Home of The Brave: An 1960's Political RP (IC)

[Sao Nova Europa]

"A bit tired but overall good," Jonathan admitted. "Organizing a run for president isn't an easy thing to pull off, but I assume you already know this... But I'm still doing it; you know me, old age isn't going to stop me from doing something I want to do." Jonathan was silent for a few seconds. "I do wonder, do you ever miss the life in the military? I hope I am not the only one to reminisce of those times from time to time."

"Do I miss waking up in the morning at 5 O'Clock, making my bed, ironing my clothes, shining my boots, hiking with twenty pounds on my back, eating gruel for breakfast and supper, and then working out? Absolutely not," The President laughed, "but that was at the beginning before I got used to it, but towards the end of my career I loved it, the first day in the Army was the hardest and so was the last. I honestly didn't want to run for the top job, but I was assured that it was the best decision, and I still think it was. I do miss the comradery, the jovial yells after we finished those hikes, the pride I felt after I shined those boots, the grit I got after eating that gruel, and the respect I got from making that bed. That's, what I miss, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I disliked being a private, but I loved rising in the ranks, and getting the respect that I worked for all of those years."

"Me too... Well, Mr. President, I wouldn't want to take any more of your time. I know how busy your schedule is, and with the Republican primaries about to begin, it's even heavier than usual I assume. Hope we can talk again some time soon, though. It'll be good once in a while to chat like in the old times, without talking about all that political crap."

[Louisianan]

"Do I miss waking up in the morning at 5 O'Clock, making my bed, ironing my clothes, shining my boots, hiking with twenty pounds on my back, eating gruel for breakfast and supper, and then working out? Absolutely not," The President laughed, "but that was at the beginning before I got used to it, but towards the end of my career I loved it, the first day in the Army was the hardest and so was the last. I honestly didn't want to run for the top job, but I was assured that it was the best decision, and I still think it was. I do miss the comradery, the jovial yells after we finished those hikes, the pride I felt after I shined those boots, the grit I got after eating that gruel, and the respect I got from making that bed. That's, what I miss, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I disliked being a private, but I loved rising in the ranks, and getting the respect that I worked for all of those years."

"Me too... Well, Mr. President, I wouldn't want to take any more of your time. I know how busy your schedule is, and with the Republican primaries about to begin, it's even heavier than usual I assume. Hope we can talk again sometime soon, though. It'll be good once in a while to chat like in the old times, without talking about all that political crap."

"So do I, I really hope we can talk again. Goodbye, General." Henry said as he placed the handset back onto the rotary dial, and turned his television back on, "Oh boy....this is going to be a shit show, I can see it now."

[Latvijas Otra Republika]

Senator Lahde's Office - Capitol Hill

"Now I tell ya, Lahde old boy." A cigar light up as the hoarse Boston accent droned out more. "I don't know what's what- what- eh- is then an ego trip." He coughed and sniffled. "What are ya getting out of this, you serious?" He asked.
Floyd looked away from the gift of Gordon & Macphail whisky, cocking his finger around his pocket trying to not think of taking one glass of it.
"Dose it matter?" He replied in his shrewd Montana voice, a hint of it's clarity smoked away by a decade of drinking and smoking. "You get a scoop- that's what really matters. Only thing you need to know." He opened his palms upward, briefly gesturing his point away.
"Oh sonny, got me curious.." He shut his lips, thinking, and sarcastically smiled. "You- you!" He laughed. "You really think, the moral man - the big white house papa - you'll run for that." His laughs turned to loud hiccups. "You don't look to me the war hero type nor the god fearing one, Hey! I ain't complaining if it gives me something to write about." He wiped his chin.
"Ey, you can laugh." Floyd nonchalantly replied. "Maybe America is ready for a new class of President, maybe America is tired of rugged old." He began to imitate a stereotypical general accent. "stern men that know what's what." Pausing, he thought. "Maybe America wants a tabloid headline, just a guy - guy you'll share a beer with. A guy who'll get this country to live how it wants to live, a second roaring twenties. That's what we need."
The Boston man retrospectively smirked, looking down and thinking.
"Strange way to look at a big job like that." He puffed his cigarette. "It's gruelling work. Dial me, pal. I'll get the vinyl album guy to help - the uh - flashiness? But it'll cost a buck, it being put up as front yard posters and all."
"Thank you." Floyd replied, genuinely smiling.

PAGE 5 Segment

What do you, dear reader, think of the stereotypical big man in the White House?

A pillar of virtue?
A staunch leader?
A moral guider?

Or do you picture a reformer, a man who's mixed reputation precedes himself? A man who'll you'll either love or hate? A man who has lived both recklessly and with dignified honour?

Floyd Lahde

The Montanan Senator, whatever you think of him, is reportedly eyeing a possible run in the upcoming Presidential Election - listening to his own liberal radio talks you'd ought a' thought that earlier. According to insider insight, from an undisclosed aide, Floyd 'wants to positively rock the political scene in an absurdly good way - make Amerika more civil - more free - even more healthier.' Furthermore, this aide told us that he absolutely loves the on-coming barrage of the 'hopping' music scene. Amongst never-ending talks on big topics like extending social security, we received more interesting information the he'd talk to Khrushchev friendly -amongst a backdrop of mightily overwhelming U.S firepower-. And there's a final thing, he's got a big grudge on segregationists, typical.

Is our favourite strange Montanan Senator joking around, or is he actually going to do it? Or more importantly, should he even try? We don't care, as long as he gets us printing more of those juicy celebrity-turned-politician editorials.

Senator Lahde's Home

The senator laid on his bed, near drifting to sleep as he read a small black book. The moon glistened outside, under a canopy of spruce covered hills. His thoughts slowly wandered off into the surrounding shadows of his room. In some small corner of his mind, something beckoned to him, something briefly made him feel forgotten - lost to time. He fell asleep, the feeling scattering away.

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Tom Fraser, New York Governor-Elect, January 1st, 1959


Tom looked out the window of his New York residence out at the rest of the to skyline after having just listened to the president's near years' address, sipping from a glass of champagne

"Thinking about your next conquest, aren't you honey? You can't even been sworn if for your latest." Tom's wife, Sofia said, as she approached him frim behind.

Tom turned around to look at his wife, the look of contemplation on his face being replaced by a small smile.

"Having power is a whole lot like being a shark, Sofia. If you don't move, you suffocate, or you sink to the bottom of the ocean. Some realize that, others don't. I do." Tom responded.

"I know, Tommy, that's why I married you." Sofia smiled back.

"It's paramount that the actions I take as governor allow me to use it as a stepping stone to the presidency. I have some ideas, for example, for my inauguration speech to set out the agenda for my time in office, that begins on the 7th and ends upon my inauguration as President, be in '61, 65, '69, as long as it takes." Tom continued

"So I trust you'll be making a few telegrams soon?" Sofia asked.

"Correct my dear. I have little doubt that the the conservative wing of the Grand Old Party are going to attempt to wheel out Johnny again, He's been beat back before, but we can't risk him making it in. Nevermind our chances against the democrats were that to happen, who, heaven forbid might end up possessed by the sons and daughters of those rattlesnake and alligator Dixiecrats, I worry for the consequences to this country even if he were to win. Therefore, it's paramount that the liberal wing of this party remain united, so that we might avenge Ole' teddy and enshrine ourselves forever the party of Lincoln. I know not every man we need to contact, but I can think of a few and that's a start."

