Defunct

To My Loved Ones in the states of Kansei, Visayas, and Iceland









This book is dedicated to the lost of an American hero: Muhammad Ali and Mitsumasa Yonai



















[1] Muhammad Ali was a soldier during the height of the Cold War

[2] In OTL, Mitsumasa Yonai was a Prime Minister of Imperial Japan during World War Two. Because the US annexed Japan long before that in this Timeline, Mr. Yonai grew up being an American. He was a hell of a lieutenant but died against fighting the socialist Chinese during the Chinese War

[3] Yes, the Chinese War was similar to the OTL Korean War with the Division of the socialist China and the Chinese republicans along the Yangtze River. :)
 
Last edited:
all-women.jpg


Advert: Armadyne: The faces of a New America



I N T R O D U C T I O N

As I sit here, at the autumn bloom of 2013 CE, have in my very own hands the very fabric of bearing majestically and astonishingly essay for the University of Central Manhattan here in the beautiful new city of Mega-New York. The digitized notes from my flexible E-pad have given rise of my new essay of the ideology of American Social-Democracy. I look up with my head at the same linear trajectory towards the university entrance, bewildered but at the same time excited to enter the university for my first time. Even the best of the best must report their own professional merit through a digital report of their knowledge allocated through the years of Grade and High School. I professionalized myself through the subject of Political-Economics and its convergence with American government ideology for the past century and a half, after the post conditions of the Global Third War and the reformation of the U.S.C.R.

I turned on my pad by setting my right hand on the screen, scanning my thumb signature. As the screen animated from a deathless slumber, I scrolled through the Apps and icons to my report of my essay: The History of the Ideology of American Social-Democracy. After setting a smile slapped on the surface of my face, I stood up, now walking to the bright future ahead of me, the bright reflective glass doors that awaits me for my future. I couldn’t resist the urge to breath, even though its essential for my survival, I am just very anxious for this final moment. Years of hard labor through school, and studying the test have paid off. It was time for me to enter the stage as an Intellectual. The brightest light out there in society is standing in front of me as I speak.

The University stands on what was Central Park, now a large section of urban farm towers, in-vitro meat production facilities, indoor hydroponics plant, and massive apartments stretching thousands of feet high into the airways of the birds. The Eco-Liberal Revolution of the mid to late twentieth century has sought great changes to the city. Massive public transits running on electricity instead of petrol scroll pass through streets and avenues above using magnetic levitation and a rail system supported to be above the street level. Mega-New York now supports more than 50 million people thanks to increase in public transportation and rail system of the United States that prevented the extreme rise of Suburbia and the rise of Ecological consciousness that promotes compactness and self-sustainability in major American cities such as the miniaturisation of mobile vehicles, the obsoleteness of petrol based fuels, manufacturing collaboration between the human and the machine, and a bountiful ubiquitous use of technology with the environment.

In the assumption of my successes, I have, for along time, walked into a room with a proud professional look like no other professor, psychologists, mathematicians, and other creative minds out there presenting an oration or presentation to a group of audience. It was similar to that of my entrance, a proud stance and a walking pace at a legitimately slow but delicate grace of a butterfly. I swung my arms back and forth, holding my pad at the other, as the glass doors automatically opened sideways to let me in.

The entire lobby was enormous; a gigantic piece of modern architecture if I say so myself. The very framework of the architecture of the University was as magnificent as the construction of the Eiffel Tower in the nineteenth century, well, before its destruction of the tower by pro-communist anarchists during the early twentieth century communist revolutions of Europe. The long stair cases surrounding the counter were butterflied to perfection with lights of white rays seemingly scattered across the bright yellow steps of opportunity. The giant glass walls and cylinder concrete frame of the structure was stripped of imperfection and painted with a spectrum of lights and holographic imagery. An advert from a holographic screen popped up with an image of the University - “University of Central Manhattan, an elegance of Intellectuals to create a perfect future for mankind” was its slogan. Another advert that was so familiar was the Federal adverts - “Report any suspicious activity against Eurasian terrorists” along with a pair of eyes that pierced your skin like a bullet. A grand spectrum of human-skin tones, genders, and humanoids dotted the white granite floor. From men wearing Google glasses, to women bearing a unique color of style and intelligence, to transgenders and homosexuals scrolling along their pads and sitting on a bench mindlessly listening to music in their earpieces, to trans-humans walking about with a confidential smile glowing across their face, and even AI automatons walking around in such a humanoid way they nearly resembles that of humans. The room was buzzing with activities. I smiled in glee for the awaiting future.

This book I’m holding in front of me deals with the evolution of the American geo-political society and the ideology of American Individualism to American Social Collaborationism from the American Revolution to the Empire of Social-Democratic Liberty today. This book shall detail how the conservativism of Americans from the aftermath of the American Revolution and the Liberation Wars of C.E. 1812 transitions to a beacon of liberty and equality with a pro-socialist and leftist provisions of a first world hyperpower of the world by the twentieth century. Alongside with the totalitarian dictatorship of the United Socialist Councils Republics (U.S.C.R.), the United States of America and the U.S.C.R. had developed together as the binary hyperpowers of the World Society.

Allocating the North and South American continents, Easternmost Russian continents, Northern Manchuria, Chosen (Korea), Nippon (Japan), Oceania, Australasia, Indonesia, Formosa (Taiwan Island), and the Philippines into one authority of Washington DC took the entire span of the nineteenth century and the earliest years of the twentieth century in order for the United States of America to spread its American Ideology and liberal policies, and remove the oligarchic or tyrannical rule of the lands' previous jurisdiction. The society's bourgeois and socialist policies help shape the framework of the republic today.

The conception of American History and the Social Democracy and Liberal ideals as set forward as implemented provisions and laws are known to create and equal environment of opportunity and sets the average American family in nearly par with one another to create an ideal social-capitalist world. The idea of how American conservatism transitions to American Liberal Socialism can be difficult to comprehend if one does not take the time to explain such concepts. Whilst the aspect may be difficult to explain, the following historical text shall give you a more promising idea of the American Ideology as it interspersed, intermixed, and ascend to a more perfect state to satisfy the liberal-socialist stance of the United States of America.

What I’ve had in my hands, shall greatly improve my image of for the American society along with over two billion others in the US. The United States, nowadays, supports population growth and massive influx of immigration to promote progressiveness and economic growth. Cities are expanded vertically and construction of high rise apartments reaching over one hundred stories are very ubiquitous in Mega-New York, Los Angeles Metro, Montréal Metro, Rio de Janeiro, México Metro, Tokyo Metro, Chicago Metro, São Paulo Metro, Bogota Metro, and Sydney Metro. Growth and Progressiveness are very much encourage to promote growth in cities and to create and ever more large asset of the American workers. That demographic trend that seemed to be effecting first world nations such as that of the U.S.C.R. seemed to be in a process of decline but with American policies of demographic growth and a massive urge for immigration has lead the nation in full swing away from that demographic transition and has reach fertility rates of near 3 and immigration rates in the millions per year. Progress and growth is in par with ecological and self-sustainability through the means of resource-availability and urban self-generation in food and manufacturing tangible goods and services at the expense of the large and vastness of Suburbia. Of course there are suburbs but cities are where growth and progress are concentrated. As one would put it: EVERYTHING MUST GO UP!

I held my paper solely close to my chest as I stood in front of the counter as I get ready to submit it to the University. I stared at the pages once more after I tapped the bell. A few pages of skipping and highlighting in my head of my notes and I get ready.

A man, I assume he’s Hispanic American, came up to me with a clipboard in his hand and a pen on the other. He smiled as he set out his hand in front of me. I gave him my ID.

“Welcome, Riley Jääskeläinen, to the University of Central Manhattan. I assume you have an assignment to submit to Professor Cheng?”

“Yes, of course. Um, do you know where he is, though,” I asked.

“I think he’s at a meeting today with the other professors today. Have a seat will you and I’ll inform Mr. Cheng about your arrival,” he smiled once more and left to tend with the dozens of people lost or entering the university.

I sat to the nearest seat possible near the entrance door and set my E-pad on my lap, as I slowly tap my way to boredom. A few minutes gone by and I felt the urge to snap. I really wanted to submit my assignment to the professor so bad and know if I’ve gotten in or not.

“Riley, is that you,” I shifted my head to the right to find an African American friend of mine.

“Devin, I haven’t seen you in a while now,” I smiled a bit.

Devin has been living in the suburbs for awhile somewhere in the middle of the state of Keewatin for his grandparents after his high school graduation. Like many American suburbs, his life were simple and less nostalgic unlike here in the big urban centres. The American suburban home is fit with gardens that grow food for the family which is a new trend similar to fashion. Riding bikes and using the public transit is as common as riding an electric car in a highway - which is very ubiquitous. Localisation of the food source was a great fashion trend during the slow and steady growth of the suburbs and small towns which gave way to a move in self-sufficiency in towns and suburbs. This also gave way for the lessening use of the farmlands of the North American Midwest and the South American fertile areas or the East American fertile areas, and this gave way to a more on the emphasis of reorganising the forest and trees once lost for farming crops and food. Life in the suburbs became peaceful with trees plotted in every metre of sidewalk, bike lanes as wide as roads for cars and busses, and people walking around with determination and an upbeat smile. Some people, like in cities, walk around outside just for the heck of it and have a walk around buying stuff in gazebos and bazaars or having a stroll in the park and greet people with an emphasis of a smile. Suburbs, though not as common, became a paradigm of a community of a calm and steady life fit with a liberal sense of a community.

Devin gave me a handshake and sat down next to me. A childhood spent in the calmer state of Athabaska and Regina has him being a guy into nature and animals. In a calm and respectable tone, he said as he folded his hands, “Well, I didn’t came here to see the great places of this city if you haven’t noticed.” He shuffled his tie, “I’m gonna join you.”

“You’re coming to the university, here?” My eyes widened. I would love to have an old mate with me. I wouldn’t fancy my chances of a new friendship again in a new environment, anyway.

“Well, you know that I want to have a career towards the preservation of the Amazonian rainforest in the Amazon Territories. I decided that in order to pursue that dream, I’m gonna go to college, particularly this one, with you,” Devin smiled.

