Moderator Series: The Presidents

The Stoa, once again, is being twisted to serve the vapid needs of teenagers who can only learn if they are entertained. Can you tell that I am now sitting before you, a broken man?

Anyhow, this could be the start of a new series, to augment the "Bar Style" descriptors of real world history.

The intention here is to place the personalities of people on display for everyone else. There is no filter, no political hedging. Responses are based on how I understand these individuals. So stop whining, I am always right. These people will give answers just like outlined below.

So with that said, enjoy!

The Moderator has had the crew broom out the folks from the Generational discussion from the night before. The Hippie booth stinks of hemp and hippie, while the GI booth smells of Ben Gay. The Homelander booth is trashed and sticky. No one knows HOW it got sticky since they had not eaten or drank anything in there...

Tonight, the booths have been removed and a podium has been set up to give the Presidents something to hide behind when and if the junk from the audience starts to fly.

A series of questions will be posed and Presidents will be asked to respond. Each response will come from the gestalt personalities. Now, several of them have had to be resurrected, so you will have to pardon the smell.

On the Moderator's left is Thomas Jefferson, the writer of the Declaration of Independence and an experienced composer of Constitutions.

To his left is Woodrow Wilson, Creator of the permanent Income Tax and Champion of the "Ivy Tower" club of superior Presidential brains.

To his left is Calvin Coolidge, a quiet and well dressed man who seems very much out of place at the podium.

To his left is Lyndon Johnson (LBJ), creator of the Modern welfare state.

To his left is Ronald Reagan, the enemy of the Communist philosophy.

And to his left is Barak Obama, the first partially open Communist President.

The Moderator takes in a deep breath and thinks happy thoughts. He wonders if he should have had barriers installed between the Presidents, thinking back to the poo flinging episode the night before. Too late now...

The crowd is told to be quite. A baby cries somewhere in the distance.

Smacking the cards on the podium, the Moderator pulls the first one at random.

"The first question reads: How do you feel about Gun Control?"

"Mr. Jefferson, please respond first."

Jefferson clears his throat and looks into the audience, the lights making it difficult to see well.

"The owning of guns and the responsible use thereof is solely reserved for the people. No State or Federal directive can utterly remove firearms from public's use. I believe that this is written, in very simply language in the Second Amendment."

Reagan shrugs his shoulders knowing that this is a no brainer. As does Calvin Coolidge, though he does not shrug, he does arch one eyebrow.

Wilson and Obama get animated, but with a harsh look from the Moderator, both calm down.

"Mr. Reagan, what are your thoughts?"

"Well, Mr. Moderator, to me, gun control is more about shot placement and accuracy then it is about legislation..."

"That is the kind of irresponsible rhetoric I would expect from the likes of you, Reagan!" Obama blurts out, despite the moderator's gavel.

"Children, old people, and people of color...open season on them all, you RACIST!"

The banging eventually cracks the podium and a section of the crowd breaks into a screaming cheer and chant for Obama.

After 10 minutes of this, Obama tells a joke and asks the crowd to quiet down. A hush falls upon his section of the audience as they await his next utterance with zombie like attention.

The Moderator, tie half undone already after the first question, blows out retained frustration and then poses the question to LBJ.

"Guns should only be used by people I think should use them. Dang, boy, you can't just give guns to everyone who wants them. What's wrong with you, got scorpion piss in place of a brain?"

"Nice", answers the Moderator.

"Mr. Coolidge, care to respond?"

"The 2nd Amendment speaks for itself." He says through thin lips with a ramrod straight back.

"Care to elaborate, Mr. Coolidge."

"No."

"Ok, then, moving on."

Wilson cuts off the Moderator before he can continue, "The 2nd Amendment is rather vaguely written and should not be thought to apply to the masses as a whole. It is clearly intended to mean that there should be a well regulated militia that is under the control of the Federal Government, and not the Governors of the various states."

"I didn't ask you, Mr. Wilson." The Moderator says.

"Furthermore, the average citizen is not responsible enough, or competent enough to intelligently understand the proper application of their "rights"," Wilson continues.

Obama, not to be outdone shouts, "LBJ and Wilson are mostly right! The Government must regulate who can possess a firearm. Only properly vetted people should even be allowed to touch one."

The crowd roars its approval as Obama tips his head toward the rafters. A member of the crowd rushes the stage and kicks a stage crew member down the back steps. A moment later, he comes out with a spot light that he sets up behind Obama. The light creates a blazing halo about Obama's head.

With a cry, the Obama supporter is thrown back into the crowd by three other stagehands.

Obama lifts his arm and the crowd quiets once again.

"Stop that," says the Moderator. Obama ignores him.

"MOVING ON."

"Abortion, a Constitutional right or a horrible crime against God? Mr. Jefferson, your thoughts."

Jefferson's face slowly twists into a mask of horror as the question sinks in.

"We would never codify or sanction the legal right to kill an unborn child in our National Constitution!"

LBJ grabs the microphone, "Wat's the matter, boy, are you against the right of women to choose!"

Reagan is just shaking his head, more in disgust than in frustration.

Coolidge purses his lips together.

Obama jumps in before LBJ is even done, "Why punish your daughter or my daughter with this? Why condemn her to an impoverished life for a condition that easily treatable? You, Mr. Jefferson, are out of touch."

The crowd roars its approval. The Moderator throws the gavel into the crowd in frustration.

The Moderator turns around and yells for quiet. Obama's hand comes up and the crowd quiets down.

"Mr. Coolidge, do you have anything to add?"

"There is no right to abortion in the Constitution."

"Care to elaborate, Mr. Coolidge?"

"No."

"Moving on then...yes, Mr. Jefferson?"

