Words 23

Truly False Interview-Torture 734

The office of the Secretary of State is located in a strategic corner of the Harry S. Truman building. From its windows you can see the White House, the Department of Justice and the surrounding buildings and parks. Your pride as a citizen tempts you to contemplate that view and say to yourself: “And all this is mine!”

“What are you thinking? Nice view, eh?”

Secretary Rice walked across the room and shook hands with me. I held her hand longer than necessary and looked at it with interest.

“Are you looking for blood?” She asked, surprising me because that is exactly what I was looking for.

“Well, yes Ms Secretary. We hear that this Administration continues to allow torture to take place and I thought that you people with your usual devotion to this administration’s policies would be quite adept at torturing people. I have some innocent questions”

“You are poorly informed. We no longer bleed our prisoners. We use high tech methods that are quicker and certainly more painful. We want the prisoners to realize at once that the game is a real one”

“Tell me about it” I asked, eagerly thinking that here was my chance to turn in a real shocker of a front pager and earn that coveted corner office instead of that janitor hole.

“I’ll do better than that” she smiled and then I noticed the fangs on either side of her frontal row of healthy teeth. She pushed a button and at once two beefy agents accompanied by Alberto Gonzalea, the Attorney General walked in, grabbed me, cuffed me and sat me down in one of the Chester & Monroney chairs. Gonzalez, his eyes shining started to rub his hands in anticipation and, looking at Condi, nodded. While this was being done, I could see from a corner of my eye Secretary Rice putting on rubber gloves.

Once tied to the chair, she approached me with a syringe in her hands. She smiled again and said:

“What ever gave you the idea that we torture people?”

Truly False Interview-Condi-734

Any similarity with real events or persons in this article is purely fictional, even though fiction often times outperforms reality.

 “I am really surprised that you agreed to this interview in such a short time, Doctor Rice” 

She looked at me without effort, showing off her new contact lenses (Closer Looks, Inc. $279.95) Her desk did not have the usual pile of files, thick binders, flagged reports, e-mails and telephone messages that her predecessor maintained untouched to add to his image of the overwhelmed Secretary of State. She replied: 

“As President Bush has said many times, all of us who fight for freedom and democracy must always allow the press to share our concerns, our ambitions and our fears. I think it was Tolstoy or perhaps my uncle Senator Thurmond who said in a memorable address that....” 

I was not born yesterday. While my parents always taught me to be respectful with persons of authority and listen politely, I decided that I would not allow Doctor Rice to wrap every answer in her convoluted rhetoric and her superb use of unexpected and enviable avenues of digression, avoidance and even deceit. So I said: 

“Doctor Rice, let me make something crystal. Fiction blended with reality makes wonderful scripts for theater or movies, but it makes for empty noise at the State Department. I am not here to listen to the party line. I am here to ask questions and not to receive lectures on patriotism, the greatness of infallible George Bush, the righteousness of the present Crusade and the fine quality of the food served by the State Department cafeteria. I want you to answer the questions truthfully. Just in case, let me remind you that I still have the video and the other tapes!” 

My father used to say that covering your backside should not be considered unethical or illegal. Morality demands that we provide ourselves with the necessary armor if we are to survive. In the journalistic profession, this makes a bit more sense than in other occupations. 

She turned slightly pale and stuttered: 

“No need to get uptight. Keep in mind that I am an important part of the team that is transforming the world from a cesspool of suffering, corruption, envy, tragedy and neglect into a garden where the best human qualities will flourish, where freedom and democracy will guarantee unending happiness. As President Bush is fond of saying. . . “ 

She can not control herself, I noticed. So I continued: 

“Here are the questions. When are you people going to admit that it is time to make a deal somehow and get our troops out of Iraq? There does not seem to be any meaningful policy underpinning our military actions. Was Ted Kennedy right when he suggested over a year ago  that you people better prepare a plan to retreat from Iraq ? Why does the Administration refuse to join Russia,China, the UN and the European Union in the talks being held with Iran concerning the direction their nuclear program is to take? Or do our War President and Dick need more wars? Are you preparing 'evidence' about another case of made-in-Iran Weapons of Mass Destruction? Will all this conceal aspirations to control
Saudi Arabia, the Gulf Emirates, Libya, Iraq, Iran and eventually Venezuela? Granted that these countries need new political and social guidelines but, strange coincidence, they are the world’s top oil producers. Will your gang, I am sorry but I could not bring myself to call it Administration, continue to plow and harvest the gullibility of the religious nuts in this country? Will you have mullahs in the Supreme Court?”

 

She kept looking at me with a very neutral expression, if that is possible. She smiled seductively and asked: 

“Where did you say you keep those tapes?”

