind us. The shopping in this section was completed but we needed food more than anything and as we made the turn to the next aisle, we witnessed a scene developing at one of the registers.

“We want candy bars and ice cream and we do not give a damn about your lists nor your rules. We have been shopping here for ten years and never had to put up with this crap. If you want to stop me from buying this, you try lady, you just try!” The rather large lady and her two somewhat ashamed children were staring down the assistant store manager, an OEC compliance officer and the poor cashier who was just trying to do her job. “Ma’am, we have to follow the rules and you must also,” the assistant manager stated. The lady had heard enough, threw a twenty dollar bill down, grabbed the junk food and threw them into a bag and started to walk away yelling “Keep the Change!” Before she made it to the door, an officer walked in and she pushed him out of the way screeching all the way about how this wasn’t legal and she wanted to see a supervisor. The sunshine was let in as the door opened and just as she thought she had made her break, the officer who was pushed down by this flower grabbed his taser and dropped her right there with two horrified children screaming and crying as one of them scurried over by her mother trying to eat one of the  Snickers bars that had fallen out of the bag. The kid unwrapped it and shoved most of it in her ten year old mouth, leaving a chocolate mess on her face while the young boy, maybe age seven was screaming “Mommy” over and over at the top of his lungs. Two other officers walked over, handed the bag to the OEC assistant, and drug the woman outside so the door could close and put the plastic cuffs on her and the children, escorting them off to the side where the paddy-wagon was parked.

“Don’t you dare squeeze the Charmin,” my wife quipped which made me and the couple behind us bust out laughing but everyone else in the store was completely freaked out and now instead of a bustling, noisy grocery store, it sounded more like a library. The third aisle was just as spooky as an old library as there were five and ten pound plain white bags labeled “USDA Flour” and “USDA Sugar” mixed in with the various corporate brands. I grabbed one of each as that was our weekly allotment and whispered to the wife, “Let’s get everything in our allotment. We may need it.” Aisle after aisle was like this with some areas completely out of inventory like coffee, microwave meals, Spam, and frozen dinners with pizza apparently being the number one choice for all of Sarasota today. As we turned out of the frozen aisle only getting a little of the goods we were looking for, we noticed two Publix employees emptying out the ice cream section and putting frozen meat in the cases to replace the desert section. “So much for that late night ice cream snack” I whispered to the wife.

The fresh meat aisle was a fiasco, the only words that hit us both. Instead of a solid row of neatly wrapped meats of various weights and sizes there was a shortage of almost everything. The butcher leaned over and said, “Can I help you?” It was the usual polite voice we had come to expect at our local grocery store and the professionalism of the chain still shined through in this bizarre setting.  I replied to him, “Can you do specific cuts or sizes for us?” He nodded his head no and sadly looked at us and started to read from a laminated card, “My job is to help guide you to the healthiest choices within your ration limits. I can no longer do custom cuts for you but I can offer you meal suggestions and caloric intake guidelines to keep you from ingesting too much fat and wasting your ration allowance.” I noticed he seemed almost hostile, as if he were biting his lips when he read it. “No thank you” I replied, “we’ll just select from what is left out here.” My wife grabbed the two pounds of chicken, two pounds of ground beef and one pound of pork chops we were allotted this week. “Did you notice honey,” I whispered as I pointed around the former seafood area, “there’s no fish, fresh or frozen. Plus they have closed their deli. Let’s get some soft drinks and bottled water and get out of here.”

The recycling goons had finally received their wildest fantasy as I noticed the sign by the gallons of drinking water just below where it said “LIMIT 4 PER CUSTOMER” and it blew both of us away. The government has actually added a one dollar per gallon jug deposit on every jug of water thus raising the price from the recent high before the crash of a buck seventy per gallon to now well over three dollars per gallon with the other fees attached to them. “What does our list say about this deposit honey? Is it refundable?” I asked like an idiot. She looked up and down and finally found it where her face turned red and she said way too loud for comfort, “No refund and if we do not return the empty jugs within seven days we will get a one dollar per jug per day fine. This is bull….” I cut her off before she invited the taser happy fellow at the front and we plodded to the register to check out.

I scanned my D-Card and handed it to the clerk. Old Porky must have tipped off his friends as one guard was standing there watching every move I made to insure I did not create a scene inside the store. The elderly clerk smiled and looked at my wife and I knowing that we had been coming to this store for years. The idle chit chat moved from the weather to the traffic for some reason and into a more serious issue when a code “8888″ flashed up on the register when the water was scanned. “Sir, I’m sorry to tell you this but you are not authorized to purchase bottled water,” the cashier said politely. My wife whipped the list out and said firmly, “Ma’am I beg to differ. I printed this list from our account last night and right here it says we can buy the maximum of four gallons per week.” The cashier pressed a switch and the light blinked at the top of her register and the assistant manager and OEC compliance officer walked over. “What seems to be the issue?” the assistant manager asked. “I have a list which says I can buy water, your cashier says I can not. Who’s right the Federal government or your cash register?” my wife snapped out in an aggravated voice. The OEC officer looked at the list, nodded to the assistant manager and he punched a code in so the approval would go through. “Thank you,” my wife snapped out, “I know you guys are stretched thin.”

The assistant manager looked back at us after the OEC flunky walked away. “It won’t matter by one o’clock,” he said, “we will be out of inventory if the two trucks do not arrive soon and we’ll be closed. Good luck to you folks, as it is only us and WalMart in this county that will be stocked and that appears to be a hit or miss proposition.” The cashier finished ringing us up as he walked away, my wife’s face turning a little pale. “Please place your thumbprint on the scanner sir,” the cashier cheerfully said, “and thank you for shopping at Publix.”  What I failed to notice while all this was going on is that the elderly man who normally would bag our groceries was simply placing them back into the cart. I looked at him and said, “Plastic please sir, but paper is fine if you’re out of the plastic bags.” The elderly gentleman looked up at me and said in a low tone of voice, “Sir, we can only bag reusable bags. Grocery bags have been banned as of this past Monday. You have to bring a canvas bag for shopping or carry the items up one at time by yourself.” The fat slob I went to high school with was laughing as we loaded the groceries on to the back seat of our car and he decided to add to the irritation of the day.

Porky started up, “John, I’ve decided to help you out. No hard feelings. Here is your Publix parking permit, space number two thirty-nine, valid from eight in the morning until eleven thirty on your scheduled days.” I looked at him and asked the obvious, “Uh, where is this space at, uh, I didn’t know our grocery stores had assigned parking?”  “This is a prime spot,”as he pointed to the lot across seven lanes of traffic off U.S. 41, “you’re located in the northeast corner about five hundred yards from here. Have a nice day and God Bless America.” As I turned flaming red in the face my wife grabbed my wrist and she calmed me down. I could hear the fat slob laughing as he and his guard buddies yucked it up at my expense. “This will not end well honey,” I told my wife, “someone is going to shoot back sooner than they think and these kind of people will find out you can not keep the people pinned down and treated  like caged  animals for long.”

 

johngaltfla.com/blog3/2009/11/18/the-day-the-dollar-died/

Part 2

 

johngaltfla.com/blog3/2009/11/19/american-hangover-the-day-the-dollar-died-part-ii/

Part 3

 

November 21, 2009

The following story in ITALICS is what some like to call speculative fiction, what I like to call a potential scenario for the culmination of thirty-six plus years of blunders by an incompetent group of bankers hell bent on completing their one hundred year plan of world financial domination. Of course their inability to grasp or destroy the concept of nationalism and individual identity will prove to be their ultimate undoing, but you can not tell them anything, so we all get to suffer while they learn.

“Citizens of the United States, citizens of the world,  I wish to bring you a message tonight of hope and dreams and most of all assurance. Decades ago one of my heroes uttered those famous words of ‘the only thing we have to fear is fear itself’ and to that theme,  I too, like Franklin Delano Roosevelt call now on the citizens not just of the United States but of the world to begin a move to restoration, beyond the call to change our  ethics and to begin to undertake an immediate and drastic course of action to preserve and enhance the future  for billions of people.

