by John Galt
February 8, 2015 15:20 ET
Several years ago when I was quite active broadcasting on shortwave and writing at a much more prolific pace than currently, someone asked me what my real name was and what my philosophy on life, economics, politics, and reality really was all about. The truth shall set you free so at the end of this article, I shall enlighten my readers with my real name yet not my address as I explain why I write under this pen name and what this website is truly all about.
As a child, I spent my life engaging in the typical American activities of football, hockey, soccer, camping as a Boy Scout, etc. After high school, I was offered a scholarship to play football, offensive tackle to be precise, at my favorite college, the University of Miami, but failed a physical as required. Just prior to the exam I injured my knees jumping down from a redwood tree in the Everglades. The story would be amusing if it were not for losing the scholarship, yet some good came of it later in life. I was camping with some friends when we heard some endangered Florida Panther kittens meowing loudly for help and I just could not stand to see those poor kittens trapped up there. What was amazing was as my friends and I were leaving the camping area to find a park ranger, we stumbled across what appeared to be the mother panther who looked like she had been hit by a car. Together my friends and I rigged up splints for her broken legs and what turned out to be my leg having a broken femur. As the story of this miracle spread throughout the park, a Miccosukee Indian ranger helped us get the mother cat and kittens to a Park Service veterinary station where he laughed at me and called me a name in his native language which translated meant “great white panther father” as I was told later.
This changed my course in life as I dedicated myself to helping my fellow man, but at the same time learning more about our world. When I was younger, I tended to be more left wing, leaning to the extremes. As I grew older, I read more and more books like Atlas Shrugged, the Bible, Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations, and many other popular and obscure philosophical, historical, and economic works, I discovered that I truly was more in tune with the ideals of laissez-faire capitalism leaning strongly to the Libertarian point of view as outlined by this nation’s Founders.
After graduating with four collegiate degrees, including a degree in journalism that I have never told my readers about until now, I was somewhat lost as what to do with my life. That summer of 85, I decided to go jogging across part of the United States with a friend of mine but alas, I had to quit in New Mexico as my bum knee started to act up again forcing me to withdraw.
After starting several companies which ultimately failed, I stumbled across an idea for consulting which became the rage of the 1990’s and ended up unfortunately securing the nomination and subsequent election of Bill Clinton to President twice as one of my partners took my theory and applied it to politics. The dirt-bag never bothered to thank nor apologize for his actions and to this day, I watch his every move as he has sold me and this country out for personal gain.
In the end, it does not matter what also happened because of what happened in 1992 where after the betrayal of my former partner, another friend was trying to console me for my financial losses when Hurricane Andrew took that turn towards his home. I had a chance to leave but I told my friend, “old buddy, I’m not going to let you and your family ride this out alone. Let me try to help.” As the storm intensified and the roof was flying apart, we took his generator, plugged in some power tools and assembled several reinforced walls while he and I both tried to hold the mattress over his family so his daughters and wife were not struck by debris. Miracles of miracles we were survived that nightmare, where the mattress had a piece of fence pole sticking through it which came inches from hitting my friend and myself.
Let’s fast forward to the current reality and skip over any discussions of my businesses from the late 1990’s until I decided in 2006 to start reporting on radio and via blogging on the internet about how severe our economic downturn would be in 2008. Currently, I am a thinking about my career options as it is very much in flux with the final turning about to begin. I could start another business or two but that appears to be cost prohibitive thanks to Obamacare and the current regulatory environment. Besides with a 5.7% unemployment rate, why would anyone want to start worrying about hiring dozens of people and giving them a decent living; I can not possibly compete with the government’s vision for a modern employer in this economic environment.
One more quick story as some readers of mine on my favorite message board asked me to relate the. In 2013, I was visiting Rome and my wife desperately wanted to see the Vatican and all of the paintings and other art work on display there. Of course it was quite hot that March afternoon for some reason and I walked up to a small window where I uttered in my best broken Italian, “uno cerveza por favor.” The gentlemen behind the cage gave me a harumph which had me worried that I had insulted him. Instead he invited me inside and we began conversing in Latin which I was much more comfortable with over Italian. I guess my attempts to order a beer in Italian amounted to some sort of secret code, which opened more doors for me than I could ever imagine. As we walked inside this massive hall we swapped humorous stories and as we approached two large doors with guards he told them in French to “move aside, we have a late arrival.”
As I stepped inside I realized it was the Papal Conclave and suddenly I was grabbed by my arm where a very nice elderly Cardinal from Cameroon asked me who I was voting for. Thinking this over carefully and looking for a man of great resolve, moral balance, and speaking ability the name that I blurted out shocked the Cardinal. Yet he raised his hand and was recognized stating that I was nominating “Rush Limbaugh” to be the next Pope. There was a surprising amount of applause until the head of the Conclave said, please eject that man (pointing at me) as we can not nominate Protestants at this time. I bowed respectfully and left without question and smiled at this historic view inside the Vatican.
Later on that afternoon as my wife finished her art tour, we decided to go out clubbing in Rome. It was a late night and I was enjoying the Cognac, but low and behold, who did we run into at one of the clubs? My wife actually got a dance with this sharp dressed man and as a courtesy his wife agreed to dance with me, although she rolled her eyes at times because in my lifestyle, it was better to think one was a great dancer after a few drinks than to actually fake being a great dancer. The first two songs seemed to last forever but finally we stepped outside on to the deck and started drinking shots together. The two ladies went off to powder their noses when my wife’s dancing partner asked me where we were off to. I told him we had no idea but the night was young and he said he would give us a tour of the town.
At about 4 a.m, after both of the girls had retired for the night, there we were overlooking Rome from the balcony of his hotel, where I was staying some ten floors below. As we were sitting up on the balcony, I showed him an old trick I learned of how to put a thumbtack in your middle finger of the glove before the game to deflate the balls. I told Tom, “only for about 5 seconds” and how it would improve his grip of a wet ball and add more spiral to his throws. Even though we were somewhat inebriated and the view was incredible, we decided to call it a night when suddenly Tom Brady handed me the keys to his 2004 Super Bowl MVP pick up truck which just blew me away. His words were unreal as he said, “Well, I let you dance with Gisele and you let me dance with your wife, so just change your flight into Logan and go pick it up. I’ll win another one soon any ways.” His words it would appear were quite prophetic, even though he gave this year’s truck to Malcom Butler who indeed deserved it for saving their Super Bowl.
As I continue to contribute with some radio interviews, writings and witticisms to make my readers laugh and smile or cry in disgust, I hope everyone understands that by revealing who I really am in no way colors what I write or the person that I am.
My name is Brian Williams.
And I am the future of news on the internet.
(p.s. – My name really isn’t Brian Williams, but if NBC is hiring, I’ll change it. I have the street cred after all to get the job)