He sent two Telegrams, one to Joseph Gorski Warszawski and another to Fred Stark, which, in addition to some pleasantries, went roughly like this:

I wish to speak you in person about the upcoming Presidential primaries, before the 7th of this month.

[Jovuistan]

Stark nodded slowly. "I'm strongly considering it. Nothing is final until later, of course, but I believe I have what it takes to take the reins come '61. I know you don't plan on picking sides in the primary, but just know that I would keep up the work you've been doing if I do end up in that chair. We just have to keep it away from the Democrats, first of all."

"You're right about that....right about that indeed. They'll be attacking us on every end, from the minor recession last year, to Vietnam, to Russia, to everything else under God's green earth. Hell, I remember they attacked some Representatives on my frequent fishing or golfing trips. Our candidates will have to stand strong, no buckling under pressure, use our qualifications against the ones that we tower over." Henry shook his head, "No buckling, none at all..."

"Absolutely no buckling." Stark nodded fiercely as he took another smoke. "And honestly, we gotta put down those damn rascals on the conservative wing. They're gonna try to undo everything you and I and so many other leaders have accomplished over this decade. That's part of why I'm thinking of running, actually. We need someone to stop the radicals from taking over our party before we start looking like the Democrats."

[Louisianan]

"You're right about that....right about that indeed. They'll be attacking us on every end, from the minor recession last year, to Vietnam, to Russia, to everything else under God's green earth. Hell, I remember they attacked some Representatives on my frequent fishing or golfing trips. Our candidates will have to stand strong, no buckling under pressure, use our qualifications against the ones that we tower over." Henry shook his head, "No buckling, none at all..."

"Absolutely no buckling." Stark nodded fiercely as he took another smoke. "And honestly, we gotta put down those damn rascals on the conservative wing. They're gonna try to undo everything you and I and so many other leaders have accomplished over this decade. That's part of why I'm thinking of running, actually. We need someone to stop the radicals from taking over our party before we start looking like the Democrats."

"A friend of mine, General Jonathan Jackson plans on running. I just sent him a telegram, and I expect him to call later on. He is further right than me, he's an old general, he's got that Old General Drive, you know. If he runs, I'll be in a very tough spot. We have got to keep our conservative message alive, ours, not theirs. The further right they tilt, the further left it makes the Democrats seem, and we honestly can't afford that. The 1960 election is going to set a map," Davis says as he removes his pipe and started waving his arms,

"of the 60s. We have got to start off well or we won't end well. We need to keep strong on Russia, and we need to tell the southerners and the coloreds that we are not going to tolerate the unruly behavior emanating from the south, and we have got to make sure that the coloreds come out on top in that issue, they're a major voting block, and if the Democrats from up north start showing sympathy, then bye bye black Republicans." Davis shook his head,

"Big voting block alright. A big one indeed. For now, we should meet in the middle, but eventually, we're going to need to pick a side, and I'm on the side of the Black folks down there, I hope our next president will be too. Politics is business that throws morals down the drain all to gain power, and I'm against that. Stand your ground, Mr. Stark, stand your ground."

[Jovuistan]

Tom Fraser, New York Governor-Elect, January 1st, 1959


Tom looked out the window of his New York residence out at the rest of the to skyline after having just listened to the president's near years' address, sipping from a glass of champagne

"Thinking about your next conquest, aren't you honey? You can't even been sworn if for your latest." Tom's wife, Sofia said, as she approached him frim behind.

Tom turned around to look at his wife, the look of contemplation on his face being replaced by a small smile.

"Having power is a whole lot like being a shark, Sofia. If you don't move, you suffocate, or you sink to the bottom of the ocean. Some realize that, others don't. I do." Tom responded.

"I know, Tommy, that's why I married you." Sofia smiled back.

"It's paramount that the actions I take as governor allow me to use it as a stepping stone to the presidency. I have some ideas, for example, for my inauguration speech to set out the agenda for my time in office, that begins on the 7th and ends upon my inauguration as President, be in '61, 65, '69, as long as it takes." Tom continued

"So I trust you'll be making a few telegrams soon?" Sofia asked.

"Correct my dear. I have little doubt that the the conservative wing of the Grand Old Party are going to attempt to wheel out Johnny again, He's been beat back before, but we can't risk him making it in. Nevermind our chances against the democrats were that to happen, who, heaven forbid might end up possessed by the sons and daughters of those rattlesnake and alligator Dixiecrats, I worry for the consequences to this country even if he were to win. Therefore, it's paramount that the liberal wing of this party remain united, so that we might avenge Ole' teddy and enshrine ourselves forever the party of Lincoln. I know not every man we need to contact, but I can think of a few and that's a start."

He sent two Telegrams, one to Joseph Gorski Warszawski and another to Fred Stark, which, in addition to some pleasantries, went roughly like this:

I wish to speak you in person about the upcoming Presidential primaries, before the 7th of this month.

Senator Stark read the Telegram with great interest. The Governor mentioning the primaries, in particular, stuck out to him. He decided to go along with the meeting and replied back.

I am open to a meeting on the 6th. Shall we meet at the Governor's Mansion?

[Jovuistan]

"Absolutely no buckling." Stark nodded fiercely as he took another smoke. "And honestly, we gotta put down those damn rascals on the conservative wing. They're gonna try to undo everything you and I and so many other leaders have accomplished over this decade. That's part of why I'm thinking of running, actually. We need someone to stop the radicals from taking over our party before we start looking like the Democrats."

"A friend of mine, General Jonathan Jackson plans on running. I just sent him a telegram, and I expect him to call later on. He is further right than me, he's an old general, he's got that Old General Drive, you know. If he runs, I'll be in a very tough spot. We have got to keep our conservative message alive, ours, not theirs. The further right they tilt, the further left it makes the Democrats seem, and we honestly can't afford that. The 1960 election is going to set a map," Davis says as he removes his pipe and started waving his arms,

"of the 60s. We have got to start off well or we won't end well. We need to keep strong on Russia, and we need to tell the southerners and the coloreds that we are not going to tolerate the unruly behavior emanating from the south, and we have got to make sure that the coloreds come out on top in that issue, they're a major voting block, and if the Democrats from up north start showing sympathy, then bye bye black Republicans." Davis shook his head,

"Big voting block alright. A big one indeed. For now, we should meet in the middle, but eventually, we're going to need to pick a side, and I'm on the side of the Black folks down there, I hope our next president will be too. Politics is business that throws morals down the drain all to gain power, and I'm against that. Stand your ground, Mr. Stark, stand your ground."

"Jackson?" Stark was surprised. "I would've figured he had gotten too old for that. Well, he's certainly a formidable general, but you're right in that he's too conservative to be controlling the direction of the party. You know which side I'm on when it comes to southern disputes. Blacks are going to be an essential voting block in the future in my view. I'll do everything in my power to make sure they're in our corner, and of course, it's just the right thing to do. I never understood the idea that Blacks are somehow inhuman, honestly."

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Tom Fraser, New York Governor-Elect, January 1st, 1959


Tom looked out the window of his New York residence out at the rest of the to skyline after having just listened to the president's near years' address, sipping from a glass of champagne

"Thinking about your next conquest, aren't you honey? You can't even been sworn if for your latest." Tom's wife, Sofia said, as she approached him frim behind.

