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Title: John Sidney McCain and Perestroika Sunset
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URL Source: http://www.newswithviews.com/Stang/alan38.htm
Published: Mar 19, 2008
Author: Alan Stang
Post Date: 2008-03-19 09:50:02 by christine
Keywords: None
Views: 170
Comments: 9
Toiling daily for many years in a suburb of Phoenix is a lady unknown to most Americans. But the moving finger that writes history loves to play little jokes. A man named Hussein, many of whose relatives are Muslims, who cavorts with Communists, has a voting record worse than Hillary’s and belongs to a racist, anti-American church, could be our next President, because a man named Jack Ryan fell out with his wife, about which more in a piece to come. And the moving finger could be about to push the Phoenix lady into prominence. She is Patty Hopper. Mrs. Hopper is the wife of retired Army Colonel Earl Hopper, an airborne troop, whose troublesome knees she attributes to his penchant for “jumping out of perfectly good airplanes.” She runs an outfit called Task Force Omega and spends most of her waking hours researching the hundreds of U.S. military men every Administration has left behind in Southeast Asia since Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger disgraced the Oval Office. One of those men is Colonel Earl Hopper, Jr., who was shot down in the area and never recovered. Another man she knows almost everything about is John Sidney McCain, putative Republican presidential candidate this year. That is why she could come to well deserved prominence. On a video I saw recently, Mrs. Hopper explained one aspect of McCrud’s long career. Task Force Omega’s URL is taskforceomegainc.org. Or call her at (623) 979-5651. We all know that the North Vietnamese Communists became quite proficient at shooting down our planes. How? In order to get medical treatment for his injuries when he was shot down, John Sidney McCrud told them what to do. He told them the altitude our aircraft were flying, their heading, where and when they would turn and how they entered North Vietnam. He told them which targets had been selected, a bridge, an ammo or fuel dump, a railroad, etc. Col. Hopper, Sr. explains what the Communists did with the information McCrud provided them. The Vietnamese “naturally moved their anti- aircraft defenses into those areas and built them up and strengthened them. They also moved the rockets, aircraft weapons, into the ‘package route’ where the airplanes were flying in or egressing. The result of this, according to the information that came out later on, in intelligence, was that the Vietnamese started knocking down our aircraft in greater amounts than they had before. In fact, there was an estimate that we started losing 60% more aircraft and more men than we had previously. This went on for about a month, and it got so bad, that they finally called off the bombing of North Vietnam because of the information that McCain had given to them.” No doubt this is the reason John Sidney McCrud has worked as frenetically as he has to bury DOD records about what happened there. No doubt it helps explain why he has prevented the return of POWs we know are still there and why he has been so inexcusably rude to POW families. He has managed to sequester some thirty two treason tapes he made for North Vietnam, but men who returned from captivity and who are still alive have heard them. So, in a few respects at least, John Sidney McCrud is very like Hillary Rodham Clinton. Both of them are extremely obnoxious. Both routinely drop the F-Bomb on whoever happens to get in their way. Both scream loudly to get it. Some politicians are associated in the public mind with certain crimes. If I say, “Harding,” you think Teapot Dome. If I say, “Nixon,” you think Watergate. If I say, “Barney Frank,” you automatically think buggery and sodomite prostitution. But when I say “McCrud,” or “Hillary,” you don’t know where to start. In both cases, there is a lifelong train of unspeakable crime. In the womanoid’s career, for instance, there are those dozens of corpses, including the women and children who died in the massacre at Waco. There is the rape victim she intimidated, to protect Attorney General husband Bill, the rapist. It continues today. As I write, she must testify in a trial for fraud in Los Angeles. And has she hired dozens of private detectives, just in case any of those 800 super delegates have anything in their pasts they could be blackmailed about, like bareback Client No. 9, who has just resigned as Governor of New York? In McCrud’s case, there are the fellow Navy pilots who died because of the information he gave the Communist enemy. Indeed, there are the some 132 men he killed himself on the U.S.S. Forrestal. Of