A Shift in Priorities - Sequel
- Thread starter rast
- Start date
As Arrix85 said, there are other ways to engage with the world. It goes against stereotypes for me, an American, to be the one to have to say this, but there are other countries in the world besides America.
There are other models the Germans could follow ITTL besides the USA from OTL.It's one thing for the Germans to say, "a war is politically non-viable." Even if evidence of British perfidy is discovered, the US is going to have the same problem.
What is difficult to believe is a continent trying to say, "nothing outside our borders matters." I mean Americans IOTL are arrogant, and catch a lot of shit about being ignorant of the world, but even the most ignorant of us has opinions and feelings about it. And I'm not just talking about the crazy war-mongers. Private citizens give billions each year to charities in countries they couldn't even point to on a map. Then there's cultural exchange (but then that's a self-criticism, because Rast has generally- and with constant graciousness- allowed me to explore that area, and I've been lax lately).
I guess what bugs me is that are more realistic ways to depict a Europe with an under-active foreign policy than to have seemingly the best brains of the continent truly believe that the world shouldn't be engaged with.
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People who are most afraid of their dreams convince themselves they don't dream at all.
(John Steinbeck)
John Steinbeck had spent a couple of thrilling and very variegated years on the islands of the Banda Sea. This prolonged sojourn had resulted in three books, one of them a national bestseller in the US for five weeks in a row. Now, he was on the way back to Australia. The Commonwealth of Australia had the grace to greet him over the barrels of a destroyer. Stop and abide inspection! They were searching for immigrants, illegal immigrants, meaning all kinds of Asians and Orientals. The vessel on board of which Steinbeck was travelling was a Dutch freighter. The Dutch, still masters of the western part of New Guinea, were known to make fun of their neighbours' xenophobia – and to often run a rig on them. In revenge, the Aussies were often stopping and searching Dutch ships. The undercurrent, however, was the spoilt Australian desire to own and control all of New Guinea. The damn Dutch had given away all their colonial possessions, except western New Guinea. And the stupid natives had repeatedly voted to remain under Dutch rule.
Steinbeck watched the Australian search party board the ship. The cargo steamer, the Zonnestraal, was destined for Darwin. Her crew was a potpourri of every race found on the islands of the Banda Sea. Only the ship's master, Antonius Maartens, called Ton, was a Dutch. Ton was standing alongside Steinbeck, smoking his pipe.
"I hope you don't have an urgent appointment in Darwin, John?" he asked. "Because you may well miss it. This is going to take some time."
An Australian officer was approaching, a smug young fellow in white summer uniform. He saluted.
"Sub-Lieutenant Watkins, Sir. Please show me your crew documents."
"Katsuo!" roared Ton. The third officer stepped out of the wheelhouse and bowed.
"This, Mister Watkins, is Mister Ishiwata, my third officer. He will show you everything you need to see."
Still grinning sardonically over the Aussie's disgusted expression, Ton turned to Steinbeck again.
"This will even take longer now, if only for chicanery. Hope you don't mind..."
"Me?" Steinbeck smiled. "Not at all. I have time. – Actually, this is as fine a chance to learn more about modern Australia as can happen. Wait until they discover the Negroes..."
Ton chuckled.
"You know why the Papuans have voted for continued Netherlands presence. They fear the Aussies, who would discriminate and suppress them like they do with their brethren in the eastern part. And the Aussies are keen to rule the whole island. Our portion of New Guinea is a thorn in their side."
"But they are doing business with Asia." mused Steinbeck. "I wonder how this fits together..."
"Of course, they are not opposed to earning money, John. – Yet, they consider Australia a white country. – The Aborigines are no citizens and will never be – and neither will the Papuans. – The Aussies are struggling to fend off the Yellow Peril since about one hundred years. They are what? Eight million people, living on a huge empty continent. And there are 550 million Chinese – and seventy million Japanese crouching on their overpopulated tiny islands – aching to settle Australia..."
"But only in the Aussies' mind." Steinbeck gobbed into the water below.
"Well, it's the imagination that motivates people. The Aussies know that they – or rather their ancestors – have forcibly taken possession of this continent. And that has happened not so terribly long ago. Therefore, others could arrive at implementing the same idea..."
On the main deck, Ishiwata and Watkins had begun mustering the crew. Watkins' armed sailors were surrounding the assembly.
Steinbeck gobbed again.
"Tell you something, Ton: the imagination is a weird thing. – Shouldn't I be lining up as well?"
"You're white, John, you are all right. Even if you were a criminal, they wouldn't stop you from entering Aussieland. After all, being a convict is a honourable tradition down yonder..."
(John Steinbeck)
John Steinbeck had spent a couple of thrilling and very variegated years on the islands of the Banda Sea. This prolonged sojourn had resulted in three books, one of them a national bestseller in the US for five weeks in a row. Now, he was on the way back to Australia. The Commonwealth of Australia had the grace to greet him over the barrels of a destroyer. Stop and abide inspection! They were searching for immigrants, illegal immigrants, meaning all kinds of Asians and Orientals. The vessel on board of which Steinbeck was travelling was a Dutch freighter. The Dutch, still masters of the western part of New Guinea, were known to make fun of their neighbours' xenophobia – and to often run a rig on them. In revenge, the Aussies were often stopping and searching Dutch ships. The undercurrent, however, was the spoilt Australian desire to own and control all of New Guinea. The damn Dutch had given away all their colonial possessions, except western New Guinea. And the stupid natives had repeatedly voted to remain under Dutch rule.