We have assembled in Geneva to initiate a practical and realistic course of action to correct the errors of previous administrations, of prior nationalist xenophobic ideals, and to end the cursed reality of a system of capitalism which has failed because the participants within the economy refused to shoulder the responsibilities inherent with the great power and wealth the people granted them. The expansion of our ideals was fruitful, beneficial and helpful to establishing a global expansion far greater than any in the history of mankind, yet my powers and those of our central banking system were immediately tested one year ago as this very expansion collapsed as the illusion of wealth isolated within the purview of the few deprived the necessary capital to continue economic growth. This shall no longer stand. The governments of the world can no longer stand idly by and allow the minority the great responsibility of the engine of growth to become restricted opportunities for their own benefit at the expense of the citizens of the free world. Tough decisions have been made in these meetings; decisions which will impact every man, woman and child for a generation forward and impose great stresses on those unwilling to make the necessary sacrifices to preserve our nation, our freedom, and our participation as the leading light of freedom in the governance of our planet.

There are those in my nation which will demand immediate redress and accuse my administration and the Federal Reserve of abandoning our principles, our ideals and our Constitution.  The future for the United States demands that the decisions here to be implemented immediately and when I depart Switzerland today, the process of legal acceptance of the World Currency Treaty of Geneva will be immediately implemented via Executive Order and those aspects requiring the U.S. Senate’s approval sent immediately to Majority Leader Harry Reid.  Failure to pass and execute every aspect of this treaty is not an option. The divisions our decisions will create will not receive an immediate embrace by the American business community but that is a price we must pay for the errors of our way.  In my capacity as leader of the United States and free peoples of the world,  I shall do what I must to preserve the Republic and to insure we survive as a nation united.

For I have been to the fields of Gettysburg and seen what division, distrust and dissolution can do to a nation, and I wish to be remembered as a modern day  Lincoln, doing what must be done in the name of God, Country and the World to preserve our nation and insure that the intentional community is not shattered by our malfeasance.  The American people and our economic might will make good on all of the debts owed to the world. The American people  and our economic will shall control spending and abide by the demands of the international community. The American people and our corporate citizens will absorb the necessary oversight by all world bodies agreed to in this meeting and that of the November 2007 G20 Cape Town Accords and the November 2008 G20 Washington Financial Systems Accords.  Charmain Bernanke will issue a paper on Wednesday, February 24th at precisely 6 p.m. Eastern Time to outline the changes to the domestic financial system and prepare for the re-opening of our financial markets at a later date.

In the interim, we will proceed with actions to preserve the health, safety and national welfare of our citizens while initiating the undertaking of these agreements. To quote another hero of mine, Martin Luther King Junior:

‘And another reason that I’m happy to live in this period is that we have been forced to a point where we are going to have to grapple with the problems that men have been trying to grapple with through history, but the demands didn’t force them to do it. Survival demands that we grapple with them.’

Under the leadership of our Legislative branches, our people and my administration, this time and once and for all I assure the people of the United States and the free world that we shall overcome.

Good night and God Bless America and the World.”

February 23, 2010 12:21 P.M. ET

As the bartender at the country club turned the television off then smashed the remote against the wall, his next words were not the revolutionary explosion in patriotism nor compliance President Obama probably would have expected:

“Free Drinks until we run dry!”

Alas, it was not Patrick Henry nor Ben Franklin but considering that everyone in the room, including some of Obama’s supporters, all felt like we were just sold out, it was only a matter of time until anarchy began to reign supreme. The club my boss was a member of was quite exclusive but not isolated from the reality of our community. The sirens were blaring constantly in the area towards I-75 and the helicopter that serviced Sarasota Memorial Hospital seemed extraordinarily busy the entire time we were playing but this brief vacation from reality ended with President Obama’s words.

“John”, my boss spoke softly, “here’s a toast to you and your family. May you survive this nightmare and thrive on the chaos which follows.” He raised his glass, drank a shot of bourbon, poured another one from the bottle the bartender dropped off at our table then handed me two one hundred dollar bills and left with the bottle in his hands. “Uh, I don’t think you should try to drive sir, I mean I appreciate all of this but…” and before I could finish he cut me off and yelled back into the silent room “Who cares? What are they going to do, FINE ME WITH THE DEAD MONEY? The hell with everyone and this government.”

He walked out the door and barked the tires on his Cadillac Escalade out of the parking lot and away forever.

I went back inside, gave the barkeep one of the Benjamins, thanked him and he handed me a bottle of wine saying “Your wife might need this.” I nodded, headed to my car and proceeded to look for a gas station that was open. I figured I had best top things off while I still had some cash on hand because who would know what was the consequence of today’s speech outside of D.C.

February 23, 2010 1:13 P.M. ET

The Sunoco station on U.S. 41 had all of the pumps covered with bags but the store, amazingly enough was open. I elected to go on inside, buy a six pack of misery juice and converse with the young man who I had come to know since he bought the station five years after emigrating from Pakistan. Tran, as he liked to be called was somewhat nervous but also enjoying a banner day of sales being one of the few stores to be open and gambling by making manual credit card slips and accepting cash of course.  I noticed the empt shelves everywhere and asked him just how he made it. “Easy,” he said, “I held inventory off site a month ago waiting for a hurricane or a day like this.” I had to laugh but then it hit me to ask him, “Does that include gasoline?”

Tran nodded and said something fascinating, “John, for you I do this.  It will cost you $5 per gallon which is the new minimum legal price but I can sell it to you. You have to accept this paper and keep it in your truck until you get home.” He scribbled my name on one line and checked a box titled “Civilian Emergency Services” and then shoved it over to me asking me to sign it. The FEMA moniker at the top of the page looked almost false but the date and title froze me in my tracks:

FEDERAL EMERGENCY MANAGEMENT AGENCY

FEBRUARY 22, 2010

EFFECTIVE FOR 14 DAYS FROM DATE OF ISSUE

PERMIT FOR EMERGENCY PURCHASE OF GASOLINE, DIESEL OR OTHER FUEL PRODUCTS FOR APPROVED DOMESTIC AVIATION, AGRICULTURAL, COMMERCIAL OR EMERGENCY CIVILIAN USAGE

Maximum Purchase Limit: 20 Gallons

CERTIFICATE NUMBER: 5FL399303134231

STATION ID: 1137756-34231

Without hesitation nor caring about the repercussions, I signed it with an illegible signature, handed him the other one hundred dollar bill that my now apparently former boss handed me and went to the pump he directed me to so I could get that 20 gallons in my pick up and go home. As I put the handle back on the pump and covered it back up with the bag as instructed, an ill feeling started to sink in to me; this document was issued on a Sunday and since when could they get this out to so many stations so fast unless this plan was already in place!

February 23, 2010 2:30 P.M. ET

I walked in the door of my home, dropped my golf clubs, found my wife and gave her a long tight hug with a tear in my eye. She asked me “What’s wrong honey?” and the story of this day was told. But this day was far from over.

Fort Fergus Falls

“Break 9, break 9, is there anyone out there. This is John Donaldson of Whittaker Trucking out of  Des Moines, IA and my rig is being shot at by unknown attackers at mile marker 56 on I-94 southbound. Anyone in Fergus Falls out there? Help please, help, I am being attacked. For God Sakes is anyone out there?”

The citizens band radio rang out again with a call for help. Mike had only been home for what seemed like a few hours and his base station was ringing with calls for help. He bypassed calling 911 and called his old pal Deputy Monckton directly on his personal cell phone. “Jack, do you have your CB on?” Mike asked before the deputy could even say hello. The deputy politely replied that he did not and Mike got somewhat excited and told him what he had heard. “I’m on it” the deputy replied and as the deputy put the phone down he could hear him calling for backup before he hung up.  Mike was exhausted but now was not the time to sleep in his mind. He put his winter gear on, grabbed some chains and locks, wrapped them around the doors on his trailer and then backed the truck up against the wall of his home so the doors could not be opened.

His wife, looking at him like he was insane heard Mike snap like the old Sarge he used to be in Vietnam “Sal, you start finding anything that can hold water and start filling it up. Use totes, buckets, I don’t care and I don’t care if we put it in the garage and it freezes up. We’re going to need it!” Mike then grabbed a pistol, loaded it, put it in his pocket and went out into his barn to start chopping wood.

