#PassageHome Chapter 3: Keys to the Kingdom (AUDIO) via #SoundCloud

Charlottesville, Virginia.

8:00pm

Franklin and Jillian are watching the news together.  They are a young African American couple in their mid-30s.  Their 8 year old son is laying on the love seat under a throw blanket, asleep.

Jenny Cox, the newscaster, continues...

   "We are now going to send it to Maxwell Dodson and Gibson Jordan in Washington, D.C., at the White House.  Let's check in with Maxwell first, who's standing outside the White House.  Maxwell, tell us about the activity out there where you are."
     "Well, Jenny, scene out here depicts a great many reactions. There are some supporters of the restoration act, but are just as many if not more protesters.  And it should come as no surprise that most of the protesters are Hispanic.  As we've seen in all of the protest to this act in the last year, the Latino community is concerned that this new act will prevent immigrants from coming to this country. The new "points" system replacing our currency will force everyone to prove citizenship and there are many people who will not be able to do that."

Jenny, trying to speak over the protest in the background, ask Maxwell,
     "How, exactly, will this new point system prevent immigration?"
Maxwell replies,
     "Every American citizen with a legit social security number will be issued a new federally issued account number. This number will replace your social security number."
     "REPLACE my social security number?"
     "Yes, the social security number...and program...are being integrated into this new system. During the first stage of the new system, no new federally issued account numbers will be issued to anyone not a current citizen. This account number will have your total points earned and spent at all times. We are told that all the details of the new point system will be disclosed at the press conference set to take place momentarily so we're going to hold off on speculating any further details. Essentially,the new points system, to be introduced publicly within the next hour, will prohibit anyone who is not an US citizen from purchasing goods or pay expenses. The protests will continue well into the night and for many days hereafter, I'm sure."

Franklin and Jillian are watching, stunned.  Jillian looks at Franklin, unsure of what to make of this news,
     "Frank, they just sealed the borders.  These people have just rewritten the US Constitution."
     "And made a liar of the Statue of Liberty."
They continue watching the news.
     "This is Gibson Jordan, reporting from the White House Press room.  The president will be joining us shortly and explaining the new currency system and make clear all our questions.  In a rare sharing of the executive podium, a representative of the USA Corporation will help the president explain how the new system will work.  We understand the representative is Jamison Dracel, Vice President of Public Relations for the company, and he will help explain the new currency of the United States and the means by which it will be administered to the public.  We're not certain how Mr. Dracel or the USA Corp fits into all of this, but we will soon.  Again, the president is just moments away from addressing us all."

Franklin and Jillian are stunned, mouth agape.  Jillian looks at Franklin,
     "Well...there's your brother.  I guess your family hasn't heard from him because...well...he's been busy."
     "Yeah...I should say so. Jamie, what are you doing?"

#CITIZEN of #Earth, #CREATOR of Artsy Sh!t, #LOVE of #MyWife, and a #WORK in Progress https://t.co/nDAUi8YjJI
— Terésa Dowell-Vest (@TeresaDowelVest) March 8, 2015

Chapter 3: Keys to the Kingdom (AUDIO) via #SoundCloud

Charlottesville, Virginia.

8:00pm

Franklin and Jillian are watching the news together.  They are a young African American couple in their mid-30s.  Their 8 year old son is laying on the love seat under a throw blanket, asleep.

Jenny Cox, the newscaster, continues...

   "We are now going to send it to Maxwell Dodson and Gibson Jordan in Washington, D.C., at the White House.  Let's check in with Maxwell first, who's standing outside the White House.  Maxwell, tell us about the activity out there where you are."
     "Well, Jenny, scene out here depicts a great many reactions. There are some supporters of the restoration act, but are just as many if not more protesters.  And it should come as no surprise that most of the protesters are Hispanic.  As we've seen in all of the protest to this act in the last year, the Latino community is concerned that this new act will prevent immigrants from coming to this country. The new "points" system replacing our currency will force everyone to prove citizenship and there are many people who will not be able to do that."

