2012

Chapter 10: Stars and Stripes Forever
[Go to beginning]

Reince Priebus had just gotten off the phone with a Justice Department staff member when his cell phone ring tone, Stars and Stripes Forever, sounded. He checked the caller ID and saw it was blocked. He answered it, because he knew Karl Rove blocked his ID and he’d been getting calls from Rove every few hours. “Hello?”

“Reince, this is Karl. What’s the status on your letter to Justice on Obama’s illegal campaign ad?”

Rove had alerted Priebus to an ad that the Obama campaign had videotaped in the White House map room, telling him that it was illegal. “Write a letter to Holder and leak it to the media,” Rove had demanded.

Priebus knew that previous presidents had done the same sort of thing, including most recently, George W. Bush, and he knew that Justice considered it fine and dandy. But he also knew that Rove’s gambit had nothing to do with what Justice would or wouldn’t do, but was all about the spin.

“I sent the letter and just got off the phone with some third-tier flunky at Justice. She said they would take it under consideration, but not to expect an answer any time soon,” Priebus said.

“But you leaked it to the press?” Rove said.

“Absolutely.”

“Good. Listen, I finally talked with Romney and Gingrich. They’ve agreed to go along with the Roemer package.” Rove wasn’t being truthful on this, but he’d gotten both potential nominees to waffle word him a response that would be good enough for a second-level cabinet post or an ambassadorial position somewhere. “I’m meeting with Buddy this afternoon. Have someone on your staff make up all the paperwork to establish a third party. I want to--”

“On MY staff?” Priebus said. Priebus knew he shouldn’t even be talking to Rove, let alone assisting him in his various schemes. But with Rove came money, and money was what it was all about.

“I have my people up to their eyeballs in working senate elections, Reince. Checking the metrics, building the volunteer organizations. Lots of stuff. I’ve just had my lawyers submit an advisory opinion to FEC saying it’s legal to use incumbent members of Congress in advertisements.”

Rove’s American Crossroads PAC had formally requested it be allowed to produce and distribute television and radio advertisements featuring on camera footage or voice-overs of incumbent members of congress up for re-election. The purpose of the ads would be promote Republican members of Congress up for reelection, but American Crossroads lawyers argued that the spots would focus on policy and legislative issues.

“So I heard,” said Priebus. “But look, Karl, if it gets out that the RNC is putting together the paperwork to form a third party, we could all go to jail.”

“Well I doubt that,” said Rove. I wouldn’t be going to jail, he thought. “But okay, I’ll get DCI to do it.”

DCI Group was a high-powered Republican lobby and PR firm that claimed it helped corporations ‘navigate their most challenging political, legislative and regulatory problems anywhere in the world.’ They were practiced at what they called ‘reframing the issue,’ and working through ‘think tanks’ to cast doubt on scientific findings detrimental to their client’s interests. Rove made frequent use of their services.

“How’s the primary schedule shaping up?” Rove asked, knowing that Priebus had been fighting to keep the state’s from leap-frogging each other to move up their primary dates to gain influence in picking the Party’s candidate.

“Iowa, New Hampshire, South Carolina, and Florida in January. Anybody try to move their date up is gonna have their delegates pulled,” Priebus said.

“Atta boy! said Rove. “Listen, Reince, it just occurred to me that we could use DCI to help push those new laws to, uh, level the playing field on voting. What do you think?”

Rove was talking about GOP attempts to require government-issued photo identification for voting, eliminate same day voter registration, require proof of citizenship to register to vote, including a passport, impose stricter requirements for voter registration drives, reduce early voting days. The idea was to make voting harder for about five million people in the 2012 election; people who traditionally voted democratic.

“We’re making progress all down the line in about 12 states, but any help we can get, unofficially, of course...” and here Priebus chuckled, “...would be greatly appreciated.”

“You got it!” Rove said. “What are you doing about Devine’s decision blocking that suit on prison-based gerrymandering?”

Rove was talking about Republican efforts to have prisoners counted in the districts where they were incarcerated, instead of their home of record, thereby inflating population statistics in favor of less-densely populated Republican districts.