He didn’t stop until six o’clock that night, tears streaming down this tough vet’s face as he finished tying off each bundle.

Take Your Pork and Beans and Stick it Mister

Tom sat in front of his television after the Obama speech from Geneva in stunned silence. Sandy looked at him and said “See, I told you they had a plan and we would be fine. Here you are buying all kinds of fatty crappy foods we’ll never need to eat and end up donating to some food bank and the President has it all under control. You’re an idiot honey and if you think I’m going to sit around drinking bottled water and pork n’ beans all night you can stick it mister!”

Tom was not exactly what many would call a “Type A” personality but he had hit his limit with the lack of sleep.  “Woman,” Tom yelled, “I was just trying to take care of this family and protect you from the unknown. If you think this is over, then why in the Sam Hell is your beloved QVC and Oprah still off the air?” Sandy had heard enough, uttered some very terse curse words and went to the bedroom slamming the door and locking it while screaming all of the way. Tom slinked back to his chair after putting the cans up in the pantry in a somewhat organized manner and returned to the television to see what was new. By now it was 3 p.m. Eastern Time and that meant the start of the new hourly news and information reports from FEMA and the Voice of America Domestic Services. “It beats MSNBC” he thought to himself, as he drifted off to sleep to the melodic sounds of Yankee Doodle in  the background.

“I Have Been to the Fields of Gettysburg” (The Day the Dollar Died Part III) by John Galt is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at johngaltfla.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at www.johngaltfla.com.

johngaltfla.com/blog3/2009/11/21/i-have-been-to-the-fields-of-gettysburg-the-day-the-dollar-died-part-iii/

Part 4

 

November 25, 2009

“And Zeus gave ample plunder to their hand,

That they embark and get them to their land

With ships full-laden,  even on them great fear

Falls of the Watchers in heaven who stand.”

-The Odyssey by Homer, Book Fourteenth, page 159, translated by J.W. Mackail 1905

Alas a quick note before I present the fourth entry. The proverbial “powers that be” are our collection of Gods in the minds of those married to a digital scroll of symbols and numbers flashing across their screens every day and to those unwilling to grasp the gravity of sacrificing freedom for financial security, liberty for laziness, and willing to adore false idols for the perception that these ‘men’ not deities will protect and enhance their freedoms. In this episode I shall attempt to bring thousands of years of human fascination with power into the grasp of how our willingness to sacrifice choice for security results in a situation not too much out of the reach with the actions of the elites within our financial, academic and political classes.

May you have a blessed Thanksgiving and understand that our time has been marked, our actions noted, the duty soon to be paid.

The presentation below in ITALICS is fiction……

February 23, 2010 6:30 P.M. ET

Georgia on my Mind

Tom stirred awake when the alarm on his wristwatch stirred him into a startled look around the room. “Sigh, thank God, I’m home” he said out loud then calling out to his wife “Honey, let’s talk sweetheart and I’m sorry I’ve upset you so much.”  Sandy walked out of the bedroom smoking a cigarette, something she had not done since they both quit ten years ago and yelled at Tom in a drunken stupor “Okay you geek, what the hell do you want to talk about now? The end of the world? Obama having alien ears and a forked tail protruding from his butt?  The local newsboy spying on us when he delivers the paper? I swear you’re a (burp) loser Tom, why the bleep am I married to you?”

Tom was stunned by this outburst then noticed she was taking another swig from a cheap bottle of wine they used to keep on the shelf for ‘those’ guests that they did not want to serve the good stuff to.  “SANDY!” he exclaimed, “What in the heck is wrong with you? Why don’t you sit down and watch the national news with me tonight, let’s get close and see what is going on so we can decide what to do.” Sandy looked at him, her eyes totally glazed over mumbling “What to do? What to do? What to do? Hell boy, you ain’t got a clue as to what to take for lunch day to day and you are worried about some slicked up steaming pile on the TeeVee says about a situation that is so fake it isn’t even funny? You want me to follow you, Mr. Wimpy Boy? The Man with a plan from the internet because you read three articles on the 2012 movie? Just stay out of my way while I find another bottle, I’m going to drink until I pass out and you can eat your damned Spaghetti Freaking O’s by yourself mister.”

Tom sighed loudly and looked at her with those big puppy dog eyes and started to plead, “Baby, if I’m wrong about this, I’ll leave you alone. But if this situation is as bad as I saw at WalMart this morning, we should get ready for some bad times. Please, sit down beside me for just a half hour, we’ll watch whichever news show appeals to you.”  Sandy put the empty bottle on the floor of the hallway, stumbled over to Tom’s lap and grabbed the remote control, switching around until she found Katie Couric on CBS news which was just starting. Sandy blurted out “This wench has it going on you know. She threw Tom Cruise off her sofa!” Tom sighed again, hugged her waist and watched with great interest as the news began.

CBS news sounded hauntingly like the FEMA updates, plain, bland and with repeats of information until about fifteen minutes into the show when Tom and his intoxicated wife noticed there were no commercials for Viagra, bladder issues or tingly leg syndrome. Sandy said “Okay know it all, what is this scroll at the bottom and top of the screen?” Tom looked and the top scroll was in Spanish much to his surprise and the bottom one in English stating that the broadcast was “cleared” by the Department of Homeland Security and the Bureau of Economic Oversight. “Honey, I have no idea, this is weird” he replied to her. Katie then read a story about the hardships of the inner city during this economic recession and how the government under Obama’s leadership was ending discrimination against the poor and other economic minorities. “SSDD I guess eh baby?” Sandy said in her stupor. Tom just nodded and started to worry as this was weird that all commercial television, no matter the channel he switched to, did not have any commercials. Perhaps things will be better in the morning, if he could just get Sandy to pass out he thought to himself.

Fergus Falls Down

February 23, 2010 5 P.M. CT

Mike’s shirt was soaked after several hours of chopping wood, fixing gaps in his barbed wire fence,  checking locks and securing his semi. As he popped the cover off his face to drink some hot tea from his Thermos, a sound he was shocked to hear appeared in the bitter winter silence, that of his cell phone ringing as if never had owned one before. Hesitating slightly he opened the phone to check the number and sure enough it was his dispatcher finally calling him back. “Mike, are you home, I hope?” the voice on the other end sputtered out.  “Larry, I’m good. The load is secured. And if you’re asking me if I am delivering tomorrow, you’ll have to guarantee that I can turn around and come home” Mike replied. Larry hesitated and spoke slowly, as if not to upset his driver, “Mike, I was planning on reloading you at Hormel with an emergency shipment for Dallas in the evening. I really need this one.” Mike was stunned. He took a deep breath and told his dispatcher of three years in a very slow speaking Midwest intonation “Larry, I’ve known you for several years now. I can not use my credit cards, my fuel card and I don’t have the cash for the trip. You’re asking me to leave my wife for a week or more by herself in a small town now surrounded by deputies guarding against God knows what AND you and the company have no damned idea on how or when you’ll pay me. If you were in my shoes, just what the heck do you think the response would be? I’ve got about a third of a load of frozen pork and no guarantees I’ll get paid, protected or anything so if you think I am going to Duluth tomorrow without being paid, you are nuttier than that FEMA broad on the radio every hour!”

Larry was somewhat shocked at this tone of voice and even more so when Mike hung up. But the reason the phone was disconnected would not be known to Mike or Larry for weeks to come.  A driver in a tanker truck was run off the road by a group of thugs and took out the cell phone tower about three miles north of Mike’s house. Little did anyone know that Fergus Falls Minnesota and many other small towns would soon fall prey to the scum of the earth as the weakest links would be picked off first.

For the first time in Mike’s life since Vietnam, he took the night shift for guard duty. He prayed hard for his son in Afghanistan and wished he was home. Mike knew their lives were changing but the consequences of years of living off of the fat of the land had distorted this small town’s perception of the big world that Mike knew all so well from his trips around the country.  “Fergus will fall as America is falling” he thought to himself.

As darkness enveloped his town and the bitter cold set in, he longed for the days of old when neighbor could trust neighbor.  That was the first victim of this week’s events and as the shortages began, the victims would multiply.