Tom turned around to look at his wife, the look of contemplation on his face being replaced by a small smile.

"Having power is a whole lot like being a shark, Sofia. If you don't move, you suffocate, or you sink to the bottom of the ocean. Some realize that, others don't. I do." Tom responded.

"I know, Tommy, that's why I married you." Sofia smiled back.

"It's paramount that the actions I take as governor allow me to use it as a stepping stone to the presidency. I have some ideas, for example, for my inauguration speech to set out the agenda for my time in office, that begins on the 7th and ends upon my inauguration as President, be in '61, 65, '69, as long as it takes." Tom continued

"So I trust you'll be making a few telegrams soon?" Sofia asked.

"Correct my dear. I have little doubt that the the conservative wing of the Grand Old Party are going to attempt to wheel out Johnny again, He's been beat back before, but we can't risk him making it in. Nevermind our chances against the democrats were that to happen, who, heaven forbid might end up possessed by the sons and daughters of those rattlesnake and alligator Dixiecrats, I worry for the consequences to this country even if he were to win. Therefore, it's paramount that the liberal wing of this party remain united, so that we might avenge Ole' teddy and enshrine ourselves forever the party of Lincoln. I know not every man we need to contact, but I can think of a few and that's a start."

He sent two Telegrams, one to Joseph Gorski Warszawski and another to Fred Stark, which, in addition to some pleasantries, went roughly like this:

I wish to speak you in person about the upcoming Presidential primaries, before the 7th of this month.

Senator Stark read the Telegram with great interest. The Governor mentioning the primaries, in particular, stuck out to him. He decided to go along with the meeting and replied back.

I am open to a meeting on the 6th. Shall we meet at the Governor's Mansion?

Tom Fraser was encouraged to get a timely reply, he'd have preferred sooner rather than later, but he couldn't fairly expect people to drop everything and meet him as soon as possible.

As the Republican Senator of a Democrat run neighboring state, I suppose that'd be appropriate enough.

[Jovuistan]

Senator Stark read the Telegram with great interest. The Governor mentioning the primaries, in particular, stuck out to him. He decided to go along with the meeting and replied back.

I am open to a meeting on the 6th. Shall we meet at the Governor's Mansion?

Tom Fraser was encouraged to get a timely reply, he'd have preferred sooner rather than later, but he couldn't fairly expect people to drop everything and meet him as soon as possible.

As the Republican Senator of Democrat run neighboring state, I suppose that'd be appropriate enough.

Stark read through the response quickly before shooting his own reply.

The 6th it is. See you there.

[Louisianan]

"A friend of mine, General Jonathan Jackson plans on running. I just sent him a telegram, and I expect him to call later on. He is further right than me, he's an old general, he's got that Old General Drive, you know. If he runs, I'll be in a very tough spot. We have got to keep our conservative message alive, ours, not theirs. The further right they tilt, the further left it makes the Democrats seem, and we honestly can't afford that. The 1960 election is going to set a map," Davis says as he removes his pipe and started waving his arms,

"of the 60s. We have got to start off well or we won't end well. We need to keep strong on Russia, and we need to tell the southerners and the coloreds that we are not going to tolerate the unruly behavior emanating from the south, and we have got to make sure that the coloreds come out on top in that issue, they're a major voting block, and if the Democrats from up north start showing sympathy, then bye bye black Republicans." Davis shook his head,

"Big voting block alright. A big one indeed. For now, we should meet in the middle, but eventually, we're going to need to pick a side, and I'm on the side of the Black folks down there, I hope our next president will be too. Politics is business that throws morals down the drain all to gain power, and I'm against that. Stand your ground, Mr. Stark, stand your ground."

"Jackson?" Stark was surprised. "I would've figured he had gotten too old for that. Well, he's certainly a formidable general, but you're right in that he's too conservative to be controlling the direction of the party. You know which side I'm on when it comes to southern disputes. Blacks are going to be an essential voting block in the future in my view. I'll do everything in my power to make sure they're in our corner, and of course, it's just the right thing to do. I never understood the idea that Blacks are somehow inhuman, honestly."

"I fought with them." Davis said, "In the War. I fought with them, I led them, and they are honestly just like you or me. Nothing wrong with them," Davis said as he puffed out a huge ball of smoke, "Nothing at all. Good people, great people. Look at their music for God's sakes, Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald. They all beat that crap that Presley son of a gun is trying to sing." Davis attempts to dance by shaking and wobbling his elbows, only failing in the end, but laughs it off, "I mean really, I think we should stick with the likes of Buddy Holly, pure, American, clean, boys. Not some beatnik Hippies, wearing motorcycle jackets, doing the boogaloo in a prison."

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Governor Fraser had only just moved into his new Albany residence, and his first major policy speech would be tomorrow. So it was in some ways fitting his first foray into the world of presidential primaries as a potential candidate for office would occur here.

He waited, patiently in his office fora Senator Stark. His staff was instructed to lead Stark to Fraser's office on his arrival.

[Newne Carriebean7]

Cedar Grove, Mississippi
January 1st, 1959
Joshua Sharp's lanky yet tall frame rose, the bedframe squeaking in protest as the springs got resettled and the wire-mesh comprised of some ingenious little fencing Hick had taught him. Yawning, his feet impacted the wooden floors in the home with a steady, if a bit off rythum of pitter patters. Quenching his thirst with a cup of water from his working tap, he briefly stood in the mirror to look at himself before he heard a car door slam.
He calmly waltzed downstairs to see his wife busily stirring away in the kitchen. Sharp's eyes softened greatly, and a warm smile came over him. Putting his hands around her hips lovingly, he gave him a hug as she slaved away over a makeshift griddle comprised of a wooden stove one of his neighbors had given him. He soon smelt ham, and he licked his lips appreciatively at his woman.
"Vel Doll. That smell's wonderful. Is it ready?"
"If you'll set the table It'll be out in a moment."
"Why, of course dear." The Mississippian responded before kissing his wife on the head, hugging her briefly for a moment before turning to sit down at the table, a plate, fork and cup in hand.
"Doll, ya wish to hear the president? My neighbor said last night he was giving a speech on the radio."
She nodded and shortly joined after him in the dining room where the radio was located. Two already poured glasses of the blood and guts of lemons sat perfectly symmetrical to either spot on opposite sides of the table. As their forks and knives made work of the hefty southern breakfast of homemade biscuts, ham and copious amounts of black pepper, the President of the United States began his remarks.

"Americans, President Henry Davis speaking. I'd like to welcome all of you into this New Year, 1959. As the last year of this decade, we should think harder now, more than ever, as to what we want America to be. Do we want hip swingers, on our televisions? Broadcasting to the nation? What will be our new standards of decency, of morality? Music has always been a piece of our culture, but do we want to showcase indecent artists like the teen idol Elvis Presley, to the rest of the world?"

Sharp nodded. For all the political differences with Davis, with him being from mars while Sharp located himself on Saturn, this was something he could get behind. Many in his state, mostly the local religous bishops and church leaders had all signed a petition urging something to be done about this "presley fellow." Maybe, just maybe, he could work with the republican on this issue, and perhaps boot this Elivs fella to Canada or some other country in europe with loose morals and an absense of decency? It was a possibility, one that made him slightly chuckle inbetween bites of ham and swigs of his lemonade at the thought of some tennessee no good singer being shipped off to east germany or some communist country.

