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Iowa

The MSM reporters are proving, once again, that they are idiots. They are reporting that no one saw the rise of Rick Santorum. It wasn’t hard to see if you shut up, got out of the beltway, and watched.

Iowa is a retail politics state and Santorum is the only candidate who made it a point to visit each of the state’s counties early on.

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The Iraq War and those UN Resolutions

To hear the liberal media talk, you’d think the only reason we went into Iraq was because of weapons of mass destruction.  No so.  One of the several reasons was Iraq’s repeated violations of UN resolutions.   In fact, the fuss in 2002/2003 was how many UN resolutions Iraq had violated.  I researched the issue, and here’s my original post.  (It contained links, but those links have long since rotted.)

 

I’ve been annoyed by the media reports calling the newest UN Security Council resolution on Iraq a second resolution. Donald Rumsfeld calls it the 18th. I questioned a CNN producer by e-mail, asking why they don’t accurately report the number of resolutions. He challenged me to name and attribute the resolutions. Here are 18 that I have found – making the one currently under debate the 19th:

Resolution 660 – (August 2, 1990) condemns Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait and calls for unconditional withdrawal.

Resolution 661 – (August 6, 1990) Imposes economic sanctions on Iraq.

Resolution 678 – (September 29, 1990) Demands compliance with resolution 660

Resolution 686 – (March 2, 1991) Demands Iraq’s compliance with 12 previous resolutions condemning it’s invasion of Kuwait (Resolution 660 and 11 others that slightly amend or amplify 660 -it appears the UN doesn’t count them as separate resolutions)

Resolution 687 – (April 3, 1991) Cease-fire and mandate of UNSCOM

Resolution 688 – (April 5, 1991) Condemns Iraqi attacks on Kurds and Shiites

Resolution 699 – (June 17, 1991) Iraq liable for costs associated with UNSCOM

Resolution 707 – (August 15, 1991) Iraq’s compliance, inspection flights, Iraq’s disclosures

Resolution 715 – (October 11, 1991) Approval of ongoing monitoring and verification plan

Resolution 1051 – (March 27, 1996) Approval of export/import monitoring mechanism

Resolution 1060 – (June 12, 1996) Condemnation of Iraq’s refusal to grant inspection access

Resolution 1115 – (June 21, 1997) Condemnation of Iraq’s refusal to grant inspections and interviews

Resolution 1134 – (October 23, 1997) Condemnation of Iraq’s behavior, further sanctions threatened

Resolution 1137 – (November 12, 1997) Condemnation of Iraq’s behavior, imposition of travel ban

Resolution 1154 – (March 2, 1998) Endorsement of the MOU on access to Presidential sites

Resolution 1194 – (September 9, 1998) Condemnation of Iraq’s decision to stop all UNSCOM work

Resolution 1205 – (November 5, 1998) Condemnation of Iraq’s decision to halt monitoring

Resolution 1441 – (November 7, 2002) Demands disarmament and inspections

Today, in 2011, folks are asking if the war was worth the effort.  I think one should take these resolutions into account when deciding.

 

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U.S. shuts down poker sites

The federal government has just shut down several of the largest on-line poker sites in the world! Was this to ensure the moral purity of the American public? Was it to protect the innocent, poor and uneducated from falling prey to hopeless schemes where they have little chance of winning. Well, since government sponsors various lotteries where the odds of winning are astronomical, and as random as a lightning strike, this seems improbable.

It’s the money. All those billions in poker money. The politicians want their share. This is Obama’s Fort Sumpter, the first shot fired in a war to seize the internet. Will freedom minded liberals and conservatives join together and rise up to save the last bastion of free thought and free enterprise on the planet?

The federal government is full of power-mad politicians who will stop at nothing to seize our resources so they can convert them into power for themselves. (If you want to see your money at work, take a tour of abandoned homes in your neighborhood, courtesy of the federal government, or stand in line and at the grocery store and watch shoppers with shopping baskets full of ribs, steaks and other expensive items, pay with a food stamp card, then deliver the items to the trunk of a shiny Mercedes.) The federal manta is: if it moves, tax it; if it keeps moving, regulate it; if it stops moving, subsidize it. They tax everything now, even the weather. The federal government has four basic personality types controlling our lives: thieves, liars, tyrants and incompetents; and they each have the force of arms behind them to ensure compliance, through imprisonment or death, from anyone who refuses to follow their benevolent dictums – and be sure you don’t forget about all those new hi-tech shotguns the IRS purchased recently.