February 23, 2010 7:10 P.M. ET

Even my wife was impressed with dinner tonight. We had agreed after a long talk to relax, take in the information and just relax. I had cooked two of the steaks in our freezer that I had started marinating in Italian dressing the night before and the smell on the grill just had to make the neighbors envious as there were so many snowbirds down here already escaping the bitter cold of up north and not used to the smell of char grilled ribeyes in February unless they were regulars down here. We cracked open a bottle of wine we had been saving since our wedding day for a special occasion and we figured that with steaks, baked potatoes on the grill, vegetable kabobs and some fantastic garlic toast from our local bakery that the end of our nation as we knew it fit as a special occasion. After all that and the last drop of wine was consumed, we needed to walk it off and despite a brisk sixty-one degree evening, we decided to head over to the Ringling Bridge.

February 23,  2010 8:00 P.M. ET

The new Ringling Bridge opened years ago lacked the character of the old draw bridge but for our little community, it was a fantastic and brisk walk up and down with the ‘largest hill’ in our area plus the traffic actually stopped backing up into downtown Sarasota once it opened. As my wife and I parked the care over by Marina Jack’s we walked down noticing the flashing lights of police cars at the base of the bridge and wondered if there was a bad accident or what could have happened now.

As my beautiful wife and I approached the southern sidewalk to the bridge a local officer approached my wife and I with his flashlight pointed in our faces and what appeared to be his other hand on his pistol. “What can I do for you two?” the officer asked. I replied we were just going for our nightly walk on the bridge like we have for years now and wanted some fresh air. “Do you have some identification on you, both of you please?” he asked somewhat insistently. I handed my license over to him and explained my wife doesn’t carry her purse on her when she walks as he basically ignored my words and walked over to the squad car, now with another officer watching us closely.

“Sir, I notice on your records you have a firearm in your ownership and a CCW, are you carrying now?” he asked with the pistol now drawn but pointing down to his side. “No sir,”  I replied, “I do not carry when I walk around here, I’ve never had to.” The officer seemed satisfied with my reply and then pointed us back towards the parking lot and stated firmly as he holstered his weapon “All of the barrier islands in Florida are now closed I am afraid. We are under strict orders to restrict access out here because of fears of retaliation.”

“Retaliation?” I thought to myself and apparently so did my wife as she looked at me somewhat worried. “No problem officer, we’ll just head back home” I said to the officer as I slowly turned my back and walked with my wife back to the car. Once we were pulling out of the parking lot and heading home we noticed the marina had private security guards setting up for the night, another new feature and that prompted her to ask “Retaliation against who or what?” I told her I did not know and we headed home as I just had to get on the message boards and find out what the heck was going on.

February 23, 2010 9:40 P.M. ET

The wife, normally whining about my time talking to my friends on the phone and online said she was doing the same to try to figure out what was happening. Her first inquiries yielded a response from her friend online from Australia of “sucks to be you” or worse words to that effect. The interesting responses I saw on the message boards I frequented ranged from the bizarre to the sheeple and really failed to shed any light except that some other members noticed an upgrade in the law enforcement protection around the affluent neighborhoods in their towns.

As the banter and speculation went back and forth via email and messages alike, I tuned into CNBC and Bloomberg to see what the various opinions of our financial markets just might be for the future. CNBC-Asia actually looked relatively normal except for the scrolls at the bottom with the “ALL FINANCIAL MARKETS CLOSED UNTIL FEBRUARY 25, 2010″ over and over again with some program announcements. Bernie Lo had Jim Rogers on tonight at 10 p.m. Eastern and I could not miss this interview as I figured it was the “see I told you so moment” of all time as Singapore looked like the new financial center of the world as New York just imploded. CNBC in the United States was a different story entirely. It appeared that Cramer was sweating more than Coach Andy Reid of the Philadelphia Eagles trying to choose toppings at a sub shop and Kudlow looked as if his dog had just been hit by a dump truck. They were both trying to justify a cause for hope by parsing a speech from President Obama and speculating on just what Ben Bernanke would be saying tomorrow. In the mean time Rick Santelli upset both of them by stating that the U.S. Dollar was the equivalent of burnt toast at the now bankrupt Waffle House in the Southeastern states. Rick was in rare form tonight as he then launched into an attack of the ‘God Complex’ the central banks seemed to exhibit thinking they could manage capitalism and investors instead of letting the market do it’s job. When Cramer tried to defend the G20 meeting, Santelli cut him off and said the following which stuck in my mind from that day on:

“These arrogant fools have been acting like Gods for years now and guess what James? They have destroyed the American model for capitalism. You’ve made your money. I’ve made mine. But for the average slob on the street, they are now slaves to the dictates of these megalomaniacs who think that they are above every aspect of human society and our Constitution. You and your kind make me sick. It really doesn’t matter what you say now Jim, the markets are dead and you helped kill them.”

“Honey, are we out of port?” I yelled as she walked to the kitchen.

February 23, 2010 10:59 A.M. Hong Kong Time

Interview with a Vampire

Bernie Lo: “Jim it is good to have you back and I’m sure that with only the Chinese internal markets open, you have quite a bit you would like to discuss tonight.”

Jim Rogers: “Good morning Bernie. To say this was not going to be easy to see as a possibility of happening would be a lie.”

Bernie: “I must ask, do you think we will see the North American and European markets open again before March or April?”

Jim: “Absolutely no later than March. If they fail to open their equity markets by the middle of March you might as well just hold a massive liquidation sale. The United States has to absorb the pain they have postponed and insure that functioning capital markets are returned to operation soon or the rest of the world will just circumvent their currencies, debt and banking systems. It would be tantamount to the sinking the Titanic and selling more tickets to board it unless they open the markets up and allow capitalism to repair itself.”

Bernie: “So what happens to other equity markets as they re-open to international investment? Will they not have to impose limits or….?” (Interrupted)

Jim: “Centralized economies and banks will impose capital flow restrictions. I imagine the Asian governments will restrict the amount of withdrawals to insure their banking systems do not collapse but the silence has been deafening. I imagine everyone is going to follow the American lead but we have to wait for Bernanke and his merry band of idiots to speak tonight.”

Bernie: “I have to ask, what becomes of the dollar, a subject we have discussed many times and the price of gold?”

Jim: “That really depends on what you are pricing gold in. Gold in United States dollars will be unattainable at any price now inside of North America barring currency controls by Canada and Mexico and neither of those nations can afford the risk of alienating the Federal Reserve, especially Mexico. The price of gold in Euros should top out around one thousand to two thousand Euros only because of the exposure of ECB to dollar based debt and investments by the continent. The United Kingdom might as well join the European Union now because the Sterling is useless except for wadding. The Asian currencies, ags and precious metals are the place to be and if you really push me, the price of gold in U.S. dollars will open back up well over two thousand dollars per ounce if the markets are allowed to trade. The dollar itself though is no longer a functional measure of trade nor investment and can now be openly dismissed as a reserve currency.”

Bernie: “Then what exactly will function as the new reserve currency for world trade? I mean, uh, Jim, what you are saying is a total shock to the system and will change the nature of foreign investment activity for years to come.”

Jim: “We’ll know when Bernanke speaks. But if I am the ruler or President of a nation, the reserve currency of choice is the primary asset or commodity I have on hand. Many nations started to hoard precious metals, oil and base metals the past four years. I think they set the tone no matter the decisions of the G20 yesterday. As I told you a few years ago, farmland is investment number one if you live in the U.S. now and for the rest of the world the decoupling that many said would not happen will have to happen.”

Bernie: “With that, I must say good night Jim and thank you for another enlightening discussion.”

I did not notice it until my wife screamed at me. There was  a glass tipped over with port wine soaking into our carpet. She must have been yelling at me for ten minutes.

“I’m sorry honey, I’m in a little bit of shock. Remember all those bad things I said that could happen? Well, they have. Let me find out what the plans are for the local governments online and statewide. We may have to hit the road on very short notice.”

