Chapter 2

Donald Moore, the twenty five year old son of Peter Moore, slipped back into the room set aside for the grieving family. He was shocked by who he had encountered in the men’s room.

“I ran into Dr. Bowlings in the men’s room.”

“Did you say Dr. Bowlings?” Rebecca asked.

“Yes I did, Mom.”

“You are talking about Dr. Ed Bowlings, right?” Patricia asked just to clarify the identity of the gentleman in question.

“Yes. I’d like to know what he’s doing here.”

Rebecca said, “His presence here is no mystery. He’s here for your father’s funeral.”

“At the risk of stating the obvious, he’s one of the most famous people in the country. Why would he be here?”

George said, “Dr. Bowlings was the Principal Investigator on the research grant that helped pay Pete’s way through school. That was before he won the Nobel Peace Prize.”

Donald said, “That was nearly thirty years ago. I’m surprised that an important man like him even remembers Dad.”

Patricia said, “I’m sure he’s watched Pete for years hoping that he’d rise to his full potential.”

Rebecca said, “Your father had many influential acquaintances. I’m not surprised Ed came. He and Peter met several times a year.”

It was the second week of September, but the third week of the semester. The first week of college had been a complete waste of time. It was freshman orientation for this or for that. It was in one of those blindingly boring meetings on ‘getting along’ that he learned he wasn’t a freshman, but a first year student. Apparently, the word freshman was offensive to some women.

There were lectures for first year students about how to live in a dorm. He was reminded of his first days in Kindergarten when the blond haired, blue eyed, bubble head had explained about how his little napping mat had his name on it and he was only to use that one. The sad thing was that most of the talks had been given in the same tone of voice as his Kindergarten teacher had used. He was insulted then, he was infuriated now.

This was not what he had hoped to find in a college setting. Of course, other students – he was half tempted to call them kids – were sitting on the edges of their seats nodding their heads like bobble headed dolls. They didn’t seem to feel like they were being treated like children.

At the moment, Peter was walking sedately across the campus towards the Hannah Arendt building for a job interview for the position of research assistant. He wasn’t in any great hurry, since he had plenty of time before his scheduled appointment. He would arrive early, although he knew that it wouldn’t be noticed.

He paused to look over at a freshman sprawled out on one of the benches drunk out of his mind. Looking at the idiot, he wondered if maybe the baby talk actually was necessary. That guy clearly couldn’t take care of himself; not if he was half toasted before three in the afternoon.

He reached the office and was immediately invited in. “Professor Bowlings?”

“Yes. What can I do for you?” the man asked not even bothering to look up form the page of the journal he was reading.

“I’m Peter Moore. I was told you needed a research assistant.”

“No, I don’t. I need an outstanding research assistant.”

Peter made a production of wiping sweat from his brow. “I’m glad to hear that. I was afraid that I was over qualified.”

“Have a seat.”

Professor Bowling managed to look up from his paper for the first time since the interview began. In fact, it was the first time he’d actually paid much attention to any of the candidates that student employment was sending to him. It was hard to tell if they were sending him the bottom of the barrel or if the quality of the current crop of students was truly that dismal.

He studied this ‘Peter Moore’ fellow much like one studies an unusual insect. He hoped the guy wasn’t trying to be funny. He reached over and picked up a small stack of papers. Without warning, he tossed it over to Peter who managed to catch it with ease.

Peter looked down at what had been tossed to him and chuckled. Of anything that he expected of this interview, this was absolutely the last thing he of which he could have dreamed.

“What’s so funny?”

“You took me completely by surprise. I’m not used to that.”

“You can leave now if getting handed a piece of paper is some kind of great surprise.”

“To tell the truth, I was expecting you to hand me a copy of your paper on campaign funding reform. I was fully prepared to discuss it with you.”

“I want to talk about the document I handed you,” Professor Bowlings said.

He wasn’t exactly impressed with Peter’s preparation, although it was a point in his favor. He had students who had read that paper and come to the interview cock sure that they understood it. Their comments about it demonstrated that they had no clue what it was about. Not one had ever spotted what he had come to recognize as an obvious the flaw in it. Despite the recognition and acclaim that it had brought him, he was extremely embarrassed by that paper now.

“Good. Your paper on campaign funding reform was so full of holes that I would have had a hard time discussing it without breaking into laughter. I hope that you didn’t really believe that it was possible to get people who rely upon funding from corporations to remain in office to vote against receiving funding from corporations. Really? The whole idea is ludicrous. The fact that you won a Heinz I. Eulau Award for it, is sad.”

