End of the World

by D Thomas Jewett

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  * * *

  “There's nothing illegal about this,” Dickens said after the Treasury Department's legal team reviewed the currency. “As long as it doesn't say legal tender there's nothing wrong with it.”

  “If these (NORFED)[48] people want to issue their own money, so be it. It will be interesting to see what the public thinks,” Rolnick said [director of research for the Federal Reserve Bank of Minneapolis].

  “It's not counterfeit money,” concurs Ron Legan, Special Agent in Charge (SAC) of the Seattle, Wash., Secret Service field office. Having investigated this regulatory matter closely, he concludes that the silver certificates are well within the highly restrictive boundaries of American monetary guidelines. “We determined there wasn’t a federal currency violation,” he explains. Although Legan concedes to being “skeptical” of NORFED, he admits there have been no “defrauds” or “complaints” filed against the political organization.

  * * * * *

  Our Money – Broken Promises

  RALEIGH (International Press) – State Representative Glen Bradley suggests that the federal dollars in your wallet could soon be little more than green paper backed by broken promises; and he wants North Carolina to issue its own legal tender backed by silver and gold.

  The Youngsville Republican is drafting legislation that would require the state government to accept gold and silver coins as payment for taxes and fees.

  Bradley said that if the state treasurer starts accepting precious metals as payment, it could prod the private sector to follow suit. This could allow residents to trade gold for groceries.

  Chapter 13

  London ...

  Jeremy stood against the onrushing mob as it jostled, pushed, and brushed past him. With Millbank Tower in the background, he held a microphone up to his mouth and posed for the camera. “This is Jeremy Bullitt reporting for International News. I’m here at Millbank Tower, the headquarters of the Conservative party, where many thousands of students are protesting the government’s huge increases in college tuition.”

  Just at that moment, a girl was pushed against Jeremy. “Miss? Miss?” Jeremy shouted into the microphone as he grabbed the girl’s arm. An angry smile spread across her face as she turned and faced into the camera.

  “Can you tell us why – why you’re here? What do you hope to achieve?” He shouted and then shoved the mic into the girl’s face.

  The girl’s mouth crooked up in a smirk. “I’m ‘ere to protest the government’s demand that we pay more for our education. They want us to pay 9,000 pounds a year!” Her face contorted into a mask of anger as she shouted, “They’ve spent our money on their bloody wars and bailouts for the banks, and now they’re taking more from the people so they can give it to the bloody IMF and the wealthy bankers!”

  “But Miss,” Jeremy shouted into the mic, “How will you make yourself heard? How will you get their attention?”

  The young woman shifted her feet as the mic was again shoved in her face. “Well, some of the people plan on property damage. They’re gonna break some windows and destroy furniture and computers and whatnot. And some ‘ave talked about setting fire to the building.”

  “But isn’t that dangerous?” Jeremy asked.

  “For who?” The girl shouted. “If you work ‘ere, you’re part of the bloody problem. And then you best gird yourself for violence – ‘cause you’re already committing violence against us!”

  The camera was jostled as protesters bumped into the cameraman.

  Suddenly, the sounds of shattering windows emanated from the building. “Come on! Come on!” Jeremy gestured to the cameraman as he darted through the crowd toward the base of the building. They quickly reached the building, and Jeremy lined up in front of the camera, while behind him there were boys kicking and throwing chairs at a window. Jeremy shouted into the camera, “And here we have protesters committing violence against the Tory headquarters. But – Wait! Oh, Wait!”

  He turned and focused the microphone on breaking glass. And then he turned to the camera and shouted, “Look. Look! The students are running through the broken window!”

  * * *

  Allystair Shaw was the mob, and the mob was Allystair Shaw. And the mob was moving quickly toward Millbank Tower; shouting, chanting, screaming, and cheering. And Allystair found himself center stage in the mob as he was jostled from one side to another. Blimey; I don't care, he thought. We need to tell the bloody bastards they can't raise our tuition!