February 24, 2010 12:21 A.M. ET

I’ll never forget the email I received in answer to my question about the bridge incident. It was from an old retired friend from the local police force and he said it best:

John,

Are you an idiot or something? What are you still doing in town? The reason they closed the barrier islands was to prevent attacks against the homes of the bankers and investment community who created this crap hole of a disaster! They are going to do all they can to protect those clowns even if it means half the damned town burns down. Do you honestly think they will let riff-raff like you get out there on the Key with the likes of Springer and King? Not to mention all the scammers who screwed us over out of our retirements and future?

Damn. It made perfect sense now. The police were following orders and I was willing to bet that other areas like that were well guarded. Which meant my home, my cars and my “stuff” was pretty much on my own. With that in mind, I muted the television, tucked my .45 into its holster and went outside to our driveway to move my pick up right up to the bumper of my wife’s car in the carport and to scout the yard. As I searched with a flashlight, I drew my pistol at the first noise, only to see a raccoon scurry into our neighbors back yard. With the deep exhale, I started to head inside when in the distance several loud cracks rang out. It sounded like firecrackers but there was no way anyone beside those who held gold or Swiss francs would be celebrating.

I ran back inside, locked all the doors, put chairs from the dining rooms under the doorknobs and in front of the glass doors then checked all the windows. With that I went back to the computer to see what the Chinese markets were doing. I slid the holster off my side, put it up on my desk in my office and logged into my Bloomberg terminal, hoping for a news and market update. The scroll at the bottom of the screen told me that I would not get much sleep tonight:

BERNANKE AND FED TO ANNOUNCE BANK RE-OPENING PROCESS…….OBAMA TO SPEAK TO NATION AT 8 P.M. EASTERN……GENERAL ELECTRIC TO FILE FOR CHAPTER 11 BANKRUPTCY AT 8 A.M. EASTERN WITH FED PERMISSION FOR REORGANIZATION…..FEDERAL HOME LOAN BANKS TO BE NATIONALIZED…..CHINESE YUAN REVALUED AT 2:1 RATIO TO US DOLLAR FOR 30 DAYS….

Coffee or port were the only questions I had left now. The die has been cast…..

Arrogance of the Gods (The Day the Dollar Died Part IV) by John Galt is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at johngaltfla.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at www.johngaltfla.com.

johngaltfla.com/blog3/2009/11/25/arrogance-of-the-gods-the-day-the-dollar-died-part-iv/

Part 5

 

November 29, 2009

Thou commandest me to lead forth this people; and thou dost not let me know whom thou wilt send with me, especially whereas thou hast said: I know thee by name, and thou hast found favour in my sight

Exodus 33:12

35:31. And hath filled him with the spirit of God, with wisdom and understanding, and knowledge, and all learning,

35:32. To devise and to work in gold and silver and brass,

The reality of the crisis will soon sink in on the American public in this portion of the story. The portion below is FICTION and I have not entered this section in italics at the request of several readers who have difficulty reading the font in that style.

February 24, 2010 05:18 A.M.

So sue me. This time I hit the snooze button twice. I decided I would head over to the office today to see if the owner had sobered up and elected to give it a try. My wife begged me to stay home claiming the news was filled with stories of muggings, hijackings of trucks and robberies everywhere but I knew that was not the case in our little part of Florida, not yet at least. I calmed her down as I shaved by saying “Look, if it is dangerous looking outside, I will turn back home. I will carry my pistol and call you when I get to the office. Heck honey, I have no idea if we are even going to be open but we have to try to get the business moving again.”  She just shook her head and looked at me with those sad, sultry blue eyes and wanted to cry as she tends to do when the stress levels max out. I reassured her by saying “Don’t worry, the 12 gauge is loaded beside the computer desk in my office. I promise to call you on a regular basis, at least once an hour.”

As I put an extra magazine for my pistol in my briefcase, I turned to more important issues, like wondering just how the circus would get restarted after they shut it down cold with no warning. My company was obligated to fifteen construction projects throughout the state, about twenty percent of our former volume three years ago. The problem we had been experiencing with spare parts delivery on the big equipment had dragged on and on with excuses and little resolution in sight as the suppliers kept going bankrupt or endured transportation breakdowns.  I never would forget the article on the cover of Business Week  from the first of this month titled “The Death of J.I.T.” and laughed because they had no idea that the problems they wrote about had been ongoing for almost a year before. The funny thing is nobody noticed any problems until a local super market ran out of Raisin Bran for a week and that was just a little over ten days ago.  Now on the local news program on 820 I listen to every morning here’s a local politician stirring up everyone with the warning that shortages are going to be pervasive in our state and soon if the government does not get the banks and credit systems open. “No duh” I thought to myself.

After shaving and listening to all of the depressing local news, I figured I might as well turn the television on and see what the financial networks had to report. I was too tired and depressed by this point in time to visit the internet blogs, message boards and news sites so  I figured the cheery voices on CNBC, FBN or Bloomberg would have some sort of news, anything to give me a clue. Heck, it was a quarter until six in the morning and usually the networks had the biggest stock pumpers in the world on, but that would be sort of a moot point now.

As I settled in front of the television, the media attempted to portray things in a most interesting twist as I attempted to enjoy my coffee with a bagel. The first thing I saw on CNBC was a new feature titled “Investing in the New America” which caught my eye and made me ill all at the same time. Then as I switched over to Fox Business their feature a few minutes later was “A New Day for American Business” that finished my appetite off, but intrigued me enough to watch the feature to see what in the world was going through their minds.  At just before six o’clock I switched over to Bloomberg for some sort of sanity.  Sadly, it became apparent to me that when sanity left the building, it took our entire world with it. “Dawn of A New America” was the graphic emblazoned on the screen with the Third Movement to Dvorak’s New World Symphony blaring in the background and with my mouth dropping to my knees it seemed, on came a new group of talking heads that I had never seen on Bloomberg before nor would I have ever expected to based on what they said next.

“Good Morning! This is Sandra Williams with my co-host Tom Lewis and welcome to the new Dawn of American Business brought to you exclusively on Bloomberg Television in the United States, CNBC U.S., and the Fox Business Network every morning from 6 A.M. until 9 A.M. when the networks resume with their normal line up. This service is a joint effort between the cable news and broadcasters of the United States  designed to insure that important information about America’s economy, government and regulatory agencies are brought to you unfiltered as a service of the United States Department of the Treasury and the U.S. Chamber of Commerce. We are part of a new special reporting group from the United States Information Agency designed to keep Americans and the world informed during this  brief economic crisis.”

My charming wife walked in the room in time to yell at me “I’m not cleaning up that coffee spill on the sofa, you have to do that yourself and do you realize that you’re drooling? What in the world has gotten into you?” She was right of course as I had basically drooled and spilled coffee on my chin, my shirt and the sofa in stunned amazement to what I had just heard. Then after pointing to the television and explaining what I had just heard, she sat down with me to watch a bit more of this stunning first in American broadcasting.

February 24, 2010 06:19 A.M.

The talking heads basically did recaps of everything we already knew to this point but started to add some information to fill in the blanks. The target date for re-opening the entire United States banking system was now March 15th and that could not be good for the financial system but as the announcers stated, the bad institutions would be absorbed and liquidated as necessary and that had introduced inherent instability and the concerns of bank runs as many other commentators had alluded to. Before I could say a word, an advertisement appeared for the new “$ Card” which appeared to be a slick add to push a new government sponsored credit card. In reality it was something more insidious as the ad finished with the slogan “Standby for instructions tomorrow February 25th on how to obtain and use your Dollar Card, soon to be the only legally accetable method for transferring funds from failed banks and travel overseas.”

Travel overseas? What was wrong with Travelers checks or credit cards? This is getting weirder by the minute. The ads that followed were no less uncomfortable to view as my wife and I sat dumbfounded and fixated at the screen.

- An ad from Chase telling all of its cardholders to hang in there as it would soon have a 0.0% interest rate in exchange for the new per usage fees approved by the Federal Reserve and to check our mail for further instructions.

-An ad from Ameritrade assuring its customers that the impending regulations would guarantee the value of their account as of February 19, 2010 and not to sell or panic when financial markets re-open on March 8th but to be comforted by this new government guarantee under the SIPC, now a part of the Federal Reserve Economic Security Division.

-An ad from Goldman Sachs assuring all of the customers who the Federal Reserve and FDIC that are assigned to their supervision that business will return to normal soon enough and to smile at the new dawn in America.