Jenny, trying to speak over the protest in the background, ask Maxwell,
     "How, exactly, will this new point system prevent immigration?"
Maxwell replies,
     "Every American citizen with a legit social security number will be issued a new federally issued account number. This number will replace your social security number."
     "REPLACE my social security number?"
     "Yes, the social security number...and program...are being integrated into this new system. During the first stage of the new system, no new federally issued account numbers will be issued to anyone not a current citizen. This account number will have your total points earned and spent at all times. We are told that all the details of the new point system will be disclosed at the press conference set to take place momentarily so we're going to hold off on speculating any further details. Essentially,the new points system, to be introduced publicly within the next hour, will prohibit anyone who is not an US citizen from purchasing goods or pay expenses. The protests will continue well into the night and for many days hereafter, I'm sure."

Franklin and Jillian are watching, stunned.  Jillian looks at Franklin, unsure of what to make of this news,
     "Frank, they just sealed the borders.  These people have just rewritten the US Constitution."
     "And made a liar of the Statue of Liberty."
They continue watching the news.
     "This is Gibson Jordan, reporting from the White House Press room.  The president will be joining us shortly and explaining the new currency system and make clear all our questions.  In a rare sharing of the executive podium, a representative of the USA Corporation will help the president explain how the new system will work.  We understand the representative is Jamison Dracel, Vice President of Public Relations for the company, and he will help explain the new currency of the United States and the means by which it will be administered to the public.  We're not certain how Mr. Dracel or the USA Corp fits into all of this, but we will soon.  Again, the president is just moments away from addressing us all."

Franklin and Jillian are stunned, mouth agape.  Jillian looks at Franklin,
     "Well...there's your brother.  I guess your family hasn't heard from him because...well...he's been busy."
     "Yeah...I should say so. Jamie, what are you doing?"

#PassageHome Chapter 2: Exploiting Jesus For Profit...Again (AUDIO) via #SoundCloud

Norfolk, Virginia.
7:50pm

  "Craig.  Craig!  Come here, Craig!!"

Lester is yelling from the living room to the kitchen.  He is watching the television from his favorite arm chair, well worn and sunken from years of retirement.  Lester, is a 70 year old retire dock worker with more time on his hands than he cares to have.  He is sitting entirely too close to the television.  Craig, his 30 year old son comes running out of the kitchen, responding to the urgent call of his father.
 
    "Pop!  You ok! What is it?!"
    "NO!  No, I'm not ok!!"
    "Well, what is it?!"
    "They makin' another Jesus movie!"

Craig is annoyed that he was alarmed by such a trivial matter.  Lester, however, does not take lightly every act of man.
 
 "That's what you got me all panicked about?!  I thought you were having another heart attack.  Man, instead, you're in here giving ME a heart attack!  And why are you sitting so close to the television, man? You know, I told you about that before. Heart failure, bad eyes, high blood pressure, and..."
    "But you're not listenin' to me, son.  Them Hollywood people think they can just take ANYBODY'S life and make a million dollars off it! Jesus deserves a royalty check after all that!  Don't you think?! How many Jesus movies you think out there?! Most famous man in history and people just use him up...Bill Withers level use him up. And all to make a dollar."

     "Well, that's about to change. No more dollars to be made. Credit...points.  My life just became a video game. My hard work for some lousy points on a card."

A silence fall between the two men.  Craig looks at the tv but not really focusing on it,  
     "How did we get here?"
     "Jesus got tired of being misrepresented."