  Allystair marched up to the building with the rest of the mob. He approached a pane of glass and began kicking it; and then he ducked as students on either side of him began throwing chairs at the glass. The students were yelling, “BREAK THE GLASS! BREAK THE GLASS! KILL ‘EM! KILL ‘EM!”

  The glass cracked, then cracked still more under the incessant assault. And then pieces of the glass smashed inward as the students hit it again and again, until finally the window was gone and shards of glass covered the ground.

  Allystair waved his arms to attract the crowd. “C’mon,” he shouted. “Let’s get the bloody bastards!” The crowd poured into the building.

  Once inside, Allystair picked up a stick and whipped it around, smashing windows, fixtures, and whatever else was in its path. And then he smashed furniture, swinging the stick above his head and bringing it down on chairs, tables, and anything else in its path! And as the crowd’s chanting rose in intensity, he joined in the shouting, “Tories suck! Tories suck! ...”

  Allystair stopped his assault and watched as a boy climbed high, and then ripped a large placard from the wall – the crowd let out a raucous cheer as it fell. With anger in his eyes, Allystair produced a can of spray paint. “Watch me! Watch me!” He shouted as his hand moved deftly with the can, rendering pictures of sex organs on the wall.

  By now the building was overflowing, with protesters breaking furniture, computers, and anything else they could grab.

  Allystair jumped down from the desk and looked toward the middle of the room, where some protesters were now lighting flares. “Watch out!” he heard one of them shout, as they all ran away from the fire.

  And all the while, the chanting continued. “Tories suck! Tories suck! ...”

  Allystair turned and watched the police getting into a line – a barricade formation. They glanced back and forth at each other as the line fleshed out.

  And then the barricade of police began to move toward the mob; advancing in an inexorably slow but steady pace, protected as they were by their helmets, face masks, shields, and their phosphorescent green vests.

  Allystair watched as they moved toward the mob – toward him – like pawns in a chess match.

  He glanced at the protesters around him, noting they were girding for a fight they couldn’t win.

  Blimey! I don’t like the bloody odds on this, Allystair thought. I’m gettin’ outa ‘ere!

  Leaving the rest of the crowd to fend, Allystair retraced his steps and went out through a window. He began making his way through the crowd, past a cameraman. And then someone grabbed his arm. Taken off guard as he was, he turned to find a newsman asking him questions.

  Jeremy Bullitt spoke into the microphone, “Sir? Sir? Why are you here? What do you hope to accomplish?”

  Allystair’s face was twisted in anger as he spoke into the microphone, “Aye, mate. I’m ‘ere to protest the bankers and their bloody austerity. It’s the bankers, mate. They’re stealing from the people, all so they can ride around in their bloody limousines!”

  “And, sir. How will you stop the bankers from taking your money?”

  “I’ll kill ‘em,” Allystair replied. And then he shouted into the camera, “I’LL KILL ‘EM ALL!”

  * * *

  With a shudder, Mikaela flipped the tele’s off switch. They are so angry, she thought. I hope I never meet HIM in a dark alley!

  Well, I need to get going. I’ll talk with Josh first. She rose from her ch
air and made the journey down to Josh’s office.

  Josh looked up from his work just as Mikaela entered his office. “How's tricks?” She asked.

  Josh let out a chuckle. “Funny you should ask.”

  Mikaela grinned. “I'm going up to a meeting. They're going to want to know what our short position on silver is. Are you current on that?”

  “Yes,” Josh replied. “We've sold about 3 billion ounces short.”

  “Wow,” Mikaela smiled. “You guys have been busy. There's only 1 billion ounces of silver above ground.”

  “Yeah. Well, we've sold a bunch that doesn’t exist. But don't worry. The regulators are covering for us. We have 'em on the payroll, and they’ll do whatever we tell 'em.”

  Mikaela hesitated, frowning. “Did you hear about the ruckus over at Millbank?”

  Josh raised his eyebrows. “No. What happened?”