-An ad from FEMA urging all Americans in need to register for help by February 28th so an assessment of the economic crisis and needs of its citizens can be completed as soon as possible.

My wife was shaken by this and puzzled just looking at me and uttering “Dollar Card?” with a very puzzled look on her face. “Got me,” I replied “I’ve never heard of such a thing.” She then begged me again to not go to work and stay home but I would have none of it. It was just after six thirty in the morning and I had to leave. As I tucked my cell phone into my pocket and made sure my CCW permit was in my wallet, I kissed her on the cheek, told her how much I loved her and headed out the door. Work had to be beckoning me by now and with all of the efforts by the Obama administration, some semblance of normalcy had to be on the horizon. “Yeah, right” I thought to myself. There was never to be a normal anything for the rest of our lives the way I figured it. The morning news was only a hint of the insanity to come.

February 24, 2010 07:05 A.M.

As I pulled my F-150 into the driveway of our offices, I slowed down to a crawl and almost broke down in tears. There was a Sheriff’s office squad car sitting at the end of the driveway blocking the way, a fire truck spraying water on some smoldering rubble and what appeared to be a van from the Arson squad or Coroner’s office around the back of the fire truck as it was too far away for me to see at the moment. “Halt right there!” the deputy bellowed out, hand on his sidearm with the holster unsnapped and his other hand making a stopping motion, “Identify yourself and state your business.” I squinted through the windshield and rolled my window down “Doug, is that you? What the hell are you doing here? And what happened to my company’s offices?” Doug, a fifteen year veteran of the Sheriff’s office and long time friend and partner in my bowling league looked relieved. Doug’s voice was shaking as he told me”John, good to see that it is you. We’ve had reports of looter’s trying to get in here and mess up our crime scene. I guess we won’t be bowling again any time soon since the team sponsor was found dead inside of his own building.”

I turned my truck’s engine off and stepped slowly outside of the vehicle, somewhat in shock. “Doug, uh, wh, wha, what happened?” I stuttered choked up trying to ask the question without losing it. The deputy took a sip of coffee from the cup on his squad car and took a deep breath to reply, “John, it appears now per the coroner and arson investigator to be suicide. The initial report has him going inside the office some time last night, pouring an accelerant on the floors, turning off the fire suppression system and setting the building on fire while he was in it.  They’ll conduct an autopsy this afternoon. Do you have any idea why he would do this?” I must have freaked my friend out a bit as he had never seen me shaking like this as he put his hand on my shoulder in an attempt to reassure me. “Oh God Doug, he kept talking about leaving it all yesterday on the golf course as we played through but I thought he was talking about leaving town. I had no idea he meant this!” I told him slowly, my voice low and shaking. “That’s okay John, he was in a world of trouble,” Doug said in a sympathetic voice, “He was on the list of tax evaders to be arrested later this week and I think he knew it. All debtors to the Federal government who had failed to file the proper forms by December 31st of last year were going to get a visit soon. The events of the past twenty-four hours have just accelerated the process.”

I just looked at him and nodded as if to understand what he was saying and as I began to ask another question he interrupted and shocked me with “John, you’re not carrying today are you?”  I looked him in the eyes and said “Of course I am Doug. You know the way things are today, I would not leave home without it.” He shook his head and firmly advised me “Look, we’ve know each other for years. I’m letting you go straight home but do not get caught by another officer again on the streets with your weapon. They will confiscate it now. Only Federal, State and Local authorities are allowed to be out in public armed for the next sixty days and that edict will become public at 9 a.m. when the President issues a series of Executive Orders we have been advised on already. Go home. Tune into the news and watch what they tell you to do. I’m being generous another officer will not be as nice.”

With that, I shook his hand, told him if there was anything I could do to call me and he promised to call me tomorrow night when his eight hour off shift began. He had been on the eight on, eight off shift now since six o’clock Monday morning and it was wearing on him. I thanked him and headed straight home, dying to know the new orders and laws of our President which apparently suspended our CCW rights among many other things. It was seven thirty-five in the morning, leaving me plenty of time to make it and start securing our home a bit more than I had previously.  I called my wife and told her what had happened and she burst into tears, crying over and over again the words “Why, damnit, why?”

Why indeed.

February 24, 2010 07:35 A.M. Central Time

Mike had been up for three hours now and thankfully it was a quiet night for once. The National Guard had set up a roadblock on I-94 up by the North Dakota border to slow down the troublemakers and the punks who were trying to hijack the trucker screaming into the C.B. radio yesterday had been captured, well, two alive that is, and taken into state police custody.  As Mike walked into the house he stomped the frost and muddy ice off of his boots before removing the layers of winter clothes when his wife yelled out “Breakfast honey, eggs, bacon and toast the way you like it!”  Mike was somewhat tired after two days of adventure and keeping that truck and reefer ready to go should his company ever figure out how to pay him back and keep his unit fueled up yet relieved to be home where he could protect his wife and insure the safety of this little farm he had acquired after years of hard work and honest living. “Honest living, huh” he thought to himself as the radio began blaring with the local host saying “Buckle up America, the ride is about to begin. This is KBRF 1250 AM turning programing over now to the USIA and the Dawn in America program with important information from now until the President’s briefing at 8 A.M. central.”

Mike looked at his wife and said it as plainly as us Midwesteners could: “What the hell is this crap?” With that his wife started to tear up and Mike said quickly “No, No, No honey, not the breakfast, this crap on the radio! I’m sorry, I know you’ve been stressed out!” She whipped back at him with that ‘eye’ that men fear and said “Well now mister, that’s better. You know I’m stressed out too. I’ve been bottling and canning and filling up water jugs and sandbags working my butt off with you side by side. And you have YET to explain to me as to why we are doing all this!” Mike assumed the whipped puppy dog position his face staring down into the egg yolk and replied politely “I think we’ll know in about twenty minutes sweetie. Sorry I snapped at you.” She nodded, hugged him and then walked into the living room to settle down in front of the television to find some sort of coverage as to what was going on.

“Mike” she yelled out emphatically, “You won’t believe this. This Dawn in America stuff is on every channel, even ESPN and the Weather Channel!” He couldn’t resist the chance to lighten the mood and yelled back “HBO Latino and The Playboy Channel too?” That triggered the classic “Very funny mister, get your tail in here after you clean the dishes up after breakfast, now I’m worried!” she yelled back. Just as Mike finished breakfast and started to wash his plate the doorbell rang. “I’ve got it his wife yelled” and before Mike could yell “NO” and grab his shotgun she had opened the front door. “Mike, don’t shoot, it’s me Jack” and sure enough it was Deputy Monckton shaking snow and ice off of his coat in the entry way to the home. “Jack, are you nuts? Aren’t you supposed to be on duty now?” Mike asked. The deputy explained that his shift ended at eight and he wanted to watch the big announcement because as he put it “the life of the Sheriff’s department is going to get rough” with what ever the President said. “Have a seat over there, Jack, do you need some coffee?” Mike’s wife asked politely. Jack nodded and asked for black with sugar and she headed off to the kitchen. It was now 7:50 A.M. and the anticipation was building but the disgust for the almost comic like happiness on the teleivsion started to upset Mike and Jack. “Sounds a lot like the AFRTS crap from ‘Nam, doesn’t it Jack?” Mike asked. Deputy Monckton bristled and started a diatribe about how every time they lied to them in the field about how wonderful things were they got into the fire fight of their lives. Then he said something profound to Mike that he and his wife had never considered; that the fire fight was about to begin again because these clowns didn’t have a clue what they were doing.

February 24, 2010 8:55 A.M.

Tom woke up with his wife Sandy to find that she had elected to go to her Mom’s and check on her this morning and would come home some time this afternoon. Normally Tom would not be alarmed by this fact except that he had just heard that the Executive Orders were about to be issued and somewhat panic stricken his mind started to race. “What if they set up road blocks? What if she’s driving drunk? She didn’t take my car I hope. What if she didn’t check her gas? Oh now, does she have enough cash? Oh God, what do I do if she’s in trouble? What do I do?”