Steinbeck watched the Australian search party board the ship. The cargo steamer, the Zonnestraal, was destined for Darwin. Her crew was a potpourri of every race found on the islands of the Banda Sea. Only the ship's master, Antonius Maartens, called Ton, was a Dutch. Ton was standing alongside Steinbeck, smoking his pipe.
"I hope you don't have an urgent appointment in Darwin, John?" he asked. "Because you may well miss it. This is going to take some time."
An Australian officer was approaching, a smug young fellow in white summer uniform. He saluted.
"Sub-Lieutenant Watkins, Sir. Please show me your crew documents."
"Katsuo!" roared Ton. The third officer stepped out of the wheelhouse and bowed.
"This, Mister Watkins, is Mister Ishiwata, my third officer. He will show you everything you need to see."
Still grinning sardonically over the Aussie's disgusted expression, Ton turned to Steinbeck again.
"This will even take longer now, if only for chicanery. Hope you don't mind..."
"Me?" Steinbeck smiled. "Not at all. I have time. – Actually, this is as fine a chance to learn more about modern Australia as can happen. Wait until they discover the Negroes..."
Ton chuckled.
"You know why the Papuans have voted for continued Netherlands presence. They fear the Aussies, who would discriminate and suppress them like they do with their brethren in the eastern part. And the Aussies are keen to rule the whole island. Our portion of New Guinea is a thorn in their side."
"But they are doing business with Asia." mused Steinbeck. "I wonder how this fits together..."
"Of course, they are not opposed to earning money, John. – Yet, they consider Australia a white country. – The Aborigines are no citizens and will never be – and neither will the Papuans. – The Aussies are struggling to fend off the Yellow Peril since about one hundred years. They are what? Eight million people, living on a huge empty continent. And there are 550 million Chinese – and seventy million Japanese crouching on their overpopulated tiny islands – aching to settle Australia..."
"But only in the Aussies' mind." Steinbeck gobbed into the water below.
"Well, it's the imagination that motivates people. The Aussies know that they – or rather their ancestors – have forcibly taken possession of this continent. And that has happened not so terribly long ago. Therefore, others could arrive at implementing the same idea..."
On the main deck, Ishiwata and Watkins had begun mustering the crew. Watkins' armed sailors were surrounding the assembly.
Steinbeck gobbed again.
"Tell you something, Ton: the imagination is a weird thing. – Shouldn't I be lining up as well?"
"You're white, John, you are all right. Even if you were a criminal, they wouldn't stop you from entering Aussieland. After all, being a convict is a honourable tradition down yonder..."
Rast-approved. For a reminder about Melange, click here.
Fame and tranquility can never be bedfellows.
(Michel de Montaigne)
Noëlle Guiffray didn’t know how much longer she could dance with this banana. It’d been almost two hours and the damn thing (two meters tall and maybe 15 kilos) was getting heavy. It would’ve been easier if she wasn’t required to look so damn happy about dancing with the banana, but the director was insistent. The crazy Spaniard kept moving around the studio, getting every conceivable angle, and occasionally shouting out absurd instructions like, “Now your mind is infested with cotton butterflies, let me see it! No not just with your faces, use your bodies! Good, Noëlle, but remember to be happyhappyhappy!”
The rest of the band wasn’t doing much better. Diz, the trumpet player, was hanging from the roof inside the cage of a giant egg beater. T-Bone, the guitar player, was sitting on a chair with impossibly long legs, almost at the same height as Diz. Franco was on the drum kit, which was inside a compartment fitted out like a modern kitchen- except that everything (cabinets, appliances, countertops) was made of butter, and thus slowly melting. Finally, Emem was the lucky one, switching out his drums for the musical bow (which he sometimes played) and laying on his back in the middle of the studio with the bow in the air. Still, even he had to be getting tired of keeping his arm up.
That was Downbeat Loris, maybe the hottest band in the world right now. Two American refugees, last hailing from the WAU, one Nigerian and one Italian making up the percussion section, and Noëlle; their secret French weapon on vocals.
Their manager had pushed them into the photo shoot with this moustachioed lunatic after their latest record went into its 25th pressing in Duala. He felt the album could support another single, for which they needed a new album cover. They were at the end of their European tour, stopping in Rome for a two-month break before picking up again in Russia in spring. The madman with the camera was currently the toast of the city, which was flirting with a Surrealist revival (a rather obscure movement from the late 1920s that never really got off the ground) and he was seen as something of a “get” by their manager.
Eventually, their wild-eyed torturer released them into the Roman night, and they went to a nearby bar to wind down. The place was dark, which they preferred, and not too crowded. They hadn’t been there for ten minutes before their last hit, “Laudanum Gelato” came on the juke box. They smiled at each other and rolled their eyes.
Mélange music was all the rage these days, a true global phenomenon. All the cultural writers were taking note: the days of jazz were numbered. There were only two jazz records in the current European top ten, only four in the US, and none in South America (which was enjoying its own musical craze out of Brazil right now). The center of recording was still Duala in Middle Africa, with the WAU number two. But recording was becoming a global business, and mixed groups like Downbeat Loris- with members from three continents- were the norm. They’d recorded their first album in Duala, but for their second they’d chosen Miami, to help tap into that vibrant, “New World” feel.