Truly False Interview-London Cabbie

There is one thing I like about London's Heathrow  International Airport. Its cabs are without doubt the perfect transition from the winged buses one is often forced to ride, and the realities of unpredictable traffic and pavements. Especially in London.

 

Whoever designed and outfitted London's cabs had only one thing in mind: the passenger's comfort and well being. First, you can dump a steamer trunk in the space next to the driver. Other pieces of luggage can also fit there, and if not, they can be arranged in the spacious cabin. If still more space is needed; there is the usual and reliable rack on top, where a baby pachyderm, a potted Izingalia or a Dumont Racing bicycle with 17 speeds can be easily strapped in.

 

Then there are mechanical features that deserve special attention. The ashtrays are so small that they discourage passengers from smoking; most would think twice about dumping ashes on the rubber matted floors, or open a window to disperse ashes on the M4. Besides, there is often a very visible sign that politely asks that you refrain from smoking. Arguing with cabbie about this would lead you nowhere.

"But why can't I smoke if I feel like it ? "

" Sah, da regs is purpsly aimende tha wahy, Sah.. Be-soids, da harh und the bidgein frum hahsh da broghim oin da sitty.. gwen us cobbies dir laoin uncar prads Cops burnen fer Mahgee-strays.."

" What did you say. Sorry I did not quite understand what you said.." 

By now you wonder. Did he mention something about Cops ? Magistrates ? His tone was formal enough, but friendly. So you forget about smoking, or for that matter pursuing that line of questioning ordinances that can be a bit controversial. Maybe they do caning here, who knows! Imagine the boys back in the office when they read about my being given 7 lashes for smoking in a public conveyance ? 

“Yew orr  Emerikan ah tek it” he said as he speeded down the M4 towards
London

. “Haf yew binta da City before? Ef yew hain’t ah recomein yew lern ta ride da tube. Et safs toime and evoids da trafik” 

I made the usual effort to comprehend what he had said and answered: 

“Yea, I am American and have been to London many times. I have relatives here and in Wales, but let me tell you I do not speak Welsh. It sounds quite strange, you know”

 

By this time we were coming into Kings Road and on to Kensington. I hoped he would remain quiet as the effort it exacted from me to understand what he said, plus the long night in the air, was giving me a slight headache.

 

“Ah’s hopin’ we don’t run into mor reperrs gov’nor. Dey can drive a tortle mad, you know, sak?” 

Not knowing what to say and not wishing to appear rude, I asked :

 

“How late do you work here?” 

“Jes till foiv in da afternoon. Then I rush tanodda jiob” 

“Oh yeah? What do you do?” 

“I werke ot Berlitz as an English instructa to immigranz!”

Truly False Interview-GOD

“God, are you serious about this guy  George W. Bush?” 

“Lissen, don`t come to me now with your problems. You had your chance to elect a president according to your principles but you people did not follow your own rules. Now, you have to take it or find a solution yourselves!” 

“But God, the guy is wrecking not only the country but also the equilibrium outside the country. One day he invents evil axis here and there and the next day he talks about his desire for peace on earth. He denounces and renounces an environmental treaty, which he probably never read, nor understood, and later he comes up with a sleigh of hand proposal which is worse that anything the treaty had proposed." 

"If he does all those things, why did you elect him? Are the people in your country that stupid that they believe what any one tells them?' 

'Apparently so, God. You see, he also has devised policies that make his rich friends richer and has corporate America turn into a den of thieves. Our country has more poor people that at any time in its history. Then he puts on a uniform, rattles his saber and goes forth to battle a few Taliban shepherds equipped with old single action Mausers and a flock of bearded, ignorant fanatics in the hills of Afghanistan.!"

 

"Yes, I remember the blasting those Talibans took. Those Taliban bastards deserved a blasting and more. But to drop 15 thousand tons of bombs on the hills is not going to eliminate the threats from those terrorists and is not going to produce the evil one or a glorious military victory" 

"Well, we got the other war going and he refuses to believe that we are wasting our time. Is there anything you can do?” 

"Listen cowboy, you got this all wrong. I have provided you bipeds with a stage with as many comforts as I could invent. You are wholly responsible if you play in that stage a comedy, a historical piece or a bloody tragedy. I believe I have sent enough signals suggesting how to behave and I do not wish to become a baby sitter for you people. I have other things to do!" 

"What other things, may I ask?" 

"Listen, one of these starry nights, if you are sober, raise your head and look at the sky. Do you think that you are alone in this neck of the celestial woods? What do you think all those shiny lights are? Traffic lights? Do you people realize that it is a full time job to keep those time-space-energy  vectors under control? I gave you people the tools and you come up with things like surge to victory, torture in tropical islands and Fox News!