I shut my eyes in awestruck, “That’s brilliant! But how did you get in?”

“Well, you know colleges only accept people by his or her merit of professionalism. So, I showed them how I treated animals for two weeks and my professionalism in plant preservation and my knowledge of the dynamics of animal nourishment for another week. And I also have to fill out an essay.”

I nodded in enthusiasm, “Well, I have to that, too. Well, not all the part about the knowledge of plant and animal preservation. What I had to do was pretty much a full on report on the fundamental dynamics of American Social-Democracy over time. I practically wrote a book, see,” I showed him my book in my E-pad. All seventy pages of hard core basics of American economics over time.

“Blimey, that’s a lot! All I had to do was a full ten pages,” Devin’s eyes showed a well awed faced. “I’m just dumbfounded by all this. How many pages is this ‘book’ you say?” he chuckled a bit.

“About seventy-eight given a page or two,” I smiled in a boastful manner. I couldn’t really help myself, but I was getting a degree in Political Economics and International Affairs so, of course, it would be legitimate enough to write such a boastful report on the history of American Ideologies. Though recently, with the waning detente of the U.S.C.R.-American Cold War thanks to the waning influence of the U.S.C.R. itself, America has been more and more isolationist in terms of intervening in world affairs. (e.g. America didn’t interfere in the Darfur Civil War or the War between the Republic of Rhondesië and the Federal Union of Betsjoenland or even the end of the dictatorial-style governments of the Kaap die Good Hoop and the New Republic of Oranje-Vrijstaal.) The U.S. didn't need to be in such of a bully anymore thanks to the waning U.S.C.R. Plus, why would the U.S. need to intervene. The benefits of intervening in world affairs such as wars and civil wars are pretty much slim. Most of the world affairs nowadays are civil wars between the so called “Transitioning” governments as the Eastern African and Middle East governments along with a few European ones tries to deal with the neo-capitalist uprisings as the waning U.S.C.R. influence cause a great deal of shift in support of the Americans. Though they’re receiving a few aid, the neo-capitalist will not be receiving full support of the United States. The US wants to let history play out by itself. The US would like to see how it fare as the history books wouldn’t be tainted with the intervention of the United States. The US isn’t fully isolating. We still receive loads and loads of immigrants from around the world and is surpassing ten million per year - all thanks to the civil disorders of the Old World. The US isn’t really just intervening in affairs that doesn’t affect them in anyway. They could, but I don’t think the US wouldn't want to be seen as a big bully anyways.

“Brilliant, Riley, just brilliant,” Both of us chuckled off a few seconds.

“So, Devin, did you talk to your mum about going to this college yet? She really wanted you to join her cause” I asked.

“Well, for starters, she hasn’t really answered back to me yet. She’s been working with the neo-capitalist groups in the People’s Republic of Northern France, the Syndicalist Republic of England and Wales, and the Worker’s Republic of Holland, lately. I don’t know,” Devin started to sigh a bit as he sludged against the chair.

“Did your mum died?” I was afraid to ask.

“No, no. I, just, hadn’t heard from her in over two months. She’s a political activist, you know. She really dislikes totalitarian socialism that promotes racism and sexism upon its policies. Even I don’t even think that’s really socialism since it’s policies are promoting those on the far-right. She thinks that the US model of a Social-Democracy fairs much better, but she doesn’t like the US isolationism towards the “Transitioning” countries.”

“Well, I hope your mum would be fine,” I smiled to reassure him.

“I hope so, too,” he nodded, “Well, I’ve got to go, now. I have to submit my assignment sheets. It’s due right now.”

“Good Luck!” I cried as he left with a wave of good-byes before he turned and left for the hallways of his future. It’s sort of sad to see him leave all of a sudden. At least, now, we can visit each others’ dorm rooms if we found ourselves not bunking in together.

Well, as I stood there, queuing for my future, I began to ponder all the things the US could’ve been. It’s as if I’ve been drenched in hours of American history - in which I’ve have in reality, but I almost felt compelled even more on the true dynamics of what is truly being American is and should be. A pro-socialist? A pro-republic? Both? All I have is my E-pad and my brain to start this path of success I’ve paved myself into. I just only hope that the future I’ll paved for myself and this nation would be in a more benign way...


[1] Immigration to the US is high in recent years because of the recent massive neo-capitalist movements in Afro-Eurasia and the collapsing influence of the U.S.C.R. So pretty much between 1990s and 2010s are the years of massive civil disorders in Eastern and Southern Africa, Western Europe, and the Middle East as neo-capitalism spreads like a virus.

[2] Fewer American suburbs = Larger cities (along with a immigration)

[3] Yes, you may scream "UTOPIA!" out loud.

[4] Yes, Britishness is present. No, I just kid. I put more Britishness to satisfy Britons and Amerikaans out there.
 
Last edited:
1_7_7_6_by_RafkinsWarning.jpg





Chapter 1: Insurgence


Idea of a Revolution

North America. Land covered and layered with tints of vegetation far west of the Appalachia, whilst lakes dot the cold tundra of the lands north of the Saint Lawrence. Both Indigenous and Colonial settlers congregate and trade along the Gulf Stream Coast, Mississippi, and other fertile and fruitful regions. So vast are the North American plateaus that they filled every horizon with sun blazed grass and bison roaming afar. So colourful are the Appalachian hills that they glazed in unison to the sun, never changing its tints but always swaying with the wind. So fruitful are the lakes that they resemble that of the Garden of Eden. North America, what many European men call a new beginning. Endless stretches of primeval forests and rivers - known to have riches at the bottom of them - blanketed the East Coast of North America. The abundant sunburst of streams and rivers of the Mississippi basin holds opportunity for fur traders, farmers, and travellers. A vineyard of beauty such one would experience is astonishing, majestically encouraging, and blindly inspirational with the bright fluorescent colours of nature bombard every particle of your retina. Colours sprout out in every corner of your eye, as if every colour of the spectrum moved in unison in an omni directional point towards the eye, significantly expanding the awe-inspiring view. The Great Lakes holds the perfect area for colonials looking to settle down and start anew. The giants of the Rockies hold ventures of many pioneers wanting to explore the reaches of the continent. Even the Death Valley (which ironically has a stable population of scientists and researchers) has the potential to one day be harnessing the world's largest Solar Farms and Sol-Towers (Towers that go up from a short five-hundred foot tower to a thousand-foot high construction. The towers harness energy from the sun and the wind, and disperse it throughout a very large region) of the Great Republic. Or even the banks and hills of Manhattan Island that will manifest into a bustling mega-city that will be expanding vertically, omni directionally outwards, and even downwards to the bedrock to create the world's largest metro urban area with over 50 million people (Mega-New York has a lot of boroughs thanks to the virus known as urbanisation that lead to skyscrapers in - not only Manhattan - Northern New Jersey, Brooklyn, Queens, much of western Long Island, and other surrounding regions). North America, such a great beauty of nature.

The vast nature of land of North America was and had been inhabited by the Indigenous for as long as they knew. The number of the Indigenous numbered in the millions, possibly even rivalled the Europeans. But it seemed that the days of peace and prosperity of the vast American plains were to be stalled. The arrival of Columbus had decimated much of the Indigenous populations from diseases, wars, and conquests under the holy name of God. Still, life was quite peaceful. People still have to deal with conflicts once in awhile. The Quebecois province, later a bountiful state of the United States, still have to deal with the battles of cold long blizzards and, later, the British surge of settlers coming from all sides. The New York colony still has to deal with the northern natives that are not as assimilated as the Iroquois themselves. Plagues and diseases still prowl, hidden underneath all the fruitfulness of nature. But many people after say, the early eighteenth century, were quite happy living off the lands, picking up tobacco from the large tobacco fields, cutting down trees for wood, singing old folk songs with a group of fellow men, and all sorts of happy sensible memories that may as well remove those conflicts the colonials have to endure. From small wars with the natives or European powers in the North American theatre, to the blessed days of the peaceful suppers, to the mournful grey nights of death, Americans, both indigenous and colonials, endured many struggles and experienced so much by the past few centuries. But one of the most profound conflicts of North America would have to be the American Revolution.

The birth of the United States and the insurgence of American Ideology could be such a complex aspect. The catalyst of the American Revolution is so complex that there is usually not just one catalyst, but a series of them, each pressuring the colonials to a brink of discontent, and later rebellion. The world many colonials grew up with, prior to the war during the hikes of American Independence, was a struggle to deal with. The British Parliament was and had been agitating the colonist with taxes and laws without the consent of the colonial people. The deluge of unnecessary acts have prolonged dissatisfied the American colonists who was in turn satisfied with the laissez faire administrations and provisions and fairly self-governance prior to the Seven Years’ War. New laws from Parliament, such as the Townsend Acts, and especially the Currency Act of 1764 which was the first sign of American independence from Britain, has escalated to a conceived point of agitation. The fight for universal philosophy of law and constitutional rights that the government must protect and initiate for the people was ubiquitous amongst a third of the population of the thirteen original colonists and continued onward ‘till the revolution. The side of American individualism against the monarchic oppressions of the British Crown has been for so long a burden. The spiteful fortnights of war between the two stages has sought only a shoe polish worth in many at first since, of course, a war between a small group of insurgence against the might of the Lion would’ve been suicide, but the resolution of the war has changed many perspective and re-evaluate the potential of the Americans. And to continue on this historical journey, the Americans continue to surprise many with their innovations and rugged hopes; the birth of America can be possible.

*****

Historians continue to come to ponder about the cause of such hatred to the British: Why did the American people thought the British as the antagonist. What catalyst(s) provoked such hatred to the British in the first place? To question that, many would have to peel through the cracks of the American history and a prolonged psychology of American rugged individualism and its indignant to oppressions from Britain and see the depths and layers of such aspects of the Americans. It is still bothersome to how this profound American psychology develops but also intriguing to spectate over a long period of time. From the Great Revolution to the Louisiana Purchase to the Wars for the liberation of Latin American, American psychology, intertwined with its rugged expansionism, changed and mingled throughout the late 18th century and early 19th century.