I’m particularly ashamed of the part the Republican party has played in the anti-online poker war. If anything, poker is the American symbol of the individual and for capitalism, where an individual uses his skill to mitigate the ebb and flow of random statistical events and turn a profit using his intelligence. There is no reward without some risk. And free individuals should have the right to risk their resources in any manner they choose. If they eventually lose those resources playing poker, it’s still better than having the blood-hungry politicians of America confiscate them to dispense to their electorate. Given that, the Republicans should stick to fiscal issues (such as keeping the dollar sound), protecting the boarders and ensuring that the country has a strong defense, and leave the social/moral issues to the will of the public. These are the issues that won their house victory. There is no mandate for a the conservative wing of American politics to provide a moral premise for the public anymore than there is a mandate for the liberal wing to provide itself as a surrogate husband to the increasing number of fatherless families. It would be nice, and completely unexpected, if our federal government, acting through their sea of bureaucrats, loosened its hands from our wallets and removed its intrusive nostrils from our collective anuses. But don’t hold your breath.

Federal has become a byword for thievery, waste, and incompetence. Excepting the case of war (at least in the first half of the last century), there is nothing the federal bureaucracy can do as well as private industry. As a retirement age baby boomer, this is how I see the federal government: My enemy. We revolted against King George for confiscatory polices that were a lot less heinous than our current government’s, and we were perhaps less divided on issues during the Civil War. I fear that another rebellion is the only way to save the remnants of our constitutional republic.

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Behold A Pail of Horsepucky

A review of Behold a Pale Horse by William Riley Cooper, Light Technology Publishing, 1991.

Author William Cooper is a darling among the extreme faction of the UFO cult. Behold A Pale Horse is his underground magnum opus that presents “documentation” that UFOs are not only here, but have had a long-standing treaty with the United States government. The point of said contract is to trade humans to the aliens, to use for food or as Guinea pigs, in exchange for technology. The whole deal is somehow tied into conspiracies that go back thousands of years and involve every clandestine group known to mankind. In a nutshell – with the emphasis on “nut” – this is what Cooper maintains.

Jeez, with book this bad, this intellectually flaccid . . . Where to start?

First up, Mr. Cooper begins by taking cheap shots at his detractors, and former disgruntled-business partners, using one-sided arguments and character assassination like a blunt cleaver. If nothing else, any reasonable person should proceed from this point with trepidation and an awareness that they are not dealing with a socially well-adjusted individual. He refers (p.21) to a pair of his former business partners as ” two old has-been actors turned con men,” and implies that they are thieves and liars. One can only wonder why, if they are so bad, he decided to associate with them in the first place. Bad judgment? Or birds of a feather? Later (p. 231), and with no apparent awareness of irony, he accuses UFO magazine publisher Vicki Cooper (no relation) of engaging in character assassination. William Cooper should know character assassination when he sees it. It is a sub-text in Behold A Pale Horse and is constantly employed in an attempt to undermine the credibility of his detractors.

A point by point refutation of William Cooper’s blather would result in terminal tedium for the reader of this review; as for this reviewer, I have guns in the house and have had fits of depression, so must be careful least the monumental task of recounting Mr. Cooper’s logic faults and contradictory statements drives me to do myself harm. So I will summarize, and give a limited number of examples of his mental ennui.

The moon has greenery upon it, and a breathable atmosphere; hence man can walk its surface without a spacesuit. (p. 221)

He recounts a series of random acts of violence (p. 225), such as mass shootings, then infers – with no substantiation – that all perpetrators where current or former mental patients who were on Prozac and had brain implants. The latter can be proven by exhumation of the bodies, he suggests. (And how likely is it that a mental patient would be on Prozac?)

He posits (p. 220) that the book and television documentary Alternative 3 –created by the BBC and broadcast on April 1 as an April’s fool joke – is a reality. Among other things, Alternative 3 says there is a cooperative effort by the now defunct USSR and the USA, who both have had bases on the moon and mars for decades, to cull the best scientific brains by kidnapping them and relocating them to bases on mars, the moon, etc.

He informs us (p. 202) that the movies Close Encounters Of The Third Kind and ET are both lightly fictionalized versions of true events. (How about War Of The Worlds, then?)