Not being the advanced planner he thought he was, he grabbed the phone only to find out it was dead. “Oh my God, the government has cut the lines. They are coming to get me. What did I say on the message board. Did I offend a Fed? Oh Lordy, what did I do?” and as Tom was hyperventilating into the moment his cell phone rang.  It was his wife who started rambling “Honey, it’s me, Sandy. I had to go check on momma as this snow storm was a shocker this morning. It’s pretty but some idiot hit the phone pole by our house so we haven’t had phones since about 5 a.m. I didn’t want to wake you up but I’m heading over to Peachtree City to check on her while the roads are good and before they freeze up.” Tom sensing a bit of relief then realizing she was miles away said in an urgent tone “Be careful sweetie, who knows what kind of nutcases are out there.” Sandy told him to quit being a worry wart and they said good-bye right at one minute until nine. “Crap, the TV” Tom yelled and ran to grab the remote and turn on CNN for the news.

February 24, 2010 9 A.M. ET

Twenty Minutes that Would Rock The World

President Obama approached the podium with Treasury Secretary Geithner, Senator Harry Reid, and Majority Leader Pelosi and began to speak:

“My fellow Americans, citizens of the world, today we embark on a New Day of Economic Justice for All. The imbalances which have destroyed our current system of banking will be corrected to a large degree during the next thirty days. This briefing is for the purpose of informing the public via the United States Treasury Department of what actions we have taken immediately to assure the world and our citizens that this government will fulfill its obligations in full and that all citizens entitled to benefits and assistance from this nation will receive them uninterrupted. With that in mind, here is Secretary of the Treasury, Timothy Geithner to outline the executive orders that went into effect at midnight last night and with the assistance of the Legislative Branches, represented by Senator Reid and Majority Leader Pelosi, how we will come into compliance with the new regulatory oversight our nation has agreed to.”

As Secretary Geithner shook Obama’s hand and walked up to the podium, Tom, Mike, Jack and John all had the same feeling despite being miles apart and different in every aspect of their status in society. Geithner began reciting the orders which impacted his department, primarily in the banking and financial sectors but curiously leaving out the enforcement responsibilities of the IRS and ATF as to allow Americans a sense of calm. The feeling of unease the gentlemen felt at home would be amplified in the next twenty-four hours as the publication of the Executive Orders on the Internet and the resulting chaos that ensued would change America forever.

Security for Liberty for All (The Day The Dollar Died Part VII) by John Galt is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at johngaltfla.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at www.johngaltfla.com.

johngaltfla.com/blog3/2009/11/29/a-new-day-of-economic-justice-for-all-the-day-the-dollar-died-part-v/

part 6

 

December 2, 2009

The entire story below is FICTION. Before I post Part VII I shall have a summary of the events  with some commentary since the first installment then a brief discussion about the Appendix I am putting together for the first seven parts.

February 24, 2010 9:45 A.M.

Sandy’s mother was no spring chicken but being a true Southern girl from Adel gave her the toughness and experience to ride out many a weird situation. Here she was seventy-nine years old and with a south Georgia name like Lillian, she knew that everyone would always come to “Mama Lil” for wisdom when times got tough or the pie didn’t turn out just right. As she looked up at her forty-five year old daughter, she just shook her head as she sipped the coffee in the IHOP her daughter insisted on taking her to this morning. Lillian glanced up and started on Sandy with “Honey, you didn’t have to come all the way over here. It’s not like it hasn’t snowed in Georgia before and I have plenty of fresh canned meat, fruits and vegetables. I’ll bet you haven’t even got a can of Spam in your house.” Sandy just sighed and replied “Mama, Tom went out after work Monday night and loaded up on all kinds of canned stuff that’s unhealthy and bought some toilet paper then made five bucks per package on it in the parking lot. We’re set for a few weeks and don’t worry about a thing with us. We’re worried about you.”

Lil leaned back as the waitress refilled the coffee then another server placed the first plate in front of Sandy loaded with eggs, bacon, pancakes and that selection of syrups that made the IHOP famous for creating business for dentists for decades before. While Lillian was stirring some sugar into her coffee, her plate full of three eggs over easy, the bacon still sizzling, two links and two pancakes with a bowl of steaming hot grits with butter was set in front of her. The waitress, obviously exhausted said politely “Is there anything else y’all need? This might be our last morning open if the supply truck doesn’t arrive, we’re going to run out of food in about an hour and that will be that.” Lil smiled and said in that drawl, “That’s OK honey, we’ll enjoy it as I’m sure y’all took care of us, I have more than I can ask for, don’t you Sandy?” Sandy looked puzzled and just nodded her head no as she dug into the best meal she had had in past day plus.

“Mama, what did you mean by that?” Sandy asked puzzled as she took a bite of butter and syrup loaded pancakes. “Pass me the butter and blueberry syrup please dear,” her mom replied, “and I’ll explain why you’re going to have to get used to what I grew up with as a baby.” Lillian went into a story Sandy had heard a million times before when she was growing up, but this time she paid attention. “Mama, why did you have to eat turnips every night? Didn’t that get old?” Sandy asked as she interrupted the story. “Honey, we were thrilled to take some fat back and turnips with black pepper on some nights frying them up to add some spice to the meals.  If we were lucky the potatoes would come in and we could have turnip and potato soup or maybe even a chicken once a month. You have to remember all that nonsense that Roosevelt spread in 39 about a recovery did not mean we recovered. Heck it took the draft to get rid of enough labor to open up the job market down there. We would have starved if it weren’t for the war” she replied seeing the concern in her daughter’s eyes.

As they finished breakfast an hour and a bit later, Lillian insisted that she gets the tip and left the waitress a nice new ten dollar bill. “Mama!” Sandy gasped out, “that’s too much!” Her mom glared back and sternly said “Don’t make a scene, she earned it and will probably be without work this afternoon. You need to worry about you and that husband of yours!” As they walked to the front with the receipt, Sandy reached in her wallet and handed the cashier her debit card and the receipt. The assistant manager, a somewhat exhausted fifty something lady from Villa Rica who looked like she’d been working three days solid said politely “Ma’am, we aren’t taking any cards at this time. The sign on the door says cash only.” Sandy looked over at her mom and with a wee bit of panic said “Mama, I don’t…” and before she could finish Lillian cut her off and handed twenty-five dollars in cash to the bedraggled employee and told her to keep the change. “Honey, I told you I was ready for this years ago” as she held her daughter’s hand and they walked out the door.

Sandy walked around to the passenger side of her GMC Sierra and opened the door and helped her mom into the SUV. As her mom was settling in fumbling with the seat controls and seat belts, Sandy walked around to the driver’s side and screamed out “OH MY GOD! HELP SOMEBODY HELP ME!” There was a small section of rubber hose sticking out of her gas tank nozzle, with what appeared to be drops of gasoline evaporating into the bitter winter wind. The adventure of Sandy in Peachtree City was about to begin even though she was less than two hours away from her home.

February 24, 2010 10:00 A.M. Central Time

Deputy Monckton finished the coffee and as he expected after the speeches from the President and Geithner a call came in on his radio. “All units return to base” was all the voice uttered and as everyone replied with a confirmation he waited for a pause to reply after a deep breath. He looked over at his old friend of many years and told him “This is the call we have all been dreading. We were trained for this in 2002 and 2007 but never thought it would really happen.” Mike said in a somewhat softened, uncharacteristic tone of voice “What call is that Jack? Hell, you have me spooked now.” The deputy handed Mike a copy of a memo they received on Monday morning from Washington from the Federal Emergency Management Agency and Department of Homeland Security. Mike scanned it and blurted out as he read it “NATIONALIZED? OUR LOCAL SHERIFF HAS BEEN NATIONALIZED?!? Jack are you freaking kidding me?”

“No Mike, I’m not. They have been waiting for the official call from the governor’s office relieving us of our state duties. Bush set this up as an option after the September 11th attacks but nobody ever thought we would see the orders signed by any President” Monckton said, putting his coat on and looking down at the floor. “Jack, just what will you do? You’re going to have some tough choices if they order you against the citizens of this town” Mike said now somewhat agitated. The deputy put his hat and gloves on and looked into Mike’s eyes, “I’ll do my job old buddy, just like I always have.”