"In the last year, we sent out our first satellite, established the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, and according to our statistics, we shall be the first country on the moon by 1962. We've done our best in attempting to desegregate the Southern states. My favorite team, the New York Yankees, have finally won the World Series. We can only hope that our country pushes forward in this New Year, guided by the Lord above, and not by the greed from below."

The Mississippian took the information in little tid bits in-between bites of ham and chasing the mush down with a swig of lemonade Lucy down his windpipe. He was proud of his country for standing up for the soviets. He had been blisteringly furious at the space gap that had developed between the godless communists and the good powers of America and whatever western allies they had told to march alongside. A solid three years? Sharp was optimistic, but not insane. He had serious doubts as to them getting such a heavy thing into the atmosphere, then you had to worry about gravity and whatever space problems would occur. While he had been as blindsided as everyone else as the soviet's man in space, he suspected the communists cheated, or made the entire damn thing up! President Davis's mention of desegregating the southern way of life, forcibly marching up there and demanding changes for "the good of man" or whatever left-leaning bullshit was barked out. The Southern states never demanded the North segregate? Why the hell was the President getting his nose involved in issues that were clearly a state affair. It was the right of the South, it was the right of Mississippi to decide what was best for her.

Joshua Sharp was enraged, the Gaul of the president to march down here and tell the south what to do. Didn't that goddamn idiot know slavery was outlawed?! Mississippi would not be cast in chains anytime soon, he knew it.
An abrupt slam of the door to the outhouse outside followed, with Sharp's trodden feet being met gently with the stones that made a path to and from the house to the toilet. He simply marveled at the gratuitous amounts of snow that was already on the ground, coating everything in a frigid layer of whiteness. It was bitterly cold, with him still in his one piece night-gown and clutching the little head cap he wore tightly, attempting to maneuver it frequently around his body for some semblance of warmth. The inside of the outhouse wasn't much better, being a hole in the ground with a place to sit. Had he not grown used to the smell, he would have just done his business like a bear did in the woods, but, as the smells were as they were, he simply conducted himself before rushing back to the house.

Vell Doll was in the kitchen when he came back inside, doing the dishes.
"Doll, did you happen to catch what the president said about Alaska?"
"Um, he said that everyone wants a piece of the American dream, saying that Alaska's another unique place that'll be a proud addition as another state. Something like that, I was making the lemonade in the kitchen when he talked about Alaska."

Sharp's eyebrows widened at the new information. "Ah. Thank you dear. That damn man, it's just a bunch of snow! Why in tarnation would we need more snow?! Haven't we got enough of it here?! You know what they said to Steward when they bought Alaska? It's his folly. I'm going to have this in a new speech, Alaska: Davis's folly. I know he mentioned it just to throw some red meat to the liberal northerners in Boston and Maine. It doesn't do a damn thing for us!"
"Why, I'm sure those people in the snow are civilized."
"I'm well aware of that! I'm thinkin' and this is just me thinkin' for a moment, that it's a conspiracy to outnumber the southerners. At this rate we'd have to forcibly tell Batista to walk the plank or I'll introduce a bill in the senate that'll give a pathway to statehood for Cuba. I've just been thinkin' so It might be an illegal maneuver, and if so, I'll pull away from it. A-actually, you know what, and I'll know that you know damn well Doll- I'll talk it up with that senator from South Carolina when I get to Washington."
Sharp's eyes darted around the room when he noticed his wife abandoned him. So there he was talking to himself out loud in the sanctity of his own home. The sharp lay of a horn caught his ears by the horn, directing and distracting him from the dining room and towards the large glass windows by the front entrance to his home.

A bus sat idling, with several men mulling about in nice suits and some glass.
"Ah, my chief of staff! I still haven't bothered to learn your name, huh mr. chief of staff?" Sharp teased his chief of staff, who blushed momentarily at the childish display before readjusting the thick rims of his reading glasses over a brief chart.
"Let's... just get on the bus Senator. Don't want to be late to Washington now do we?"
"Oh, I'm loathe to leave Mississippi, but I have a mission and obligation to my Mississippians. What good would they be if they only had one white knight, everyone knows poor Mississippi needs two! I'm damn glad to be on my way." Senator Sharp stopped by a white, snow covered, wooden stake fence, soaking his former home up. He smiled from ear to ear momentarily before the mob of reporters that had walked throughout Mississippi, hounding the man with questions.

"Senator Sharp! In 1960, if you were to run for a third term, you'll be 73, and if you were to finish that term, you'll be almost in your eighties, do you have any plans to possibly retire before your term is up, and if so, when would a good time be?"
"Retire? Shit. I'm not retiring. I understand I'm older than you, hell, I was fightin' bravely in some trench in Flanders or France when your mamma was goin' through kindgergarbadge! Mississippi loves me. I love Mississippi. I was born here and I'm going to die here. Why the hell do you think I won in '54, because I spoke better than that damned flamboyant, gay cowboy carpetbagger?!"
"But you do understand that by the time you win a possible third term, you'll be 78 years old."
A slight frown formed on Sharp's features before he calmly put his arms around the reporters shoulders, speaking more quietly now.
"Boy, I'm sorry for snappin', sometimes I just say what's on my mind, and that was on my mind. Can you accept my apology?"
"Uh-Senator Sharp?"
Before he could say another word, Sharp's gaze turned to another reporter.
"Senator Sharp! Do you have any public comments on President Davis's New Year's address?"
"Public comments, oh boy, you shouldn't a said that. I'll let the bastard really have it when I get to Washington. He argues that Alaska should be a state. As you well know I voted against it, and I'm damn proud of it too. When Secretary of State Steward Bought the territory from the Russians, they called it "Stewards Folly." Seeing as President Davis made Alaska go from a territory to a state with the stroke of a pen, I see fit to update that moniker to "Davis's Folly!" I only wish that my colleagues on the other side of the aisle were able to see the worthlessness of damn snow and just left it that, damn snow!
However, that being said, I eagerly await to work with whatever the people of Alaska or their legislatures deem worthwhile political representation, be it democrat, republican or communist.

In spite of my general well-wishes of the President this new year, I must turn to politics. The President has the right of free speech, as any American does. Any colored can speak his mind in Mississippi, the only consequence is that there will be about forty whites shouting him out and possibly taking justice into their own hands. However, I must object that his statement on desegregation. How would he like it if a southern president, say me for example, say I was elected President in '60 and had a large majority in the senate of southern democrats and conservative republicans. Then I would shove down every bleeding heart liberal's throat segregation. I am not saying I will run for President, as I have always maintained a loyalty to Mississippi, the Union and my bottom line. President Davis is damned best keeping his nose out of Mississippi, or I'll go up to Washington myself and beat the shit out of him until he is black and blue, the only coloreds I want to see in Mississippi!

That being said, I do look forward to working closely with President Davis on efforts regarding our foreign war. I have every faith in the fiber of our being that we will emerge victorious. America has never lost a war, neither has Mississippi."
"What about the Civil War?"
"Oh fuck off and go to hell, otherwise known as southern hospitality, good day gentlemen."
With that, he disappeared into the greyhound bus, with a few reporters clambering to get a glimpse of the Mississippian as the driver slowly pressed on the gas, narrowly avoiding running a few journalists down (though not without trying) as the long drive to the capital began.

