The Return of Elliott Eastman

by Ryan, Ignatius

  “One guess might be the bill to reduce the number of military bases around the world. They can’t be happy with that idea. They want to keep wasting your tax dollars so they can line their pockets. Don’t you, the American taxpayer deserve better? If you think you deserve better and you think lobbyists should be barred from Capitol Hill, text 151. If you think everything is fine and wish to preserve the status quo, text 152. Note: Rep. Barney Martin and his entire family took a trip to Italy and France a few months back. The whole $38,000 bill was paid for by Maliburton. How do you think he’ll vote?”

  The YouTube version went viral in a matter of hours with over 9 million hits.

  Another full page exposé in the New York Times showed Rep. Wilson Jenkins walking down the steps of Capitol Hill laughing with Aaron Barr of Podesta Group, a lobbying firm with ties to Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Egypt and the Arab Emirates. The video was shot from a hundred feet away and the two men obviously believed they were alone and could not be recorded, but Elliott’s men had some of the most sophisticated listening devices available. Rep. Jenkins is on the House Financial Services Committee.

  Jenkins could be heard saying, “Some damn fee to cut into derivatives and futures earnings. Who do they think they are dealing with? We’ll just add an amendment to cut Medicare funding. We’ll see if the Democrats are willing to throw grandma out of her rocking chair or cut into banking profits.”

  A voice over as the men continued down the steps said, “The American Government is a disaster. Corporations and special interest groups run the country through the influence of lobbyists in Congress. Congress does not check the power of lobbyists because of greed. The only way to end government corruption is to eliminate the power and access of the lobbyists. As an American citizen, if you think you deserve better text 151, if you are happy with the status quo, text 152.”

  When Elliott saw it he couldn’t suppress a smile.

  “Oh that’s beautiful work, Archie,” Elliott said to himself.

  The last op-ed piece, again paid for by Elliott Eastman, was displayed in all the major newspapers across the country. It showed an elderly man with a stocking cap and grizzled gray beard sitting in a large cardboard box, his hands wrapped in socks with the ends cut out, a grimace on his face as he scooped a wedge of cat food out of a can with one filthy finger. The picture, which took up half a page, was a startling one that universally caused a revulsion reflex in most people.

  The editorial read; “You’ve worked hard all your life. You played by the rules and paid your dues.”

  The photo on the lower half of the page showed an elegantly dressed gray haired man climbing into a Rolls Royce with the door being held by his chauffer beneath the Wall Street sign.

  The caption read: “Don’t you think it’s time someone else paid their fair share. Text 151 if you think a nominal fee on stock transactions (for five years) is fair, or if you’re happy with the status quo, text 152.”

  Elliott’s cell phone rang for the hundredth time that day, but he recognized the President’s private number.

  “Hello Paul,” he answered.

  “Elliott. You’ve outdone yourself. That half page ad with the old man in the box was a thing of beauty,” the President stated enthusiastically.

  “Thanks, although I can’t take credit for it. I just happen to know an Internet whiz that is linked to hundreds of other very creative people.”

  “Still, it’s got to be sending a powerful message to the House of Representatives and will probably cost Wilson Jenkins and Aaron Barr their jobs.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes. What’s really going to rattle their cages is the results of the text messaging,” added Elliott.

  “Any numbers in yet?”

  “I was about to check with my man Archie.”

  “Good, let me know what he has for us.”

  “Will do, but let’s not get carried away. This was the first salvo. The opposition will gather their forces and fight back. Winning over a majority of the House to our way of thinking is going to be a much tougher battle,” Elliott reminded the President.

  “I’m realistic, but look what we’ve accomplished in just a few short weeks. The banks have reduced consumer lending rates and Sallie Mae has done the same. Consumer spending is up and rising dramatically. The GDP numbers for the fourth quarter are going to show a two percent jump, at least that’s what the projections are on a preliminary basis. And from what I hear from my people in Congress, we almost have enough votes to pass HR 2239. I will be the president who tamed the deficit.”

  “The big banks will fight the transaction fee. They don’t like the fact that the Securities and Exchange Commission is going to set up its own lock box for the fees.”

  “It’s the only way I will set it up. We must keep our promise to the people and make this a dedicated account for the sole purpose of eliminating the deficit.”

  The pain in Elliott’s side suddenly flared anew and he struggled to stifle a groan.

  “Paul, let me touch base with my Internet people and I’ll get back to you shortly.”

  “Are you okay? Your voice sounds funny.”

  “I’m fine, just a case of the hiccups.”

  The President laughed. “Okay, I’ll let you go. I look forward to your next phone call.”

  Elliott clicked off his phone, then doubled over and gasped. He struggled over to his desk, grabbed the small bottle of pills Dr. Yates had given him and took three. He fell into his chair and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. He sat still for about five minutes until he started to feel a little better and then placed the call to Backspace.

  “Archie, Elliott here. Is there any news on the text survey?”

  “Yes, it’s huge. I’ve never seen anything like it. All three of the surveys are off the charts. Reports from my number crunchers indicate over 92% of the responders are texting with ‘yes’ answers on all three questions and, get this, there have been over 30 million responses!”