They were conversing at a private table (in French; the official language of the band) when Noëlle started to get that feeling.
It was happening more and more these days. All of a sudden, the mood in the room would start to change. The volume would fluctuate rapidly. They’d catch one person with their mouth open, staring, and then two. If experience served, they wouldn’t have long to get the hell out of there. Emem was too busy debating handball with T-Bone to notice, but Noëlle tapped him on the shoulder and he took the hint.
“Allons-y”
They walked quickly to the front door and out onto the busy street. Bollocks, some of the patrons were following them.
There was a shout.
Then a scream.
The flash of a camera.
Then the screaming turned into a wave of yelling and screeching, as a hundred young people came pounding towards them, looks of rapture on their faces.
Downbeat Loris looked at each other, and ran.
Fame and tranquility can never be bedfellows.
(Michel de Montaigne)
Noëlle Guiffray didn’t know how much longer she could dance with this banana. It’d been almost two hours and the damn thing (two meters tall and maybe 15 kilos) was getting heavy. It would’ve been easier if she wasn’t required to look so damn happy about dancing with the banana, but the director was insistent. The crazy Spaniard kept moving around the studio, getting every conceivable angle, and occasionally shouting out absurd instructions like, “Now your mind is infested with cotton butterflies, let me see it! No not just with your faces, use your bodies! Good, Noëlle, but remember to be happyhappyhappy!”
The rest of the band wasn’t doing much better. Diz, the trumpet player, was hanging from the roof inside the cage of a giant egg beater. T-Bone, the guitar player, was sitting on a chair with impossibly long legs, almost at the same height as Diz. Franco was on the drum kit, which was inside a compartment fitted out like a modern kitchen- except that everything (cabinets, appliances, countertops) was made of butter, and thus slowly melting. Finally, Emem was the lucky one, switching out his drums for the musical bow (which he sometimes played) and laying on his back in the middle of the studio with the bow in the air. Still, even he had to be getting tired of keeping his arm up.
That was Downbeat Loris, maybe the hottest band in the world right now. Two American refugees, last hailing from the WAU, one Nigerian and one Italian making up the percussion section, and Noëlle; their secret French weapon on vocals.
Their manager had pushed them into the photo shoot with this moustachioed lunatic after their latest record went into its 25th pressing in Duala. He felt the album could support another single, for which they needed a new album cover. They were at the end of their European tour, stopping in Rome for a two-month break before picking up again in Russia in spring. The madman with the camera was currently the toast of the city, which was flirting with a Surrealist revival (a rather obscure movement from the late 1920s that never really got off the ground) and he was seen as something of a “get” by their manager.
Eventually, their wild-eyed torturer released them into the Roman night, and they went to a nearby bar to wind down. The place was dark, which they preferred, and not too crowded. They hadn’t been there for ten minutes before their last hit, “Laudanum Gelato” came on the juke box. They smiled at each other and rolled their eyes.
Mélange music was all the rage these days, a true global phenomenon. All the cultural writers were taking note: the days of jazz were numbered. There were only two jazz records in the current European top ten, only four in the US, and none in South America (which was enjoying its own musical craze out of Brazil right now). The center of recording was still Duala in Middle Africa, with the WAU number two. But recording was becoming a global business, and mixed groups like Downbeat Loris- with members from three continents- were the norm. They’d recorded their first album in Duala, but for their second they’d chosen Miami, to help tap into that vibrant, “New World” feel.
They were conversing at a private table (in French; the official language of the band) when Noëlle started to get that feeling.
It was happening more and more these days. All of a sudden, the mood in the room would start to change. The volume would fluctuate rapidly. They’d catch one person with their mouth open, staring, and then two. If experience served, they wouldn’t have long to get the hell out of there. Emem was too busy debating handball with T-Bone to notice, but Noëlle tapped him on the shoulder and he took the hint.
“Allons-y”
They walked quickly to the front door and out onto the busy street. Bollocks, some of the patrons were following them.
There was a shout.
Then a scream.
The flash of a camera.
Then the screaming turned into a wave of yelling and screeching, as a hundred young people came pounding towards them, looks of rapture on their faces.
Downbeat Loris looked at each other, and ran.
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So, I figured out who all of them are except Emem the Nigerian drummer and bassist. I could not read about Franco the Italian drummer though, French wiki. What is my prize, their record ripped through an interdimensional portal? Seriously, good job coming up with that band. I want to do something like this now. Is there a more hard-rock like side to melange? I'm surprised there was no piano for Downbeat Loris though.
Seriously, good job coming up with that band. I want to do something like this now. Is there a more hard-rock like side to melange? I'm surprised there was no piano for Downbeat Loris though.So, I figured out who all of them are except Emem the Nigerian drummer and bassist. I could not read about Franco the Italian drummer though, French wiki. What is my prize, their record ripped through an interdimensional portal?
Emem is fictional. I thought about using Shirley Bassey's dad, who was Nigerian and even from an ethnic group that uses musical bows. But then I read that he was a child rapist so...
Nothing hard rock or even electric about melange yet, but music evolves!
Well that is why I couldn't find him then.
Well I will just have to be the one who invents electric melange.
The moon, our own, earthly moon is bitterly lonely, because it is alone in the sky, always alone, and there is no one to turn to, no one to turn to it.