[Louisianan]

The Davis Administration's First Radio PSA of 1959

[Louisianan]

President Henry Davis had taken a liking to the Senators and Representatives of the opposing party, more specifically, the way they bashed him. He saw it as entertainment, and he would always write to his favorite celebrities.

Dear Senator Joshua Sharp,

I've just received a transcript of your outburst in Mississippi. Whilst I greatly appreciate your wanting to work with me, as well as the term, "Davis' Folly", I absolutely am genuinely surprised at your cockamamie threat of beating me to a pulp. I'd like to think that a very mature congressman such as yourself would have a little more decorum and respect for their president. Also, as a southerner I have to admit, Mississippi lost the civil war, and you were probably alive then, so I really think you ought to stop denying yourself the liberties of having history and truth on your side.

Sincerely,

[Sao Nova Europa]

After his call with the President, Jonathan stood up from his wooden chair and headed to the kitchen. He prepared a cup for tea for himself and brought it to his study. He sat on his chair and sipped a gulp of hot tea. "Nice..." he murmured. He had to make another call, this time to James Harrison. A former journalist for a number of papers, James had retired about ten years ago and instead had began work as a campaign manager for conservative candidates - both on state and on national level.

James was amongst those who had persuaded Jonathan to run for the presidency, and he was his senior campaign manager. Jonathan dialed his number on the rotary phone. "James," he said. "Just spoke with the President."

"I assume he wasn't exactly pleased with you being a candidate?" James replied.

"No. He told me he believes we cannot afford to turn the party to the right. I respect the President, but I disagree with him. If we can assemble a coalition of Republicans and conservative Democrats, we can easily turn the tables and score a great victory."

"Indeed. Also, from the research I've been doing, it seems that you might be the only conservative candidate in the primaries. If that's the case, then we can exploit this to our advantage; while the moderate vote will be split among a number of different candidates, you will unite the conservative wing behind you and make a show of force. The party bosses won't be able to ignore a strong conservative movement. At the same time, though, it will be wise not to cut bridges with them. We need the moderates to unite the party behind you once the nomination is secured. You need to start talking with some of the more influential moderate Senators and Representatives, to get them to at least tolerate you."

Jonathan sighed. He never really liked all that scheming involved in politics, but he accepted the wisdom of James' advice. "Alright, will be making some calls."

"Nice. Also, we need to be careful about your public profile. With all due respect, General, you are old. We need to carefully control the image that the press and people see, so as to avoid showing signs of weakness or any blunders. Instead, we can use your age to argue that you are a seasoned statesman, someone who can be trusted with leading the nation, rather than someone younger and inexperienced. We will also be making full use of your time in Japan, to showcase how your reforms led to the 'new Japan'; unlike other candidates, you can claim to have already led a nation and that you have governing experience. Thirdly, we need to focus a lot on your war career too; we can tie it with the Vietnam war. 'I beat the Japanese, I can beat the Vietnamese', can be your message. You can claim you will end this war with a clear victory that shall bring honor and glory to America and show to the Communists that America is to be feared and respected."

Jonathan nodded. A few seconds later, he realized that since they were talking through the phone, James couldn't have seen that. "Yes, yes. Will do that. I agree."

[Jovuistan]

(Image)

Governor Fraser had only just moved into his new Albany residence, and his first major policy speech would be tomorrow. So it was in some ways fitting his first foray into the world of presidential primaries as a potential candidate for office would occur here.

He waited, patiently in his office fora Senator Stark. His staff was instructed to lead Stark to Fraser's office on his arrival.

Stark walked up the steps as he took in the scenery around him. He always loved New York. It was the perfect place to go just visit and relax whenever he got a break. He was considering perhaps even retiring there when he got too old to keep going. For now, he had a meeting to attend to.

He was guided by staff to the office of the Governor. He gave off a light smile as he entered.

"Governor Fraser! Nice to get to meet with you! How are you doing? Doing alright in your first days?"

[Newne Carriebean7]

Senator Sharp's Office, Capitol Hill
January 1st, 1959
A dull thud landed on his desk, waking the elderly senator from his brief "recharging" nap that he had taken in his office. Joshua Sharp was now dressed in a white suit he kept hanging from his office, thankful of the privacy the senate bathrooms provided. He smelt the cotton, all freshly made in the United States, with the top half of his three-piece suit coming from cotton mills in Mississippi, a proud reminder of the ingenuity and brilliantness of the southern united states. Along his walls were a few family photos, grainy images of wagon carts in the blisteringly hot southern summer.

Next to the ceiling fan was a 1:50 cast die model of the battleship USS Mississippi. A pair of Mississippi and American flags flanked either side of his desk, with a pair of seats in front for any concerns wary constituents want. He admired the photograph of his wife, and the picture of Warren G. Harding that had sat alongside her. His interest in the former President was one of mild curiosity, with a bookshelf containing a rather tattered and worn leatherback biography on the man that painted him in a favorable light, little detail being muttered about some Teapot Dome and passing mentions of cronyism and some sort of "Ohio Gang" favoritism.

He was so absorbed in admiring the possessions in his senate office that he failed to hear the door open, and was caught off guard when a letter nailed in square in the face.

"Gah! What the fuck is it Bill? Can't a southern boy get some privacy in admiring his fucking collection?!"
"Senator Sharp, It's Larry sir, this came straight from the commander in-chief."
"Why, I'm just honored." Sharp muttered, each syllable oozing out venom, his tongue scrawling around in his mouth to resemble a hiss of either a stove of boiling water or one of a snake or alligator hissing wickedly.
Fumbling around with his butter knife, he unceremoniously dug into the presidential letter, throwing away the envelope, which landed with a thud in the normally empty wastebasket.

Scanning the letter, his expression altered.
"Oh you pissed him off."
"No, it looks like he's amused at my political grandstanding. I'll have to clear this up with him. How about this: Dear president, I don't say sorry for nicknames, and if I disagree with you on something I'll loudly bitch and moan about it. However, on the issues where we can have common ground, such as beating the shit out of the soviet union in getting a man on the moon, or involvement in Vietnam, let's actively work in some vague bipartisan style way, from one old man to another. Let's learn off each other, I have years of racism under my belt and you've got the federal arsenal at your disposal. Maybe we can teach each other a thing or two?
.
eh?"
"Why the pause though at the end?"
"It's for comedic effect."
"You're not a very good comedian, I wouldn't quit your day job."
Sharp flashed a toothy grin at the joke, able to take the insult in stride and with pride.
"Fine, how about Dear President, I don't apologize for mistakes as a matter of principle, though I am more than willing to work with you across the political aisle in your Vietnamese and Space Race agendas, as those are policy positions which I am preferential towards and find a good deal of sympathy towards."
"No, no, just passively mention your 'willingness to see eye to eye or some shit like that.'"
"Fucking hell, got it. Do I actually apologize for wanting to beat the shit out of him?"
"If the secret service or the police want any chance to arrest you, you'd say no."
"I'm not threatening the damn bastard, I'm just talking shit. I like to talk some shit on the bus ride, gives my constituents the feeling like I've got that pitchfork, I'm sort of like Pitchfork ben, I'm Sharp with a Pitchfork. Sharp Pitchfork, Ha!"
"That'll be great for campaign material, brilliant senator, I'll jot that down. What about segregation? I'd advise to only mention it in passing."
" See to it that it's on campaign memorabilia for my next senate race. In Passing? Fuck no, I'll rally a defense to the south, and I want this letter leaked to the Press. My Mississippians will see that I'm mounting an effort agaisnt the malicious ill-intentions of northern predators on the southern way of life!"
"If you wish, Senator, I'll see to it that the Press also gets a copy of the letter."
With that, Josh Sharp finalized the two drafts, putting one in an envelope marked 'Press' and another marked 'President' before his aid nodded, leaving him just with a large cigarette that he eagerly lit up.
Exhaling on the good tobacco product, he grinned from ear to ear.
"Politics is the continuation of war via other means, bullshit. Politics is war." He spoke outload, staring wistfully at the little portrait of Warren G. Harding that was on his desk, patting the glass behind the photo.