In quick summation, Cooper believes, or at least purports to believe, that the crucifixion of Jesus, the assassination of JFK – who was killed because he discovered the aliens were behind the illegal drug trade in America (glad that’s finally solved)–are all part of the same Grand Conspiracy by a cabal of governmental elitists comprised of the Bilderberg Group, the Illuminati, and both gray and reptilian aliens which flit about the planet doing deals with our government, abducting people, and carving up cattle for sport while waiting for large vats, located in the southwestern United States, of human body parts to come to a boil. Basically, his theories are the distillation of the fantasies of the extremely dysfunctional raving paranoiacs on your average mental ward.

Of course some of you may have heard these claims before. Essentially, Cooper includes every far-out UFO/Alien Abduction rumor ever generated by the UFO cults. And why are we to now believe all these far-out rumors and myths? Why, because William Cooper has credibility. He was a member of US Naval Intelligence and had access to secret files. So he says.

Early in the book Cooper admitted that at one point he had deliberately sowed “disinformation” (p.28) about UFOs in an attempt to “convince the known agents that I was just a harmless kook who didn’t really know anything.” (How hard could that have been?) And here he reveals his method for writing Behold A Pale Horse. “I prepared some bogus information, mixed it with some true information, and passed it . . .” (ibid, 28) This is a well known tactic among practiced liars, intelligence operatives, politicians and children. ( “Oftentimes, to win us to our harm, the instruments of darkness tell us truths, win us with honest trifles, to betray us in deepest consequence.” Macbeth: Shakespeare).

If you mix a lie with a liberal amount of truth, people will lick it up with relish. This is why I am a Cynic. (The Cynic school of philosophy was named after dogs – who wisely smell and test things before consuming them.) This is a trick Cooper uses constantly: the fatally flawed syllogism. (A syllogism is a basic method of logic, comprised of a major statement (All men have testicles), a minor statement (John is a man) and a logical inference drawn from the truth of the major and minor premises: (John is a man; therefore, John has testicles.) When a series of true statements are presented, along with a lie, the weight of all the known truths seem to give support to the lie. It doesn’t matter how simple the truths or how radical the lie. For example: Cooper, reporting a well known UFO myth, says that President Eisenhower met with the aliens and signed a treaty with them (p.202 ). The elements of the story are as follows: On February 20, 1954, while ostensibly on a three-week vacation in Palm Springs, President Eisenhower slipped over to Edwards Air Force Base where, with a delegation of public figures, he met with the aliens and signed a treaty with them.

This can be broken into a series of statements.

There is an Edwards Air Force Base.

President Eisenhower was on vacation in Palm Springs on February 20, 1954.

The list of delegates who were in attendance are all real public figures who were alive at the time in question.

President Eisenhower signed a treaty with aliens.

Here is our flawed syllogism. Though some premises are true, one is not; hence the inference is incorrect. Though statements one through three are all true, a full three-quarters of story, it doesn’t follow that statement four is true. The weight of truth of the first three statements does absolutely nothing by way of proving the validity of the assertion of statement four. Mix a lie in with a lot of detailed truth, and the lie becomes believable. Minute detail does not mean truth, nor repeating something over and over. But a host of Cooper readers apparently have neither the wit nor the experience to understand that they are being spoon-fed a bunch of confabulation by a con-man.

Still, there is a certain portion of the population that will believe absolutely anything. One reviewer mentions that Behold A Pale Horse came highly recommended to him by a cousin, who read it in prison, where it was all the rage among inmates, particularly black inmates. That solid endorsement makes perfect sense to me. I’m sure that the prisoners in question used the same powers of discernment, and the same good decision making ability, when reading literature that they used in the events leading to their incarceration.

Mr. Cooper does not come off as an erudite individual. His writing reveals a sulky, angry, contumacious, paranoid and not at all the type of individual to have had any part in significant military intelligence operations or access to vital data. The military may be some things, but it ain’t that stupid. This has led some to speculate that Cooper was exposed to certain documents precisely because he would blab about them, hence serving a covert purpose as a purveyor of misinformation for the intelligence community. (In the intelligence field, getting disinformation out is often as important as protecting relevant information.) But the majority of documents he presents are not even valid as disinformation. He speaks of the Protocols Of The Elders Of Zion–a patent fabrication from around 1700 that has been discredited for almost three centuries – as if it were the wellspring of truth. (The Protocols, for those of you who don’t know, are purported to be a secret plan laid out by rich powerful Jews to take over the world; however, secret cabals simply don’t commit their heinous plans to paper: and the Jews are not that stupid. Believers in the reality of the Protocols are usually also the type of individuals who believe that the Jews kill and eat Christian babies.) Another document, pompously titled by Mr. Cooper as The Illuminati’s War Upon The People Of America and quoted as if it were gospel, was purportedly sent to him by someone who found it in an IBM copier they purchased at a surplus sale – which apparently provided the document with all the credibility Cooper needed. (Besides, if the Illuminati is that inept – that their secret documents are laying about in used copy machines, how much should we fear them?)