(Yevgeny Zamyatin)
The Kósmos–2 mission was launched on December 20th, 1950. NASA was bound and determined to have the edge on RRA and DELAG. A manned space station would beat everything the rivals had achieved hitherto. The orders received from Moscow were unambiguous: Russia had to have the lead in the space race.
In cold but sunny winter weather, the Nosítelnitsa–A launch vehicle carrying Kuryér–2 and Kósmos–2 made a textbook liftoff. This time, there was no RRA interference, as had been the case during the Kósmos–1 mission, a fact which – initially – was very much appreciated at Achinsk, but – very soon – regretted.
One was experiencing tremendous difficulties in manoeuvring the twin pack on a course that would allow linking Kósmos–1 with Kósmos–2 – and the whole world was watching and listening... – In fact, the entire procedure took embarrassing four days; only on December 24th did coupling finally succeed – and Poruchik Gennady Andreyevich Meshcherskiy could board the Kósmos tandem, while Poruchik Dmitriy Filatovich Dobrynin safely returned to earth with Kuryér–2.
[FONT="]Meshcherskiy's tour in space was scheduled to last three months. In March 1951, Kósmos–3 was planned to be added. Then, another space farer would relieve him. – And until then, it was hoped, one would have ironed out the issues with space navigation... [/FONT]
(Yevgeny Zamyatin)
The Kósmos–2 mission was launched on December 20th, 1950. NASA was bound and determined to have the edge on RRA and DELAG. A manned space station would beat everything the rivals had achieved hitherto. The orders received from Moscow were unambiguous: Russia had to have the lead in the space race.
In cold but sunny winter weather, the Nosítelnitsa–A launch vehicle carrying Kuryér–2 and Kósmos–2 made a textbook liftoff. This time, there was no RRA interference, as had been the case during the Kósmos–1 mission, a fact which – initially – was very much appreciated at Achinsk, but – very soon – regretted.
One was experiencing tremendous difficulties in manoeuvring the twin pack on a course that would allow linking Kósmos–1 with Kósmos–2 – and the whole world was watching and listening... – In fact, the entire procedure took embarrassing four days; only on December 24th did coupling finally succeed – and Poruchik Gennady Andreyevich Meshcherskiy could board the Kósmos tandem, while Poruchik Dmitriy Filatovich Dobrynin safely returned to earth with Kuryér–2.
[FONT="]Meshcherskiy's tour in space was scheduled to last three months. In March 1951, Kósmos–3 was planned to be added. Then, another space farer would relieve him. – And until then, it was hoped, one would have ironed out the issues with space navigation... [/FONT]
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They're going for quite the long-term duration mission record there. No-one has even really gathered experience with building a long-term spacecraft and they already plan to man their station permanently? That's really bold keeping in mind all the continuous operation malfunctions that cropped up for the historical space programs.
Their launch vehicle must be an impressive beast, too, for being able to lift what's essentially two capsules at once, at least one of which is maneuverable. I'd say they have clearly overtaken the RRA on almost every metric - including navigation achievements, since a successful rendezvous and docking is a major technological milestone.
Their launch vehicle must be an impressive beast, too, for being able to lift what's essentially two capsules at once, at least one of which is maneuverable. I'd say they have clearly overtaken the RRA on almost every metric - including navigation achievements, since a successful rendezvous and docking is a major technological milestone.
Only the unknown frightens men. But once a man has faced the unknown, that terror becomes the known.
(Antoine de Saint–Exupery)
With bland face, Poruchik Gennady Andreyevich Meshcherskiy was looking around in the realm that would be his home for the next three months. Each Kósmos element basically constituted a cylinder 7.5 metres long with an external diameter of 2.5 metres. Kósmos–1 was furnished as living and working quarter. Kósmos–2 was equipped to serve as central node of the future space station, which was going to look like a cross.
Meshcherskiy had been chosen because he was a navy man. He had submarine experience, was thus accustomed to sojourn in a very confined environment. Of course, he had volunteered for the mission; all NASA space flight aspirants were volunteers. If he survived the ordeal, he would be a national hero – and a made man. Yes, submarines were a good training ambiance for space station dwellers, but they were lacking zero gravity...
Well, it truly was odd and disconcerting to float in midair, but at least the surrounds were so narrow that he always could be in contact with some fixed object. Excreting was an adventure, the loo looked like a gadget taken from a chemical plant. Getting rid of the stuff was another gest: he was supposed to shoot it into the atmosphere, where it should burn up. For that purpose, Kósmos–1 was armed – with a small catapult. Hopefully, remote control of the widget didn't break down.
Energy was another issue. Piles of rechargeable batteries were supplying electricity. Kósmos–1 was carrying an experimental cupric oxide solar cell arrangement, which Meshcherskiy still had to unfold, that was supposed to do the recharging. If that should fail – and the boffins had talked about it as if it was due to fail – he had his rat race, which was a generator at the same time. A mere two hours in the running wheel per day were enough to juice up the batteries to full load; and he had to do the physical workouts anyway...
Diet would be boring: tube lunch throughout, very alimentative – but hardly savoury. Oh, there were plants in Kósmos–2, but these were supposed to eat the carbon dioxide Meshcherskiy was exhaling. At least, water was not going to be a problem, the tanks held enough of it for twice the tour lying ahead of him. Radio was working without a hitch. He had the windows to look down on earth – or up to the moon and the stars. And he had that long list of experiments the boffins wanted him to execute...