Professor Bowlings didn’t suffer fools lightly. In fact, if the law had allowed it, he would have liked to bury them out by the midden where they belonged. It seemed that he was no longer the only one on campus who didn’t suffer fools lightly. For the first time in ages, a student had gotten his interest. Someone could have given the kid lessons in how to deliver constructive criticism without making people angry, but Professor Bowlings was impressed none the less.

“You’re not a ‘yes man,’ are you?”

“No.”

“We’ll discuss your attitude later. I want to talk about the document I just handed you.”

“This is definitely a subject that I take very seriously. This particular document has been one of my favorite reads for years.”

“You are familiar with it?”

“Very.”

“I want you to tell me which part of it you think is going to be the most important provision in shaping the future.”

Barely looking down at the paper, Peter started flipping through it until he located the section that he wanted. Reading aloud, he said, “Each State shall appoint, in such Manner as the Legislature thereof may direct, a Number of Electors, equal to the whole Number of Senators and Representatives to which the State may be entitled in the Congress: but no Senator or Representative, or Person holding an Office of Trust or Profit under the United States, shall be appointed an Elector.”

“The Electors shall meet in their respective States, and vote by Ballot for two Persons, of whom one, at least, shall not be an Inhabitant of the same State with themselves. And they shall make a List of all the Persons voted for, and of the Number of Votes for each; which List they shall sign and certify, and transmit sealed to the Seat of the Government of the United States, directed to the President of the Senate.

“Even if the ideas in this document were stupid, which they aren’t, it would be a masterpiece of writing just because of the language used within it. No one writes like that anymore. I imagine that my English composition teacher would demand that the language be simplified so it could be understood by more people. Pity.”

Professor Bowlings sat up straighter and set the paper he had been reading off to the side. So far, students usually picked the first or second amendment and backed their choice with insipid arguments that even a first grader wouldn’t buy. In some cases, they had actually incorrectly quoted the text from memory – which didn’t impress him at all. This kid didn’t even take a second to locate the passage he wanted to read.

“Why did you pick that one?”

“The process by which the leadership of this country is elected is broken. If the partisanship that has plagued recent elections is to be eliminated, then it is Article 2 Section 1 of the Constitution which will enable it to happen. Within it lies an answer to all of that partisan bickering and corruption, which could change the face of voting for a President.”

Professor Bowlings was definitely impressed. While a lot of students complained about the electoral college and how unfair it was, not one had ever pointed out that the actual source of their complaint might not be in the constitution, but in the implementation of the provisions within the constitution. The student couldn’t have gotten more of his attention if he’d hit him with a two by four.

“Interesting. You say that within it lies an answer. Just exactly what kind of answer are you suggesting?”

“I think the key is the statement, ‘Each State shall appoint, in such Manner as the Legislature thereof may direct, a Number of Electors... ‘ That’s all it says about how a President is to be selected from the perspective of the average person. It says nothing about Republicans and Democrats. There’s nothing about primary races that last for nine months, PAC funding, the press deciding who is actually a candidate or not, and debates orchestrated by collusion between political parties and news services.

“‘In such Manner as the Legislature thereof may direct’ is such an intriguing clause. It suggests to me that the entire electoral process that is followed today can be changed, easily. Nothing is constitutionally set in concrete right up to the point where a state makes the final selection of electors. That’s never mentioned in civics classes. No one ever says that if you don’t want an all or nothing electoral vote for a candidate by your state, then all you have to do is change a couple of state laws. It doesn’t require a constitutional amendment.”

Professor Bowlings smiled and said, “Such radical thinking for one so young. So you propose that the state laws change so that electoral votes are partitioned according to popular vote rather than winner take all.”

Peter smiled broadly. He now had the man’s full attention. It was time to set the hook. He replied, “It says nothing of one person – one vote. That’s another constitutional election rule myth.”

“You’d take the vote away from the public?” Professor Bowlings asked astounded by anyone even making such a suggestion.

“The constitution specifies, ‘ ... a Number of Electors, equal to the whole Number of Senators and Representatives to which the State may be entitled in the Congress... ‘ I’d say that, according to the constitution, we’re voting for electors, not candidates. I would say that voters be given a number of votes equal to the whole number of Senators and Representatives to which the state is entitled.”

Professor Bowlings mind raced while he considered all of the consequences of such a change. He felt like he had been hit with a bolt of pure energy. His stood up and paced excitedly around the room. So many ideas were flitting through his brain that he couldn’t focus on one over another. He said, “The implications of that are...”