But what is truly amazing about Behold A Pale Horse is not what Cooper claims, but that some people can read the book and come away as believers! That is a stunning indictment of our educational system. To teach someone to read, but not teach them logic – to the point that they cannot discern literary feces such as this for what it is – should be a crime. Paranoid minds, and minds overly-taxed by ordinary day – to – day reality, apparently take this malarkey – filled text seriously. Discerning and intelligent readers will find it an interesting read for completely different reasons. It is a tsunami of disinformation. It is a textbook on how to avoid logical conclusions and how to sow disinformation by using completely unproven premises taken from un-credible documents. In short, it is the best example of fallacious reasoning this reviewer has yet to come across, and should be on the bookshelf of every sociologist and ardent student of inexplicably-stupid-things people believe.

If you are waiting for the alien mothership that is coming in behind the comet to pick you up, this is the book for you to read. And if your meds have kicked in, your state of consciousness may be just dim enough to comprehend it.

Addendum:

In 2001, in Arizona, while Apache County Sheriff’s deputies were serving a warrant on Mr. Cooper, Cooper shot one of the deputies in the head and was subsequently shot and killed by another deputy. I suggest that the deputy who put a bullet into Mr. Cooper did the literary world – not to mention proponents of ratiocination – an extraordinary favor. My only wish is that he had shot him sooner – before he had a chance to spew out Behold A Pale Horse. Naturally, Mr. Cooper’s fans will see his death as justification of his alien/FBI/Bilderberg/Illuminati/Jewish bankers, etcetera al. conspiracy theory. I think the answer is a lot simpler. I think maybe the deputy had a long-standing grudge against proponents of gross stupidity.

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Katrina – 5 years later

Five years ago, Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans.  The media blamed Republican president George W. Bush.  They ignored the actions of Democrat Governor Kathleen Blanco and Democrat Mayor Ray Nagin, who did mostly nothing to prepare people.  Hollywood leftists flocked to the scene.

Tonight, the same media is reliving, as they say, the hurricane.  We thought we would reprise our own coverage of the storm – first, our Mahone Dunbar.

Katrina Hits Hollywood


Sean Penn
Penn & Ink Productions
609 Palm Lane
Hollywood, CA

To Carl Weishammer,
Cinema Solutions West, Inc.
1134 Hollywood Blvd.
Suite 110
Hollywood, CA 90210

Re: Project proposal

Dear Carl:

Hope everything is going well for you. I am about to get a new film project off the ground and immediately thought of you as the principle cinematographer – providing you can pencil me into your busy schedule. I will need a sixteen week block of time starting in late November of this year. I intend to wrap post production by early March and be ready for late spring or early summer release. Please let me know if you are interested.

I am currently headed out of town on a mission of mercy to New Orleans, with my entourage, but you have my cell number, so call anytime. However, I’m not sure if the cell towers are functioning properly down there as yet, so you may have to leave a message with my service. In addition to saving some lives down there, I intend to kill two birds with one stone by getting some set ideas on film, and soaking up the atmosphere of events, and getting the big picture on this whole catastrophe thing.

Here are some relevant stats and facts, as well as a brief plot synopsis and some production ideas, that I would like to bring to your attention. I have included some script specifics (the first section is completed) to give you the flavor, and a synopsis of the rest. I have included a few of the story-board sketches to give you an idea of my camera angles, etc.

Cordially,

Sean Penn

PS Financing will be no problem on this one. I made some great personal connections with money sources on my last trip to the Mid-East. Being familiar with the general tenor of the project, they have already expressed an interest in bank-rolling it.


Proposal: Action movie

Working title of production: The Big Blow

Alternate title of production: Bushwhacked

Setting: New Orleans, post Katrina

Cast: To be determined (some tentative suggestions below, if available)

Star: Sean Penn

Scripting: Sean Penn

Director: Sean Penn

Cinematography: To be determined

The Big Blow

Partial Script, Narrative Outline, and Synopsis

Sean Penn

Copyright 2005

Title credits over shots of New Orleans in happier times.