  “There’s a mob over there protesting loss of benefits for school, or some such nonsense.”

  Josh shrugged. “Why is that important?”

  “Well, they had to call in the police and take a bunch of people to jail.”

  “And?”

  “And,” Mikaela met his gaze, “it’s in our backyard.”

  Chapter 14

  Today's hearing provides us with twelve billion reasons to be concerned about fraud, waste, and abuse. In a thirteen-month period, from May, 2003 to June, 2004, the Federal Reserve sent nearly twelve billion dollars in cash, mainly in one-hundred dollar bills, from the United States to Iraq. To do that, the Federal Reserve Bank in New York, had to pack 281 million, ah – million individual bills including more than 107 one-hundred dollar bills, onto wooden pallets, to be shipped to Iraq. The cash weighed more than three-hundred and sixty-three tons, and was loaded onto C-130 cargo planes to be flown into Baghdad. The numbers are so large, that it doesn't seem possible that they're true. Who in their right mind, would send 360 tons of cash into a war zone? But that's exactly what our government did. Stuart Bowen, the special inspector general for the Iraq reconstruction, analyzed the cash transfer, and concluded that when the money arrived in Iraq, the coalition provisional authority, which was run by our government, had not established sufficient managerial financial and contractual controls to ensure that the cash was used in a transparent manner. Even worse, Mr. Bowen concluded that the coalition provisional authority handed over the money to the Iraqi ministries “without assurance the money was properly used or accounted for.”

  I'm releasing a memorandum this morning that describes this mind-boggling situation in more detail; and I'm pleased that Mr. Bowen and Ambassador Paul Bremmer, who led the coalition provisional authority, are with us today to shed more light on what happened to the twelve billion dollars. I know Ambassador Bremmer has indicated in the past that it is unrealistic to expect the government to keep close track of money sent into a war zone. And I know the inspector general believes the opposite is true; and that strong standards are especially important if our government is sending billions of dollars of cash into a chaotic and violent environment. My concern is, that without strong standards, we have no way of knowing whether the cash that was shipped into the green zone ended up in enemy hands.

  - - - Henry Waxman, Congressman, Iraq Reconstruction Oversight & Gov't Reform Cmte. 2009

  * * * * *

  Yet again, Mark found himself enjoying the luxurious backdrop of 2128 Rayburn House Office Building. Seated as he was, he felt the air of ‘privilege’ permeating throughout the chamber. And although he didn’t personally care for it, he knew that many of the politicians and staff fed their egos on the enhanced stature provided within these – these ‘opulent’ surroundings!

  Mark’s eyes wandered around the perimeter of the chamber until they finally settled on the audience, where he noted that many attendees were yawning in response to the Fed Chairman’s droning voice. He smiled as he observed one young woman in particular – her head would frequently nod forward, and then she would jerk her head erect and it would tilt to the side. He chuckled as he watched her repeat it, again and again.

  But Mark grew bored watching the young woman, and so his eyes again wandered. He looked out over the chamber, seeing the witness table, and behind that, the audience. He was seated behind Congressman Roberts’ seat, on the top tier of the committee gallery’ and he had an unobstructed view of Chairman Cohan. The Fed Chairman appeared more robust than usual as he presented his case for Federal Reserve policy decisions. And with his penetrating eyes, he engaged each member of the committee.

  ... the committee chairman banged his gavel and announced, “At this time I recognize the gentleman from Texas, Mr. Roberts.”

  Roberts looked to his right. With a smile, he leaned over his microphone and replied, “Thank you, Mr. Chairman; and, ah – thank you for holding these hearings.” He then faced forward and addressed the Fed Chairman. “And a warm welcome to you, Chairman Cohan.”

  Chairman Cohan nodded and said, “Thank you, congressman.”

  Roberts smiled as he looked at Cohan and leaned over his microphone. “I see that you didn’t take my advice to seek other employment, Mr. Chairman. I must say I am deeply disappointed.”