  “Good lord,” Elliott exclaimed. “That’s far beyond my expectations.”

  “And they’re still coming in,” Archie added. “You know what the pundits will say. They’ll call it the youth vote, because mom and dad don’t text.”

  “Can we run a demographic on who sends text messages? I’m sure Verizon and AT+T will have some numbers on that, but my thought is ‘it’s about time’. The young are the most disenfranchised of all Americans. To get a response like this is nothing short of extraordinary.”

  “I agree.”

  “Maybe we should play that angle up,” Elliott said thoughtfully.

  “Consider it done. I’ve got the perfect idea.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  The two men hung up. After Elliott passed the good news on to the President he retreated to the restroom and vomited several times. There was blood in the mix. He then walked slowly back to the den, took four more pills and went straight to bed.

  Chapter Twenty

  The ‘War on the Deficit’ bill became a hot potato. Any member of the House who was seen as voting against it would be a pariah in the eyes of an aware public, but any member voting for it would be ostracized by the corporate community. It was becoming a showdown of epic proportions, but a bill in committee is different. Committees are run by a chairman who may have a different agenda, a chairman who may have to answer to a lobbying firm which he is beholden too. Committee meetings are supposedly for investigating the relative merits of some aspect of a bill. Lobbyists lurk in the hallway outside the committee meetings just waiting for chance to bend the ear of those in the know once they emerge.

  But the real meetings are off site where the power brokers exert enormous pressure on committee members. Little is shared regarding what happens in those sessions.

  In this case, both the Finance Committee and the Appropriations Committee were selected by the Speaker of the House to review the bill. They had thirty days to send their recommendations to the floor of the House. If
they did not respond at all, the bill would die. It was called ‘being killed in committee’, and many a bill had met its fate this way. Three weeks passed and nothing was heard from either committee. It looked as though the bill was going to fade away.

  Elliott was seething. He was pacing the floor of his home office in his Colorado ranch when his cell phone rang. It was President White.

  “Hello Paul,” Elliott said.

  “Hi Elliott. I’ve got that sinking feeling.”

  “I do too.”

  “How could they shelve a bill that is probably the finest piece of legislation on behalf of the American people since the Civil Rights Bill?” the President asked.

  “If I recall correctly, the Civil Rights Bill didn’t get passed without a fight,” Elliott commented.

  “Fight? I’d love a fight. I’ve had Jeff Archer, my head of the Government Accounting Office, look at the bill and crunch the numbers. He enthusiastically endorsed it. I’ve also spoken to George Madsen, the Director of the National Economic Council, and he thinks it’s a stroke of genius. It provides a road map for solving all our ills in a few short years. I’ve asked both men to talk to the committee heads, the Republican Sam Whitback from Kansas for the Appropriations Committee and the Republican from Texas Ray Haley Hutchinson for the Finance Committee, but they couldn’t get anywhere with them. I took it upon myself to speak with Hutchinson and he said he couldn’t back it. He said it was too far reaching. The economy was too fragile for something that was such a game changer on so many levels.”

  “Oh hog wash,” Elliott growled. “Isn’t Hutchinson the one who was backing an earmark for almost a million bucks for ‘Beef Improvement Research’ at some plant in Texas owned by his cousin?”

  “The same.”

  “How did we reach such a sick and twisted place in our history, Paul? The framers of the Constitution would jump off the roof of the Capitol if they could hear what goes on behind those doors.”

  “It’s the damn lobbyists, but what can we do?”

  “We have seven more days to wait and see if the committees do anything, but I think we both know what they are going to do. They aren’t going to report it to the floor where the House members can vote on it, so it is dead. We could press for a Motion to Suspend the Rules and force the bill to the floor, but the Speaker of the House, Nick Cobbings, is a Republican from Oklahoma and close friends with Sam Whitback. The Speaker has the discretion for recognition of a Motion to Suspend and will request a ruling from the Committee that has jurisdiction over the bill. Sam Whitback will simply suggest the Motion to Suspend be denied.”

  “And even if H.R. 2239 made it to the floor, the Motion to Suspend allows for the addition of amendments. They’ll amend the thing until it no longer looks anything like what was originally submitted,” The President added.

  The two men fell silent mulling over their limited options.

  “This is November eighteenth?” Paul asked.

  “Yes.”

  “The House will adjourn for the balance of the year in eleven days. We don’t have any time.”

  “We could try for a Motion to Discharge which would pull the bill out of committee and bypass the Speaker. It sends the bill right to the floor for a vote by the entire House, and it cannot be amended, but let me think. When the Motion to Discharge is approved by a majority of the House it still has to sit in layover for another week, so the House members get a chance to review it. There are only eleven days until they adjourn for the year. Even if we tried for a Discharge Petition the layover period is another week, so we’re three days short, we don’t have time to pull off a discharge before they adjourn for the year. Damn.”

  “If I recall my congressional history correctly there have only been two successful Motions to Discharge in the last twenty five years,” Paul White observed.

  “Good, then we’re due,” Elliott replied. “If we could just find those extra three days.”