Opening: We will use some canned footage, stock shots and such, of old New Orleans for the titles, during Mardi Gra, perhaps, with crowds of revelers partying big time. Dixieland jazz will be played behind this. As the titles come to an end, we segue to the White House and the Oval Office. Here, we see two men, the president, (Alex Balwin has expressed interest in the role) and his top advisor, a Karl Rove type (I’m shooting for Danny DeVito here, his busy schedule permitting). The two are considering a NYT headline that reads: “Iraq occupation winding down. Future of Iraqi Oil Fields In Doubt.”

President: Putting down the paper, looking glum: “Well, that just about tears our plans, Paul. Damn! After all the money I invested . . . ”

Presidential Advisor: A smug smile on his face, he produces the Washington Post. Its headline reads: “Katrina headed for Gulf Coast: New Orleans and off-shore oil fields may be in danger.”   “I wouldn’t worry about that, sir. We may have a bonanza closer to home.”

President: Looking up at advisor. “What? We’d have to be mighty lucky.”

Presidential Advisor: Chuckling. “Lucky? Remember the Tesla particle beam energy weapon we have in geo-synchronous orbit, sitting there doing nothing since the Reagen administration? I had our science boys spread the beam’s focus out and point it at the gulf–about a four-hundred mile spread. Anyway, it heated the ocean surface up a few degrees, enough to mimic the global warming effect–the greeners would love that if they ever found out–and get a good class five hurricane going. The rotation of the earth will do the rest. It should go right over the oil fields. They’ll be destroyed, or damaged and condemned. They’ll have to be shut down, with a loss of hundreds of millions of dollars.”

President: “But . . . Paul. They’re reporting that New Orleans is directly in its path. All those people . . . ”

Presidential Advisor: Shrugs. “But, they’re not our kind of people, are they? Mr. President. They’re blue state voters. Besides, the destruction of New Orleans will provide the distraction we need. The surge from a category five will breech the levee–we’ve made sure the levee could never stop anything over a cat four. New Orleans will flood. In the confusion, everyone, including the media, will be too busy to notice as our dummy corporations move in and buy up the damaged and condemned oil fields. Then, you put the squeeze on your Saudi pals again to raise the price of imported barrels of oil. . . Congress will gladly allow the reopening of the old fields and the establishment of new ones off the coast. The public will demand it.”

President: Smiling. “That’s great news. No wonder I pay you so damn much. Come on. I feel like celebrating. Let’s fly down to Florida and shoot some dolphins.”

The president gets up from his desk and heads for the door. At the hatrack, he stops to pick up a cowboy hat, then turns around, having just remembered something.

President: “But what if Katrina doesn’t create enough of a surge to destroy the levee and inundate New Orleans?”

Presidential Advisor: Shakes his head, and smiles broadly. “Oh, the levee will break . . . one way or another. That’s already taken care of. Don’t worry. Nothing can go wrong.”

President. He starts to ask how, but thinks better of it, puts on his cowboy hat and turns away.

Presidential Advisor: After the president leaves, the advisor turns to a TV screen that is now showing Katrina blowing around New Orleans. He mutters to himself. “Hope you monkeys can swim.”

Cut to New Orleans Setting: A neighborhood near the levee as heavy rains from the tail end of Katrina are passing. [Atmosphere Note: The feel what I want here is a cinema noire type thing; bleak, gray and wet. The music will become the pulse of the inner city, thumping gansta rap.]

Behind a row of houses, above the levee and seen though heavy rain, a black helicopter with no markings hovers. The camera then switches to following an African-American youth, KaMeen. KaMeen is out in the torrential rain looking for his lost dog, Berniemac, calling its name over and over. He comes upon the scene at the levee and pauses to watch as several men in camouflage gear rappel from the helicopter on ropes. The men hurriedly plant explosive charges in the ground, then back out of range to await further instruction.

KaMeen happens to have a digital camera handy. Since his curiosity is aroused – he hopes one day to become a reporter and break a big story like Watergate – be begins taking pictures of the unusual scene. As he is photographing the men on the levee, Berniemac finds him. After a hurried and joyful reunion between KaMeen and his dog, he returns to photographing the strange happenings on the levee. Unfortunately, Berniemac notices the men on the levee and begins barking at them. The men on the levee hear the dog and subsequently see the youth – in the middle of taking a picture – before he can withdraw to safety.