For a period of time, many colonials watched outside as the years pass by with increasing redcoats guarding the streets and taking residence inside their homes. The boundless endless periods of time has passed with little to no intervention from the almighty Great Britain, it is as if the mother itself no longer cares for her child. But as the years pass by, the world’s political ball game began precipitating into a profound rainfall of events, forever astonishing and breath-taking. The principles of uncertainty can be compared to the unprecedented phenomenons that ever change the potential trajectory. Each choice made by one person, or by the resolution of one event, or by even a speck of intervention can lead to a wholesome new universe where a new trajectory births from the past. One could say events after events that lead to the victory of America has been made through the luck of one person through another. And the fate of hands chooses those who are worthy to ascend or be fragmented with defeat. With all this gimmicks of alternation to, let say: history, in particular in American history; one small alteration would often lead to another change and another, much like a domino effect; until the change would be significant enough as to cause a major event in history. One could say the American Revolution is one example. Events that lead to bigger events could’ve cause the American Revolution.

As a prelude to the war for independence, there has been, for some time, have sunder from the Loyal Ideology to Britain and have begun to neglect the British Crown which will - in time - create the first steps for the revolution itself. The attrition of loyalty to the British Crown began after the French-Indian War. The colonists prior to the French-Indian War was conceived to the fact of the Ideology that the American way of life was much laissez faire, and that we were nothing less, free from much of the oppressions of the British Crown. When England established the colonies, either through a series of wars and conflicts with the indigenous population and buying land such as New York from the Dutch, it began with salutary neglect. The English themselves rarely intervened with colonial business. It was during this time that the colonies began gradually to think and act independently of England. After a period of free will, the Seven Year’s war broke out in the Great Lakes front, the Mississippi Delta theatre, and the Ohio River Valley which became a battle between the French and the British Crown since these regions mentioned endowed fur tradings and access to the frontier west. Britain finally ended the war, winning the Province of Quebec, Acadia, and Nova Scotia and New France east of the Mississippi River while Spain receives the Louisiana territory west of the Mississippi River. Britain now faced new threats of war with the indigenes as American colonist free willingly ventured west of the Appalachian Mountains and American smugglers trading illegally with the Spaniards and the French. The British also have a tremendous amount of debt to nations that willingly aided the British during the Seven Year's war. Troubles poured thick with the British desperate needs. Thus with this quandary, the Parliament began to issue a deluge of laws to eliminate these problems without causing another war with the Indigenes, which will be costly, let alone debt free. What precipitates from the British Parliament will have unprecedented outcomes that may or may not go against the British itself. In this case, the fate of the outcome had gone ripe to the British perspective. The Parliament proposed increase of military intervention to the American colonies and creating the Proclamation of 1763 in hopes of subduing the further escalating conflicts. With the British debt coming into question, the British began to strictly imposed laws and acts without much effort. Further grumbling to the British Crown escalated. The British Parliament also passed a series of taxes to cut the amount of the exponentially increasing debt, though each repealed, caused the colonies to protest, demanding to consult with the Parliament and wanted to be allowed to allocate taxes and laws on their own. Their interpretations of these so called “unjustified” acts were much different than the British’s. Eventually, the colonies were in a state of protest from the British Crown as the colonists’ psychological condition is fixated against the British that they had absolutely improper representation to the British government. By 1770, the discontent of the colonies was evident. In other words, the British sudden act of intervention had triggered an unlawful response in America that lead to the independence it would soon gain.

The Quebec Act of 1774-

Stimulated the Preservation of Quebec’s institutions and given the Ohio River Valley to Quebec but the Ohio River Valley is though granted to only the natives to protect such future wars with the indigenous population. Free Catholic practices are granted, though.


Result: A major political taunting against the British and an outcry for insurgency against the British oppressions in the thirteen colonies followed after the provision has been established. Quebec becomes content at first but Catholic soldiers become aggressive with Protestant soldiers forcing them to take the Protestant Oath and a bit disappointed by the granted land to the natives. Catholics in Montreal and Quebec felt controversial about this act generating bit sympathy to the colonies. This would soon help play out for the War for Canada during the Revolution.


boston_massacre.jpg


Boston Massacre
March 5, 1770


The Bloody Massacre of King Street was and foremost a trigger to the bullet of American insurgence. The further discontent towards the British government passing certain acts that the vigilantes sought as “unfair” was brought forth to the heart of the American cause of Independence. The Townsend, Currency, and other acts had slowly agitated the American patience and generally lead to an increase motivation to renew the laissez faire regime it once was etched to American ideologies. Additionally, the Americans have become more and more violent; with outbreaks of mobs and protests lead to an increase of American discontent to the government. Some of the colonists did not feel to be obligated to be subject to these unnecessary acts without the consent with the British Parliament and felt as if they were not representatives properly to the British regime. Additionally, the psychological pre-condition associated with the cause of war was present in the Colonist discontent regarding the numerous Acts bearing economic consequences. Like all revolutions, the American one, was legitimately historically inevitable. The rise of American insurrectionism against the British had lead many to believe for a cause, a cause for self-governance and a rise to justice. But the arrestment of American insurgence was controversial or maybe understandable to the American psychological condition prior to the war itself. The growing American insurgence had been triggered by many catalysts, the assumption of the British antagonism was one, while the economic damage of the Seven Years’ war was another. And the escalation of anti-British sentiment ideologies continued to grow as it had been etched up during the brawl in the twelfth of March in the year seventeen hundred and seventy from the year of our Lord; the Bloody Massacre of King Street found its backdrop against a dispute between a colonialist and British soldiers whom was at their guards.

According to the Pennsylvanian Magazine issue, the ‘massacre’ started after the ninth hour after the chimes of carillons from the arch tower, nearly the time of the rising of the sun. The four youth vigilantes, named Edward Archibald, William Merchant, Edward’s brother, Francis Archibald, and John Leech, came down Cornhill together, and at the vicinity of Doctor Loring's corner. After a misunderstanding between Edward Gerrish and Captain Lieutenant John Goldfinch, Private White mishandled the dispute by striking Gerrish on the head with a snowball. A conflict of some sort had further brushed the countenances of the men and escalated into a disgusting scene. Resulting from this, a growing crowd of American colonialist gathered taunting the scene with disgust and a barrel of hatred. Captain Preston began pushing the crowd as if on crowd control. Amongst the crowd, one of Preston’s men was struck down with vigorous reactions amongst others. With his nerves at the breaking point, the Captain ordered them to fire at will, and the soldiers willingly fired. And with more snow balls coming, with a growing yells and screams from the crowd; he again told the men to fire away with a breath scream of a merciless man, and of course, they did. One of the soldiers whose name is not mentioned then fired, and a townsman with a cudgel struck him over the hands with bloody murder that the soldier dropped his redlock to the ground and shed blood to his hands and aimed a bullet accidentally at the Captain's forehead. A hodgepodge of hatred and anti-British moods spiralled out of control as if conquering armies marching through the lands of the thirteen colonies. The crowd was seen responding to this as a ‘massacre’, drawing upon this scene with intense details of anti-British propaganda as if the redcoats were slouching with a loud blow and with their guns pointing at the innocent with no mercy of any sort. The result was three martyrs lying there, dead, with limbs smuggled upon to their soles of their empty bodies, arms wrapped to huddle their life cold shells. Two more of them vigilantes lay with their hands pointing to the heavens, for salvation not to be in vain. The portrayal from the news issue was very dramatic against the British sentiment with a very profound sense of anti-British propaganda thus creating a trigger in some assumptions. The massacre was the final straw (to most American Bostonians) and with that comes the rising deluge of insurrection in Boston. About twenty or so more peoples were against to the soldiers that they stood up in front and persuaded others to rise up. As a political pre-condition, the murder of Americans displayed in the conflict between the Colonialists and their Imperial masters triggered a breaking point for the growing discontent of the American peoples. Under characteristics, the violence witnessed in Boston fulfilled one of the four characteristics of revolution and had toppled the inevitable. With the illustration delivering a mass sense of hatred, it would seem as if the British were seen as the antagonist, creating even more discontent. The word ‘massacre’ used by the American artists was not described as genocide such as it would, but rather a virtue of merciless predator with no sense to show pity towards unarmed civilians. The victims of the Boston massacre were portrayed as vigilantes who cannot tolerate the subjugation from the British Crown. In fact, many artists that were not witnesses had yet to believe that the British were merciless to any civilised person and that the oppressed peoples must never be in jurisdiction to the British Crown any longer. Had the portrayal been resolved to the correct plot, the Americans may not as well been confined to anti-British propaganda.

The result of American propaganda utterly revolted some of the American public in the thirteen colonies and erected sympathies in Quebec and Nova Scotia. The Bloody Massacre Event, as some may call it, had stimulated even a Patriotic stance against the British Crown even as far as Montreal and Quebec. American Propaganda may have given a better chance of an insurrection than historians might’ve thought. The thought soon roused as many rallied along with their fist in the air, more so than the Bolsheviks and Deutsch Workers’ Revolutions.


*****​


boston-tea-party-luis-arcas-brauner.jpg


Down With Tyranny



Boston, Massachusetts, British North America
December 1773



-------The Boston Tea Party Event:


Excerpt from: The Tea Party Event by Milton Meltzer
(c) 1987
Printed in the HarperCollins Children’s Books Division, United States of America
HarperCollins Publishers, New York, NY 10022



I [1] was just a mere commoner among the streets of a virgin Boston. With a shining crisp air wavering the day’s cold afternoons, Mrs. Davis was gathering the rest of her children whom suddenly were frolicking nearby, playing with sticks and stones and the animals of the wild. Birds chirp their songs while trees rustled with the wind; it all seemed too perfect to comprehend. Through the crowded streets near the ship-filled wharfs, I leaned over near a fruit stand, smelling the odor through my nostrils of one of the apples, as if knowing the taste of its juicy interior through its odor. A bite off of it and I was off, off to a wharf where an event shall take place that will trigger an enormous chain of reaction into the future. The event that I shall witness through my very own eyes shall show the first steps of fighting off the British.

