“I use the word idiotic in the chaotic sense that Leeland likes to write about. The Idiot Report, that’s such a good title for your column. It’s deceptive, right? It’s meant to disarm your readers, I imagine, the self-deprecating joke, and it’s instantly proven ironic once you start reading. But it’s code isn’t it? It’s a wink to your compatriots, men like Graham. The enlightened idiot with all the answers to creation, the common man who can only be overlooked by those brainwashed by mainstream media. You all are the everymen, everything that the news forgets, the black of the cracks that the common man is prone to fall into. As black as Chad’s eyes before his fall.
“The recent wave of firings across media involving various types of abuse only bolstered the numbers who find solace in men like Graham. He was bitter after he was fired from the Times, after all those years that he had capitulated and allowed his work to be published online, and word is, he complained about the soft generation born since the 1980s that was too sensitive to be trusted to the future of this country. He spoke a truth that some people found refreshing and the rumors of his podcast are true, but it is difficult to access. One must be initiated, as I imagine that you are.”
She was looking at Azalaan who had a dumb look on his face. He seemed shocked that Marlo had interrupted her riveting account to address him and he stammered for words.
“I’m…not sure what you mean,” Azalaan said.
“I won’t pry, everyone is entitled to their secrets. But just a heads up if you are among the initiated, the red haired man from the C— told me things that may or may not be true of the organization to which you belong.
“When I asked the red haired man about Graham’s group, he said, ‘I talk too much. I don’t even know you and I’ve been talking your ear off.’ He tried to walk away, but I stood in front of him. ‘Tell me about the group,’ I pleaded, ‘I’m a big fan of Graham just like you.’ He was hesitant, but he did relent and we relaxed at the table where we had been sitting.
“‘Everything has cycles,’ he said. ‘You’ve heard the saying, there’s a time for everything. Well, this society, civilization as we know it, has cycles, and Graham believes that we are on the verge of major turn over. And by we, I mean the entire world and you can see it all over. People are tired of being lied to and they just want to hear something that sounds true from someone worthy of their trust. The American media, and the whole of media from Western cultures, has squandered their credibility in service to Democratic ideals. Is it true that the natural progression of the Civil Rights Movement by African Americans is support of Lesbian, Gay, Transgender and any other category of sexual or gender otherness? I would argue that the natural progression would be cementing the gains that were made on the books, in laws and that sort of thing. Because the Civil Rights Movement was hijacked by other interest groups, it lost its focus and that’s why black men are being executed in the streets of America into the twenty-first century.’
“Imagine my surprise to hear all this from a red headed white man with an accent that I couldn’t place. I don’t agree with the point he was making, that black people should just focus on issues that affect black people and I told him that. But I wonder what other black people think about that idea. I always forget the red haired man until I tell this story, so I usually forget to poll the black people in my life, but we should discuss that when I’m done rambling my way to the point of this whole recollection. Anyway, we debated that for a little before I got him back on track.
“There is an overriding sentiment of upheaval, a desire to buck leadership and install a new regime that actually attends to the needs of the people without taking so much. It will be the common man looking for purpose who will fuel this upheaval, led by charismatic men who give voice to their insecurities with a solution to that emptiness. Namely, the overthrow of society as we know it.’
“As he talked, I swear the entirety of his eyeballs became jet black. He was parroting something he’d heard, I could tell. I knew that he must be a regular listener to Graham’s secret podcast. I’ve managed to hear an episode or two and despite the content, which I definitely disagree with, his voice is entrancing. He’s so eloquent and he sounds like the most competent teacher or professor you’ve ever heard. Everything that comes out of his mouth sounds like the truth. Apparently, to Graham, men being fired for inappropriate behavior in the workplace necessitated a reboot of society. Not just that, but somehow that was the tipping point, or the last of the portentous horsemen. He also pointed to the steady increase in violent crime across the US, what he called the intentional blurring of the lines between genders, and the country’s inability to let go of racial divisions. He was talking about the coming Civil War II back in 2004 when Obama was elected, but most people considered it a joke. In the episode of the podcast that I heard, his sound-off was a warning of the impending implosion of America and implored his listeners to be ready. ‘When the horror comes, the real horror, will you be ready?’ I know he said that, it was so eerie and it felt as though he said it directly into my left ear. I can remember heat on my face like he was right next to me and all the hairs on my body stood on end. He was convinced that he was right and doing the good work, spreading the truth to anyone who would listen, and he emboldened those listeners to do and believe irrational things and to wear the derision of others brainwashed by mainstream media with pride. He declared himself the proud idiot as an act of defiance.
