The Store

This can't be constitutional," he said. "This is America, damn it. We still have freedom of speech here.

Everyone today is so fragmented. This isn’t a country anymore. It’s a collection of tribes, all competing with each other for jobs, money, media attention. When I was young, we were all Americans. Back then, we did what we had to, or what we could, to make this a better nation. We did what was right, what was moral.

Human beings' capacity to adjust to almost anything was supposed to be one of their greatest virtues, but it was also one of their greatest weaknesses. It rendered them compliant, allowed them to be exploited.

He was dropped off directly in front of the Black Tower.

Newman King was a fictional figurehead, a made-up character.

and the last shot of the report was of King getting into a chauffeur-driven limousine in front of the black tower.

He stared out the window and found himself thinking of that old Randy Newman song, "It's Money That Matters." It was money that mattered, wasn't it? He shook his head. Times had changed. Twenty years ago-a decade ago, even-a rich man spending millions of dollars to get himself elected to public office would have been looked upon with suspicion and distrust. But in 1992, the town had voted overwhelmingly for Ross Perot, either buying completely into his "common man" persona and believing that the billionaire was more like them than were either of his two opponents, or else respecting and admiring his enormous wealth