That night was a night to remember in Boston. Peoples from carpenters to Loyalists to children stared through the crisped smell of Griffin’s wharf. I stood, openly gazing at the prowling winds and the orchestra of conversations ahead. I asked a friend, named Robert Sessions, what was happening.

“I heard from Mr. Davis that these men would be throwing the tea overboard,” he said in such a small whisper tone, as if to hide the facts from the British guards. Of course he was correct spot on. These men, whom I first presumed as Indians, are now in a position against the British themselves. This event later lay the foundations for the upcoming revolts that would follow. This event would later be named, the Tea Party Event.

“Why are these men throwing away such a redundant thing as tea,” I chuckled to myself as I stood a bit closer by a few steps to see a less vague view of these men.

Mr. Davis set a finger at the mount of his chin, pondering a bit, and with a quick witty stroke, he said, “Well, these men are declaring their independence of the Tea Act.”

I, again, questioned him, “But tea has never been so cheaper. It’s practically two shillings a pound.”

“Yes, of course, but the Tea Act provision was imposed without proper representation of the colonists. These men are either tea smugglers or rebels; those who came to the event since the Act made smuggling tea from the Dutch become obsolete, those men who came to the event as an act of resistance against the Act because it violated them since the Act was imposed without consent of the colonists.”

I can’t help but noticed the men. How illogical to do such a thing as to capture a ship just to dump tea. But then again, they did it under a justified statement. They threw the tea overboard with a purpose, and not because of some crazy act of foolishness. I stood there looking at him one more time, smiling wider than Mrs. Davis’s son on a Sunday, and I asked him if he sympathised them.

“Well, son, I only sympathised justice against injustice, ethicality against human abuse, collaboration and consent against institutional divisions and surreptitiousness... I believe what is right, not from a piece of paper. That is what I truly and proudly sympathised. With a few years with these repetitive events and acts from Parliament, what do you sympathise?” I stared at him confusingly. I didn’t know the correct answer to his question. But as I stared at the event ahead of my cloud-infested mind, I began to ponder...

The Boston Tea Party incident occurred at the aftermath of the conference with Governor Hutchinson. George and other associates dressed as Indians with a small hatchet upon their grips, hands forth ready to show the Brits what they're up against. Their lives were at stake but would be worth forever more stand as a martyr to others like them. Their Tomahawk style clothing would be a disguised for the event. The associates dressed as Indians walked through the streets in the eerie spectral night, as if they were here to seek justice without the honour of vanity through the public. And through the darkness shadowing all around, the Indian men began boarding the wharf and was admitted into the ship. The commander of one of the groups, told the others where they would stand their positions at set point and where they would be ready to initiate the plan. They had no intentions of destroying the ships, just the cargo though. Standing at precise point according to their plan, the ‘Indian men’ stood for a long period of time. I saw them, with a few half-dozen or so peoples spectating what seemed to them as Indians boarding onto one of the ships, presumably boarding for a trip to London.

Once the guards were distracted to some offset quandary, the Indian commanders told their respective groups to open up the crates with their hatchets, take out all the chest of tea and dumped them overboard in hopes of showing their vigilance to the Regulars. The men cut open the chest of teas so the water would enter and flood the tea itself without much insulation. The men took about three hours to dump all the tea chest overboard. One man after another would bring the chest forward to another man whom roped the crate with the others, opened, emptied, and thrown over to the rustling sea. They, then, hastily snuck to local residence of refuge without the guards ever finding out until morning. Through the time spent, they threw the tea chest overboard; several sneaky poor commoners had snuck to the vicinity of the wharf and stole some of the tea. Of course, the Captain O'Connor caught the Indian men, but they escaped in a rapid speed chase through the docks with shock expression all over. The teas that were still floating elsewhere of the shore, were beaten down with oars and such from the sympathetic Patriots. The event was of course an outrage towards the British Parliament, which proves the destined British military involvement in the colonies.

I was not appointed to this tea event since I just a mere spectator, but that does not mean I’m a Loyalist, but just a sympathizer to the rising attitude of the mass. I was just a young man, but also a man who won’t stand being a spectator no longer. I called after Robert whom was having a conversation about the event and asked if he, too, wanted to join the cause. I was only disappointed that he was just a mere spectator, since he, too, has a life to tend and tame over, a future to unfold and create; he has no time for such events like these.


And at last, the tolerance of King George broke into impatience and sent troops to the thirteen colonies, mainly concentrated in Boston, and shut Boston ports. This action aggravated the Boston citizens onto an outraged, creating further sympathy from the other thirteen colonies. The years rolled by with hikes and hassles with the colonies and the British government and only to continue to escalate. It continued from mobs, espionage, to instant battles after the Battle of Lexington and Concord.

I thought to myself for a long period of time after the Battle of Lexington. And I thought to myself that I wanted, not just be a Patriot, but a contributor. I wanted to feel a cause that will change my life for the better. To be worth more than just an ordinary sympathizer boycotting goods or fighting off redcoat guards or even delivering secret news to the Patriots. I wanted to be involved, to fight, to enter the battlefields and see what is like to fight for liberty in a man’s war. To be able to take full vengeance. To be able to fight for what I’ve believe in myself into. To be a Patriot of honour.

[1]- A friend of Robert Sessions who later enlisted himself to the Cogswell's Regiment of Militia by the winter of 1775


*****



d614600b2b7537165d0bd4eac6734286-d5h4am6.png


"“A general dissolution of principles and manners will more surely overthrow the liberties of America than the whole force of the common enemy. Whilst the people are virtuous they cannot be subdued; but when once they lose their virtue then will be ready to surrender their liberties to the first external or internal invader.” - Samuel Adams




The War of the North
Beginning of 1774


The Battle of Bunker Hill in Charlestown, Massachusetts was endowed as a major moral boost for the Americans and was forever more, the beginning of the insurrection. It was a clear day in Massachusetts, visibility nearly clear; a perfect battle ground. The Americans had lost the hill to the mighty Loyalist forces at first, but the colonials know that even if they lost, the British had been stabbed hard in the back. It was the first battle that endowed a chance that even the mighty British can be beaten. The first battle was with newly inexperienced troops with no real experience in warfare. Against highly-trained, elitely equipped Regulars, the odds are against the Americans at most. The American regiments were newly formed, a few from the Battle of Concord, and the rest are volunteers who enlisted themselves as the new brave men for the soldiers of Colonel William Prescott, Colonel John Stark, and General Israel Putnam, some of greatest American generals of the battles who fought during the French and Indian War. With their experienced from the battles against the French and the Indigenes, the generals stood firm against the enemy that once was the crown they stood forth with years ago. The British army stood almighty, with better equipment, artillery, weapons, and a larger size army; even the most oblivious man wouldn’t dare rebel against the Regulars.


Even if the odds were against them, the British Army were greatly overwhelmed by the American Colonel’s strategic tactics. The British Army ultimately prevailed, the colonists greatly surprised many as they greatly repelled two major assaults and dented a large amount of casualties upon the British army. Almost half of about two-thousand British soldiers and artillery were counted as casualties to the Americans. Though they lost, the Americans showed that their vigilance cannot be diminished and they will show within the battle lines. During the first battle, something of a miracle happened that led to a survival of one very important man, Joseph Warren. During the evacuation, Lieutenant Lord Rawdon aimed his musket high, towards Joseph’s forehead. The bullet that was aimed so fairly accurate, was misguided none other by his fellow mates. And thus the bullet instead struck a tree branch nearest to Joseph’s forehead. A near hit, and thus Joseph Warren swore he will avenge himself for whoever dared pull a string of hair out of place. Joseph stood up, head held straight to his so called killer, held out his gun pointed at his forehead, winched at the ever sight of him, and pulled the trigger. Blood stained the grass below the man along with a fallen gun and a dead body, laying besides almost a thousand more of the British army. Joseph Warren stood in front of the body, knowing that the bullet that could’ve killed him - only missed a few centimetres - would’ve caused his instant death. He would forever remember this moment.

Well, American propaganda has definitely played a role into depicting a British antagonist. The debate over the issue of the battle was sought as a morale boost of Americans (Though with some setbacks such as lives lost and other relevant reasons). With the retreat of the British from Bunker Hill had boosted American pride and morale and increased their hope for war. Even though it was an early stage of the American Revolution where Congress still wanted negotiations with Parliament, there are now talks of independence as early as 1775. Even though the Americans lost, morality remains as high as ever so as long the British causality remain high to show the might of the colonists against the Lion herself.