“Who knows how many people access that podcast and identify as proud idiots? How many people are prepped and ready with food and ammunition? I could only wonder why. The legendary Kurt Graham that I learned about in school was a level-headed man who cared about freedom and Democracy and he used the tools of journalism to encourage those virtues. Even if he had always harbored what could be considered far-right views, he never put that into the work. And he never courted conspiracy theories. A lot of his work can be used to debunk conspiracies, many of the ones that he now seems to fully embrace on his show. The change isn’t inexplicable, he did have many grudges with mainstream media by the time he must have started the podcast, but I couldn’t help but wonder what he gained from it all. What had caused the man to forsake his own ideals? Was there profit in it or blackmail? Or maybe he felt that he had finally found his capital T Truth. I asked the red haired man if he thought Graham was right about everything, namely the coming collapse of Western society.
“‘I didn’t at first,’ he admitted. ‘It all sounded like extreme hyperbole to emphasize a point, but the dots he connects, the world events that have happened over the last twenty years. He predicted Russia’s current aggression to former Soviet countries, and the conservative seizure of political mechanisms around the world despite the fact that most people’s views align with left leaning ideas. He is a student of history, and even if the things he says sound far-fetched now, pretty soon, time will reveal the truth.’
“I wanted to understand what exactly had changed for Graham and when. I don’t know, I guess if a man like Graham could go to the ‘dark side’, then I too was susceptible. Was it a very persuasive argument that he’d heard? Was there something more sinister at play? I asked the red haired man if Graham held in-person meetings with his group of proud idiots, and he laughed. ‘Graham is a very paranoid man. It’s my fault, I ruined it for everyone. Only his personal secretary sees his face, and five of the proudest idiots he knows who are almost as charismatic as he is.’ I asked him if he thought I could catch up to Graham before he left London; I assumed that he was headed to the airport because he had checked out of the hotel.
“‘I don’t think he’s leaving London, I’m pretty sure they’re all meeting here. They’re American and they will only gather together outside of the country to avoid any possibility of surveillance. That’s what I heard, but I won’t go near him outside of the hotel. At least here, people know me and I pay them to be worried about my whereabouts. Out in the streets, one of the idiots might attack me to gain Graham’s favor. He mentioned me on the podcast and there was a rash of violent assaults against red haired men in cities around the globe where his listeners live. If you want to find him, and I don’t know if it is the best idea to try to find him unless you really do agree with his current worldview and can be beneficial to him in some way, he’ll be at All Saints Church on Margaret Street. When I wasn’t afraid to venture out of the hotel in pursuit of him, he would always go to the church after leaving the hotel, and the next sighting of him would be back in America. I will never be able to explain that. I swear with all that I am that on one occasion, I followed Graham’s car from the hotel to the church, I saw him walk from the car to the church, and he never emerged from the building. Visitors to the church are only allowed in and out of the front entrance, I confirmed that, and Graham has absolutely no connection to the All Saints Church, nothing that would explain why he would be given access to any other exit from the church building. And since I’ve learned more about his secretary and his proudest idiots, I’ve noticed that they, too, enter the All Saints Church, never to emerge, but I have confirmed that they are seen in the States subsequently.’
“The red haired man seemed a little mad, in the crazy sense, but I use the word mad because he also seemed angier than he had been before. I was happy when he insisted that he had to go and disappeared from the lobby like the hotel staff had earlier, like he had never been there at all. I sat alone, lost in my own head, replaying everything in my mind and wondering if I could trust the word of this man who seemed to have been driven crazy by his need for Graham’s approval. But my curiosity was too strong to let any of it go and I left the hotel and walked the streets according to the directions of one of the members of the hotel staff. I nearly missed the All Saints Church. I was expecting the church to be in a stand-alone building, but it was on a street amidst multiple storey buildings. When I was standing at the gate entry to the courtyard of the church from the sidewalk, I noticed the religious adornments and wandered slowly inside. There were still tourists around visiting the church campus and taking pictures around the exterior of the main building. I approached the church entrance and ascended the stairs in a line of people that I realized had formed for the evening mass. The inside looked like it has been historically preserved from 1859, the year that the building was first constructed. I sat in a backrow while everyone else found seats. I didn’t know what I was looking for exactly, the red haired man hadn’t been able to give me any helpful description of Graham, so I just looked around and hoped that I would see someone with the undeniable look of a man with Graham’s bearing. As I watched everyone assemble for mass, I noticed a few people pass the entrance to the room where many people had gathered, and I slipped out to follow them. They took a hallway deep into the church building that was dimly lit like the hallway had transformed into an alleyway, but I followed at a distance, until I heard the far away sound of a knock on a door. I heard voices, someone asked a question that was hard to make out, and then came a response that was just as hard to understand, and then a door opened and closed a few seconds later. I inched down the dim hallway with my back against a wall, stepping as lightly as I could and turning my head quickly from side to side to survey the view behind and before me. Eventually I came to what felt like a heavy wooden door. I didn’t knock but I steadied my breathing to ensure that I was being as quiet as possible and pressed my ear to the door. I could hear what sounded like an assembled group and some people kept saying Sunday, like it was a name, not a day of the week. They talked about him with anticipation, as though they waited for him to emerge, and when the room erupted in loud cheering and applause, I assumed that he had entered and they were all happily celebrating his arrival. Then I heard the voice that I would hear again later when I tracked down Graham’s podcast. I heard him speak as the new man he had become, apparently a man named Sunday, for the first time.