(Antoine de Saint–Exupery)
With bland face, Poruchik Gennady Andreyevich Meshcherskiy was looking around in the realm that would be his home for the next three months. Each Kósmos element basically constituted a cylinder 7.5 metres long with an external diameter of 2.5 metres. Kósmos–1 was furnished as living and working quarter. Kósmos–2 was equipped to serve as central node of the future space station, which was going to look like a cross.
Meshcherskiy had been chosen because he was a navy man. He had submarine experience, was thus accustomed to sojourn in a very confined environment. Of course, he had volunteered for the mission; all NASA space flight aspirants were volunteers. If he survived the ordeal, he would be a national hero – and a made man. Yes, submarines were a good training ambiance for space station dwellers, but they were lacking zero gravity...
Well, it truly was odd and disconcerting to float in midair, but at least the surrounds were so narrow that he always could be in contact with some fixed object. Excreting was an adventure, the loo looked like a gadget taken from a chemical plant. Getting rid of the stuff was another gest: he was supposed to shoot it into the atmosphere, where it should burn up. For that purpose, Kósmos–1 was armed – with a small catapult. Hopefully, remote control of the widget didn't break down.
Energy was another issue. Piles of rechargeable batteries were supplying electricity. Kósmos–1 was carrying an experimental cupric oxide solar cell arrangement, which Meshcherskiy still had to unfold, that was supposed to do the recharging. If that should fail – and the boffins had talked about it as if it was due to fail – he had his rat race, which was a generator at the same time. A mere two hours in the running wheel per day were enough to juice up the batteries to full load; and he had to do the physical workouts anyway...
Diet would be boring: tube lunch throughout, very alimentative – but hardly savoury. Oh, there were plants in Kósmos–2, but these were supposed to eat the carbon dioxide Meshcherskiy was exhaling. At least, water was not going to be a problem, the tanks held enough of it for twice the tour lying ahead of him. Radio was working without a hitch. He had the windows to look down on earth – or up to the moon and the stars. And he had that long list of experiments the boffins wanted him to execute...
Rast-approved:
Don’t Mess with Texas
(Anonymous)
When massive protests shut down oil production in Texas, everyone was caught by surprise- except for the Texans. Refineries, depots, highways, and railroads were blocked all across the state. The supply chain collapsed instantly, as every train and even many truckers were waylaid by small groups of protesters. (Many of the truckers were in on the protest, or had been paid off.)
Texas provided more than 50% of the nation’s oil. Although that need had ebbed to 20-year lows after The Troubles and only slowly recovered since, the US still had a modern economy. Even if car ownership hovered around 20%, petroleum products were being used more than ever these days: in plastics, industrial lubricants, even the asphalt used to pave most modern roads. The economic downturn was instantly felt nationwide.
Officially, the industrial giants of the Texas oil business were opposed to the protest. But their statements of condemnation were bland and vague; one might easily forget what they were condemning. And they certainly didn’t do much to stop them. They even encouraged state officials not to provoke the protesters with any rash action, calling for dialogue and understanding. And the state government seemed to be of exactly the same mind about the thing.
The national government desired to intervene, but they were stymied by restrictions on federal actions against its citizens. They couldn’t deploy troops domestically, and were forced to rely on local law enforcement in the absence of criminal charges against the protesters. Intervention would require the declaration of a state of emergency, but the mechanism hadn't been tested since the Chicago reforms; many backbenchers were wary to test it out on a peaceful protest. The railroads and highways were technically under federal control, and federal marshals were able to clear the protesters off of the lines themselves (all protesters left peacefully). But the yards and stations were not government property, and not a train moved out of the state. Trucks with full loads began to leave, but those soon ran out and couldn't be refilled.
Of course everyone realized what was going on- the Texans were pissed at the government. Congress had just changed the way tax dollars were allotted to the states. The majority of states- those that maintained robust state budgets based on state-level taxes- wouldn’t notice much of a difference. But for the 12 states that had gutted their state budgets, relying on the federal government to pay for everything- including Texas- things were about to get rough.
The law wouldn’t fully take effect for years, and was weighted on the back-end to help all states transition to a more financially sustainable model. But that didn’t seem to matter. Three states (Montana, North Dakota, and Wyoming) had preemptively declared bankruptcy. Nine states were reporting significant loss of businesses and population, even just two months after the law was changed (and before literally *any* change in federal spending had taken place). While the Liberal Party (the architect of the change) was surprised by the magnitude of the effects, the party remained convinced of the necessity of reform. States were done surviving solely off the federal teat, as far as they were concerned.
Texas itself had a fairly robust economy, and could probably weather the storm with minimal increases in state taxes. But it was the need for reform- one more decree from Congress on high- that made them furious.
For decades, Texas had been diverging from the rest of the United States in many ways. The state’s economic model relied more heavily on raw materials and agricultural exports than any other state. Politically, Texas had gone through less reform than the rest of the country during and in the wake of The Troubles. And culturally, huge gulfs had opened up between the Lone Star State and the rest of the country.
