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Add to My Group(s)
Add to My Group(s)
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By Ed Cowan (about the author)
Become a Fan -- Page 5 of 6 page(s)
I gave him a chance to answer, but he only said, "And the answer is?"
"Because the billionaires want it that way; that's how they got to be billionaires, Mr. President. Low taxes and low wages and don't I know about the latter. I worked 17 years on the graveyard shift for $50 a night, my writing job."
He raised his eyebrows and nodded. "So what would you do about it?"
"Always, sir, go to the heart of the problem and solve it completely. It will save us all so much hassle in the long run. So, totally shutdown the border except for legitimate traffic, and we should quickly pass new immigration legislation that will return all non-citizens to their native land over a five-year period, that will pay them from $500 to $40,000 upon leaving, and that will totally shut down all immigration to the U.S. until American population is decreasing. The $500 would be for singles who have been here two years or less, and the $40,000 would go to a couple with four or more kids who have lived here 15 years or more. We allowed the people of the world to come here and steal our jobs, but it is time to send them home and expose the billionaires, who have used them"
He laughed softly, shook his head, and said, "You're consistent. Just solve the problem. I wish it were that simple... who will pick your lettuce, for example."
I laughed and answered, "The same farmer who grows his own organic veggies and sells them at the farmer's market where I shop. We need to ditch the factory farm paradigm and develop a local, organic, agricultural economy everywhere from the ground up, not top down, Mr. President. Real Americans will do the work as the aliens leave, but not for $50 a day. More like $150 a day."
"You know," he said quickly, then paused and said with an avuncular tilt to his head, "you can take this simplicity mode too far."
I shook my head. "Mr. President, none of our real problems are simple. I have only kept my solutions to succinct statements so they can be understood more easily. And how about the biggest lie of all for the sixth and final example of our fog of hypocrisy: that the Federal Reserve is our friend. We need the Fed, sir, like we all need cancer. The Fed is a cancer on our government that has bankrupted the entire world! And that, sir, brings me to my second overall point. You want some good news, Mr. President?"
I got up and reached across his desk for Brown's book. I took the book in my hands and parted it in halves. "You want good news, sir; here it is, the second half of this book. Here is how strongly I feel about this. If you abolish the Fed, nationalize all banks and re-charter them with strict charters including the need to borrow their funds from the federal government, and re-establish the government's sole power to create money... you do all of that, and you will create real prosperity like never seen before.You will go down in history as another-"
The President was putting his index finger in front of his mouth in the gesture of silence, and I stopped, puzzled. "We are doing that in degrees, Ed, but we must keep it quiet. Eighty-five percent of the interest the Fed collects off loans to the government is paid back in rebates to the Treasury. But I'm trying to keep this end run around the bankers quiet. They are now on the defensive, but to speak of nationalizing the Fed or the banks is like dropping a hornet's nest into the mix."
"Yes, I've read about the rebates to the Treasury in a recent posting by Ellen Brown. You think that can evolve into real reform?"
He replied quickly, "It will have to. Ah... to try to take charge our banking system while recovering from this hole... is... ah, out of the question right now."
He had me stymied again even though my argument was, we can't get out of our hole until we do take charge. I'm not sure he believed all he had just said, but I knew that he was no longer persuadable. There was nothing else to say. We both had been honest with each other, but the gap between us was as great as ever.
After a moment of awkwardness, he turned to me and said, "Well, Mr. Cowan, I can't thank you enough for coming and meeting with me. I thank you for the country. Don't think that you haven't made an effect on me. You have. But right now I have to do only what I can do politically at this time."
He stood up and so did I, but I wasn't at all happy. It seemed a lousy way to end it. I was trying to think of something to say to revive my argument, and he was obviously deep in thought as we strode to the door and faced each other.
"I want you to understand something," he said, looking me in the eye and speaking softly and sincerely, "I know you and millions of others are disappointed with many of my actions and choices so far."