Craig smiles slightly.
     "Is that so, Pop?"
     "Yeah!  Wouldn't you get tired too if someone keep trying to profit off your misery?"
     "They do. It's called work. The USA Corp is building all these new ships down at the docks. Big, luxury cruise line type ships...a lot of them. Looks like a lot of people going on trip.
     "Speaking of trips, did you check the mail?  Did Mags get any new postcards today?"
     "Why are people still sending those things? Mom's been gone for five years now. People are sending these things more than ever now."
     "They send them because they love her. And I keep them for her for the same reason."
     "Why didn't you just take her to get her own postcards?"
     "Why don't you just check the damn mail?"
     "Pop, I didn't mean..."
     "Look, you don't think I wanted to take your mother everywhere she wanted to go? You think I liked seeing other people send her cards from all over the world...showing her places I couldn't take her?! I hated those postcards all over the wall.  I use to stand right there, looking at them for hours after she'd go to bed, resenting every last one of them and the person who sent them."
      "So, why didn't you take them down?"
        "And take away your mother's joy?  She would sit there and write letters, thank you cards...stories in her notebook...a story for every postcard. She'd create her own adventures.  She told stories of the places she would and the food she would eat there.  She amazed me.  How could she know the scents, the flavors, the colors?  One night I told her to take the postcards down.  I was tired of being taunted by them and I told her to take down her wall.  She told me it broke her heart that I only saw a wall of postcards.  She read one of her stories to me."
Les gets up out of his chair and crosses to the wall.  He gently pulls a tack out of the wall.  The tack has a daisy shaped shirt button glued to it.
     "Mag hated sticking tacks into her precious cards. Tape would destroy the corners...pull the paper off. She found a bunch of old buttons and glued them onto the tack to make them look like decorative art themselves."
Les took the postcard carefully in his worn, slightly trembling hands.
     "This card was the one that saved me...saved me from destroying my love. She took me to Ghana.  Told me of a home village of kings and queens...princes and princesses. The food sweet, rich, plentiful...to be eaten delicately at our fingertips...savored.  Warm winds wafting the sweet sand and salt waters to our huts. Yes, ours, for we were there.  Your mother took us there. She welcomed me along to a new adventure every Sunday evening.  It got so I couldn't wait until Sunday.  By Wednesday I was asking for a new story...a new voyage with my partner.  She was my atlas...my guide...my ship. The Sweet Magnolia.  Now...go check the mail, son."
     "Ok, Pop."

Craig heads to the front door.  The last of the commercials conclude and the news resumes.  Lester scoots closer. Just as the newscaster begins, Craig walks back into the house with no mail in his hands.
     "Resources have just confirmed that the President has just signed the United States Economy Restoration Act.  The dollar bills currently in your pocket are, at this very moment, has no value.

The two men are completely fixed onto the television.
     "Any mail?"
     "No."
     "Well, would you look at that?  The Imperial King has no money."
Les looks at Craig,
     "So now how much am I worth?  And Jesus certainly ain't gettin' a royalty check.
The newscaster continues...  

#CITIZEN of #Earth, #CREATOR of Artsy Sh!t, #LOVE of #MyWife, and a #WORK in Progress https://t.co/nDAUi8YjJI
— Terésa Dowell-Vest (@TeresaDowelVest) March 8, 2015

Chapter 2: Exploiting Jesus for Profit...Again (AUDIO) via #Soundcloud

Norfolk, Virginia.
7:50pm

  "Craig.  Craig!  Come here, Craig!!"

Lester is yelling from the living room to the kitchen.  He is watching the television from his favorite arm chair, well worn and sunken from years of retirement.  Lester, is a 70 year old retire dock worker with more time on his hands than he cares to have.  He is sitting entirely too close to the television.  Craig, his 30 year old son comes running out of the kitchen, responding to the urgent call of his father.
 
    "Pop!  You ok! What is it?!"
    "NO!  No, I'm not ok!!"
    "Well, what is it?!"
    "They makin' another Jesus movie!"

Craig is annoyed that he was alarmed by such a trivial matter.  Lester, however, does not take lightly every act of man.
 
 "That's what you got me all panicked about?!  I thought you were having another heart attack.  Man, instead, you're in here giving ME a heart attack!  And why are you sitting so close to the television, man? You know, I told you about that before. Heart failure, bad eyes, high blood pressure, and..."
    "But you're not listenin' to me, son.  Them Hollywood people think they can just take ANYBODY'S life and make a million dollars off it! Jesus deserves a royalty check after all that!  Don't you think?! How many Jesus movies you think out there?! Most famous man in history and people just use him up...Bill Withers level use him up. And all to make a dollar."

     "Well, that's about to change. No more dollars to be made. Credit...points.  My life just became a video game. My hard work for some lousy points on a card."

A silence fall between the two men.  Craig looks at the tv but not really focusing on it,  
     "How did we get here?"
     "Jesus got tired of being misrepresented."