The state remained a bastion of pre-Chicago notions about government and society. The wave of volunteerism and community-building that now defined US culture barely registered in Texas. Communities remained segregated and unregulated. Housing remained cheap, slapdash, and unplanned. While only 20% of Americans owned a car nationally, 53% of Texans did. There were few passenger rail links and no commuter rail systems. The only reason the cities had subways was because of direct federal funding. As the center of US oil production, gas was kept artificially cheap in the state. Where a liter cost an average of 80 cents nationally, the price was usually under 30 cents in Texas (and also unique in the country, was usually still sold in gallons).
And Texas remained the only place in the nation that elected state-level officials on a 2- and 4-year cycle, rather than 3 and 6. These frequent “off-year” elections meant lower turnout, meaning more committed fringe parties frequently benefited. Texas was a bastion of the right-wing America First Party, which maintained overlapping association with the Texas First Party at the state level. The TFP maintained a robust (but still theoretical) support for an independent Texas. This notion had remained a constant thread in state politics from the 1840s onwards, advancing and receding at various times over the years. “Independence” grew to become the second choice of a majority of Texans during The Troubles, just behind “a return to the status quo.” Of course post-Chicago was nothing like the status quo they had in mind. Feelings had only grown more sore in the intervening years.
In short, Texas was unhappy with the state of national affairs. This was true for the average worker, for the political elite, and for the insular business community, dominated by oil barons, ranchers, and the big agriculturalists (whose farms could be larger than some small eastern states).
It took the better part of a month before oil production and distribution were back to normal levels, with the protesters abandoning their targets in stages- suspiciously orderly stages.
Meanwhile, the government was criticized for its lack of a response. They had simply never anticipated this kind of sabotage from within their own country. The economy would remain in a recession for the next three quarters. Many were angry; some called for new elections. While Majority Leader Roosevelt took some flak for allowing this to happen, most people took it out on the Liberals. As an untested party attempting its first major political maneuver, they came across looking juvenile and unready. Party Leader Henry Cabot Lodge was facing an internal challenge from the more right-wing faction in his party, led by Arkansas congressman Robert Penn Warren.
In the aftermath of the protests, steps were taken to make sure Texas couldn’t use oil as a weapon in the future. The federal government began building facilities to set up a strategic petroleum reserve at various sites around the country. The goal was to store enough oil to keep the economy running for two months, if necessary. Patton also opened a dialogue with the Mexican government over the possibility of increased oil imports. Relations between the two countries were stronger than ever, and negotiations proceeded smoothly. The new-found respect between the US and the WAU led to a certain rapprochement with Venezuela (another petrol state), facilitated by Musa G'Norebbe.
Some of the ringleaders of the protests were arrested on various charges, and even more were sued in civil court for loss of income and the like. But very little could be proved in the way of criminal conspiracy, despite the efforts of all domestic US intelligence agencies. The TFP ran a tight ship and no one was talking. No law enforcement agency had deemed the TFP a threat in the past, so there were no undercover agents to pull out and question. Agents were being embedded now, but as always that process took time.
Beyond that, various proposals were debated to either punish Texas or force them to integrate more fully with the nation. But constitutional scholars shot down every suggestion. States' Rights had actually been somewhat strengthened by the Chicago Constitution, even if most states (unlike Texas) returned most of those powers to the Feds out of economic necessity in the 1940s. Without actual evidence of a conspiracy, what happened in Texas was...strangely just able to happen, and Congress couldn't do anything to stop it. One state had held the nation hostage, and did serious harm to its economy.
Barring a change at the constitutional level, it could happen again at any time...
Don’t Mess with Texas
(Anonymous)
When massive protests shut down oil production in Texas, everyone was caught by surprise- except for the Texans. Refineries, depots, highways, and railroads were blocked all across the state. The supply chain collapsed instantly, as every train and even many truckers were waylaid by small groups of protesters. (Many of the truckers were in on the protest, or had been paid off.)
Texas provided more than 50% of the nation’s oil. Although that need had ebbed to 20-year lows after The Troubles and only slowly recovered since, the US still had a modern economy. Even if car ownership hovered around 20%, petroleum products were being used more than ever these days: in plastics, industrial lubricants, even the asphalt used to pave most modern roads. The economic downturn was instantly felt nationwide.
Officially, the industrial giants of the Texas oil business were opposed to the protest. But their statements of condemnation were bland and vague; one might easily forget what they were condemning. And they certainly didn’t do much to stop them. They even encouraged state officials not to provoke the protesters with any rash action, calling for dialogue and understanding. And the state government seemed to be of exactly the same mind about the thing.
The national government desired to intervene, but they were stymied by restrictions on federal actions against its citizens. They couldn’t deploy troops domestically, and were forced to rely on local law enforcement in the absence of criminal charges against the protesters. Intervention would require the declaration of a state of emergency, but the mechanism hadn't been tested since the Chicago reforms; many backbenchers were wary to test it out on a peaceful protest. The railroads and highways were technically under federal control, and federal marshals were able to clear the protesters off of the lines themselves (all protesters left peacefully). But the yards and stations were not government property, and not a train moved out of the state. Trucks with full loads began to leave, but those soon ran out and couldn't be refilled.
Of course everyone realized what was going on- the Texans were pissed at the government. Congress had just changed the way tax dollars were allotted to the states. The majority of states- those that maintained robust state budgets based on state-level taxes- wouldn’t notice much of a difference. But for the 12 states that had gutted their state budgets, relying on the federal government to pay for everything- including Texas- things were about to get rough.