“We have our lawyers reviewing the decision,” Priebus said, checking the ID on another call he had.

“Okay. Well, I’ll keep you posted on the soon-to-be announced OWS third party.” Rove hung up and immediately called Roemer’s number.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

2012

Chapter 7: Anger Points

[Go to beginning]

Karl Rove sent a text to James O’Keefe, “Send more photos from OWS. Hire more helpers.” ‘Helpers’ was a euphemism for the homeless guys O’Keefe was paying to wander around Occupy Wall Street rallies and sit-ins. In a stroke of genius, O’Keefe was paying his 'helpers' with beer.

Rove turned his attention to the list he was making on a BlackBerry digital notepad app. It was labeled, ‘Anger points.’ At the same time he was listening to Reince Priebus on his cell. Priebus was whining that it was near impossible to arrange a deal for Roemer when the GOP hadn’t yet nominated its presidential candidate.

“Listen, Reince, I’m meeting with Roemer again Monday. I need to lay this out for him.” Rove got up, flushed the toilet, and walked into the bedroom of his hotel. “You need to get the top three together and tell them no RNC money unless they all agree to the deal.”

“The top three?” said Priebus.

“Romney, Gingrich, and Cain,” Rove said, punching the room service number on the desk phone.

“But what if--”

Rove interrupted, “What if Bachmann gets the nod, or Santorum, or Paul, or--”

“Perry,” said Priebus.

“Have you seen his numbers recently? The guy is shooting himself in the foot, when he doesn’t have it in his mouth. He’s losing contributors right and left. He won’t have the money to see it through. Believe me, I know,” said Rove, checking his BlackBerry for the latest polling on the Republican candidates.

“Well...,” Priebus said.

“Club sandwich, potato salad, pickle, and a coke,” Rove said.

“What?” Priebus said.

“Set up a conference call. I’ll handle it,” Rove said, ending the call before Priebus had a chance to protest.

Rove thumbed his smart phone until he found what he was looking for on Youtube. Then, while he ate, he watched the attack ad on Elizabeth Warren his Crossroads PAC had produced. He chuckled as Warren was shown in her ‘class warfare’ speech in the ad. The volume in the ad had been turned way down, so that the viewer couldn’t hear the substance of her argument. She was just gesticulating strenuously. She came out looking deranged, especially when superimposed over the chaotic scenes of the Oakland Occupy Wall Street protests. The ad’s ominous music was a bit cheesy, but in Rove’s opinion, cheesy never hurt when it came to politics. The ad cost Rove’s PAC nearly $600K, but it was worth it. The GOP couldn’t afford to lose Scott Brown’s senate seat.

By the time Rove walked out of the Ritz-Carlton and into a waiting taxi it was almost 2 pm and he still had a lot on his ‘to do’ list. His first stop was GOP Headquarters. On the way there he continued to add to his ‘anger points’ list. ‘Guns’ topped the list, followed by ‘homosexuality/gay marriage. Then he wrote, ‘Barney Frank.’ He paused, put his hand on his stomach, belched, and then dry-swallowed an antacid. Then he wrote ‘Nancy Pelosi.’ Then in rapid succession he wrote, ‘abortion,’ ‘mandated health insurance,’ ‘high cost of gas,’ ‘global warming hoax,’ and ‘unemployment.’ Rove paused to look out the window as his taxi navigated downtown Boston, and then finished his list with, ‘OWS.’ and put away his BlackBerry as the taxi pulled up in front of the drab, brick building that served as GOP Headquarters.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

2012

Chapter 6: Pigeon hunting in NH slow

[Go to beginning]

Instead of heading directly back to the airport, Rove told his taxi driver to take him to the Red Arrow Diner; a cup of coffee and soggy piece of pumpkin pie at the Science Center didn’t cut it. On the way, he texted Reince Priebus, “Pigeon hunting in NH slow.”

As Rove slid into a booth at the rear of the diner he saw a photo of Barack Obama on the wall at the end of the bench. Obama had come through the diner during the 2008 election, along with every candidate except McCain. Had to hand it to Obama. He was a was savvy politician.