February 24, 2010 11:00 A.M. Eastern Time

AUTOMATIC REDIRECT. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.

THANK YOU THE U.S.I.A.

- 404 UNAVAILABLE -

I was getting somewhat frustrated. The messages were similar, the annoyance complete. First my bank goes offline, then the Wall Street Journal, then the New York Times, then Drudge, then my message boards and now Yahoo and Google so I can’t even check my own email or chat with friends to find out what is going on in the rest of the country.  The only websites that I could access were state and Federal government websites which had not been  updated in twenty-four hours.  Just as I was ready to rip the computer out of the desk and smash it against the wall, the phone rang. And rang. And rang. And it kept ringing. “Damned voice mail must be down too” I thought to myself. Finally after about twenty rings I picked it up and the call that just made my day dandy began:

“Hello to the citizens of this household.”

I had to ignore it for a second and yell out “Honey pick up the phone, the President is calling us.”

“….to contact everyone we can and reassure them during this time of crisis in our nation. Our staff is working day and night to return all systems to normal. No doubt you have heard the speech this morning and perhaps the follow up information from Treasury Secretary Geithner about the functioning of our financial markets in the days ahead. I want to assure that this incident is under investigation as it is possible this attack on our nation’s financial security was an act of terror but in the interim, the collapse of our dollar is a needless rumor spread by the enemies of our great nation to diminish our ability to function in the world community. I shall repair, rebuild and insure that the United States dollar will forever be a currency that we the people can be proud of and have faith as an instrument of commerce. If you wish to receive more information about the new policies and obtain the application for G-GAP or Generalized Government Assistance Program, designed for all citizens you can go to ggap.gov or press 2 at the end of this phone call to leave a recorded message and request a consultation with your regional or neighborhood financial management specialist. Thank you and God Bless you and God Bless America and the citizens of this great planet.”

“BEEP..press 1 to end this call, press 2 to set up a consultation, press 3 for an emergency conference location near you, press 4 to replay the message or hang up to terminate this call.”

I slammed the phone down only to hear an angry swear word and down the hall a somewhat perturbed wife yelling at me “Damnit, I was on that line still when you slammed it!” After an apology and a promise not to do it again, I decided to see if I could get on any foreign news sites on the internet for any information and that was blocked also.  Just as I feared, the overseas websites were blocked including the BBC, Canadian newspapers and the wire services and that meant that the only source of information was our local television and radio plus the government websites. The information clamp down to prevent rampant rumors and speculation had begun and that was why my friend told me to go home and get ready for the announcements.

I went to the website mentioned and what appeared was a poorly constructed website with links to all sorts of government assistance programs and after searching it long and hard the information I wanted “Links to Important U.S. Government Agencies” which I clicked and after some scrolling found the U.S. Treasury website. I figured that they had to post some news about the banks and since I was unemployed now, how to access our accounts.  As the web page slowly loaded up, there was a new display from the one I had remembered in the past. The links were for everything from news to “Updated International Currency Exchange Information as of 02.24.10″ and a brand new section on “Investing in the New America.” Just to see what was going on in the world of international currencies, I clicked on the link about currency exchange and to this day I wish that I had not.

My eyes felt like they had bugged out of my skull when I saw the exchange rates:

1 IMF UCU = $8.00 U.S.

1 IMF UCU = $T 1.00*

1 Euro = $5.00 U.S.

1 Pound Sterling = $1.50 U.S.

10 Yen = $1.00

2 Yuan = $1.00 ** Exchange rate expires 03.25.10 future rates yet to be determined**

0.25 Swiss Franc = $1.00

*=$T not available for United States or United Kingdom citizens, for corporate or international trading purposes only with participating nations.

and on and on and on. I was stunned. Our currency had indeed been either reset or collapsed for some reason despite the cheery “we can do it” speeches of the past thirty days and this morning. Then it hit me like my wife clubbing me with a frying pan upside the head; what the heck is an IMF UCU? I clicked on the currency links provided and there it was a “brief” explanation:

“The IMF Universal Currency Unit is a new electronic exchange currency designed to expedite and accommodate all participating nations for intnational trade and settlements. The IMF UCU rates are set by the Joint Council consisting of the World Bank, IMF, and United Nations Bank Central Committee.”

As I sat stunned in my office chair, I clicked back to the main page and the other link was equally important that I reviewed next:

Elimination of United States Coinage and Expiration Dates

$0.01 United States Penny – Phase out date 04.01.2010

$0.05 United States Nickel – Phase out date 04.01.2010

$0.10 United States Dime-Phase out date 04.01.2010

$0.25 United States Quarter-Phase out date 05.01.2010

$0.50 United States Half-Dollar-Phase out date IMMEDIATELY

$1.00 United States Dollar Coinage-Phase out date IMMEDIATELY

Retail outlets were being instructed to accept all coinage but offer no change and instead provide SUSDR (Special United States Depository Receipts) for which customers will be able to deposit in their bank accounts or trade for electronic credits via the new GGAP cards. Holy smokes, I thought to myself, they just increased the price of everything and eliminated everything but paper currency! What was more alarming was that those of us who dealt with some international suppliers now had to figure out the impact of the new Trade Dollar and how we would do business again. Then it hit me hard as I realized my business was burned to the ground this morning and my wife’s job working for the state in the transportation department was still frozen as they said to “standby” for instructions for employees. Everything now had changed and the void of information except for that filtered by the government was creating more panic than reassurance.

February 24, 2010 1:42 P.M. Eastern Time

Suddenly the BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM of what sounded like gunshots rang out in what sounded like my back yard. Without hesitation I grabbed my shotgun and yelled at my wife to take cover in the bathtub with my pistol and the kittens. She yelled at me “Hell no, who’s going to cover the other windows!” Good point I thought as I crept window to window trying to figure out who or what was shooting at us. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! rang out again echoing through the neighborhood and soon sirens started to blare in the distance. I would hear the noise about every few minutes and figured it was a gang gun fight or a homeowner defending themselves from the scumbags of the world.

As I peered out of the blinds in my side window, I placed my finger over the trigger guard only to see our neighbor’s ten year old kid carrying a piece of plywood and James standing on a ladder with his nail gun firing away blasting nails into the wood to secure the wood over the windows. I walked over to my wife and handed her the shotgun telling her what was going on and talk to him. “James just what the hell are you doing? We are not in hurricane season son!” I yelled at him. He wiped his sleeve on his forehead to get the sweat out of his eyes, sat the nail gun down on the top of the ladder and stepped down. “We’ve already been hit by the hurricane and I’m not going to take any chances. You should do the same thing John so you can sleep at night as I’m hearing stories from the neighborhood of a lot of break ins and armed burglaries in other parts of towns including home invasions and worse” he replied with a very worried look on his face. “James, just how the heck are you going to see who is coming to your house if you have all the windows boarded up and what if you need to get out due to a fire?” I asked innocently enough. “Same way you would deal with it John” he replied motioning over to his shotgun leaning up against the wall.

“Maybe we should start a neighborhood watch and block off the cul-de-sac so we can guard each other’s homes” he suggested. I told him it was not a bad idea and when he was through asked him if I could borrow his nail gun. He was right I realized. The hurricane had hit and this time we had to board the windows up to be safe afterwards, not before the storm. Little did I realize how insane his suggestion was though about a neighborhood watch. The BMW and champagne crowd we lived among were totally clueless as to what was going on in the real world and as long as the sheeple networks continued to broadcast non-news related drivel, they would not take the seriousness of our situation at heart. I now realized what happened when you’re trapped in suburbia and limited with a route to escape or deal with the new reality.

Security for Liberty for All (The Day The Dollar Died Part VII) by John Galt is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at johngaltfla.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at www.johngaltfla.com.

johngaltfla.com/blog3/2009/12/03/pass-me-the-butter-and-blueberry-syrup-please-the-day-the-dollar-died-part-vi/

Part 7

 

johngaltfla.com/blog3/2009/12/07/security-for-liberty-for-all-the-day-the-dollar-died-part-vii/

part 8

 

johngaltfla.com/blog3/2009/12/16/cq-cq-is-anybody-out-there-the-day-the-dollar-died-part-viii/