Group Leader in copter: Close up shot, shouting into his headset at the ground-team leader: “Get that kid! And bring me that camera!”

On the ground, the goons start chasing KaMeen. They are no more than a block from the levee when the explosives go off and the levee gives way, sending torrents of water gushing out. This immediately washes away two of the goons.


KaMeen takes pictures of the president’s henchmen getting ready to blow up the levee.

Using his street savvy, KaMeen manages to elude the men, who are now taking shots at him. As the water rises, the goons begin to panic. One is impaled by a falling weather vane. Another is crushed by a concrete brick wall that collapses. Running toward higher ground, KaMeen goes through a small opening in a chain link fence at an industrial site. The final goon pursues, but his military-style utility belt gets stuck in the fence. As the water rises around him, he screams. KaMeen stops and looks over his shoulder as the man’s last scream is replaced by a choking gurgle.

KaMeen: “Come on, Berniemac. We got to find Shamall and tell him about this!”

This section ends with the helicopter high in the air, from which the group leader watches helplessly as KaMeen disappears into the rapidly flooding city.

Team Leader: Shouting into his headset. “Call in another team. . .. . I don’t care what it costs! We’ve got to find that kid and get that camera.” He motions to the pilot and the black, unmarked copter disappears into the sky.

Segue. Fade-in to Street Scene, New Orleans, post Katrina.

The camera establishes a long shot of flooded streets and people wandering around confused. It slowly pans in on the figure of Shamall (played by Ice T, who has already committed to the project), who is a compassionate and benevolent gang leader, a community activist with political aspirations, and a positive role-model for lower income youth. Shamall and his posse, knee deep water, are directing refugees, helping the old and infirm, and explaining to them where to best appropriate the resources they will need for survival. Shamall comes upon an old woman, futility trying to break the window out of a pastry shop with her cane.


Shamall proves himself a boon to the community in dire times.

Shamall: Smiling. “Yo’, granny. This is how you do it.”

He deftly removes a crowbar from under his shirt, grips it like a baseball bat, and shatters the window.

Old lady: Holding a donut aloft in one hand, she raises the other, with the cane in it, and waves at Shamall as he retreats down the street. “God bless you, young man! I didn’t know where my breakfast wuz coming from.”

Segue to KaMeen, pulling Berniemac in a red wagon as he wanders down the flooded streets of the French Quarter. He is attracted by commotion coming from a nearby jewelry store, whose display windows have been broken out. He spots Shamall, standing in front of the busted window, laden with gold chains and other shiny baubles.

Shamall hears a dog bark, and turns to see KaMeen and Berniemac.

Shamall: “Yo, lit’al bro. I been worried ‘bout yo’ skinny ass. Where you been?”

KaMeen: “Shamall . . . what you doing?”

Shamall: “Uh, liberating some of these goods. You know . . . so I can, ah, use them later to barter with the corrupt political forces in this city for food for the people.”

KaMeen then explains to Shamall about what he saw at the levee, the pictures he took, and the men who chased him.

Shamall: “Damn!” He motions for his posse to gather. “Word up, guys. My little brother just laid some heavy shit on me.”

Shamall explains KaMeen’s situation and the fact that the ominous and always mysterious powers-that-be have tried to destroy the city.

Shamall: Scowling in the classic Ice T way. “This is heavy, man. From now on, we gots to protect our own, dig? These goons will be coming after us, maybe disguised as rescuers.

Posse Member MC Weasel-tooth: He nervously fingers a large crucifix he wears. “Disguised as rescuers? Man, that jest ain’t right. That’s positively un-Christian.”

Shamall: “Right, Weasel-tooth. So, anybody get near the hood in a boat, shoot the shit out of ‘em. Got it?”

They all nod. A couple pull their nines and rack one in the chamber.

Anonymous Posse member: “Man . . . this is too heavy. Maybe we should go to the po-lease? Git them to help?”

Shamall: “Fool. You know a powerful cabal of the white po-lease and corrupt white politicians controls this town. They be wantin’ to hunt us to extinction anyway.”

Posse Lieutenant, Kamir: Wearing wrap-around mirrored shades and a stocking over his hair. He pulls two Desert Eagle auto mags from beneath his shirt and holds them aloft. “Don’t worry ’bout it. None of them ‘publican bitches getting’ through. Ain’t nobody huntin’ me to extinction.”