  Chairman Cohan smiled but was otherwise silent.

  But then Roberts’ blue eyes focused on Cohan as he began his questioning. “Mr. Chairman, I am deeply concerned with the direction of our economy. Ah – measured by private free-market economists, price inflation is now, ah – above 11%, and the unemployment rate stands at 23%. These were, ah – calculated using the methods previously used by the, er – the federal government; so, they're not pulled out of thin air. As bad as this is, my big concern is your QE-2[49] program and the Fed buying up all the, ah – Treasury bill offerings. Obviously, you're buying these because no one else will, which suggests that the interest rates on them are too low to attract investors.”

  Roberts paused to allow his statement to sink in. Then he continued, “And then there's the, ah – results of the recent Fed audit. The Fed printed up more than $16 TRILLION DOLLARS and, ah – gave it out to domestic and foreign banks – and who knows who else got the money – but foreign banks received about one-third of the money even as people were losing their homes here and small businesses can't get capital to continue or expand their operations. And I note with some interest that two women married to Morgan Stanley executives received a loan of $200 to $300 million. So my question to you is: how do you justify the debasement of the dollar and pushing Americans into poverty, even as you bail out, er – banking interests around the world?”

  Chairman Cohan cleared his throat. His voice quivered as he responded. “Congressman, the Federal Reserve was founded, er – to try to address the problems of the financial panics that occurred back in the 19th century. Congress created the Federal Reserve as the, ah – lender of last resort, to ensure that no one would lose their money due to the failure of, ah – a bank; but more importantly, to ensure that the, ah – banking sector would not succumb to collapse, which would cause the ruin of our economy. To this end, Congressman, our primary charter is to, ah – stabilize the banks; making sure they continue to provide the capital and credit needed to run our modern economy. I understand that you are unhappy with the policy we've, ah – implemented. But please know that current policy is consistent with our, ah – primary and secondary mandates; to stabilize the banking sector, to maintain stable prices, and to create an environment that is conducive to full employment.”

  Congressman Roberts grimaced. And then he said, “But with unemployment at 23%, I don't see how your policy is doing anything to provide capital to business or to create jobs. In fact, Mr. Chairman, it appears to many of us that Fed policy is having the effect of sending even more jobs overseas.”

  Chairman Cohan smiled and said, “Well, that is a matter of opinion, which –”

  Roberts interrupted. “No, Mr. Chairman. It is a matter of economic fact, sir, that a weak currency will send capital flowing out of the country;
and without capital, jobs will not be created.” He took a deep breath and said, “With all due respect, Mr. Chairman, by debasing our currency, you are pushing jobs out of the U.S.!”

  An awkward silence descended over the chamber.

  Roberts took a deep breath and then said, “Continuing, Mr. Chairman. You have certainly noticed the, ah – shenanigans going on over in Europe. Greece and other countries could default or their governments collapse at any moment; and there are riots and, ah – looting going on constantly, it seems. And given that the Fed has seen fit to bail out, er – foreign banks to the tune of $5 Trillion or more, I must ask this question: Does the Fed have any plans to bail out Europe? Or any country within the European Union?”

  Chairman Cohan’s hands were shaking as he read from some notes. And then he said, “We have no plans to do so, Congressman.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Chairman. Now, it was reported that the New York Fed sent about $12 Billion over to Iraq and the money disappeared –”

  Chairman Cohan interrupted and said, “That allegation is absolutely bizarre, Congressman. I know of no instance where that has occurred.”

  But the Congressman continued without skipping a beat, “– and we are now seeing reports of the Fed sending money to rebels in middle eastern and north African countries.

  Chairman Cohan's lips tightened as his face turned red.

  The Congressman leaned over his microphone as he smirked. “And so I ask you, Mr. Chairman, by what authority is the Federal Reserve fomenting revolution in other countries?”

  Cohan’s face was crimson as he replied. “Congressman, your accusations are outrageous and unfounded. I know of no instance concerning any of your allegations.”