Become a Fan -- Page 5 of 6 page(s)
"Because the billionaires want it that way; that's how they got to be billionaires, Mr. President. Low taxes and low wages and don't I know about the latter. I worked 17 years on the graveyard shift for $50 a night, my writing job."
He raised his eyebrows and nodded. "So what would you do about it?"
"Always, sir, go to the heart of the problem and solve it completely. It will save us all so much hassle in the long run. So, totally shutdown the border except for legitimate traffic, and we should quickly pass new immigration legislation that will return all non-citizens to their native land over a five-year period, that will pay them from $500 to $40,000 upon leaving, and that will totally shut down all immigration to the U.S. until American population is decreasing. The $500 would be for singles who have been here two years or less, and the $40,000 would go to a couple with four or more kids who have lived here 15 years or more. We allowed the people of the world to come here and steal our jobs, but it is time to send them home and expose the billionaires, who have used them"
He laughed softly, shook his head, and said, "You're consistent. Just solve the problem. I wish it were that simple... who will pick your lettuce, for example."
I laughed and answered, "The same farmer who grows his own organic veggies and sells them at the farmer's market where I shop. We need to ditch the factory farm paradigm and develop a local, organic, agricultural economy everywhere from the ground up, not top down, Mr. President. Real Americans will do the work as the aliens leave, but not for $50 a day. More like $150 a day."
"You know," he said quickly, then paused and said with an avuncular tilt to his head, "you can take this simplicity mode too far."
I shook my head. "Mr. President, none of our real problems are simple. I have only kept my solutions to succinct statements so they can be understood more easily. And how about the biggest lie of all for the sixth and final example of our fog of hypocrisy: that the Federal Reserve is our friend. We need the Fed, sir, like we all need cancer. The Fed is a cancer on our government that has bankrupted the entire world! And that, sir, brings me to my second overall point. You want some good news, Mr. President?"
I got up and reached across his desk for Brown's book. I took the book in my hands and parted it in halves. "You want good news, sir; here it is, the second half of this book. Here is how strongly I feel about this. If you abolish the Fed, nationalize all banks and re-charter them with strict charters including the need to borrow their funds from the federal government, and re-establish the government's sole power to create money... you do all of that, and you will create real prosperity like never seen before.You will go down in history as another-"
The President was putting his index finger in front of his mouth in the gesture of silence, and I stopped, puzzled. "We are doing that in degrees, Ed, but we must keep it quiet. Eighty-five percent of the interest the Fed collects off loans to the government is paid back in rebates to the Treasury. But I'm trying to keep this end run around the bankers quiet. They are now on the defensive, but to speak of nationalizing the Fed or the banks is like dropping a hornet's nest into the mix."
"Yes, I've read about the rebates to the Treasury in a recent posting by Ellen Brown. You think that can evolve into real reform?"
He replied quickly, "It will have to. Ah... to try to take charge our banking system while recovering from this hole... is... ah, out of the question right now."
He had me stymied again even though my argument was, we can't get out of our hole until we do take charge. I'm not sure he believed all he had just said, but I knew that he was no longer persuadable. There was nothing else to say. We both had been honest with each other, but the gap between us was as great as ever.
After a moment of awkwardness, he turned to me and said, "Well, Mr. Cowan, I can't thank you enough for coming and meeting with me. I thank you for the country. Don't think that you haven't made an effect on me. You have. But right now I have to do only what I can do politically at this time."
He stood up and so did I, but I wasn't at all happy. It seemed a lousy way to end it. I was trying to think of something to say to revive my argument, and he was obviously deep in thought as we strode to the door and faced each other.
"I want you to understand something," he said, looking me in the eye and speaking softly and sincerely, "I know you and millions of others are disappointed with many of my actions and choices so far."
Ed Cowan attended high school and the University of Texas in Austin, getting his BA in English in 1964. In 1965 he moved to Vermont, became a writer, and spent ten years, most of it on the staff at Montpelier High School after manning a fire tower (more...)
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