The law wouldn’t fully take effect for years, and was weighted on the back-end to help all states transition to a more financially sustainable model. But that didn’t seem to matter. Three states (Montana, North Dakota, and Wyoming) had preemptively declared bankruptcy. Nine states were reporting significant loss of businesses and population, even just two months after the law was changed (and before literally *any* change in federal spending had taken place). While the Liberal Party (the architect of the change) was surprised by the magnitude of the effects, the party remained convinced of the necessity of reform. States were done surviving solely off the federal teat, as far as they were concerned.
Texas itself had a fairly robust economy, and could probably weather the storm with minimal increases in state taxes. But it was the need for reform- one more decree from Congress on high- that made them furious.
For decades, Texas had been diverging from the rest of the United States in many ways. The state’s economic model relied more heavily on raw materials and agricultural exports than any other state. Politically, Texas had gone through less reform than the rest of the country during and in the wake of The Troubles. And culturally, huge gulfs had opened up between the Lone Star State and the rest of the country.
The state remained a bastion of pre-Chicago notions about government and society. The wave of volunteerism and community-building that now defined US culture barely registered in Texas. Communities remained segregated and unregulated. Housing remained cheap, slapdash, and unplanned. While only 20% of Americans owned a car nationally, 53% of Texans did. There were few passenger rail links and no commuter rail systems. The only reason the cities had subways was because of direct federal funding. As the center of US oil production, gas was kept artificially cheap in the state. Where a liter cost an average of 80 cents nationally, the price was usually under 30 cents in Texas (and also unique in the country, was usually still sold in gallons).
And Texas remained the only place in the nation that elected state-level officials on a 2- and 4-year cycle, rather than 3 and 6. These frequent “off-year” elections meant lower turnout, meaning more committed fringe parties frequently benefited. Texas was a bastion of the right-wing America First Party, which maintained overlapping association with the Texas First Party at the state level. The TFP maintained a robust (but still theoretical) support for an independent Texas. This notion had remained a constant thread in state politics from the 1840s onwards, advancing and receding at various times over the years. “Independence” grew to become the second choice of a majority of Texans during The Troubles, just behind “a return to the status quo.” Of course post-Chicago was nothing like the status quo they had in mind. Feelings had only grown more sore in the intervening years.
In short, Texas was unhappy with the state of national affairs. This was true for the average worker, for the political elite, and for the insular business community, dominated by oil barons, ranchers, and the big agriculturalists (whose farms could be larger than some small eastern states).
It took the better part of a month before oil production and distribution were back to normal levels, with the protesters abandoning their targets in stages- suspiciously orderly stages.
Meanwhile, the government was criticized for its lack of a response. They had simply never anticipated this kind of sabotage from within their own country. The economy would remain in a recession for the next three quarters. Many were angry; some called for new elections. While Majority Leader Roosevelt took some flak for allowing this to happen, most people took it out on the Liberals. As an untested party attempting its first major political maneuver, they came across looking juvenile and unready. Party Leader Henry Cabot Lodge was facing an internal challenge from the more right-wing faction in his party, led by Arkansas congressman Robert Penn Warren.
In the aftermath of the protests, steps were taken to make sure Texas couldn’t use oil as a weapon in the future. The federal government began building facilities to set up a strategic petroleum reserve at various sites around the country. The goal was to store enough oil to keep the economy running for two months, if necessary. Patton also opened a dialogue with the Mexican government over the possibility of increased oil imports. Relations between the two countries were stronger than ever, and negotiations proceeded smoothly. The new-found respect between the US and the WAU led to a certain rapprochement with Venezuela (another petrol state), facilitated by Musa G'Norebbe.
Some of the ringleaders of the protests were arrested on various charges, and even more were sued in civil court for loss of income and the like. But very little could be proved in the way of criminal conspiracy, despite the efforts of all domestic US intelligence agencies. The TFP ran a tight ship and no one was talking. No law enforcement agency had deemed the TFP a threat in the past, so there were no undercover agents to pull out and question. Agents were being embedded now, but as always that process took time.
Beyond that, various proposals were debated to either punish Texas or force them to integrate more fully with the nation. But constitutional scholars shot down every suggestion. States' Rights had actually been somewhat strengthened by the Chicago Constitution, even if most states (unlike Texas) returned most of those powers to the Feds out of economic necessity in the 1940s. Without actual evidence of a conspiracy, what happened in Texas was...strangely just able to happen, and Congress couldn't do anything to stop it. One state had held the nation hostage, and did serious harm to its economy.
Barring a change at the constitutional level, it could happen again at any time...
I'm suspicious to where this may lead.
But this makes me wonder what is going on in my state, SC? I assume it is heavily dependent on federal funding and remains a large agricultural exporter.
But this makes me wonder what is going on in my state, SC? I assume it is heavily dependent on federal funding and remains a large agricultural exporter.
Actually, the Opt-Outs are mostly Midwestern/mountain west states.
You probably wouldn't recognize South Carolina today. The same could be said for much of the South. Industry had been picking up across the region IOTL even before The Great War, and ITTL it sped up after the war. This was mainly confined to coastal regions, and a number of cities grew well in excess of OTL along the coast. Big, first-tier cities include New Orleans, Biloxi, Mobile (maybe the biggest over OTL), Pensacola, Jacksonville, Savannah, Charleston, Wilmington NC, and the whole of the Hampton Roads area. The new elites of this economy come from the north and west, and don't mix socially with the remaining southern aristocracy.
