When I arrived at the office this morning, and my private secretary told me that a gentleman named Blinkhorn from USO PAC had made an appointment for ten-thirty, I must confess I wondered what in the world the United Services Organization was doing running a political action committee. Was that even legal, I wondered, as, following a hearty greeting and equally hearty handshake, Mr. Blinkhorn settled into the plush chair positioned immediately in front of my desk.
“USO PAC?” I peered at Blinkhorn quizzically. “I thought the USO was a private, non-profit organization dedicated to doing nice things for our brave men and women in uniform.”
“Oh, them,” Blinkhorn chuckled. “No relation, I can assure you. I represent the Unidentified Submersible Objects Political Action Committee.”
“Unidentified Submersible Objects?” This was a concept I found even more perplexing than the idea of the United Services Organization starting a political action committee.
“Yeah,” Blinkhorn explained, “USO’s are like UFO’s, except that, in addition to being able to fly, they can also dive below the surface of lakes, rivers, seas and oceans. USO’s are the cream of the crop – the elite paranormal phenomenon investigators’ quarry.”
“I understand,” I said, although I didn’t, really. “And you elite USO hunters got together and formed a PAC?”
“Precisely,” Blinkhorn proudly beamed. “We support John McCain.”
“For President?”
“Exactly.”
“So,” I asked, continuing to gather necessary background, “does USO PAC represent any particular USO interest group?”
“Actually,” Blinkhorn stated officiously, “there are, in fact, twenty six USO investigation organizations world wide, and fifteen of them are based in the United States. Of those, USO PAC represents the political interests of exactly one, USO Hunters of America.”
“And you, Mr. Blinkhorn,” I speculated, “are a member of that organization?”
Blinkhorn’s head turned left and right reflexively as his eyes narrowed to mysterious slits. He leaned over my desk and adopted a conspiratorial whisper worthy of any of the best B-movie classic spies. “For reasons I can’t go into right now, Mr. Collins, I must insist that what I’m about to tell you remain in the strictest confidence.”
“I understand,” I responded, for indeed I did. Whether I would comply with his request, on the other hand, depended.
“I’m the treasurer,” Blinkhorn confided. “The money man.”
“Very well, then,” I ventured, having obtained, in my opinion, sufficient background information to proceed, “how can I help you today?”
Blinkhorn settled back into his chair, drew a deep breath, and began. “Mr. Collins, as I’m sure you are aware, American presidential politics is a pretty rough sport, and as ardent McCain supporters, we at USO PAC are very concerned about the vast, left-wing conspiracy to spread lies, distortions, half-truths, exaggerations and misinterpretations of quotes taken out of context concerning John McCain.”
“Such as what?”
“Holy Hannah,” Blinkhorn exclaimed, “I hardly know where to begin! Did you hear the one that accuses him of starting the Forrestal aircraft carrier fire in 1967? Or the one that claims he collaborated with the North Vietnamese and actually sat out the war in real Hilton hotel? Or the story that he was mixed up in a savings and loan scandal back in the 1980’s? Or that he…”
“Unless I’m seriously mistaken,” I broke in, “Senator McCain actually was mixed up in a savings and loan scandal back in the 1980’s – with a fellow named Keating, as I recall.”
“Really?”
“Yep. McCain was accused of improperly aiding Keating, the chairman of a failed savings and loan, during an investigation of Keating’s business by the Federal Home Loan Bank Board.”
“You don’t say?”
“Sir, I’m afraid I do indeed say,” I insisted. “As a matter of fact, McCain received over a hundred thousand dollars, which was more than any of the other four United States senators involved in the scandal got.”
“Well,” Blinkhorn harrumphed, “a person can make an honest mistake, I suppose. Any-who,” he soldiered on, “there are these other things, such as that he had an affair with a lobbyist…”
“Vicki Iseman,” I interjected. “On one hand, nobody can prove anything; on the other, most Washington lobbyists are generally either whores or pimps of some kind, either literal or metaphorical. But who knows? Maybe Ms. Iseman is as virtuous as a Catholic school girl and simply subverts the interests of the American people by spreading her clients’ money around Capitol Hill in perfectly legal ways.”
“Exactly,” Blinkhorn agreed. “And that’s what USO PAC wants to do. Get the facts about these left-wing smears out there so the voters can see them! Like the one that says McCain’s real father was the pool boy at the Coco Solo Naval Air Station Officers’ Club!”
“Well,” I advised, “look on the other side of the coin. Since that would have happened in what was then the Panama Canal Zone, it might get McCain some of those coveted Hispanic votes. But really – look at the guy! He’s obviously a bona fide, one hundred percent, white bread, Scots-Irish, WASP cracker if there ever was one.”