course we shall go through all of this in pieces to come. We shall certainly cover Hussein, but he is not old enough to have done anything resembling the exploits of these others. Right now, a few loyal readers tell me that Hat Halstead, one of the main characters in Perestroika Sunset, is a dead ringer for John McCrud. This is especially remarkable because when I wrote that book – one of my six novels – I knew very little about the putative Republican nominee, so he certainly was not in my mind. Yet, according to these readers, Perestroika turns out to immortalize him. Perestroika Sunset is a novel about a decades-long Soviet scheme to seize power in the United States, using as pawns the POWS our government let the Soviets keep in Vietnam. A couple of readers tell me it brought them to tears, maybe because it is based squarely on the history. For instance, people who were present at some of the incidents it portrays, kindly corrected my version of the events. Perestroika was published in 1999. One of those Perestroika readers says Congressman Hatton “Hat” Halstead “so closely resembles John McCain that it isn't funny.” Here is her comparison, proving the point I was completely unaware of. Does this prove that “life imitates art,” or does it prove the opposite? “In the book on pages 360-363,” she says, “there is a scene in which ‘Hat’ and his wife Maxine, aka ‘Max’ (a Soviet ‘swallow’), are having a conversation regarding his support of families of POW/MIAs. Max has just finished preparing and serving a dinner that would make Maxim's in Paris proud. Hat has just discovered that Max had his sweet wife Camille murdered in a hit and run. Hat is now discussing how he is going to ‘out’ Max as the murderer and that he is not going to give a prepared speech.” Advertisement . . . [p. 361] "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I'm not going to say there are no more POWs in Southeast Asia, and lose the support of the families." Her personality changed. Even her features changed. Despite her negligée and scent, her femininity vanished. Her lips were no longer the full, lush honey drops he knew. Now her mouth was thin and domineering. Her eyes stared like a bird of prey's. Her voice was cold and full of menace. . . . "Maybe you'd like to look at something, first." "More photos, Max? Don't bother. You've played that hand." Halstead was surprising himself. Was there a depth beneath which even he could not descend? Perhaps he sheltered a heretofore unknown, vestigial node of honor. Maybe his pride was offended at the continuing revelation that she had played him for a fool, that he, the man who took whatever he wanted, had been taken. Maybe the so-called instinct for self-preservation had kicked in. If he were right, if Maxine had arranged for Camille's murder to ensnare him, now was the time to put as much distance between them as he could. Maxine took a video from her attaché case, slid it into the VCR and settled back on the sofa. "Why not sit beside me, darling." He refused and remained standing. But he couldn't just leave the room. He had to see what she was up to. How else could he fight her? The screen showed him back in Nam years before, in living black and white, in Colonel Karpiloff's office. He saw himself sitting in a chair. Karpiloff was talking. Already transfixed, Hat sank down beside her. "I want you to make a film," Karpiloff told Halstead. "What kind of film?" "A film that will make you a hero." "I won't do any propaganda piece." "No, no, my friend. Of course you won't. Depend on me! Depend on me! In the film I propose, you would obviously be speaking under duress, after suffering severe torture." "Torture?" "Not to worry, my friend," Karpiloff chuckled. "That is what the film will show. Our artists will make it look like that. They are the best in the business. They can make you say anything, or look like a giraffe. Of course you won't be tortured. The acting will be up to you. Can you do it?" "Yes. I think so. I've always loved to act." "Bravo! I was sure you could. I have no doubt you did splendid work in the student theatricals at Morton. Unfortunately, I was not there to see it. We'll arrange for the film to be smuggled out and shown by peace lovers in the West. To prove its authenticity, we'll protest, of course, along with our humane North Vietnamese brethren. We'll call it phony. It will show you standing up manfully [p. 362] to Communist torture. You will be decorated by your government. America will lie at your feet." "Why are you doing this? What do you want?" "You already know. Peace. We are looking for a few good men. Who knows? You may even want to enter politics." The conversation ended. The scene that had made him a hero and launched his political career followed--the scene that showed him being