A few British spies had been in espionage missions and have already started to prepare for the upcoming Quebec invasion. All across the colonies, adverts and papers are nailed upon walls and poles to aid the amount of enlistment against the Loyal Regulars. The mass of the people lined up to enlist themselves into the army, navy, or militia, having some being a victim of British oppression. As new enlisted men line up to the training halls of the Colonial forts, many slowly earned their ranks up over the months. Men like Robert Sessions during the Battle of New York and other brave, young, and able men fighting the Loyalists. Whilst the colonies prepare for defence along the Gulf Stream Coast, many generals took their pens and laid it upon the map of the north for an expedition northwards. It’s time for the colonies to divert from a defensive stance, to an offensive stance. A proud member of the new colonial stance against the Loyalist, Brigadier General Richard Montgomery had made his campaign, seizing Fort Saint Jean and Fort Chambly during the fall of 1775. He set his pen down the map, drawing up plans for a way to stab the British presence in America. Moving his pen around, he set it upon one familiar dot: the city of Quebec. In September 4, 1775, Major-General Philip Schuyler crossed the boundary between the colonies and southern Canada, and wrote a letter to the Canadians for support. With large sympathies, some French Canadians began supporting the colonies with war efforts, supplies, enlistments, and other causes. James Levingston, a jovial sympathetic Canadian, lead a group of Patriotic Canadians to Fort Saint Jean and met with Philips’s troops along with Colonel Ethan Allen’s army of Vermont and Major John Brown of Pittsfield's (a resident of Massachusetts, but has recently pondered to move for the sake of his family) soldiers to capture the fort swiftly. After the short victory battle, Livingston was operating with a small party of men on Île Sainte-Thérèse, between Fort Chambly and Fort Saint-Jean in order to cut off reinforcements. Livingston was able to ration ammunition, food, water supply, and weapons to his army as supplies run short. He was, though convinced he started the war, but was able to pass that as one soldier drew a convincing personal oration to the army and convinced Livingston that the they either must rise from the ashes, or fall without dignity. The next day, the British sent out two bateaux from Fort Chambly with dangerous results. As the British neared Île Sainte-Thérèse, Livingston’s soldiers shot them with musket fired upon the bateaux and were able to kill or wounded enough for them to retreat back at Île Sainte-Thérèse. The retreating boats were blasted from the surface and the carnage of the bateaux remained the remnants of them. Fort Chambly was captured; it’s large stone walls unable to match with the advancing Americans. Allen’s and Brown’s men returned to Schuyler’s camp after the fierce battles. Schuyler sent out Allen and Brown for a second time in an attempt to capture Fort Saint Jean in its wake. By the seventh of September, Brown, and his new assets of Canadian volunteers with hope against the British and growing morale support, intercepted supplies heading for Fort Saint-Jean, leaving the fort short of stock and isolated from any reinforcements and British aid. The next day, Allen and Livingston captured two British espionage agents at Saint-Denis which later held two key points for capturing St. Lawrence towns. Soon after, Allen and Brown occupied key towns on the Saint-Lawrence which gained even more Canadian supporters, mainly French Canadians. New assets to the armies are being supplied with guns, though many were civilians, the new assets were given small commands and barricades. Brown and Allen began their mini-campaigns to the Saint Lawrence River, capturing trade towns and key supply points from the British, gaining Canadian sympathy along the way and resupplying the troops with supplies. Meanwhile, the American army, now led by Brigadier-General Richard Montgomery, lay siege to Fort Saint-Jean using two gun battery of 12 pounders that sliced British vessels and naval defences adjacent to the fort, a mortar battery division shelling the fort, east battery with two 4-pounders that aid to take out the British naval supremacy, and Canadian supplements which provided American insurgents with needed supplies. Whilst this occurred in Fort Saint Jean, Livingston, with a force mounting at around 350 soldiers, continued operations on the Richelieu and other neighbouring towns and forts. Livingston’s chief responsibilities were to protect Montgomery's northern flank and to help stop any breakout attempt from Fort Saint-Jean. So with that set in, the supporting but poorly-armed Canadians were given better weapons and positions to hold off any rebellions in captured points thanks to Joseph’s army aiming towards Quebec as well. Some supporting Canadians were given ammunition, supplies, and weapons but others were having to savage for them. The Loyalist Canadians, though many retreated back to Quebec, weren’t able to get too far with the help of sympathetic Canadian spies constantly giving away information of important events in espionage missions prior to the Battle of Quebec. The Loyal Canadians that flee were all too few and either captured, or escaped in few numbers.

The American vigilantes and supporting Canadian rebels began to lay siege Fort Saint Jean whilst protecting the American supply line. Infantrymen, consisting of sailors and marines, and the infantry artillery men, would defend the American supply line south of the fort. The third infantry line would cut the British supply line around the fort, thus cutting replenishment for the British. Whilst the American rebels tried to maintain a stable supply line from the colonies, Schuyler waited with continued rations until new weaponry and supplies were brought within a few days. Schuyler and his army soon succumb to disease, and so Brigadier General Richard Montgomery took in line and led the rest of the army to advancement. The Americans were on the move again. The tide for freedom has once again aroused from the shadows it once manifested from.

The Americans seized forts upward pass Fort Saint Jean with James Livingston ahead of Schuyler’s troops. Guy Carleton, from the province of Quebec, a proud Loyalist for that matter, created his headquarters in Montreal after the Americans set their foot in Provincial Quebecois soil. The Battle of Montreal was a quick victory for the Americans while Guy Carleton made his narrow escape to Quebec to fortify the city. With Montreal done for, the Americans head east following the adjacent Saint Lawrence River in what seems like miles up ahead. Rough terrain and the following winter kept the soldiers dubious for the outcome of the following battle, but the morale boost from Quebec even clouded their doubts. That doubts, though, will be tested as the battle for Canadian supremacy nears.


The Battle for Quebec
September-December 1775



Quebec was a well-fortified city thanks to Guy Carleton's quick and well-thought decisions. After the fall of Montreal, Carleton have made an exodus to Quebec, fleeing the captured city of Montreal which was now occupied by General Wooster’s troops soon afterwards.

The Battle of Quebec was the most profound war that would divert American vigilance towards the British to the Province of Quebec. The Battle of Quebec would initiate whether or not the American insurrection drive of Independency would escalate northwards due Quebec even given the divisive form of ethnicity and Catholic religion of French-speaking Canadians to mar the drive. In September of 1775, the Continental Army began moving to the vicinity of Quebec City, with the goal of liberating it from British military control under Guy Carleton. Brigadier General Richard Montgomery led one force up Lake Champlain. He soon captured Montreal in November with a sizable army of Canadian and Americans after the Battle of Fort Saint Jean and the capture of Fort Ticonderoga by Benedict Arnold and Ethan Allen. Arnold set one foot on top of a hill, looking forwards to a distant city near a lustful yet cold icy river. The vast dead lands were snow covered and the winds were cold enough to ice a man within hours without a needed fire. His senses tell him that the drive to Quebec would not be easy. He scopes the surroundings and found the accumulating clouds turning grey with doubt. He would need a miracle to win this battle with the weather he knows will not be in his favour. Though, he does fancy his chances with the Americans during battle, his victory streak may as well be left alone.

The British were well aware about the invasions thanks to espionage missions and Loyalist spies secretly giving away following events, advancements, logistic advantages, and chokepoints of the Americans. Meanwhile, Benedict Arnold’s march with over 600 men from Boston and Quebec has been achieved and harboured near Point Levis opposite of the mainland city. Seeing the rough conditions of the survivors from the long trek and the needed medical attention from injuries during the trek and the sign of winter’s approach, Benedict Arnold decided to stay opposite of the St. Lawrence river in the Plains of Abraham and waited for Montgomery’s army, to add to the size and ammunition needed to capture the city of Quebec. Since the city’s defence outnumbered the remnant of Arnold’s army and with the lack of sufficient resources to fight the battle, Arnold decided to wait for Montgomery’s reinforcements with troops and supplies. Arnold set out boats around the Point Levis shore in preparation for war. Since 100 of his men’s muskets were unserviceable to this day, Arnold sent spies to gather resistant forces and more weapons and supplies until the arrival of Montgomery. Arnold knows that the city cannot be taken by force, so he suggested blockading the surrounding city from supplies and reinforcements from the west and south side facing the St. Lawrence River. Arnold first asked for surrender peacefully to the city but was rebuffed by General Guy Carleton and the Loyalists. As the city Loyalist tries to gather up a resistant force against Arnold’s blockades and with the rejection of the surrender plea from Arnold’s message, Arnold supplied sympathetic Canadians inside the city with new weapons and supplies (Joseph’s edited the plan himself knowing the best and most strategic advantage would be if every member receive the same amount of ammunition as the other) and hope to cause a future plan of an insurrection within the city. Within a few days of blockade (as of November 18), rumours soon spread of a British attack with 800 men but spies sent from Arnold had confirmed that the rumour was fraud, spread by a desperate Loyalist within. Meanwhile in Pointe-aux-Trembles [December 2, 1775], Montgomery, with his new sets of winter uniforms, ammunitions, weaponries, artillery, clothing, and 300 more men under the command of James Levingston and Jacobs Brown; head due north-east to Quebec City and besiege the city by December 6 with the help of Arnold’s present army. The sympathetic Canadians were equipped with new sets of weapons and supplies from the protected American supply line for the coming insurrection as planned.

And thus with the aid of Christophe Pélissier’s ironworks and the aid to further increase the number of sympathetic Canadians, the day of the battle was soon played out. A storm broke during the dawn of the thirtieth of December. During the long periods of cold relentless nights, the soldiers ease up in camps supported by enough supplies to last through the snow storm. In just a few hours, the long blizzard manifested from the clouds above, as it takes the toll of the conditions. The caravan of the blitzkrieg-like snow storm fragmented the fancied chances of a victory. But it was moral hope that aids the men’s luck after the storm. Benedict stood outside the tents, staring at the vague fog abyss of the landscape once dominated by leafless trees and a white soft blanket. Now it’s a blazing storm with ice from the heavens slamming the ground like a meteor shower as to endow the wrath of God upon them. Heaven knows God would do such a thing as this blizzard. But at least Benedict knows the men would be fighting after this blazing ice storm or else it would’ve been suicide to fight both the Loyalists and the Mother Nature herself. He set his hand around the rag blanket around his back and head inside the tent for another dead slumber awaiting him would be haunting his mind with horrors of warfare and the imminent death ahead. The cold gust would do that to him. It’ll mess with his mind like a Devil’s children manipulate the holiest priest to murder another. The road-sands of snow left footprints behind his wakened eye lids as the endless cold nights obliterated their energy as if a monkey’s fandango had transformed into a jester’s execution. Only God knows if he’ll survive.

The Battle of Quebec was fought under the first light of the sun after the storm. Brown and Livingston began the first stage of the attack near the gate, setting up flames for Montgomery’s, Arnold’s, and Christophe’s attacks. Montgomery’s army began leading away through city blocks using urban warfare tactics. The fight for the city begins. Arnold, recently waken under the sound of a soldier, stood forth a hill only less than a kilometre away. His eyes set on the gates of hell, bearing marks of the voidless hell he’ll soon have to face. What mutiny he’d to face. Civilised men must eventually cross the finite line of history sometimes and when that happens, a new parallel line manifest to create a new boundless voidless space-time universe with a different setting than the previous historical line. Neither nor relevance nor size of that point is, Arnold knows that if he wins this battle, it’ll create a whole new divergence that will create an American dominated stance in Quebec. This shall forever shadow him during the battle.