"No need to get uptight God. All I am asking for is a bit of help. Even your messengers on Earth, ministers, preachers, priests, evangelical BS dispensers and pious echoes, are ignored when they try to instill some reason!" 

"Who told you that all of them are my messengers? I do not need anyone to spread my word. I provided enough intelligence in that cranial sphere you wear above your shoulders, to make the right decisions. If you expect my guidance in every step, I better then transform this planet into a zoo and get me some smart Venusians to come and take care of it!" 

"God, please give us a chance. Is there anything we can do for you?" 

God thought for a moment. Then he smiled and with a sheepish look, said: 

"Could be. You see I compose and sing a few songs. Any chance I can get on American Idol?"

God, My Business Associate?

 

"Richard, how in the world did you manage to get an acquittal on the fraud charges?"

We were sitting in the lovely lounge of the Leslie II, his 35 million dollar yacht, anchored in front of his 17-room seaside, 30 million dollar mansion in

St. Johns

, and had just finished a breakfast that could only be described as an event on the same level of quality as the boat and the house.

The former head of Health South, Richard Scrushy is of medium height, plain features and no outstanding physical attributes, except for his delicate fingers and the quickness with which he moves then to emphasize a point, show you a faraway object or massage them as if they were cold. They are the fingers of a card trick master, a deft pick pocket or an accomplished violin player.

"It was an act of God. At one point, God spoke in parables to me and hinted at a scenario that had strong reminiscences of the Last Supper and its sad message of betrayal and deceit. It made me realize that some of the people surrounding me would betray me"

"When did this happen? I mean the warning from God?"

"It must have been about five years ago. Mind you it was not a single message from God but several over a period of a year. God even identified those who were plotting and explained the systems they had devised to ruin our company and place the burden of the crime on my shoulders!"

"Were you aware that a fraud of the Enron magnitude, or even larger was being perpetrated?"

"Of course not! All along I felt that my team was showing incredible business perception and cunning. Their business decisions and their implementation and execution seemed impeccable; it was pure Harvard, Yale,

Columbia

and

London

 

Business

 

School

at their best!"

"But, Richard, a CEO of any company has to be aware of how the figures come together. If you double profits from one year to the next, you must know that something extraordinary has taken place"

"I do not for a minute deny my responsibility as CEO. Fortunately I had GOD‚s guidance and was able to maintain my own innocence in this entire sordid affaire. While they operated behind my back I was nevertheless aware of the diabolical techniques they employed"

"Such as?"

"The accounting fraud was cleverly engineered. You know, it is not easy to assign arbitrary values to assets, earnings, debt, etc. For one thing you have control mechanisms answering to accounting and auditing practices that are difficult to by pass. For instance, depreciation allowances allow you to introduce several factors that can modify accumulated values, long term status and other charges that can enable a change in the value of the assets. Here is where the IRS regulations become an unwitting partner"

"How is that?"

"The tax code is complex and at the same time ambiguous in a number of areas. By playing one regulation against another you can modify the factor you wish to apply. And this extends not only to assets but also to inventories, which is always a complex issue. The LIFO method can be substituted by a variety of valuations, same as receivables and payables. From there to overstating sales and income, revise costs and play around with production costs and expense parameters, plus generous allowances for contingencies, good will, emergency replacements and lost business accounts, you can do wonders with a balance sheet"

He stopped to light a Cohiba and continued:

"Alan Greenspan helped a great deal in this period by creating suspense with the dance of the interest rates and their effect on federal funds, credit lines, exports, etc. Not to mention President Bush‚s favorable tax benefits that carried with them an implicit suggestion to pay less and show more and keep even more under the mattress!"

"But Richard, the amounts that resulted from all this exceeded the value of the company and it is still not clear where all those billions of dollars went"

"Right! Here is where the overseas subsidiaries and their inflated capital, debt or investments allowed an increase in net worth through additional off shore investments, commitment to derivatives markets and creating special credit obsolescence pools."

"Richard, you seem to know more about the process than you allowed during the hearings. It sounds as if you knew even more than those financial experts that allegedly accused you of leading the parade!"

He looked at me with a bit of concern in his eyes. It seemed that he realized that he had talked too much. His concern deepened when I asked:

"But why did you not blow the whistle? As the CEO of the company you were responsible for the financial health of Health South!"

"Are you crazy? I could not divulge the fact that all along God had unveiled the perpetrators of a crime of fraud, deceit and corporate corruption involving several billion dollars. Legally, it would make God an accomplice of the crime."

He stopped to measure his words and in a tone dripping contrition and piety, added:

"How could I do that to Him?"