Then, as you may remember, the South was particularly hard-hit by The Troubles, and subject to a large amount of "atrocity guilt" in the aftermath. There was also a lot of population movement, a lot of changes. The inland South is basically lily-white now, the entire black population having fled to the coast or the Appalachians.
South Carolina's coastal culture is similar to the rest of the coastal South, with a resurgence of Creole culture being the most prominent feature. There are poor, rich, and middle-class Creoles; poor, rich, and middle-class whites, and the same for blacks. Middle-class Creoles, whites, and blacks are more inclined to socialize together than with poor or rich members of their own race. It's a weird dynamic that results in a lot of social policing and stereotypes, but it does lead to a much more clear-cut political order based on class (and a lot less violence).
Inland, South Carolina is similar to other southern states and does indeed remain highly agricultural. The fleeing African American agricultural laborers were replaced in two ways:
1) By machinery
2) By Midwesterners fleeing the Dust Bowl
In the case of the former, you've got the old landholding elite maintaining their status and politics, and about 2/3rds of the farmland (much of which was bought in the '20s as small-holding whites moved to the new southern cities and their better prospects). The South has some of the most highly-mechanized farmland in the country.
In the case of the latter, you do have some Midwesterners who end up working for the old-guard elites, but the majority bring their radical FLP politics with them and set up multi-family co-ops.
So South Carolina (and much of the South) has much more varied politics than OTL. There are natural constituencies for most parties, and the end result is a state legislature that's only a bit more conservative than the national average.
(Note: this is all only semi-canon. It's all been approved in broad strokes by rast in the past, but he can veto anything he likes.)
I live in the Piedmont up-state(Spartanburg co. to be exact) so it would be as you stated. It is mostly peaches and tobacco but a number of other things are also grown. There are some cattle and pig farming as well. Cotton and textiles were the dominant industry until probably the 1980's with a steady decline many years before then OTL. I figured politically the state would in an unusual turn become one of the most liberal southern states ITTL. But the highly varied political playgroung makes sense. I see my family more than likely flirting with the FLP. I however probably will not exist ITTL but it is nice to hear my home is recovering quite well. Speaking of recovery, I never made that Hemp for Recovery post for you. I suppose that it is not too late to make a retrospective post. Hemp would likely also be heavily grown throughout SC and the South. Tobacco farmers may start growing it's cousin, cannabis. Anyway thanks for the secondary update on my homestate.
I can see Texas causing more trouble in the future, but even with the new political set up in the USA they can only go so far. The stockpiling and purchasing from outside countries is now in place (at least the plans for purchasing) so another "strike" will be blunted. The federal government can close the ports of Texas, and has the navy to do it (and the navy can be on the high seas not US territory). The problem with Texas is the problem of every economy based on raw materials or agriculture - somebody has to buy your stuff. If Texas isn't selling oil to the rest of the USA, and if they can't export it, they go broke pretty quickly. Sure they produce enough food to prevent starvation, but if the federal government cuts off various payments that Texas is living off of and nobody is buying Texas oil it won't take long for the bulk of the population to be hurting. The spare parts for those 53% who own cars come from outside of Texas, and pretty soon the money to get new spark plugs will be hard to come by. No reason for the feds to truly blockade Texas, let the cash drain out just keep them from shipping oil by sea. The clamor to resume normal sales will happen soon enough.
If, on the other hand, Texas goes nuts and declares independence, the the federal government can and will step in directly - even the "new" USA considers the issue of secession to have been decided in 1861-65. Red Albion could choose to "help" Texas but really why - not common ideology, and the UK does not want to go to war with the USA over Texas. To transpose some modern fears to this TL, the UK could sell a nuke or two to Texas (if they could somehow get it there) for lots of cash or promise of cheap oil, but I can see the USA really getting pissed about that and the rest of the world not happy about it either (especially as the UK's biowar activities become more obvious).
If, on the other hand, Texas goes nuts and declares independence, the the federal government can and will step in directly - even the "new" USA considers the issue of secession to have been decided in 1861-65. Red Albion could choose to "help" Texas but really why - not common ideology, and the UK does not want to go to war with the USA over Texas. To transpose some modern fears to this TL, the UK could sell a nuke or two to Texas (if they could somehow get it there) for lots of cash or promise of cheap oil, but I can see the USA really getting pissed about that and the rest of the world not happy about it either (especially as the UK's biowar activities become more obvious).
It's definitely an evolving situation, and your read on the extremes seems accurate to me. I don't think the government would survive if something similar happened again and they failed to react, so some kind of confrontation is likely.
Jumping straight to independence, well...there are a lot of stages between separatism and independence, many of which can be seen on view around the globe today. I will just throw out there for consideration: at the end of the day, what do you do in a democracy if a breakup enters the conversation? There are a ton of examples from OTL and TTL of different ways to handle things. Texas certainly hasn't stepped off on the right foot here, if that's their ultimate goal.
No comment on British help just yet, but don't forget there are a lot of players around the globe these days.
It's true. Though as it says in the post, they don't really need to do much to stay in the black. While it's not going to recruit the majority of firms, whose workers are now used to generous benefits, there are those who are always going to find appeal in (what is now called) The Old American Dream.