"The Constitution was written with a moral, God-loving nation in mind, not some soulless, narcissistic, irresponsible and morally bankrupt society! What is wrong with you people?!"

Obama again speaks up, "That document is flawed and useless. It only gets in the way of my fixing this nation." The crowd roars again.

Jefferson shouts that the intention of the document was to keep evil little children from getting their hands on too much power.

Reagan pulls out a shotgun and fires it into the air. Things quiet down quickly.

"Thank you, Mr. Reagan," says the Moderator.

"See what I mean," shouts Obama.

"Shut up, you!" Says the Moderator.

A gavel comes out of the crowd and beans the Moderator in the back of the skull. He goes down like a sack of potatoes.

Wilson comes down and rolls him off the podium, "Silly, stupid, little man."

"Obviously," continues Wilson, "It should be up to the States to decide this since it is not completely outlined in the Constitution. At least in my day, we had not found the right in the document, though I'm sure if we looked hard enough we might find it in there."

"Screw the document," shouts Obama, "it is an impediment to the creation of a just and equal Nation!" The crowd continues to roar its approval.

Wilson furrows his brow at Obama.

"The people are not able to govern themselves and need to be shepherded along the way by the wiser individuals among us. You sir, are a Populist and Demagogue." Wilson sniffs as he pushes his glasses up on his nose.

Obama flicks a finger low, near his knee and slightly bends his head towards the podium. Three people in purple SEIU shirts start to make their way through the crowd.

"The concept must be studied and then have Congressional oversight. There must be meetings with the State's Governors and such. We can then tell the people how this right is expected to be..." The words are cut off as a bag is dropped down over Wilson's head. He is snatched off the podium, his cries of surprise cut off as one of the three hits the head portion of the bag with a hammer. The third individual glares at the rest of the crowd, daring them to notice.

A hand comes up to the podium and the Moderator slowly gets to his feet. He puts the gavel back on the broken podium and he looks about.

"That was weird, hey, where did Mr. Wilson go?"

"He go away." Obama says deadpan, "zip it Old Man." He hisses at Reagan, who, though startled, does back off.

LBJ is laughing raucously from his podium.

Coolidge takes a sip from his water cup.

Jefferson turns red and yells, "Tyrant! There is a tyrant among us!"

Obama, cool as a cucumber says, "The tyrants among us are the rich fat-cats who take and take and take and forget their responsibilities to give back to the community!"

The crowd is delirious. A woman faints nearby, Obama's name on her lips.

"I built libraries and Universities! I gave you limited and free government!" Jefferson shouts.

"You built all that for your rich, white friends. You better relax there or you may go away as well."

"I'm not afraid of you! A patriot is not afraid to bleed for his ideals!" Jefferson yells back.

"Well, thats good then," Obama chuckles to himself.

Ten pairs of hands rise up from behind Jefferson and with a muffled cry he vanishes behind the curtain.

"Hey, where did Jefferson go!" The Moderator shrieks.

"You better calm down to there Mr. Moderator. Who do you think you are? I didn't give you that job so you'd just be a good little guy there and mind your own business."

Reagan simply steps back and walks out, disgusted by everything. He puts a cowboy hat on exists, stage left.

"Hey, this isn't over!" The Moderator continues to shriek.

LBJ continues to laugh and pour himself a whiskey, "Damn, boy, I wish I had someone like you back in the 60's. Things would have been one HELL of a lot more fun!"

The hands reach out for LBJ as well, pulling him back out of his podium chair. The soles of his boots the last thing the crowd sees.

"No one calls me BOY, especially no redneck southerner." The crowd cheers and chants for Obama. The Moderator is looking back at the left side of the auditorium, the one where the Obama supporters are seated. For some reason, the rest of the auditorium has now emptied out. A sea of purple shirts now sits in their place.

"Mr. Coolidge, care to flee for your life with me?" The Moderator asks.

"No," comes the reply.

"I haven't said you could leave yet, Mr. Moderator. We still need to talk about social justice and equitable treatment. You seem to think you are the one asking the questions around here."

"Well, I am the Moderator, Mr. Obama."

"I already told you once before that I didn't appoint you to that position and you just better do as you are told!"

The frenzy of the crowds tone changes from cries of love and adoration to cries of fear.

A line of soldiers in olive drab with WWI type helmets on their heads are marching down from the entrance, row upon row of bayonets are fixed and pushing the crowd towards the stage.

A knot of purple shirts try to run the closing cordon but are impaled and stepped over quickly. Another line of soldiers has marched in from the wings and stand behind the Presidential podiums.

The Moderator stands with his mouth open, a line of blood trickles down the back of his neck.

Obama is shouting for his followers to resist the oppression, even while he is backing out, looking for escape.

Coolidge is standing directly behind him, blocking his way. This slight man in a well-worn business suit looks back dispassionately at him.

"Arrest him on charges of Treason against the Constitution." Soldiers snap to and grab Obama at each elbow.

"YOU can't do this! I am Barack Hussein Obama and I am a living GOD!"

"You are a tyrant and a child. I am sworn to protect the Constitution from enemies, both Foreign AND Domestic. Take him away."

The crowd is herded into buses, bound for detention and Obama is cuffed and placed in the back of one of the military vehicles.

The Moderator is still standing on his podium, mouth trying to work. The auditorium in nearly empty.

"Mr. Coolidge! Care to comment?" He yells.

Calvin Coolidge stops, turns slightly and says, "No." He then continues out the door to see to the clean up.

Poor, poor Moderator. He is not the guy from Fantasy Island, thats for sure. No special powers here for him.

I hope this as been educational for you.

Live well.

--Zavost