Quebec, a testament of Canadian progress, was now a rubbish-like battlefield blazing hot past the soldiers’ footprints among the snow. Rays of yellow seeped through the bright white hue of the clouds, aiming directly at their destination of the gates of Quebec, with a sudden gust moving head forth to the cold white covered city. The war rages on, with Joseph Warren’s, Montgomery’s, Arnold’s, Brown’s, Livingston’s, and Christophe’s armies leading to their positions as the storm pass. Using urban warfare tactics and with clear visibility, much of the city is bombarded by inward and outward attacks. Joseph Warren lead his army standing strong passing the St. John Gates and able to move pass resisting Canadians and British fire. Montgomery led his army through the outside defences and were able to break through the city defence. With lucky advances through the centre of the city, the Canadian resistance and the British present army surrendered the day after with the capture and death of Guy Carleton inside the barricades of Sault-au-Matelot of the last assault. Joseph Warren made a lucky aid to Arnold’s army through the Palace Gates, mainly resisting heavy fire. Block after block, shattered windows collided with gunfire as the troops of the defensive resistance fought the Americans to their death. The gunpowder smoke intermixed with the heavy dose of white cold snow from the previous blizzard to create a mist of grey vague landscape. Screams and shouts were made as civilians tried to flee from the gunfire. Arnold walked pass a motel, now painted with shattered glass and splintering planks. A civilian woman stood there crying with teardrops running down her vigilant cheeks. Her left hand was set on top of a man - must’ve been her husband - dead and cold. Blood shed around his once lively beating heart that once pumps blood across his body. The wife - now a widow - cried and screamed throughout the ambient air and the orchestrated battlefield. Her screams were heard as a shot fired through her head, now silent, and fell near her once lively husband. Both of them shall be at peace now. Such pity that Arnold’s heart nearly fell down to Earth. Both of them were innocent souls that didn’t deserve to have their strings of life cut short. But it’s the price of a battle. Arnold shook his head to focus on his troops, now scattered around a few blocks of the city. Knowing that his troops needed him first and foremost, he continued onward towards the retreating enemy. With the causalities nearing the one thousand mark and the hours being judged by their fates, the Loyalist finally surrendered with a shameful yet honourable march. Heavy fighting with a complete defeat of the battle took their toll, especially with moral as the scourging defeat trampled their mind. The British fought hard to defend the centre of Quebec near city hall, but it was no effect. The Americans had already surrounded the city, caused an inner insurgence, and led a final front line for the collapse of the British Presence of Quebec.

The cash of fire was between sides, but as the Americans advance inwards, so does the victory morale. Casualties were high on both sides, but the Americans continue on by Joseph Warren himself and Benedict Arnold, not taking a hold of the rest of Quebec. Heaven and hell clashed, taking heavy casualties on both sides. Falling out of the skies are martyrs to remember, angels to follow, and a drive to fight for the sake of freedom and liberty of man. Through the inns and shops that once were filled with people and customers, for now, they are filled with soldiers for defence against the rain of bullets from either side of the battlefield.

As the last Quebec resistance fell and the army retreated to the very north of Quebec, the Americans claimed victory with a large glee of hope for Canada. Arnold stood in front of the dead couple near a motel. Blood spilled around them surrounded with snow and dirt. He should be celebrating but he shouldn’t for the price of a victory is death at greater numbers. The winds began to pick up and the snow started to allocate above the clouds once more. Standing adjacent to the innocent souls, they are now together once more at the heavens of the afterlife if God, Allah, or other mythical god-creature does exist out there. As the cold wind exponentially pick up, he covers the dead soulless bodies with a blanket. To comfort them until both their life-cold bodies biodegrade back to the Earth where they came from, he closed their eyelids and tucked them from the cold. Arnold put his hands back to his pockets and turned around, walking back to the inn where his troops where staying.

A soldier nearby seen the entire event and asked, “Sir, what was that. You barely knew them, nor have you associated with them at any point.”

“Those who faced death by a gun point do not deserve to die, especially if they aren’t tainted with sins of a man who shot another. If they must depart, they shall not to be in vain, nor forgotten. Everyone does not deserve to be remembered, nor can anyone allot them, or censor them. You must learn that everyone, no matter of their servitude or sins, must be remembered, or else that man shall live a life with no value, no purpose of living, and downgraded as nothing more than a speck of an unimportant shadow. Remember that boy; remember that everyone deserves not to be forgotten.”

"Sir, I wish you with God's back that even you shall be remembered." Arnold chuckled and walked heavily back to the inn with the soldier not far behind. Whilst the wind starting to freeze, he set his eyes up to the heavens, hoping that when he departs, he could someday be remembered one day and not remembered as a sole hero, but just remembered as a unit, a model of the growing American vigilance just like any Patriotic able man out there in the battlefields.


Events of Early 1776:


-Quebec City is captured, leading to hopes high in Nova Scotia for a rebellion.

-Arnold and Montgomery’s armies stationed in Quebec began sympathizing Loyalist and promising them representation. In what they believe to be a future target for a British counter attack, both men set up a large amount of defensive perimeters with the aid of Christopher's ironworks which include blockading and fortifying the entrances and creating a large defence force from Patriotic Quebecois. Trenches, batteries, and other such barricades are created throughout the winter course along with training and recruitment of the Quebec regiments are confronted.

-On the 11th of January, Thomas Paine published his pamphlet, Common Sense, which gave a surge of independence fever as it gave viewpoints of Britain's control of the colonies and its geographic legitimacy to control a large continent across the Atlantic Ocean from such a small island. His pamphlet would create a bandwagon effect for the cause of independence.

-On the brink of the 17th of the first month, Quebec sends its first delegations to the Continental Congress in Philadelphia.

-By the end of the first month, the Continental Congress approved of Quebec’s entrance, but with that present, the Continental Congress face a socio-political quandary with the populous of Quebec. The Continental Congress, now in a controversial debate over the new province of Quebec, began sympathising their representation, despite the Catholic religious condition and the massive French influx to mar it. Hopes that will agitate the Quebecois against the British is again critical but with some of the Quebecois content with the Quebec Act preserving their French culture, religion, and language, the debate continues. Quebec is given full and proper representation to the Continental Congress in hopes to allow Quebec to join in with the rebellion. Tolerance amongst their different religion, culture, and language were extended to allow representation and to secure Quebec’s indigenous institutions. With the help of Benjamin Franklin’s strategic negotiation skills, many Quebecois were content with this type of representation and preservation of their unique culture but there are some whom are still remaining Loyal to the British Crown.

-February 8, 1776: Rebels in Cumberland, Nova Scotia sends their sympathies towards Washington by a letter of aid. Response to that letter meant an outright scouting and invasion of Nova Scotia thanks to the wild up enthusiastic victory of most of the Province of Quebec excluding Tadoussac areas. Rebels in Nova Scotia spread, finding Governor Francis Legge in a grubby situation upon his hands. A letter is sent to London with the upcoming sympathy in Nova Scotia thus more British ships are stationed in Halifax. London’s response was disappointing at best.

-American sympathizers aid Nova Scotians after the letter of February 8 thus American raids and shipping ends to further help with the growing American vigilance in Nova Scotia. American espionages, rising rebellions, and British naval blockades began to be implemented by Washington. Early March was seen as the weeks of hard advances as the British militia and Loyalist forces fought back American and Canadian rebel soldiers.

-February 17th: The first and second Quebec regiments are created thanks to the continuing American supply line from New Hampshire to the other side of the Saint Lawrence. Arnold continues to fortify the city of Quebec under a defensive stance against any British invasion. With the upcoming British reinforcements coming in the spring, Arnold and Montgomery began training the young and able new Quebec soldiers on the side of the Americans.

-Late February: Espionage missions between Washington and the Nova Scotia rebels lead to further planning and aid to the increasing amount of Nova Scotian rebels. Loyalist in Nova Scotia fought back the Patriotic stance thus causes Patriotic towns to call for American aid. Many rebels erected in towns supporting for the Patriotic stance and thus generating a more prominent stance for America sympathy. Jonathan Eddy begins supporting a rebellious cause in Nova Scotia whipping up a valuable army against the British present militia.

-February 20th sees the political upheaval against the British in Nova Scotia which has deliberately aroused as rebels began supporting the American invasion of Nova Scotia, creating the 1st Nova Scotia Regiment.

-Late February to Early March: Joseph Warren and Livingston began their campaign to Nova Scotia to aid the growing amount of rebels but the British remain stubborn in Halifax. The American cause spreads aiding Joseph Warren during the Battle of Fort Cumberland.

*****


Ascendancy_by_seymourfan.jpg


"Fight until these Rebel scums bleed for mercy!"



The New York Invasion
August 1776



Excerpts from: A Revolutionary Hero by Joseph Plumb Martin and George F. Scheer
(c) 1989
College of New Jersey (Princeton University)
College of New Jersey Press, Princeton, NJ 08540
United States of America

New York, a symbol of a port city of over 20,000 American citizens, stood apart from many colonial towns back in the seventeenth to eighteenth century. From yesterday, a tranquillity and busy city, was now being fortified around the Long Island, Brooklyn, and Manhattan area for the upcoming British Invasion. They are about to face war outside their doors, a bloody and most invasive battle of all. The Americans were about to face the enemy of the time similar to that of the twentieth century when the Great United States of America had to face the U.S.C.R/U.S.S.R. (In Soviet Russian, it is translated to Союз Советских Социалистических Республик. In Soviet German, Union der Sozialistischen Räterepubliken. Translating it from Soviet German to American English: Union of Soviet Councils Republic or U.S.C.R. From the Russian Translation to American English: Union of Socialist Soviet Republics or U.S.S.R. Many civilians prefer the latter half which is the U.S.C.R. or the German translation of the Socialist Union. For translation to the six largest American languages of the word, U.S.C.R. - In American English: Union of Socialist Council Republic; in American Spanish: Unión de Repúblicas Socialista del Consejo; in American Portuguese: União das Repúblicas Socialistas do Conselho; in American Japanese: 社会主義評議会共和国連邦; in American East Russian: Союз Республик Социалистическая Совета; and in American Tagalog: Union ng Republics Sosyalista Council)