Rove ordered a ‘DinahMoe’ from a incurably cheerful, young waitress, who seemed not to recognize him, thumbed through messages on his BlackBerry, and paged through the day’s issue of the Union Leader.

A story about Republican state Rep. J.R. Hoell of Dunbarton co-sponsoring a bill to allow guns on university campuses caught his attention. Hoell was arguing that as long as UNH received taxpayer money, they were a ‘subdivision of the state,’ should abide by the Second Amendment, and overturn their prohibition against firearms on campus.

Rove made a note to himself to think about how to better use the whole gun rights issue to his advantage in 2012. Maybe he could manufacture a rumor that Obama was planning to reinstitute the automatic weapons ban once he was reelected. Hell, he probably was. He quickly typed the outline for an Op Ed and emailed it to Chris Stirewalt at Fox.

Rove went through his email and text messages and finished scanning the paper as he wolfed down the huge DinahMoe steak burger that was a favorite of Red Arrow patrons. No wonder Americans are fat, he thought, as he polished off the last of his french fries. Before he left for the airport he took an interior photo of the Red Arrow with his smart phone and twitted, “Thanksgiving on the road at Red Arrow; work, work work.”

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

2012

Chapter One: How do you pronounce Reince?


Karl Rove enjoyed the opulence of the posh Washington DC club in which he was breakfasting with the head of the RNC. It was these sort of perks that made him feel successful. He looked up from the newspaper he had spread in his ample lap. “Have you been following the Occupy Wall Street movement, Reince?” he asked his companion, a pasty-faced, buttoned-down younger man shoveling hash browns into his mouth.

Priebus looked up at Rove and frowned. It irked him that Rove refused to pronounce his name correctly. It rhymed with Heinz, like the catchup, not rinse, like the wash cycle. Priebus picked up his napkin from his lap and very deliberately wiped his mouth before responding. “Those hippie freeloaders? I could care less.”

“Well, you should care. They could help us elect a Republican president in 2012.” Rove narrowed his eyes and stared at Priebus. What a cypher, he thought.

Priebus sat back in his upholstered arm chair. What the fuck does Karl have up his sleeve now? he wondered. “How’s that, Karl?”

Rove dabbed at the perspiration on his forehead with his large, linen napkin. Then removed his glasses and polished the lenses. “Reince, you know what the spoiler effect is,” he drawled.

Priebus narrowed his eyes. “You mean like in sports?”

“Are we talking about sports, son?” Rove said. “I mean, goddangit Reince, put on your thinking cap!”

Priebus flinched visibly. God I hate it when he goes into his god-damned lecture mode. Just say what the fuck you mean and get it over with. “What do you mean?”

“In the 2000 election... you were old enough to vote then, right?” Rove said, with just the hint of a smile.

Priebus opened his mouth, but before he could respond, Rove guffawed. “Just joshing ya, son.” Rove said.

Priebus looked at Rove with an expression between disgust -- it made him nauseous to see the waddle under Rove’s double chin tremble -- and malice. Rove was such a dick. “I remember the 2000 election,” Priebus said.

“Well then you remember the kingmaker; the fellow who got Dubya elected.”

“You?” Priebus said.

“Ralph Nader, boy. Ralph, unsafe at any speed, Nader. That’s what a spoiler in politics is, and that’s what we’re gonna create for the 2012 Presidential Election, and we’re gonna mold it right outta the mud and shit of the Occupy Wall Street morass.” Rove slammed his open palm down on the table making the silverware, the plates, and Priebus jump.

“How the hell..., I mean--” Priebus stammered.

“Third party candidate. Someone the hippies -- I mean the noble youth -- can identify with. A person with all the liberal left bone-fides; a green, socialist, gay marriage, pro-abortion, free love liberal. Someone we’ll help get on the ballot, and support right up to the election.” Bubbles of spit floated in the air over Rove’s place setting as he grew in excitement. 

“You’re talking about co-opting the Occupy Wall Street movement?” said Priebus.

“Hell no, Priebus. Stephen Colbert’s already tried that. I’m talking about infiltrating it.”

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.