Craig smiles slightly.
     "Is that so, Pop?"
     "Yeah!  Wouldn't you get tired too if someone keep trying to profit off your misery?"
     "They do. It's called work. The USA Corp is building all these new ships down at the docks. Big, luxury cruise line type ships...a lot of them. Looks like a lot of people going on trip.
     "Speaking of trips, did you check the mail?  Did Mags get any new postcards today?"
     "Why are people still sending those things? Mom's been gone for five years now. People are sending these things more than ever now."
     "They send them because they love her. And I keep them for her for the same reason."
     "Why didn't you just take her to get her own postcards?"
     "Why don't you just check the damn mail?"
     "Pop, I didn't mean..."
     "Look, you don't think I wanted to take your mother everywhere she wanted to go? You think I liked seeing other people send her cards from all over the world...showing her places I couldn't take her?! I hated those postcards all over the wall.  I use to stand right there, looking at them for hours after she'd go to bed, resenting every last one of them and the person who sent them."
      "So, why didn't you take them down?"
        "And take away your mother's joy?  She would sit there and write letters, thank you cards...stories in her notebook...a story for every postcard. She'd create her own adventures.  She told stories of the places she would and the food she would eat there.  She amazed me.  How could she know the scents, the flavors, the colors?  One night I told her to take the postcards down.  I was tired of being taunted by them and I told her to take down her wall.  She told me it broke her heart that I only saw a wall of postcards.  She read one of her stories to me."
Les gets up out of his chair and crosses to the wall.  He gently pulls a tack out of the wall.  The tack has a daisy shaped shirt button glued to it.
     "Mag hated sticking tacks into her precious cards. Tape would destroy the corners...pull the paper off. She found a bunch of old buttons and glued them onto the tack to make them look like decorative art themselves."
Les took the postcard carefully in his worn, slightly trembling hands.
     "This card was the one that saved me...saved me from destroying my love. She took me to Ghana.  Told me of a home village of kings and queens...princes and princesses. The food sweet, rich, plentiful...to be eaten delicately at our fingertips...savored.  Warm winds wafting the sweet sand and salt waters to our huts. Yes, ours, for we were there.  Your mother took us there. She welcomed me along to a new adventure every Sunday evening.  It got so I couldn't wait until Sunday.  By Wednesday I was asking for a new story...a new voyage with my partner.  She was my atlas...my guide...my ship. The Sweet Magnolia.  Now...go check the mail, son."
     "Ok, Pop."

Craig heads to the front door.  The last of the commercials conclude and the news resumes.  Lester scoots closer. Just as the newscaster begins, Craig walks back into the house with no mail in his hands.
     "Resources have just confirmed that the President has just signed the United States Economy Restoration Act.  The dollar bills currently in your pocket are, at this very moment, has no value.

The two men are completely fixed onto the television.
     "Any mail?"
     "No."
     "Well, would you look at that?  The Imperial King has no money."
Les looks at Craig,
     "So now how much am I worth?  And Jesus certainly ain't gettin' a royalty check.
The newscaster continues...  

Seeing Bullsh*t, Calling Bullsh*t: An Open Letter to University of Virginia Chief of Police, Michael Gibson and the email sent to ALL of UVA RE: Women and Assault (PHOTOS)

#CITIZEN of #Earth, #CREATOR of Artsy Sh!t, #LOVE of #MyWife, and a #WORK in Progress https://t.co/nDAUi8YjJI
— Terésa Dowell-Vest (@TeresaDowelVest) March 8, 2015

#PassageHome Chapter 1: A Currency of No Value (AUDIO) via #Soundcloud

Washington, D.C.

Robert Johns is sitting at a long oval table, alone.  There is a group of men and women, all dressed in suits and military uniforms, standing...waiting.  There is a navy blue folder with an embossed seal on the cover and a black pen resting next to it.  Robert Johns, dressed in a dark blue well fitting suit, white shirt, blue tie, is sitting at the table studying the folder, running his fingertips over the seal.
    “Sir. You have to sign it.  The press corp is waiting.”
    “Unless, of course, you are reconsidering...”
    “We are well beyond that point...”
    “We are never beyond the well being of this country...”
    “Gentlemen!” Robert snaps, “I am certain.”