  “And it sometimes takes months to get the 218 majority votes needed in the House for an approval of the Motion to Discharge,” the President interjected.

  “I know,” Elliott responded in a dejected tone, “but it doesn’t have to take that long. In theory it could take fifteen minutes to get the 218 votes.”

  “You’re dreaming,” the president murmured.

  “There has got to be a way. I’m tempted to try for a National Referendum.”

  “This isn’t Romania. The United States does not allow for Mandatory Referendums, we have only ‘Informational or Optional Referendums’,” the President reminded the former senator.

  “I know, I know, but if the percentages of approval are anywhere near what the text message survey revealed, it still might serve to put the House members on notice as to what their constituents would like them to do.”

  “So you think the members of the House are concerned with what the wishes of their constituents might be?” the President asked with an ugly chuckle.

  “You seem to have become more cynical than when I knew you as a senator,” Elliott observed.

  “And you’re not?”

  “We have eleven days,” Elliott murmured. “If we put on a major media blitz and file the Motion to Discharge on the 31st day, in other words the moment the thirty days is up in Committee which is this Friday, then we can somehow force congress to delay the adjournment and then force a vote on the Motion to Discharge …”

  The president chuckled. “You’re going to keep congress in session over Christmas?”

  “If I must.”

  “Fat chance. Don’t torment yourself. We don’t have time. It’s the damn one week layover provision that’s killing us,” Paul replied.

  Elliott swore under his breath. “Layover so the members of the House can read the bill. They rarely even bother reading the bill; they just go along with committee recommendations.”

  “I’ve only been part of one Motion to Discharge. Are you sure once it reaches the House floor it doesn’t allow for the amending process?”

  “I’m ninety nine percent sure, but I’ll consult my rules manual and get back to you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Look Paul,” Elliott pleaded, “we can do this. There must be something we can do. Can you have your staffers contact the committee members and see what they’re up to? We have to try. I plan on going on the offensive first thing in the morning.”

  “Knock yourself out. I’ll talk to the staffers, but don’t get your hopes up.”

  Before they hung up Elliott said, “Paul, I still feel like there’s something we’ve missed.”

  “What we’re missing is time. Once the House adjourns sine die, for the remainder of the year the bill is dead.”

  ‘And so am I’ though Elliott.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The following morning Elliott woke early and went to work. Over coffee he flipped through the pages of the massive publication of Congressional Research Services rules and procedures and determined the Motion to Discharge didn’t allow for any amendments to be added to the bill which worked in his favor, but he found little else to give him hope. The former senator was angry, and this was becoming a no-holds-barred fight. He contacted Backspace and suggested a new video. The Internet wizard ran with it. He called Eddie Kelley and James Lally with explicit instructions regarding Sam Whitback, Ray Hutchinson and Nick Cobbings.

  He then pulled up an article he’d cobbled together in support of H.R. 2239 with bullet points aimed at certain demographics. The elderly he approached with the funding of the Social Security lock box; the groups against war and the deficit hawks with the cutting of the military bases; the young with a general comment about the stock, futures and derivatives fees eliminating their obligation to provide funding for previous generations retirements, and a closing comment about there being a much brighter future in just a few short years He sent it to his printing company for fine tuning along with instructions to buy three pages in USA TODAY. At the bottom of the article was an attachment
of a tear out and mail in coupon requiring the voter’s name, address, a statement warranting they were of voting age and a space to write a comment to their legislator. He included the mailing address and phone number for every member of the House of Representatives. He closed with a phrase meant to exhort the reader to make a change today and tell your friends to do so too.

  By noon he was feeling weak and frustrated and needed to lie down for a while. As he closed his eyes he quietly wondered if he was going to wake up again.

  Mr. Archie ‘Backspace’ Conner’s next YouTube video went viral faster than the first. It showed a dark haired young woman in a tank top and cut-off blue jeans with a backpack. She stated in a very clear voice, “Hey you, yeah, I’m talking to you; the guy in the suit sitting in Congress. There were over 65 million text messages in response to three political questions. Over 90% of them were ‘yes’ responses. What does that tell you? I’ll tell you. The American people have spoken. We’re here. We’re watching. We’re aware and we will be heard!! If H.R. 2239 dies in committee we will be looking at you!”

  It ended with a shot of thousands of people, probably at a rock concert, standing up and cheering. The mail campaign over the next few days resulted in millions of letters and calls to members of the House of Representatives, but still the bill sat stalled in committee.

  A second YouTube video went out just as the 30th day dawned over H.R.2239. It was still not out of Committee. This video was brutally blunt. Eddie Kelley and James Lally had done their jobs well. They had managed to capture video of Sam Whitback conferring with a lobbyist outside the House Finance Committee meeting. They were even able to identify the lobbyist. They did the same for Ray Hutchinson and Nick Cobbings. Archie converted these to still photos and submitted them to major newspapers across the nations. The caption at the top read roughly the same for each photo. “Your House of Representative member Sam Whitback working closely with Buford Birnbaum, a lobbyist from Rogers, Cahalan and Birnbaum, to defeat your future; H.R. 2239.”