Dear Mr. President.

As a matter of principle, I do not apologize for childish nicknames or whatever specials monikers I attach to your presidential policies or agenda that I disagree with. I disagree with you on Alaska, and think you made the wrong call granting statehood to a sparsely populated area that will just end up diluting the power of the southern congressional delegations following potential redistricting and reappointment once the results of the 1960 Census has been undertaken.

I thank you for your understanding of my full support agaisnt the communists in the space race. I urge you to use every single tool at your disposal to beat back the communist bastards where-ever they might end up at.

Between you and me, I can joke a hair about wanting us to add some warm state, so if we end up victorious on this Vietnam thing, I wouldn't mind vacationing in the potential state of Vietnam. Hell, I might even be able to work on my tan!

Past that, I must express my profound disgust at my lapse of judgement. If I was to clobber the shit out of you, I'd lose my job as a senator. That remark was totally and absolutely uncalled for. It's just that when I call someone out for something, they're going to hear it come hell or high water. I don't care if it's a beggar in the street or the president! It's also a matter of state pride. I love Mississippi. It's my second wife. The only way I could get a divorce from her would be in '60 if I choose not to run.

I have not made up my mind fully at the moment, so you might want to start packing just in case I change my mind. Unfortunately, I cannot stand idly by while you threaten the greatest peculiar institutions since slavery. Segregation works in the south, it keeps both races separate and equal, like what plessy v. ferguson said. We keep the coloreds in one side of the street and the rest of us good white folk on the other side of the street. Sure there might be some broken glass and the drinking fountains may not work properly sometimes, but that just comes with the increased infrastructure costs from segregation.

Post Script: I'm only kidding about running for President, I enjoy the Senate, I'd rather not have your load on your shoulders. For all I say and do I can at least respect you as a president, even if I vicously berate your political decisons from time to time. You're my commander-in-chief, and I'm rooting for you privately, even if I call you a skunk faced shit-head in the press occasionally.

Sincerely,

[Louisianan]

Senator Sharp's Office, Capitol Hill
January 1st, 1959
A dull thud landed on his desk, waking the elderly senator from his brief "recharging" nap that he had taken in his office. Joshua Sharp was now dressed in a white suit he kept hanging from his office, thankful of the privacy the senate bathrooms provided. He smelt the cotton, all freshly made in the United States, with the top half of his three-piece suit coming from cotton mills in Mississippi, a proud reminder of the ingenuity and brilliantness of the southern united states. Along his walls were a few family photos, grainy images of wagon carts in the blisteringly hot southern summer.

Next to the ceiling fan was a 1:50 cast die model of the battleship USS Mississippi. A pair of Mississippi and American flags flanked either side of his desk, with a pair of seats in front for any concerns wary constituents want. He admired the photograph of his wife, and the picture of Warren G. Harding that had sat alongside her. His interest in the former President was one of mild curiosity, with a bookshelf containing a rather tattered and worn leatherback biography on the man that painted him in a favorable light, little detail being muttered about some Teapot Dome and passing mentions of cronyism and some sort of "Ohio Gang" favoritism.

He was so absorbed in admiring the possessions in his senate office that he failed to hear the door open, and was caught off guard when a letter nailed in square in the face.

"Gah! What the fuck is it Bill? Can't a southern boy get some privacy in admiring his fucking collection?!"
"Senator Sharp, It's Larry sir, this came straight from the commander in-chief."
"Why, I'm just honored." Sharp muttered, each syllable oozing out venom, his tongue scrawling around in his mouth to resemble a hiss of either a stove of boiling water or one of a snake or alligator hissing wickedly.
Fumbling around with his butter knife, he unceremoniously dug into the presidential letter, throwing away the envelope, which landed with a thud in the normally empty wastebasket.

Scanning the letter, his expression altered.
"Oh you pissed him off."
"No, it looks like he's amused at my political grandstanding. I'll have to clear this up with him. How about this: Dear president, I don't say sorry for nicknames, and if I disagree with you on something I'll loudly bitch and moan about it. However, on the issues where we can have common ground, such as beating the shit out of the soviet union in getting a man on the moon, or involvement in Vietnam, let's actively work in some vague bipartisan style way, from one old man to another. Let's learn off each other, I have years of racism under my belt and you've got the federal arsenal at your disposal. Maybe we can teach each other a thing or two?
.
eh?"
"Why the pause though at the end?"
"It's for comedic effect."
"You're not a very good comedian, I wouldn't quit your day job."
Sharp flashed a toothy grin at the joke, able to take the insult in stride and with pride.
"Fine, how about Dear President, I don't apologize for mistakes as a matter of principle, though I am more than willing to work with you across the political aisle in your Vietnamese and Space Race agendas, as those are policy positions which I am preferential towards and find a good deal of sympathy towards."
"No, no, just passively mention your 'willingness to see eye to eye or some shit like that.'"
"Fucking hell, got it. Do I actually apologize for wanting to beat the shit out of him?"
"If the secret service or the police want any chance to arrest you, you'd say no."
"I'm not threatening the damn bastard, I'm just talking shit. I like to talk some shit on the bus ride, gives my constituents the feeling like I've got that pitchfork, I'm sort of like Pitchfork ben, I'm Sharp with a Pitchfork. Sharp Pitchfork, Ha!"
"That'll be great for campaign material, brilliant senator, I'll jot that down. What about segregation? I'd advise to only mention it in passing."
" See to it that it's on campaign memorabilia for my next senate race. In Passing? Fuck no, I'll rally a defense to the south, and I want this letter leaked to the Press. My Mississippians will see that I'm mounting an effort agaisnt the malicious ill-intentions of northern predators on the southern way of life!"
"If you wish, Senator, I'll see to it that the Press also gets a copy of the letter."
With that, Josh Sharp finalized the two drafts, putting one in an envelope marked 'Press' and another marked 'President' before his aid nodded, leaving him just with a large cigarette that he eagerly lit up.
Exhaling on the good tobacco product, he grinned from ear to ear.
"Politics is the continuation of war via other means, bullshit. Politics is war." He spoke outload, staring wistfully at the little portrait of Warren G. Harding that was on his desk, patting the glass behind the photo.

Dear Mr. President.

As a matter of principle, I do not apologize for childish nicknames or whatever specials monikers I attach to your presidential policies or agenda that I disagree with. I disagree with you on Alaska, and think you made the wrong call granting statehood to a sparsely populated area that will just end up diluting the power of the southern congressional delegations following potential redistricting and reappointment once the results of the 1960 Census has been undertaken.