“They’re claiming,” Blinkhorn asserted ruefully, “that the pool boy was, in fact, a Soviet infiltrator who had trained in Stalin’s clandestine espionage camps on the Black Sea, lying in the sun on the beach four hours a day, covered in a thick coating of Beiersdorf tanning lotion in order to simulate a Latin hue for his secret mission.”
“So they’re saying McCain’s real father was a Commie from the Kremlin posing as a Panamanian cabana boy?”
“That’s the lie those unscrupulous Democrats are pushing,” Blinkhorn confirmed. “You know that McCain attended over twenty schools, don’t you?”
“No, I didn’t,” I admitted, “but it makes sense, what with his father in Navy. Service families move a lot.”
“That’s not what the rumor-mongers are saying,” Blinkhorn bitterly complained. “They’re claiming he was an extreme discipline problem and flunked nearly every class!”
“What scurrilous slander,” I concurred. “That couldn’t possibly be true, could it? After all, Senator McCain is widely known for his sweet disposition, his even temper, his complete disinclination to violent outbursts; and, furthermore, for his remarkable grasp of numerous complicated issues, the understanding of which requires extreme intelligence and erudition in complicated subjects like mathematics. Certainly, one look at Senator McCain’s stellar academic and behavior records, acquired while he was a midshipman at the US Naval Academy would immediately dispel the least suspicion that such an assertion could be true.”
“No kidding,” Blinkhorn affirmed. “Can you believe the cheek? These people are shameless, I tell you, absolutely shameless! They’re saying McCain was drunk all the time when he was stationed at Pensacola Naval Air Station, and that’s the reason he was in two aircraft crashes and flew a third one into a high-power electrical line!”
“Oh, come on,” I protested, “how unfair can you get? I mean, really! It was the height of the Cold War, for Christ’s sake! Everybody was drunk all the time!”
“Precisely!” Blinkhorn leaned forward in his chair, excited. “But do the American voters have enough historical acumen to realize that? No! So, the way those scoundrels tell it, you’d think John was the only Navy pilot who ever buzzed around Pensacola with a fifth of Old Crow in his cockpit!”
“Totally slanted, biased, evil propaganda,” I acknowledged.
“But not as awful as some of this other stuff,” Blinkhorn vouched, “not by a long shot! Those wicked Democrats are also pushing around a rumor that McCain fathered an illegitimate black child, and then adopted it…”
“Excuse me, but that particular smear was created by the George W. Bush campaign,” I pointed out.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” I elaborated, “to defeat McCain in the South Carolina primary, back during the run-up to the 2000 election.”
“No [expletive]?”
“Oh, yeah,” I told him confidently, “the Bush campaign used fake ‘pollsters’ to call up South Carolina voters and ask questions implying that rumor; plus, they had a professor at Bob Jones University spam all over the Internet with an e-mail stating the same lie.”
“Republicans did that?” Blinkhorn could scarcely believe his ears. “A Republican did that to another Republican? Whatever happened to Ronald Reagan’s admonishment, ‘Thou shalt not speak ill of thy fellow Republicans?’”
“Went to Hell with Ronald Reagan, I imagine.”
Blinkhorn gave me a look both startled and angry. “Mr. Collins! I will thank you not to blaspheme the Holy Memory of Saint Ronald Wilson Reagan!”
“Oh, sorry,” I apologized, “I didn’t realize you were a member of the First Republican Church.”
“First Fundamental Pentecostal Full Gospel Reformed Republican Evangelical Church of the Nazarene, Conservative Constructivist” Blinkhorn clarified ostentatiously, “and God damned proud of it, too!”
“Gee whiz,” I commented, “I think it takes slightly longer to say the name of your church than it does for a Unitarian minister to perform a service.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Blinkhorn allowed. “Okay, so that one about the pickaninny in McCain’s woodpile wasn’t made up by the Democrats. But they’ve been slinging plenty of other mudballs, that’s for sure – there’s another rumor that McCain was in cahoots with the North Vietnamese when he endorsed a Senate subcommittee report which stated that there is no credible evidence for POW or MIA Americans still being held prisoner there.”
“Yeah, but I doubt that’s something a cabal of liberals would bother with, especially now,” I opined. “In addition to not appealing to them on a visceral level, that particular rumor was another one the Bush campaign used against McCain in 2000.”
“What about the rumors that McCain is gay; that his wife Cindy is a junkie; and the one that the North Vietnamese made him into a Communist ‘Manchurian Candidate,’ some kind of robot brainwashed to push the button and blow us all up when the sinister masterminds of totalitarianism show him a picture of Margaret Mead performing in a Tijuana donkey show or something? Aren’t those obviously the work of liberal Democrat fanatics?”
“I’m sorry,” I informed him, “but once again, all of those rumors were invented by the 2000 George W. Bush campaign staff.”