“Yes, I know. I’ve given the matter a lot of thought.

“I particularly like the idea of voting for electors who represent a single stance on some key issue that is aligned with a candidate on that issue. Your votes could end up being split across two, three, or even four candidates. I think that is a good thing. You are actually sending all candidates a message about your position politically rather than having to accept whatever positions the candidates might present in a campaign. Let’s be honest, the political positions taken by candidates are like the weather – changing every day.

“The way I figure it, we’re not being represented in the current system. It is impossible. We have to vote up or down on one of a handful of candidates presented to us who have positions on some issues which we have to accept because there’s no choice. We can’t even voice our disapproval on specific issues embraced by any of the candidates.

“Every election people complain that they are voting for the lesser of two evils. You have a candidate who is pro-choice and peace at any price versus a candidate who is right to life and strong defense. Who are you supposed to vote for if you are pro-choice and strong defense? Is there a choice that represents the lesser of two evils? I think not. You’re voting your beliefs and voting against your beliefs regardless of who you vote for.

“When was the last time you heard someone say that they voted their conscience?”

Returning to his chair, Professor Bowlings said, “In the last election, I detested both of the major candidates and had no respect for the alternatives, who in my opinion were totally clueless about what was necessary to run a country. Voting for one of the two leading candidates sent the wrong message. Voting for a candidate outside the parties was wasting a vote. Not voting sent no message. Like you said, I felt that there wasn’t a lesser of two evils.

“That’s when I started looking for some way to fix the system. Like everyone else, I was locked into the mindset that the problem was the two party system. It never occurred to me to use the electoral college as a means of changing the system at a fundamental level. You have definitely given me an alternative I had never considered.”

Peter said, “Politicians know how to game the system. If an election has 75% of the people voting pro-choice and 75% voting strong defense, then you know that the next election cycle will consist only of candidates who are pro-choice and strong defense. It doesn’t matter if the candidate is running for the Senate or the House of Representatives. They’ll figure out what way people are voting and shift their positions. They’re whores.

“It’s been years since we’ve had a politician of integrity who has managed to hold on to their core values throughout their political career.”

Clapping his hands and then shaking two fists, Professor Bowlings said, “You’re hired.”

“Not so fast.”

Shocked, Professor Bowlings stared at Peter. He asked, “You don’t want the job of being my research assistant?”

Peter said, “You are an academician. Supposedly, your career lives or dies based on publishing scholarly papers in well read journals. However, you are tenured and a full professor. You do not have to publish. You do not have to get ‘funding.’ You don’t have to sit on any committees. You do have to teach, but you don’t have to be a good teacher. The fact is, you can sit in your office behind a locked door and masturbate to porn all day long and still keep your job so long as you don’t invite students to serve as an audience.”

That last comment earned a short bark of laughter. He had sometimes joked that he’d have to take a wiz on the President’s desk to get fired and it would still take a decade to get him out the door.

“I know your first impulse is to start writing a paper. That’s exactly the wrong thing to do. Those who are in power will bury you the first chance they get. I don’t meant that in an academic or metaphorical way. I mean they will physically plant you in the nearest cemetery! The ideas you would be presenting attacks the power establishment in a manner which would leave them defenseless, particularly once the ideas are fully developed.

“You’re going to have to attack by going through the back door. You can’t talk about your work with anyone. Talking about it will be the same as committing suicide.

“You have to have the whole idea fully developed and bullet proof before anyone can hear of it. You have to have the concepts, procedures, and laws specified with each ‘t’ crossed and each ‘i’ dotted before you even think about publishing. You will have to conspire in secrecy with others of a like mind until you are ready to publish. This is not something that you can write and send out to be completed by others. It has to be a stand alone product that serves the single purpose of changing the system.

“It’s going to have to be the best document you’ve ever written in your entire life. It’s going to have to stand up there with the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, Washington’s Farewell Address, and Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. It can’t be long and technical. It has to be short, direct, and to the point. It has to excite rather than bore. It has to inspire rather than intimidate.

“Once you are done, you can’t release your ideas through accepted channels. They are watched and censored. The first Poly-Sci Political Party sycophant who reads it will squash it before it ever sees the light of day, and you will be squashed with it.

“You have to release it to the public at large, using social media in a manner that can only be described as a Blitzkrieg! It has to hit the entire country in a single day, across every possible delivery channel. You can’t give the power brokers a chance to react. There has to be no warning that a political tornado is headed their way.