I thank you for your understanding of my full support agaisnt the communists in the space race. I urge you to use every single tool at your disposal to beat back the communist bastards where-ever they might end up at.

Between you and me, I can joke a hair about wanting us to add some warm state, so if we end up victorious on this Vietnam thing, I wouldn't mind vacationing in the potential state of Vietnam. Hell, I might even be able to work on my tan!

Past that, I must express my profound disgust at my lapse of judgement. If I was to clobber the shit out of you, I'd lose my job as a senator. That remark was totally and absolutely uncalled for. It's just that when I call someone out for something, they're going to hear it come hell or high water. I don't care if it's a beggar in the street or the president! It's also a matter of state pride. I love Mississippi. It's my second wife. The only way I could get a divorce from her would be in '60 if I choose not to run.

I have not made up my mind fully at the moment, so you might want to start packing just in case I change my mind. Unfortunately, I cannot stand idly by while you threaten the greatest peculiar institutions since slavery. Segregation works in the south, it keeps both races separate and equal, like what plessy v. ferguson said. We keep the coloreds in one side of the street and the rest of us good white folk on the other side of the street. Sure there might be some broken glass and the drinking fountains may not work properly sometimes, but that just comes with the increased infrastructure costs from segregation.

Post Script: I'm only kidding about running for President, I enjoy the Senate, I'd rather not have your load on your shoulders. For all I say and do I can at least respect you as a president, even if I vicously berate your political decisons from time to time. You're my commander-in-chief, and I'm rooting for you privately, even if I call you a skunk faced shit-head in the press occasionally.

Sincerely,
([url=https://fontmeme.com/permalink/210221/ed9514fcb4dd76f0541598d48f8b52a5.png]Image)[/url]

The President received the letter, laughed, and simply threw it away. "Crazy old man."

[Flowerdell]

---

Senator-Elect William Lawrence Oswald Jr.

The Home of Abraham and Abigail Walker
January 1st, 1959

Willie sat in his leather seat, his own personal slice of comfort. The cigar smoke drifted towards him from his step-fathers direction. Disgusting things, he had always hated smoking in all forms. Bad for the lungs, he always held. Yet, all men had their vices, for him it was the glass of whiskey in his hand that swirled with ice. He would need it. The President was about to give his address.

As the television set flickered to life he could already feel the numbing effect of the alcohol. The voice piercing into his very soul as it jumped from the screen. Each word that came was one that Willie dreaded. Some were admirable, he fully agreed with him on issues to do with space and race but that wasn’t where his disagreement with this President came from. And with each sentence the idea of war came into sight.

Vietnam. Escalation. Home by summer.

A lie.

Whoever wrote his speech must have fought in the Great War. The people love a good “Home by Christmas” story to lull them to sleep at night.

All pure bullshit.

More men into the meat grinder of war, and for what? American interests in fucking south east Asia? How many thousands was that worth?

Men in positions of power had forgotten war. True war. They might talk about it like they understand it, but they didn’t. When these men fought cavalry was still of use. When these men led they did so from fifty miles behind the front.

How far away was the White House from Saigon, again?

The alcohol was growing bitter. He couldn’t swallow it.

Every aching moment he wished he could respond, live, right next to the man. He wasn’t even inaugurated yet and he felt unaccomplished. Small. One of a hundred. Not one of one. Part of him wished he was. The speech he would be giving would certainly be a different one. One of hope, not the welcome to the New Year that took the form of death.

Sitting up from his chair, he nodded towards his parents, making his way outside before the thing was even done. Standing by the doorway, the light on his face as he took easier sips than the ones that came before. It wasn’t long before his mother took her place beside him, hand resting on his shoulder.

“I know that face, Willie. I’ve lived long enough to know mens faces. It was a good speech. Just with things we don’t agree with. Don’t start beating yourself up. Make the change you want, Willie. That’s why you’re in this line of work, right? Always up to something.”

Her hand patted as she spoke.

“Washington might be more dangerous than the war. Willie...just take your time, yeah? Things sometimes fall into place. They don’t always need a push.”

A simple nod came as his response, his glass empty.

“Thank ya, ma. I will see you at some point next week? Does Sunday sound good?”

“Always.”

Placing his glass in the doorway, kissing his mother on the cheek, he made his way to his corvette. Taking a seat with a sigh, making sure he looked presentable in the mirror.

It was gonna be a long night.

[Sao Nova Europa]

Jonathan Jackson stood before a number of journalists. General Jackson - the man who had led the Allies to victory in the Pacific in WWII and had commanded the UN forces in Korea - giving a press conference was bound to attract journalists from all reputable papers. The man was widely considered a national hero. "Thank you for comi- coming here," Jonathan said, quickly correcting himself from making an error; he had to show himself at his best. Despite his old age, he was still imposing, his presence looming large. "I called you in this conference to announce my candidacy for President of the United States. I will be seeking the nomination of the Republican Party for that highest of offices."

There was wild chatter amongst the journalists at this announcement. "Please," Jonathan pleaded them to be silent. "I respect President Henry Davis. He has done a good job as President and has made us all proud, regardless of what disagreements we may have on some issues. Just like our current President, I will be seeking to offer my experience and knowledge in the service of the country. I want us to grow our economy, win the war in Vietnam and defend the free world from Communism."

"As candidate, I will pursue reforms that will benefit the average American. As leader of the Allied Occupation of Japan, I reformed a broken and defeated nation to the democratic and modern country we see today; this is a model I want to follow. With America being already a great country, my task shall be easier, though still arduous. I plan to pursue an agenda of reducing the top federal income tax rate from..." Jonathan took out a paper from his pocket and looked at it, "91 percent to 70 percent, the corporate tax from 52 percent to 48 percent and create a minimum standard deduction. I also plan on pushing back at some regulations that have ramped up the cost of doing business and on cutting excess spending in government departments - we need clean government that does not waste the hard-earned money of the American people. We also need a healthcare plan that covers our elderly but does not represent massive new financial commitments. I believe we should be offering health insurance to the elderly that they can choose to purchase, instead of it being mandatory as proposed by some on the left. It's a good compromise, I believe."

"But perhaps the most important issue at task is the Communist menace. The Soviets want domination of the free world. They are expanding their reach in Asia, Africa and even in our hemisphere. We cannot allow their influence to grow, lest our grandchildren find themselves subjugated under the Soviet yoke. Our President has been tough on the Soviets, and I want to be even tougher. As Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces in the Pacific, I defeated the Japanese Empire. As President, I will defeat the Vietnamese communists. I will take the fight to the north, by sending American and allied troops to put an end to the communist regime and reuniting Vietnam under a single, democratic government. Communist China will have to respect our wish or face our wrath. I also plan on expanding economic and military to our European, Asian and African allies. At the same time, though, I shall require them to take measures against corruption and to follow pro-growth policies. America will stand by its allies, but they must also stand by us. With this grand plan, the Block of Freedom shall surpass economically and militarily the Communist Empire."

"We need to fight against socialism at home and against communism abroad. We need to benefit the average American working man but we also need to defend the liberties of the nations of the free world. We need to put an end to Soviet imperialism and show that America can neither be ignored nor dismissed. But most of all, as President, I will seek to unite the nation. We cannon allow cultural and racial issues to divide us. We need to stand together, for only united can we stand against the Sof- Soviet menace!"

