nobody gets to kill ideas. They try, but trying to fight an idea
is like trying to put a fire out with grease. The only thing that
kills an idea is itself.”
“That only works if you don't get caught,” Janus said with a
smile. “Instead, you're going to be put on trial and paraded in
front of everyone, and all of that mysticism will melt away like ice
cream on a June afternoon.”
“Oh, Janus.” I shook my head at him with a smile of my own.
“That assumes people will believe you've actually got me, when
they'll still see video statements from me, hear audio statements
from me... They're going to think you faked the trial, faked the
execution... They'll put it down in the list of things they know
their government's lied to them about, like the Kennedy assassination
and the banking crash of 2009. But you go ahead and try that. See if
it helps any in trying to keep the people from revolting.”
Apathe sighed. “You know a revolution is a futile action.”
“They told that to the founding fathers, too, that they were a
colony and how dare they think about breaking away from the Empire,
and so when they set up the country, they included language to say
that if we didn't agree with the actions our government was taking,
not only could we overthrow our government, but it would be our very
duty to do so. But people in power are always so reluctant to give it
up, which means we have to take it back. Somewhere after the turn of
the millennium, we the people let business and money buy this country
wholesale, but we've changed our mind, and you can't buy the country
any more.”
“Of course we can.” Janus rolled his eyes at me and snapped
his fingers to make a giant armchair appear for him to sit in. “We
can do whatever we damn well want. The people you represent, they
don't matter. They don't want to work; they want a free ride. They
want to be taken care of, and they want the rich, hard working people
to take care of them.”
I clapped my hands and a couch appeared for me to sit on. Both
Apathe and Janus raised an eyebrow, not quite sure how I did that,
but not wanting to ask how I did that, because it would be showing
weakness. “Rich and hard working are mutually exclusive terms, in
my experience. People who get to be rich think they're entitled to
everything they have, and that anyone who doesn't have what they have
is lazy, but really, the system is built to protect the wealthy, to
ensure they get to continue to use their wealth and remain where they
are. People aren't inherently lazy, but if the people at the top had
to spread their wealth to everyone, they wouldn't be able to buy
their gold-plated toilets or whatever. That's the thing that the rich
don't understand – they're systematically being taken care of.”
“You make it sound like there's a conspiracy of rich people.”
Apathe sat down on the couch with me, on the other end of it. “And
conspiracy theories are always nonsense.”
I cocked my head with an odd smile as I looked her direction. “Oh,
in that case, there is no Urban Warfare group; it's all an elaborate
prank.”
“That's not a conspiracy; that's a terrorist group.”
“Says you. I'd call it a revolutionary group of freedom
fighters. But it's all really semantics, isn't it? You call them
bankers; I call them organized criminals. You call them politicians;
I call them talking point platforms. It doesn't even matter which
side you're on any more – Republicans, Democrats... they're all too
invested in making sure they stay in office instead of taking care of
their constituents. That's why people started Occupying...
Everything. And while it didn't work the first time, you know what
they say, try, try, try again. So when Zucotti Park fell apart, a
dozen new Occupies started, and while they all failed, a bunch of
people across the country were inspired to try and cause chaos all
throughout the country. But I loved watching the rich people talking
about it all.”
I snapped my fingers and a floating TV screen appeared in the
middle of the air and showed a talking head from one of the networks
– you know which one, I'm sure – talking about how poor people
were taxing the upper class. “Don't you just want these people to
go and get jobs?” the stuffed shirt asked. “They want to sit
around all day, they want free stuff. They don't go out and look for
work. They blame bankers, when really, how does the daily life of a
banker have any impact on the daily life of a bum? They want to sit
around the house, smoke pot all day, have free healthcare and free
food. These people are a blight on the real Americans, the small
business owners who are trying to make their way in the world. Why
don't they go out and get fast food jobs, where they'll be making
money? And why do people making fast food think we need to increase
the minimum wage? It's a place for you to start working, not finish.
You should always be looking for a better job, trying to find some
place to climb up the ladder. Move to manager, become an owner,
whatever it takes. Stop being such a waste of air – do something
with your lives!”
I snapped my fingers again and the stuffed shirt froze in mid air.
“That's what get me, you know? He KNOWS you can't just wish
yourself a better job. Unemployment is at ten percent in this
country. One in ten people doesn't have a job. Over half of those
people have been without a job for over
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