“To be effective, the proper foundation has to be laid. You and your conspirators will have to do the groundwork, so that the people are ready for it. They have to feel a level of frustration, anger, and disgust at the current system, so that your solution strikes them as a means of focusing all of that energy. You have to take people who are on the verge of rioting on the streets in protest, and channel them into marching for specific changes. There will be violence, attempts to suppress the people, and an organized campaign to discredit the ideas.

“If you can’t live with that, I will walk away and wait until they kill you. Then, I will find someone who can and will do it the way I suggest. I will work with them until they develop the idea enough to bring in like minded people to help them complete it.”

Professor Bowlings initial reaction when Peter started laying out the constraints under which he would have to work was to tell the egotistical bastard where he could stuff his conditions. Enough of his mind paid attention so that he realized the true thrust of what Peter was saying. He wasn’t giving conditions just to dictate terms, but to protect their lives. Clearly, Peter have given this idea a whole lot of thought.

“You’ve been thinking about this for years, haven’t you?”

“Yes. To be quite honest, I was very surprised that I had the opportunity to explain my ideas this soon after meeting you. I had expected it to take a full semester to slowly lead you to the idea.”

“I can abide by your conditions. I think you have my survival at heart.”

“Our survival,” Peter said.

“Yes. Our survival.”

“I’m going to enjoy working with you. I can’t wait to see what direction you take this idea.”

“I can’t wait to see how you handle yourself in one of my classes.”

“Sorry, I won’t be in any of your classes. I’m majoring in Business, with a minor in Psychology and a minor in Sociology.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“No. I have very definite plans for the future.”

Having finished processing the paperwork for his new job as research assistant for Professor Bowlings, Peter made his way to his least favorite class on campus. It was a one credit course that every freshman ... oops he was supposed to call them first year students... had to take. It had the informative name of First Year Seminar which was such a weighty and scholarly name for a total waste of three hours every week.

By definition, a seminar is a class in which a topic is discussed by a teacher and a small group of students. What was there to discuss about being a Freshman? Once again, he had to remind himself that he was a First Year, and not a Freshman. Heaven forbid that he think of himself using a term that had been in use since 1590. It was hard to believe that they had been using the wrong word for so many years.

He made his way to his ‘assigned’ seat chafing at the idea of being told where to sit in a classroom capable of holding twice as many students were enrolled in the class. Assigning seats made sense when there were a lot of students in the class. However, this ‘seminar’ was supposed to provide an intense interaction between professor and student with the intent of inspiring him to study hard, and get good grades. The result was that there were only twenty people in the class.

He sat down and, although unnecessary because he had it memorized, he pulled out the syllabus and a pad of note paper from his backpack. His eyes fell upon the subject that was to be covered this and the next two weeks – Using Library Resources. He exhaled loudly wondering if this could actually be a college level course. How could anyone spend nine hours talking about using a website to look up things in the library? The sad thing was that the online search companies had better query mechanisms than the library.

He parked his elbows on the table. With palms together, fingers extended and touching fingertip to fingertip with its opposite digit, and his chin resting on his index fingers, he stared off into space wondering if he should just give up here and submit his acceptance to University of Pennsylvania, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, or University of California – Berkeley. He would have gone to any one of them except for the presence of Professor Bowlings here. He figured they might have a first year seminar class, but expected that it would be a bit more substantive than this one.

He wasn’t paying attention when the instructor called out, “Petey Moore ... Petey Moore ... Would you join us in the real world Petey Moore?”

She marched up to his desk and stood in front of him. Leaning over, she said, “When I call on you, you’re supposed to say ‘here.’ Otherwise I’ll have to mark you absent.”

“I’m not Petey Moore,” Peter said evenly.

He had a good view right down her blouse. This was not the first time she had given him a free look at her breasts. He normally got four or five good long looks at them during a single class. None of the other males in the class got that kind of attention from her. At least she had one redeeming value, they were nice looking tits. He knew what she was doing, and why she was doing it. He fought down his disgust to keep from showing her how he really felt about her.

“Then you shouldn’t be sitting in his chair.”

“This was the seat assigned me.”

“That means you are Petey Moore.”

“I told you my name is not Petey Moore on the first day of class. I’ve told you that, every class. My name is Peter Moore.”

“In this class, your name is Petey Moore.”

She reached out and ran a finger along his cheek.

The expression on Peter’s face went flat and void of any emotion. His eyelids drooped giving him a slightly sleepy appearance. His breathing went shallow. He slowly lifted his eyes to where he was staring her straight in her eye. It was time to make his move.

“I find your condescension to be extremely rude and denigrating. I find your continued use of Petey to be an insult. My name is Peter Moore.”