Jonathan was relieved he had finished his speech. He had only twice misspoke, a good thing for someone who could from time to time lose concentration. The general couldn't be happier with his performance.

---

The Associated Press

Politics

---

---

GENERAL ANNOUNCES CANDIDACY
MOVE COMES AFTER LONG DAYS AND NIGHTS OF SPECULATION

---

By Wallace Smithson
January 2, 1959
D.C.- General Jonathan Jackson, former Supreme Commander of Allied Forces in the Southwest Pacific Area and Commander-in-Chief of the United Nation Command in Korea, announced he would be seeking the Republican nomination for the office of President of the United States. The 76-years old general surprised some by his announcement, though there had been speculation about it in the past few weeks.

In his press conference, he stated that he would bring his wartime experience and his experience as leader of occupied Japan in the office. He announced that he would cut the top federal income tax from the current 91 percent to 70 percent, the corporate tax from 52 percent to 48 percent and create a minimum standard deduction. He also promised to cut regulations and "excess spending" in order to lower the cost of doing business and respect the taxpayers' money. The General spoke of his healthcare plan, which would see health insurance being offered to the elderly, but stating it wouldn't be mandatory; instead the elderly would choose to purchase.

The General spoke greatly about the "communist menace" and pledged to be tough on the Communist block. On the issue of Vietnam, he stated that "I will take the fight to the north, by sending American and allied troops to put an end to the communist regime and reuniting Vietnam under a single, democratic government. Communist China will have to respect our wish or face our wrath." He also pledged to provide greater monetary and military assistance to allied governments in Europe, Africa and Asia, but in return those countries would have to take measures against corruption and adopt "pro-growth policies". Anti-communism seems to be the major issue of the general's candidacy.

The General did not speak about the civil rights issue, instead pledging to defend the unity of the nation. "I will seek to unite the nation. We cannon allow cultural and racial issues to divide us. We need to stand together, for only united can we stand against the Soviet menace!". General Jonathan Jackson is the first Republican to announce his candidacy for the presidency. More are expected to follow.

[Jovuistan]

"Jackson?" Stark was surprised. "I would've figured he had gotten too old for that. Well, he's certainly a formidable general, but you're right in that he's too conservative to be controlling the direction of the party. You know which side I'm on when it comes to southern disputes. Blacks are going to be an essential voting block in the future in my view. I'll do everything in my power to make sure they're in our corner, and of course, it's just the right thing to do. I never understood the idea that Blacks are somehow inhuman, honestly."

"I fought with them." Davis said, "In the War. I fought with them, I led them, and they are honestly just like you or me. Nothing wrong with them," Davis said as he puffed out a huge ball of smoke, "Nothing at all. Good people, great people. Look at their music for God's sakes, Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald. They all beat that crap that Presley son of a gun is trying to sing." Davis attempts to dance by shaking and wobbling his elbows, only failing in the end, but laughs it off, "I mean really, I think we should stick with the likes of Buddy Holly, pure, American, clean, boys. Not some beatnik Hippies, wearing motorcycle jackets, doing the boogaloo in a prison."

"I am an Armstrong fan, myself. I haven't been able to comprehend the popularity of Elvis Presley myself... But anyways, do we have a set agenda for Congress this year? I'm eager to get back to work."

[Louisianan]

"I fought with them." Davis said, "In the War. I fought with them, I led them, and they are honestly just like you or me. Nothing wrong with them," Davis said as he puffed out a huge ball of smoke, "Nothing at all. Good people, great people. Look at their music for God's sakes, Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald. They all beat that crap that Presley son of a gun is trying to sing." Davis attempts to dance by shaking and wobbling his elbows, only failing in the end, but laughs it off, "I mean really, I think we should stick with the likes of Buddy Holly, pure, American, clean, boys. Not some beatnik Hippies, wearing motorcycle jackets, doing the boogaloo in a prison."

"I am an Armstrong fan, myself. I haven't been able to comprehend the popularity of Elvis Presley myself... But anyways, do we have a set agenda for Congress this year? I'm eager to get back to work."

"Well, I'd like to first start off with Alaska, get that out of the way, head on later this year, and try to get Hawaii done. I was just given confirmation that Cuba was taken by the army of Fidel Castro. I'd like to make sure that they know we're not going to tolerate the encroaching threat of communism in the Latin Americas. We're going to strengthen our embargo and such to let them know we're serious. I'd also like for the House and Senate to agree on the day of my State of the Union. I want it to be on the 26th of this month. Also, I think we're going to have to get some more civil rights work done. Another thing I'd really like to tackle is science, and education, it'd be nice to get some of that going on Capitol Hill. I doubt much of that will be possible with Congress completely out of Republican control, it'll be a battle but I think it'll get it done."

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

(Image)

Governor Fraser had only just moved into his new Albany residence, and his first major policy speech would be tomorrow. So it was in some ways fitting his first foray into the world of presidential primaries as a potential candidate for office would occur here.

He waited, patiently in his office fora Senator Stark. His staff was instructed to lead Stark to Fraser's office on his arrival.

Stark walked up the steps as he took in the scenery around him. He always loved New York. It was the perfect place to go just visit and relax whenever he got a break. He was considering perhaps even retiring there when he got too old to keep going. For now, he had a meeting to attend to.

He was guided by staff to the office of the Governor. He gave off a light smile as he entered.

"Governor Fraser! Nice to get to meet with you! How are you doing? Doing alright in your first days?"

"Senator Stark, pleasure to have you. I'm doing well, thank you. The challenges of being the executive of the largest state in the union, one split rather evenly between Democrat and Republican to boot, are many. But I rest assured on the double digit mandate I received from the people of New York that I'm up to the task and have the political capital to do it." Fraser began

"Now, to not waste words, regarding the topic of this meeting. This grand old party of ours spent 16 years in the political wilderness because we failed to be to progressive Republican party of Lincoln and Teddy that we ought to have been." Fraser emphasized.

"We have done good for the country under Davis these last few years, but I fear the machinations of the conservatives. Now I don't know if they'll rally around Jackson, the man's on the other side of his 70s, but I suspect it'll be some person or another. " Fraser continued.

"I don't have to tell you how concerning the prospect of a conservative nominee is, heaven forbid the dixecrats seize the democratic party's nomination. I fear faced with two conservatives the people would line up behind the party that brought them the new deal, particularly if dixecrats hang some poor liberal democrat from the vice position as bait." Fraser said, with measured concern.

"With that in mind, I believe that it's paramount that the liberal and moderate wing of the party is lined up behind a candidate even if said candidate doesn't immediately announce their intentions. Now I'm not going to play coy with you, Senator, I believe I'd befit to be that candidate. I recognize there are inherent difficulties in running for the presidency from the position of a governorship, but there are also unique opportunities, particularly as governor not the state our national media and financial sector is so heavily based." Fraser concluded, waiting on Stark's response.

[Louisianan]

A letter arrives on the desk of Newly Elected Senator Oswald,

Dearest Senator-Elect William Oswald Jr,

I've taken quite an interest in your campaign, and I think you'll be a rising star in the ways of the 'Old Southern Party' as I call the Democrats. I hope you work to reform the party, and take them into the 20th Century and out of the plantation. I trust that you will take your office seriously, and commit to working for the people of Massachusetts. Work hard, work well, you and I have different political views, but I trust that we both have the same goal, helping the American people.

Sincerely,