Before the great buildings, and mega-structures, and Green-Towers (Energy-efficient skyscrapers that are either in-vitro meat towers, urban farm towers, hydroponics towers, zero-carbon emission buildings, Sol-Towers, etc...) of Manhattan, Brooklyn, Long Island, Northern New Jersey, Bronx, and Queens ever erected to its majestic and elegant form; before all the millions of anxious immigrants ever set foot on the city from the devastating wars of the Eastern Hemisphere; and before all the full establishment of the fifteen United States of America; there was just a set of small islands of Manhattan, Long Island, and other surrounding and small islands dotted with rivers and streams, hills as bountiful as the Fertile Crescent, and filled with exotic animals throughout the Animalia spectre. During the early seventeenth century, the city was just a mere small village of a few dozen or so Dutch people. New Amsterdam, the village that what once was named, was a bustling port town, which by the way was one of the best geographically best locations for a port town in Eastern North America. Over the decades of the sixteenth century, the British took control of New Amsterdam and renamed the village: New York. The town grew omni directionally outwards as the population shot up to the thousands. By the eighteenth century, the village has become a town of twenty thousand. Carts roll by along the dirt roads containing fresh produce from the upper farmlands. Children of all sorts of sizes and colour of skin walk by with a stick and a ball to play another round of a primitive version of football (or soccer in modern terms). The wealthy wore garments from the farthest reaches of the world such as India or China, and they wore magnifying jewellery that reflected the dimmest of light to shine throughout the landscape. The commoners held their heads up high for a bright future of a life in America. They enter the ports of New York to start a family, raise a plantation, or start a business as an entrepreneur. The colossal forms of bells, adverts, conversations, and all sorts of sound waves that ricochet across the building began to feel more vibrant. These vibrant peoples reflect the ancestors of the great mega-city that stands taller than the flight of the birds themselves. The Ecological and Cultural Revolution of the mid to late twentieth century had sparked a new sense of greenery throughout the city. But change does not always occur at a physical tangible form like the beautiful transformation of Mega-New York; it also comes from the vibrant rhetoric and tone of the ordinary people that walk down by the road. People in the Big Apple became more open-minded, understanding, more calm thanks to the new indoor parks and trees lining every sidewalk, and even more nice as the people start to feel the sun rays hitting their skin and the smell of the fresh bark of the trees every day. The environment seems so peaceful since it is in the most populated city in the world that it all seemed so implausible at first glance. Nothing can compare to the style and calmness of the people in the big city.

In 1776 Lower Manhattan, citizens near ports and harbours gather around, stocking up barrels after barrels of what seemed to be a formative artificial barricade. Large sand bags, furniture, and other such large objects of little to no value are set up near the perimeter of the Lower Manhattan region for fortification. At upper Manhattan, both slave, free, and willing men dug up and build large barriers in order to stop the impending invasion.

Joseph Plumb Martin stuffed his hand to the handle of the shovel, digging deep into the earth, forehead sweating, eyes exhausted; he would never give up such an opportunity to defend the new republic of free men against the oppressions of the Brits. He saw other men working as hard as him and the thought in their heads were unanimity: to justify what is right. Ahead of him was an encamped of soldiers; they’ve been watching them all for months now, preparing for the inevitable battle to come. Some where men from the heart of Brooklyn’s encamped; they’re now here to aid with the weak fortifications under the command of Joseph Warrens and George Washington [Benedict Arnold is currently in Quebec for the buildup of fortifications]. Soldiers have resided near the sheds and unsanitary camps, with only the will for a fight to keep them there. The beauty is it for war, a motivational unanimity, a very force for teeming life, and such effort done with patriotism in his heart that the work would’ve been done at an hour’s pass before than if war was never a cause. Martin wiped off the sweat off his shoulders; he is by far one of many men creating the forts, redoubts, trenches, and batteries that were now encircling the area. The proportions of the war was staggering to him. People from all over the fifteen colonies came for this epic battle awaiting them, some were veterans from the Great Battle of Quebec, others were young and new wearing the uniform of homage for the first time in which only civilian men could have wore in his dreams.

As silhouettes ahead formulate and manifest, Martin sped rapidly into a trench with his hands cupped into a shovel, his feet stern beneath the ground, he grinded the dirt earth ahead. He knew how important his job was and how he’ll had to face the most excruciating moments of history. For hours, he would continue on doing that, and so others around him, too. He’s though just a mere sixteen year old, would offer this country well against the British. He had never thought of being those men who truly was “engaged” into war, which by definition is to be in fully dedicated stance and risk his entire life against the British Regulars. He’s not a coward, but he’s just a boy, too young to waste a life. It still haunted him of the fact of death by a bullet on the heart, on the forehead, or a stab with a knife on his chest, bleeding away his blood-gushed heart. It wasn’t a privileged for him to join the service with these men. He knew he was just one of them; a soldier willing to fight but the honour of serving his beliefs with others was motivating. He was just a mere unit, a mote of the battlefield; nothing more, nothing less. His grandsire, long safe at his homely quarters, would’ve been proud of him. Of any kind road, his grandsire would always take him to the road less travelled, to the path of opportunity, and to a sanctuary of peace and tranquillity.

The day of the 27th marked the day of the rising hell. During the fortnight before the battle, he thought that he could already hear feet moving, guns slashing, people screaming in fear, perhaps. Martin only tensed up if he ever thought about it. The idea that the British would succeed, burn this city to the ground, and into hell was well shock in his head. No matter what he do, death, somewhere lurking around the back of his head, seeped through his brain, and set his mind in a state of mesmerising defeat. Sweat began to tear down his skin as a sudden jerk of his mind woke him up. He stared around the dark smog, knowing that it’s still a few hours past midnight. To calm himself down, he breathed in, smelling the musk like perfume mingled with mens’ sweat and hard labour and the gummed exhalation of every men alive around him, all of them just as nervous or tired as he was. He could imagine the pellets of bullets that would rain onto him, like a blizzard of shard metals come clashing down on every centimetre of his body. Bursting blood vessels and spewing endless supplies of blood onto the Earth beneath him. The thought of it only buried him inside even more than usual. This night, would be a long night for him. He thought to himself of the wide-eyed lion staring blankly at him, his bones, his meat, and his frantic eyes. The cold night fissured pass his skin as he waits for the battle to come. Oh the horrors await him...

A few or so hours later, a soldier had suddenly burst out of the open awakening Robert himself, “The Regulars has been spotted ‘bout a mile off the coast of Long Island. Come on men, let’s move!”

Robert opened his eyes opened. From all the time he told his grandsire that he wants to become a soldier for the Patriot cause will be tested. His will would be tested to its limit as he face the inevitable. His stomach churned around, but using whatever was left inside of him; he got up and took off with his gun around his back. No matter what happens...he’s going to survive.

Walking outside the tents, he stared up to the white hue of the clouds above. He remembers that line from his grandsire, “Life is precious. And you only have one. Don’t waste it, boy.” He could still grasp his grandsire’s hand when he was a kid. He remembered how his grandsire would let him sit on top of hill adjacent to him and watch the stars illuminate from the darkness of the skies above. He remembered the last fortnights of summer where he and his grandsire would sit down on the porch and tell amazing stories of his childhood. Those stories before all this war, all these battles both of them now had to endure. With a large sigh, Robert left his mind, ready to take in orders.

British ships as far as the horizon converge with the atmosphere bliss landed on the western region of Long Island. Martin was fully awake then, now with a regiment heading to that point. It was the point of his life where for the first time, he’ll witness and plays onto an awful scene of such battles where men like himself engage in combat with the enemy. He was fully aware of his body, his face, his mouth, his eyes staring straight forward, his hands clenched even tighter around his gun, his ears stuffed with orders and whispers from the Generals and Brigadiers and Colonels. The sensations of war, still clenched around him like a heathen fire bursting him into flames of ashes that once belong to the Earth. He was, of course, a shrieking blaze, set aflame from the stress he’s having. He’s just a mere boy, but he knows he can prove himself a man and - most importantly - a Patriot against the tyrannical oppression of the British.

Colonel Benjamin Tallmadge of Connecticut led him and his men to their entrenchment. The British army took their position, watching them in every corner of his peripheral vision. The scent of fear aroused, sending goose-bumps across the surface of his skin. What horror he’ll face as he lay low behind the trench, staring wide-eyed at the enemy. The regiment stood in front of one of the abundant luxurious green hills of Long Island, waiting for orders.

Robert stood in the eyes of his men. So quiet it seems - too quiet. All he could hear was the rustling of the grass blades and the thousands upon thousands of leaves swaying with the wind and even the slightest insects ricocheting across the grassy hills. Robert’s senses dull as a large tsunami of bullets rain down on him like a bright meteor shower; beautiful at first until that large piece of rock hits the surface and cause a catastrophe. Like when those few seconds of the shower as the giant rock approaches the ground, the build-up of air pressure would overwhelm in density which would lead to a drastic increase of air pressure; enough to make a man’s ear pop. The raining bullets hit a man besides him; similar to how the rock would directly dig through the ground downwards, creating a supersonic omni directional jet of blast waves and heat that would obliterate and slaughter trees, homes, and everything in its path for another two kilometres or so. Robert slowly turned towards his right, seeing as the jet of bullets shot a man’s chest. The last tears dried out of his eyes as rage spill forth. No more procrastination; no more excuses. He had to act, or he would land straight to the ground dead.

Robert moved forwards towards a hill along with the remaining regiment. He needn’t dare to know if the General was dead since his mind is at a state of confusion and paranoia. When a bullet was heard from his left, Robert turned as quickly as he could to find the Colonel dead on his horse. The horse screamed and whined as a second wave of bullets rained upon them like a Red army. Robert quickly raised his gun high to search for the enemy. Robert closely aimed his gun at the enemy target: General Howe. With one last shot, he fired, sending smoke and dust around him to accumulate and spread, blocking his view. He took one step back, and heard one last bang. He stared down, finding his chest gushing blood all over his clothes. So help him God as he fell to the ground unconsciously. His eyes see the bright green trees, slowly fading into a lighter hue, and then a full blank landscape of the sky...

*****​

“Robert..., wake up.” Is he dead? Did God call him to come towards the gates of heaven? Is this some kind of Devil’s trick to hell? Robert felt paralysed as his mind tried to conjure any thought. Did the light finally consume him to nothingness? All he could see is pitch black; a voidless, boundless spew of nothingness conjured by the mind itself. He slowly opened his eyes. The world around him illuminated at first, and then accumulated into shapes.