tortured. Maxine clapped. "Bravo, darling! Molto bravo!" . . . Advertisement For a long time, after the film ended, Halstead simply sat with his mouth open, staring at the screen, remembering. At last, he was able to whisper, "Where did you get it?" "I really don't know, darling. . . . I must say, Hatton, I was quite taken aback. I had no idea your heroism was a sham. I see now that you courted me under false pretenses. Do you think for one moment - one damned moment - that I would have fallen for you had I known you were a collaborator, had I known your claims of torture were a fraud? . . . " Halstead went to the VCR and took out the tape. "We have to destroy this." "Why, darling? It's undoubtedly a copy. Do you really believe that whoever sent this sent the only one? Hatton, if this film were to fall into the wrong hands, your military record would unravel. You used it -- part of it -- to get elected. It proved you are a hero; proved that you were tortured. If, instead, it proves the opposite, our enemies would make you a laughing stock. The people would no longer be amused. They would be vengeful. They would say you betrayed them. You'd be kicked out, humiliated. Your political career would be destroyed. You couldn't be elected dog catcher. Worse, maybe you could. . . ." Everything she said was true. The people would benignly tolerate peccadilloes, but this was something else. A peccadillo was a departure from the norm. . . . On the contrary, this video, converted for convenience from the original film, made fools of the people who had given him their hearts; it proved that they had been conned. They had revered him like a rock star. They would turn on him in fury. Maxine was right. . . . Party leaders would call him an embarrassment. If he did not resign, his constituents would remove him in the next election. . . . [p. 363] . . . The media would cover the story like the maggots they were. . . . Hatton Halstead shook with rage. He lusted to put his hands around Maxine's neck and squeeze her like a cockroach until she burst and died. . . . She caressed him and whispered. "Darling, do you want to be President?" "Yes." "I can make you President if you cooperate. . . ." Yes, I must admit this does sound very much like what we know of McCrud, but, again, remarkably, I did not have him in mind at all when I wrote it. The same readers who brought the similarity to my attention suggest that, were enough copies of Perestroika Sunset distributed in the right places, they could help mightily to deny the White House to this monster; at least to change Republican minds. Remember, you know my position on Hillaroid and Hussein. I certainly am not trying to advance them. Their policies would not be much different from his. I am trying to protect the nation from John Sidney McCrud. The price of Perestroika Sunset on my website, alanstang.com, is $21.95, plus s & h. It is the most gorgeous book I have ever produced. Perestroika is a hard-cover edition with a beautiful dust jacket. My cover artist gets all the credit and he outdid himself. If you think it would help stop the monster, and will order ten at a time, you could have them for $11.95 each, plus S&H. Simply order at alanstang.com and we’ll adjust the price, or call us toll-free at (888) 277-7607, ext. 2551. Everywhere you look, this monster has betrayed our military and our country. The thought of John McCrud as President is every bit as intolerable as the thought of President Hillary or Hussein. It could be worse because, with him as President, zombie Republicans will characteristically go back to sleep, happy that they have elected one of their own.
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#1. To: christine (#0)
Stang is a joy to read. Only in America is it possible for a traitor, a socialist, and a party to murder vie for the presidency. These three deserve a national show trial, rather than adulation. I despise the scum in our government and those grazing sheeple who participate in its various forms of bread and circus.
Wait wait!!!!!!! Hold on here. Is'nt this scene two where the McKookophiles come storming in here blathering why McKook is really a nice guy????? We have the Obamaphiles slobbering all over the 4um, forming cheer leading squads complete with NEW kneepads.
McKooK is a hard sell, but in this election cycle, anything is possible. If former Paulites can learn to love socialism, McKooK just might make for an attractive candidate. Where's
#7. To: Jethro Tull, robin (#5)
There is a photo of McKook at the wailing wall, but unlike Bush he has no beanie with a propeller on top.
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#2. To: Jethro Tull (#1)
(Edited)
#5. To: Cynicom (#2)
Pat Paulson when we need him?
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