“‘My life was taken from me. Reminiscent of oppressive government regimes that jail or kill dissident citizens. How could that happen in a country like America?’ Whoever sat as audience to Graham yelled out their agreement and clapped when he said something they liked, but never too loud to drown out Graham. I wondered if I removed my ear from the door, would his voice find a way through? There seemed to be no escaping it now that I had heard it. ‘The country that we read about in history books no longer exists and we are now embarrassing descendants of forefathers and mothers who died to build a nation where their children could know a life better than their own. And there is no denying that life is better today in some aspects than it was two, three hundred years ago, but all of our new technologies and conveniences come with drawbacks. Technology has allowed degenerate ideas to spread and propagate, and medical advancements have made science fiction into reality. If no one stops it, if no one is brave enough to stand up and demand an end to the madness, the world as we know it is on a collision course with disaster. The media talks about global warming, of course that’s just a ploy to try to force solar and wind energy, but there is an apocalypse waiting for us if we do not address the real threats to the world. Those threats are so big now, and there are so few willing to open their minds to the truth. There are too many brainwashed sheep who are glued to their screens, being force fed propaganda that only makes the rich richer. I know, I was part of that media machine and I was complicit in their lies, until I was fired for trying to be friendly to my female employees. It’s all a smokescreen, a distraction from the real horrors that threaten to consume us all. Unless we can topple it all first. If we can dismantle the corrupt American democracy, we can be the most prepared and able to survive the resulting chaos. We can be the ones to rebuild. And we have to be. We owe it to everyone we love. The future is bleak no matter what we do, but humans are resilient and some will survive to forge a new way. That must be us. It will be. We have united people all around the continental US, a true Continental Congress, under the leadership of great people who understand what it takes to survive the future. Soon our plans will rock the country, and then the entire world. I trust that you are all ready.’
“I listened to them cheer at something that is truly my worst nightmare and I walked away from the door and down the dim hallway that I had taken to get there. When I emerged into a part of the church that looked familiar, I sat on a bench pretending to read a church brochure and eying the dark entrance to the hallway that had led to the mysterious meeting. I knew that the people from the room behind the closed door would have to emerge from that dark entrance and I was prepared to wait as long as I was able to before someone asked me to leave. And sure enough, a file of men who looked like tourists began to issue from the entrance. I yelled his name, ‘Kurt Graham!’, hoping someone would step forward to find out who had called him. A man did approach me on the bench and he stood looking down at me. I know this will sound very crazy, but it is the truth, I cannot describe the face of the man that smiled down at me and shook my hand. I remember his eyes and his smile, I can tell you nothing else, nothing cogent anyway. The mental picture that I conjure when I think of the man who stood before me as Kurt Graham is strange, like an awe inspiring picture of the cosmos with eyes and a mouth floating over it.
“‘I recognize you,’ he said and I stood to speak with him. ‘You replaced that poor man, Chad Smith. He was a good man, but it was too hard to undo all those years of brainwashing, you know. That’s what killed him. He could have been something amazing for the movement, but now he is nothing but bones, no use to anyone. You did it to him, too, Ms. Charles. Instead of helping him, being there for him like only a woman could, you shoved him out of his entire life to prove something to yourself. I hope that his death was worth all the accolades. I will give you a word of warning, Ms. Charles, do not seek the man Kurt Graham ever again. He is dead to you, he is dead to the world. I am Sunday and I will rule the future. Run along, little one. Enjoy this life while you can.’
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