[Chapter 832: The Passionate American Dream]
"Dude, when did I ever discriminate against you?" Facing the relentless questions from reporters, the hefty Harvey wore a face full of anguish.
He had just boasted about the recent box office success, thrilled that an additional two hundred theaters were showing their film. Now, barely days into his joy, he found himself in the midst of a rumored scandal.
"Mr. Weinstein, please watch your language. I reserve the right to pursue legal action against you," one reporter shot back.
For Harvey, who grew up in Queens, using foul language was second nature. If there wasn't an F-bomb in three sentences, he likely wouldn't talk at all.
Harvey was still on his way up, struggling to shake off his rough persona. The pack of paparazzi wasn't intimidated, though. If he acted all high and mighty, they felt frustrated, but this current drama was exactly what they relished.
The American birth rate wasn't high, and there were reasons for that. With the stress of life, if one didn't have a decent, stable job, the thought of having kids was pretty far-fetched.
From William White's perspective, there might even be some conspiracy in play. You see, the birth rates among the upper middle class weren't low at all, perhaps significantly higher than those from typical households.
Don't be surprised; America is an elite society, and education reflects that as well. They believed that if there were more elite citizens, the foundation of society would be more stable.
It was said that America operated like an olive-shaped society, with the lower classes and the very top being the minority. The majority comprised the middle class, making their social order incredibly stable.
Ahem, just listening to that might lead one to think the world was all sunshine and rainbows. And let's clarify, how does one define the lower class?
If a lack of a roof over one's head defined the lower class, then sure, you'd be correct. But if that's your standard, then besides that magical land where everything is possible, the rest of the world is pretty much the same.
If you tightened that definition, you'd classify anyone below the middle class as lower class. America, at its core, also had a pyramid structure to its society, resembling many countries around the globe.
Lower-class folks tend to waste public resources, and their tax contributions were minimal. Ahem, perhaps their birth rates shouldn't be so high; otherwise, things could get out of hand.
"Mr. White, Mr. White, what are your thoughts on the issue of homosexuality?"
"What? Are you kidding me, or are you out of your mind? I'm really sorry, but I'm not interested in your question."
A bit flustered, Harvey, who had just come out of a restaurant, found himself facing the relentless paparazzi once again.
Even though he had bodyguards, they couldn't get close enough in situations like this. Certain topics, though, were unavoidable. You could bet the press would spin it into a headline claiming that William White looked down on issues surrounding the LGBTQ+ community.
What he answered was off the record. Using his faith as a shield was more effective than anything else.
Of course, the guy who had just been put in an embarrassing position didn't care about the sneers from fellow journalists. He secretly hoped that one of William White's bodyguards would throw him a beating; that would at least make his day.
"Mr. White, so you're saying you oppose this matter, then?"
"Oppose? Why would I? Dude, you have the right to go about things however you want. Whether it's with someone of the same sex or any other legal activity, that's your business, not mine. There's no reason for me to oppose it."
"Seriously, no need to feel ashamed about it. Just do you," William White said before striding away, flanked by his bodyguards, leaving a group of puzzled paparazzi behind.
As he heard the raucous laughter behind him, William shrugged off the incident. What was the big deal? He wasn't against it, so they shouldn't expect him to be a cheerleader either.
His bodyguards struggled to suppress their laughter; the boss really had a way with his words. With just a couple of lines, he turned that reporter into a laughing stock.
This kind of exchange only emerged in recent years. Once the current administration took power, there was no avoiding public support. Particularly for public figures, if they didn't back something, they could face severe backlash.
If they uttered a few more ill-timed statements, a court summons would certainly follow, charging them with discrimination. Ultimately, the stakes could become as serious as those offenses against marginalized groups.
This situation, while seeming simple, was complex. If one wasn't a public figure, others wouldn't really hold it against them. But once in the public eye, failing to show support was deemed politically incorrect.
"Ha! That fat guy got what was coming to him for trying to steal my script," William chuckled wickedly as he watched Harvey struggle on TV.
"Oh, you're laughing now? If that script really belonged to you, then this mess would be all yours too."
"Wrong, Nastassja. Those guys completely missed the point. The demagogue in the movie wasn't there to poke fun at them. The villain's downfall was due to being part of a gang."
"Anyone in that life usually gets what's coming to them, and the boss is no exception. Didn't you find it a bit ridiculous that a supposed gang leader was out on the street all alone?"
Nastassja paused, not having considered that angle. Still, her little man clearly had no love for such stories.
"Are you not worried about being accused of discrimination?" she asked, teasing him.
"Discrimination? Why should I be? I looked back at the Bible yesterday and didn't find any guidance against it. I mean, God didn't say anything about it, so who are we to judge?"
"Ha, if you hold the Bible in such high regard, then why weren't you acting like a saint when things got heated?"
"Cough, cough, well, you're just too charming. Besides, you've corrupted me! I'm actually a very traditional guy."
He clearly had no shame left; Nastassja realized there was no outsmarting this guy.
"Sweetheart, what's up with all this chaos lately?"
"They're just being used; it's the donkey's secret weapon. You might not know this, but donkeys thrive on this kind of drama."
"Seriously? Clinton has a daughter and a wife; you're just throwing around baseless claims."
William shrugged, not wanting to continue down that road. Sure, he had a daughter, but it was likely from the neighbor, old Wang. If memory served, all of his schemes were quite flimsy.
Good thing they were flimsy. Otherwise, he might have ended up with yet another scandal to manage. As long as there was some technical support, it was possible to get tangled up without needing direct involvement.
William had long given up hope for the donkey's integrity. Let them keep stirring the pot; eventually, they'd realize that the demographic dividend would leave America.
Things were going well in America now, with military and technological strength being just part of the equation. From the late eighties to the new millennium, it was the prime consumer phase for the country. The biggest drivers of that weren't innovation or technology; it was the population boom from the baby boomers.
Now, a bunch of fools were advocating for a back-to-basic approach. What's with the population!? Old Ko, please don't tell me you're a mole for the Russians.
What William didn't know was that Old Ko was having a hard time too. The donkey's antics were things he couldn't oppose.
Abandoning intervention in Rwanda was a significant diplomatic blunder, but it wasn't that he didn't want to deploy troops. Since that absurd regulation took effect in the military, the atmosphere had become utterly chaotic. Sending these guys to Rwanda would lead to all sorts of crazy incidents.
*****
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