“Well, anyway,” Blinkhorn fumed, “maybe where these lies came from isn’t all that important. What matters is what USO PAC can do about them. So – what about that, Mr. Collins? Got any ideas?”
“Have you considered a Web site?”
Blinkhorn pondered my suggestion briefly. “A Web site? You mean, like my daughter’s Facebook page?”
“Well,” I averred, “not exactly, but, in principle, very similar. Of course, in principle, what I’m suggesting is also similar to the Yahoo portal. But specifically, it’s much more like the Web site John already has to support his current presidential campaign. Actually, Obama already has one.”
“Why, of course Obama already has a Web site to support his presidential campaign,” Blinkhorn shot back, clearly confused. “So what?”
“No, no, what I meant was, that in addition to www.barackobama.com which is directly analogous to John’s Web site, www.johnmccain.com Obama also has another one. It’s www.FightTheSmears.com his new Web site that just went up this week. Here,” I said, motioning for him to take the chair at the side of my desk as I fired up my Web browser, “let’s take a look at it.”
Blinkhorn’s eyes widened as he took in Obama’s anti-smear site. “Wow. Slicker than seal [expletive],” he murmured, obviously showing proper respect for his political adversaries. “You’re right. Our side needs to imitate this concept immediately, if not sooner.”
“Right,” I prompted. “The presentation is dynamite. Now, let’s consider the content. Take for instance, the first item here. See? It says ‘Smear’ and then it gives a synopsis of the lie. ‘Rush Limbaugh says a tape exists of Michelle Obama using the word “whitey” from the pulpit of Trinity United Church.’ Then another lie: ‘Proven GOP sleazemeister Roger Stone says he has “credible evidence that some indelible record exists” of a tape of Michelle Obama using the term “whitey.”’ Then yet another lie: ‘Tape was filmed between June 26th – July 1st 2004 in Chicago, IL at the Rainbow/PUSH Coalition Conference at Trinity United Church: specifically the Women’s Event.’ So, we click on the link right underneath the statements labeled as lies, where it says ‘Continue reading,’ and, then – see? The text of every ‘Lie’ item is repeated, and right underneath is an item labeled ‘Truth’ which refutes it. To Rush’s statement, as you can see, Obama’s people reply ‘No such tape exists. Michelle Obama has not spoken from the pulpit at Trinity and has not used that word.’”
“But she did,” Blinkhorn shouted. “Rush Limbaugh never lies! Ever!”
“Okay,” I humored, “Rush never lies. But maybe, he could be mistaken, couldn’t he?”
“I… I suppose so,” Blinkhorn muttered. “But not very often.”
“Right. So,” I went on as I began to scroll down, “let’s have a look at the rest of this Web site.”
The more he saw, the more Blinkhorn’s expression became increasingly agitated. “Look! It says that ‘Obama is a Muslim’ is a lie! Then it says the truth is, he’s a Christian! It says ‘Barack Obama attended a “radical madrassa” is a lie and that the truth is, he never attended one! It says ‘Senator Obama was sworn into the U.S. Senate using the Koran’ is a lie and shows this obviously faked video clip of him using a Bible instead, and calls that the truth! How do they get away with it?”
“Calm yourself, sir,” I pleaded, “losing your composure will do us no good. If Obama’s truth is your lies and, most likely, vice-versa, well, that’s what the free speech clause of the First Amendment is all about, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Blinkhorn sighed, mopping his brow with a silk handkerchief, “you’re right, Collins. A guy can’t loose his composure when analyzing the enemy’s tactics. I got to hand it to you – you came up with the perfect response to smears and malicious rumors directed against John McCain, no matter who cooks them up. What’s the quickest way to get something like this going for our side?”
“I’m e-mailing a Web developer right now,” I told him, “one of the best in the DC area. He’ll be in contact with you before COB today, I’m sure. Is the e-mail address on your business card suitable?”
“Ah, yeah, sure – go ahead. Have him contact me there.”
“And your office and cell phone numbers?”
“Okay, give him those, too. What do figure he’ll do?”
“Oh,” I surmised, “he’ll probably hack the Obama organization’s site and steal the entire design – copy it, lock stock and barrel. Then he’ll modify it to obtain a version for John McCain and put that up to run until you give him enough money and time to replace it with something better, more feature-rich and distinctive.”
“Great!” Blinkhorn went from angry to delighted in a flash, handing me a cashier’s check that more than covered my consultation session fee. “I’ve got to run now, but I’ll be in touch.”
“I value your business,” I said, by way of thanking him as he shook my hand. “But – one last question, though. Are you… convinced,” I inquired, as delicately as I could, “that Senator McCain, ah… shall we say… will appreciate the USO Hunters of America doing all this on his behalf?”
“Why, yes, I’m absolutely positive,” Blinkhorn happily proclaimed. “He’s a member!”