Letter from Bill
Dec. 31, 2000
relaxing here on a break from some intensive thinking about the
future of the Mideast, which I've been doing with my good friends
Yasser Arafat and Ehud Barak, I stopped in at your web site, as
I so often do. There, I found an article
by two guys named Gene and Stu. (Very funny fellows, by the way,
especially that bit about Newt Gingrich as a cannibal! Let me tell
you, Hill and I got a good chuckle out of that one.) They speculated
as to what I would do when I retired. Now, I haven't made anything
public on this topic yet, but since these fellows came so close
to the mark, I thought that I'd announce my plans on your web site
first, if y'all are interested.
two fine young men said they thought I'd go into the entertainment
industry well, they got that part right. But it was the wrong
medium. Television just doesn't give me enough of a chance to display
my full vision to the American people, and Paula Jones could tell
you how I am about displaying myself! (That's just a little example
of what we, in the entertainment industry, call self-deprecating
humor.) No, boys, it's the movies for me. I've decided I'm going
to be a screenwriter. In fact, since I enjoy your web site so much
(although you do get a little feisty at times, Mr. Rockwell!) I'm
going to go even further, and include here a letter I just wrote
to my good friend, Stephen Spielberg, to give you an idea of the
kind of things I'm likely to be working on:
Steve, and thanks again for coming through in this last election
cycle Hill couldn't have done it without you and your buddies!
As you probably know, the constitution forbids me from serving a
third term. Therefore, I've been fishing around for something to
do once I retire, and I think I'd like to try my hand at screen
writing. I believe that the current crop of screenwriters are just
too tired and cliché-ridden to build a bridge into the 21st
century for American movies. But my fresh, bold, visionary screenplays
would do just that. Let me share with you a few of my ideas:
Cole, a well-meaning, honorable, but sadly mistaken scientist from
Kansas, revives a bunch of old dinosaurs from samples of their DNA.
In his theme park in Washington, DC, he brings back to life Calvin
Coolidge, J.P. Morgan, Andrew Carnegie, Henry Ford, Robert Taft,
and others of their long-dead breed. Immediately, these monsters
begin shredding the American safety net. Bill Winston, a handsome
chaos scientist from a backward southern state, warns Cole that
"Entitlements will find a way… no matter what precautions you take,
entitlements will break through. Entitlements just can't be stopped."
the end, it turns out that Winston was right the dinosaurs
are driven back to their lost world, Cole is forced to make a living
lobbying against Microsoft, and entitlements are able to grow freely
creature appears on earth that, superficially, seems to be human.
But his oddly stiff mannerisms and wooden speaking style give him
away as an alien. He comes from a planet on which the temperature
is rising at a critical level. (Unlike the earth, where thanks to
my administration's forward-looking environmental policies, the
climate has cooled.) Mistaking our planet for his, he is frantic
to do something about this "global-warming" he is afraid of.
is in danger from an evil government scientist, Knute Loverich,
a heavy-set southerner with thick white hair. The scientist, puzzled
by A.G.'s incessant talk of global warming, wants to experiment
on A.G. and look for evidence of higher-brain functions.
takes refuge with a bright southern boy from a broken family, little
Willie. Willie, a compassionate lad, is happy to shelter A.G, but
Willie gets angry with A.G. when he catches him making an extremely
long-distance call on the family phone. Willie disconnects the line,
but A.G.'s plaintive cries of "A.G. phone contributors,"
move little Willie to aid him. "But, A.G., we mustn't phone from
this house," Willie tells him, "Mom will be furious." "No
controlling legal authority," A.G. insists, so they go ahead and
make the calls. A wealthy contributor comes and picks up A.G. in
his Lear jet, and whisks him out of harms way.
despotic ship captain named Rick Morse has purchased a ship full
of voters from the evil Nacilbuper tribe, and is attempting to sail
them across the gender gap to a place that truly looks like America.
The voters rebel, and take charge of the ship. While the voters
force Morse to sail to the right by the light of day, each night,
under the cover of darkness, he slips back to the left. By
employing this stratagem, he arrives victoriously at his destination.
There, the voters are brought to trial for their rebellion. The
prosecutor, Peter Jennings Bryan, argues that the voters' insistence
on sailing to the right was a temper tantrum on their part. The
noble defense lawyer, William Jefferson Adams, a southern cousin
of John Quincy Adams, defends the voters, claiming that "These men
should not be judged by the contents of their character, but by
the color of their skin." The judge approves of their diversity,
and orders them all admitted to U Cal Berkeley on full scholarship.
Bill and the Congress of Doom
evil Congress of Doom has enslaved thousands of children, after
throwing them off of the welfare roles. Now, it forces them to work
long hours, deep underground, soaked by a steady stream of trickle-down
wealth, mining for the magical stones of voodoo economics. Arkansas
Bill courageously breaks into the Congress of Doom to rescue them.
He negotiates with the Congress to have some new vents put in the
mine, gets the children one day of family leave per month, and ensures
that their health insurance benefits are transferable when they
move to a new mine. For his courageous act he is elected "Archaeologist
of the Year."
you enjoyed my ideas.
Callahan is a regular contributor to mises.org,
Morgenstern is contributing editor at The
© 2000, Gene