He opens the portfolio.
    “Changing America is not something you can just pick up a pen and do.  This pen...ink, plastic, metal...was just a pen this morning.  Now with its stroke, we are redefining...reinventing...restoring America.  This pen will be the greatest instrument of change.
     This morning, I bought a newspaper.  I took out a single dollar, a quarter, and a dime.  I held the currency in my hand, feeling the folded corner of the well worn single...the cool smoothness of the coins.  I walked up to the clerk and rather than place the money on the counter, as I always had, I placed the money in his hand.  This pen stroke will ensure that is the last time I do that.  The last time we look upon the eyes of George Washington on the bill which represents his place in our executive legacy.  This ordinary pen of ink, plastic, and metal is about to stroke an extraordinary mark in our lives and in our children's lives and all their children to come.  This is no ordinary pen...no ordinary moment.  This is the moment the penny becomes special, finally, and the dollar, kindling.  With this pen the fires will burn hot with our entire mint, with the stroke of this pen, rendered useless...of no value.  This is the moment we kill currency.  We watch the faces of former presidents and great statesmen curl when the flames kiss their portraits.  This moment is to behold, indeed."

The room is quiet and still.  All eyes on well composed and well dressed Robert.  Finally one of the other men in the room replies,
    “Yes sir, Mr. President."
Robert takes a breath and in a sudden movement, Robert Johns, the President of the United States, signs the papers in the portfolio with satisfied flair.  He takes his signature in and then carefully places the pen on the table beside the portfolio.  The clock reads 7:45pm.
    "Now...I'm ready to address America."

#CITIZEN of #Earth, #CREATOR of Artsy Sh!t, #LOVE of #MyWife, and a #WORK in Progress https://t.co/nDAUi8YjJI
— Terésa Dowell-Vest (@TeresaDowelVest) March 8, 2015

Chapter 1: A Currency of No Value (AUDIO) via #Soundcloud

Washington, D.C.

Robert Johns is sitting at a long oval table, alone.  There is a group of men and women, all dressed in suits and military uniforms, standing...waiting.  There is a navy blue folder with an embossed seal on the cover and a black pen resting next to it.  Robert Johns, dressed in a dark blue well fitting suit, white shirt, blue tie, is sitting at the table studying the folder, running his fingertips over the seal.
    “Sir. You have to sign it.  The press corp is waiting.”
    “Unless, of course, you are reconsidering...”
    “We are well beyond that point...”
    “We are never beyond the well being of this country...”
    “Gentlemen!” Robert snaps, “I am certain.”

He opens the portfolio.
    “Changing America is not something you can just pick up a pen and do.  This pen...ink, plastic, metal...was just a pen this morning.  Now with its stroke, we are redefining...reinventing...restoring America.  This pen will be the greatest instrument of change.
     This morning, I bought a newspaper.  I took out a single dollar, a quarter, and a dime.  I held the currency in my hand, feeling the folded corner of the well worn single...the cool smoothness of the coins.  I walked up to the clerk and rather than place the money on the counter, as I always had, I placed the money in his hand.  This pen stroke will ensure that is the last time I do that.  The last time we look upon the eyes of George Washington on the bill which represents his place in our executive legacy.  This ordinary pen of ink, plastic, and metal is about to stroke an extraordinary mark in our lives and in our children's lives and all their children to come.  This is no ordinary pen...no ordinary moment.  This is the moment the penny becomes special, finally, and the dollar, kindling.  With this pen the fires will burn hot with our entire mint, with the stroke of this pen, rendered useless...of no value.  This is the moment we kill currency.  We watch the faces of former presidents and great statesmen curl when the flames kiss their portraits.  This moment is to behold, indeed."

The room is quiet and still.  All eyes on well composed and well dressed Robert.  Finally one of the other men in the room replies,
    “Yes sir, Mr. President."
Robert takes a breath and in a sudden movement, Robert Johns, the President of the United States, signs the papers in the portfolio with satisfied flair.  He takes his signature in and then carefully places the pen on the table beside the portfolio.  The clock reads 7:45pm.
    "Now...I'm ready to address America."