All Posse Members: A general clamor of agreement goes up.

Shamall: “Good deal, men. Now, while there’s still daylight, let’s get busy and get some more tangible goods that we might later use to barter for food for the old and the infirm. I’d suggest we start at that Best Buy over there. Them plasma screen TVs got to be good for a few loaves of bread.”

Cut to rescue jump-off point. Red Cross workers and civilian volunteers mill around. From the back of the crowd there is a commotion among the aid workers and victims who are idling around. It is the arrival of Hollywood actor, humanitarian, world traveler, intellectual and political activist, Brawn Pennelton (Sean Penn). Pennelton is wearing his John Lennon-style sunglasses, his signature black beret, and is sporting a flak jacket.

Action: Pennelton passes among the victims of Katrina, giving words of encouragement, shaking hands, and passing out boxes of breath mints. Since he has an affinity for the less fortunate which comprise the urban population, he is hip to the latest handshakes on the street, and uses these to bond with the victims as he passes among them. His sincere smile and easy going manner create instant rapport with the flood victims and lift their spirits considerably. His entourage has commandeered a boat for him, so he can go in and rescue two or three victims personally. He also has a film crew among his entourage so that they can record his magnanimity and self-sacrifice for prosperity.

Synopsis: The middle section of the movie is comprised of a series of cliff-hangers as the posse is chased, and in turn chases, and clashes with the goons who are after KaMeen and his camera. Brawn Pennelton comes upon Shamall as the latter is cornered by a force comprised of corrupt police and government goons. Also with Shamall is a Sydny, a sexy young female Red-Cross aid worker (Angelina Jolie would be perfect here) with striking good looks who has been caught up in the events. Brawn intervenes, takes a machine gun away from a goon, and he, Shamall, and Sydny (who proves surprisingly sufficient with automatic weaponry) fight their way out of the fray and escape. As they continue to elude police, Brawn and Shamall bond, and Shamall – realizing that Brawn is actually a caring and sensitive individual, thus trustworthy – explains about the importance of KaMeen’s camera. A hot romantic relationship also develops between Brawn and Sydny. Brawn decides that if he can get the camera and take it to Hollywood, where there are a lot of people concerned with freedom and truth, he can inform the world about how the current corrupt Washington administration blew up the levee, and thus bring down the corrupt regime. He convinces Shamall to let him take possession of the camera.

Ending:


Brawn Pennelton, actor, intellectual, and selfless friend of humanity, saves the day.

This is all a good set up for a great action ending. After another protracted gun battle and chase scene,  most of the goons and Shamall’s posse die, and Shamall is incapacitated by a grievous wound. As a helicopter with the presidential advisor, Paul, aboard (who has come to New Orleans to personally oversee things) rises in the air to escape, Brawn Pennelton jumps up and clings to one of the struts. As the copter begins to rise, Brawn realizes he might die and bravely takes KaMeen’s camera and tosses it down to Sydny.

Brawn: Shouting over the roar of the copter blades. “For God’s sake . . . get that to Hollywood! The truth must prevail. The president is using an energy beam weapon to worsen global warming! It’s a vast conspiracy for oil!”

Brawn knows that if the helicopter escapes all will be lost; the truth will never be known and the murder of his friends, the innocent gang members, will continue. So, in an ultimate act of sacrifice, he uses his free hand to grab his gun and fire up through the bottom of the helicopter, and at the fuel tank. One of the bullets strikes the pilot, killing him. Another bullet hits the fuel tank. With the presidential advisor screaming in terror, the copter spins wildly out of control. As Sydny, the wounded Shamall, KaMeen and Berniemac, all watch in horror, the helicopter explodes high in the air.

Final scene: Sydny, a bandaged Shamall, KaMeen and his dog, Berniemac, are seen in a Cadillac passing a freeway sign that says “Hollywood: Next Exit.” A rap version of “Fight The Power” by the Isley Brothers begins to play in the background.

Fade to black.

End:

Final Credits. Fade back in and play over an air shot of a flooded New Orleans. A funeral dirge plays softly, and a tattered American flag waves gently in a breeze. The camera slowly closes in on an object floating in the water. It is a newspaper with the headline: President Impeached. A smaller headline reads: Beloved Hollywood star missing in New Orleans. The camera then slowly pans to a piece of flotsam, and slowly closes in on it: It is Brawn Pennelton’s signature beret, drifting in the water.

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