“Grandsire?” he whispered with all the energy he can conjure right now.

“I told ye should’ve joined the Navy...” Grandsire smiled once more. Robert chuckled a bit as his eyes fixated to the appropriate setting.

“What happened?” he slowly asked his grandsire.

“You got shot near the heart, son. The doctors said you nearly died from blood lost but a soldier manages to snatch you before that happens. You were lucky.” Grandsire smiled at his best. Robert also smiled relief even.

“Didn’t you want me dead in the first place?” Robert tried to chuckle but his chest felt like a knife stab the area. He suddenly winched at the sudden surge of pain.

“Careful there, son,” Grandsire nearly jolted at his sudden winching; “You know I never meant it.” Robert knew that, but he still smiled.

With all his heart, he manages to say, “I miss you, grandsire.”

“I miss you, too...”


220px-Writing_the_Declaration_of_Independence_1776_cph.3g09904.jpg


"What I've give for a break once in awhile..."



Declaration of Independence
July of 1776



And in July 4, 1776, a new day begins. The day for the beginning of the United States of America. The day when fifteen colonies declared their independence from the Kingdom of Great Britain. The womb of the United States of America starts with the Founding Fathers signing the Declaration of Independence:

Signers of the Declaration of the Independence:

Delaware
• George Read
• Caesar Rodney
• Thomas McKean


Pennsylvania
• George Clymer
• Benjamin Franklin
• Robert Morris
• John Morton
• Benjamin Rush
• George Ross
• James Smith
• James Wilson
• George Taylor



Massachusetts
• John Adams
• Samuel Adams
• John Hancock
• Robert Treat Paine
• Elbridge Gerry



New Hampshire
• Josiah Bartlett
• William Whipple
• Matthew Thornton



Rhode Island
• Stephen Hopkins
• William Ellery



New York
• Lewis Morris
• Philip Livingston
• Francis Lewis
• William Floyd



Georgia
• Button Gwinnett
• Lyman Hall
• George Walton




Virginia
• Richard Henry Lee
• Francis Lightfoot Lee
• Carter Braxton
• Benjamin Harrison
• Thomas Jefferson
• George Wythe
•Thomas Nelson, Jr.




North Carolina
• William Hooper
• John Penn
• Joseph Hewes




South Carolina
• Edward Rutledge
• Arthur Middleton
• Thomas Lynch, Jr.
• Thomas Heyward, Jr.



New Jersey
• Abraham Clark
• John Hart
• Francis Hopkinson
• Richard Stockton
• John Witherspoon




Connecticut
• Samuel Huntington
• Roger Sherman
• William Williams
• Benedict Arnold
• Oliver Wolcott



Maryland
• Charles Carroll
• Samuel Chase
• Thomas Stone
• William Paca



Quebec
• Ethan Allen
• Christophe Pélissier
• David S. Franks




Nova Scotia

• Jonathan Eddy
• Henry Alline
• John Day
• Allan Maclean
• John Small​



founding-fathers-declaration-of-independence.jpg


The Declaration of Independence of the United States of America


IN CONGRESS, July 4, 1776

The unanimous Declaration of the Fifteen united states of America,
When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are to be protected under the proper government without doubt of his institutions, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism and cruel acts to the peoples without any relevant causes, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.--Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

· He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

· He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

· He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

· He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

· He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

· He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the meantime exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

· He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

· He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.

· He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

· He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.

· He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.

· He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.

· He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

· For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

· For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:

· For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:

· For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:

· For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:

· For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences

· {Quebec Act not mentioned}

· For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:

· For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

· He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

· He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

· He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.

· He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

· He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the American natives, his own militia whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, creeds, religious equality to us all, and other such conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our Brittish brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, protect his own individual people no matter of their obligations or previous servitude, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


And thus these fifteen United States of America fully declared their independence. The Declaration of Independence showed all the wrongs of King George and why it was necessary for America to rebel. The Declaration endowed a testament of America’s need to govern themselves, prosper on its own, and retain the laissez faire regime it once had, but Great Britain had refused of such ideas. Let the earth tremble upon the rise of a new nation with liberty and justice for the men of that day.

For Washington, Brooklyn soon transformed itself a battlefield as British forces began lead by Major General William Howe. After a lucky shot, Major General William Howe was hit on the chest. Nobody knows who shot him considering there were many bullets that were fired throughout the battle. A failed attempt to capture White Plains had lead to a new interest, Fort Washington where the defence of Manhattan has taken place. Leading over 8000 men, the British turned Manhattan into a battle. The second battle of New York commences as land and naval forces collide. The battle intensified after a few hours of shots being arranged as the Regulars just went full on course to the target regardless of the causalities. The Americans were able to repel the advancing forces, tough.

The American unanimity rebellion soon brought into international stage. France joins the American Revolution on the Patriotic side against the British. The catalysts for French intervention was bitterly diverse from revenge against the British from the utter defeat during the Seven Year’s War, the lost of its mainland French North American territories to Spain and Britain, and the acceptance of Quebec in the American government with full and proper representation. The French also saw the American Revolution as a chance to strip the British down to size, especially their navies that dominate the seas. The most notable French influence to the war was Lafayette and his significance as being a general and aiding the battles of New York and the Second Battle of Quebec and the Battle of Bennington. Public opinion was in favour of open war to Britain, but it was at the expense’ of risks taken to the British if they succeed in reoccupying the rebelling American colonies.

The Americans start their year off with George Washington’s victory of the Battle of Princeton, New Jersey during the midst of winter. British General Howe had just ordered the attack of Princeton. In the second of January, the British finally met the American units who in turn began delaying the British advancement. And thus the Americans were on a victory strike once again.

The Battle of Oriskany was one of the bloodiest battles during the revolution. The indigenes and Loyalist were set to their utmost distress, as the losing streak followed. Since the first indigenes arrived in the Americas, the Iroquois Confederacy lived around the Great Lakes in north-western New York state and surroundings. The colonial period brought the Iroquois to the Global Commerce. With the colonial wars becoming denser in the North American front, the Iroquois began siding to different European powers. With the American Revolution, the Iroquois is split with pro-American tribes and pro-Loyalist tribes. In order for Quebec to remain secure against Loyalist attacks and raids, Joseph Warren and Benjamin Franklin are ordered from Congress to negotiate with the Loyalist Iroquois and Mohawk tribes. After the Americans had captured Brooklyn, Joseph Brant was held captive whilst trying to flee to Manhattan with Admiral Lord Howe. Joseph Warren and Benjamin Franklin were sent to negotiate a deal with the most prominent American Indigenous leader, Joseph Brant.

1777 timeline:

February 6 to 8, 1777: Second Battle of New York as Howe’s troops under the jurisdiction of Admiral Lord Howe (General Howe’s brother) whom tries to retake the island of Manhattan via Hudson River. After the failed Battle of Brooklyn attempt thanks to the lucky tactics made by General Joseph Warren and his aid in bringing reinforcements of Brooklyn, Lord Howe's troops retreated. Thanks to his trained and well-equipped regiment, the Americans were able to secure the Brooklyn area. Admiral Lord Howe diverts the rest of the troops to Manhattan in order to take the town itself. A fierce battle occurred as the clash of Joseph Warren’s and Howe’s troops tried to island for themselves.

July 6, 1777: Battle of Halifax: Joint American/French naval forces failed to take Halifax.

Washington earned a great morale boost with the victories over the Middle and Southern colonies while Joseph Warren and Jonathan Eddy earned great respect in victories in Canadian and Upper colonies. Though American victories were surpassing the amount of British victories, much of the Gulf Stream is still under British control and parts of Quebec and Nova Scotia is still found Loyal and fighting the sympathetic Canadians. The British navy have bombarded the coast of New York Province, trying to retake Long Island and Manhattan lead by General Howe. The outskirts of Long Island had become a battlefield as American regiments stubbornly fight for their independence while British troops tried to oppress the traitors to the King. Weapons, food, water, and medical paraphernalia were being secretly distributed across the fifteen colonies through warehouses and sheds in secret meetings away from British eyes to spot. Sympathetic Americans risked their lives, well, at least, preventing themselves from imprisonment; they began issuing more weapons, supplies, and ammo as the victory fever continues on. The ethicality for representation changed into a view of independence whilst the battlefield had now moved South.



[1] The Second Chapter would be dealing with the Second half of the American Revolution: the South
 
Last edited:
Scenes from 2013 CE​


Neo-Paris, People's Republic of North France

A man dressed as if he was going to a ball with a lady stood in front of the Eiffel Tower memorial. The civil war between communist and capitalist forces had split France in two during the beginning of the twentieth century. Old Paris burned in a crisped flame long ago. Then it was nuked by a neo-capitalist terrorist during the imminent cold war between the New Republic of Occitania (South France) and the People's Republic of North France in the '60s. It was a homemade device and was smuggled past the North-South France border. No one knew who did it since it was a suicide bomber. What's left of Paris was salvaged, but few people populated what's left of the city. Only a few thousand, including him, resides the city. After the short war between North and South France, the capital was moved to Orleans.

The man stared at the memorial. His father had been in Paris during the bombing in the 60s. His mother was fortunate enough to be in Brest at the time of the bombing. He and his mother was very lucky, but not his father.

The man put his toque and mitts on as the cold brisk air picked up momentum. Cold day isn't it? A sip of egg and grog warmed the cold sensation running along his back. Such a nice day to remember the death of a father to the capitalist smucks. The man took another sip from the glass and set it down on the grass surface. Kneeling down closer to the memorial he imagined his father still present. He remembers how his father use to run with him to the nearest bakery and eat all the lovely bread and cheese for his birthday. All the good memories beneath his soul disperse through his mind. His father was standing near this spot; he was about to arrive to Brest and meet his mother and him via the Paris International Airport before the bombing destroyed it. What was the capitalist suicide bomber thinking? Killing innocent lives just because he believe in his capitalist ideology over the communist ideology. What a menace to society?! Such a shame he died before the man could get his hands around his neck for killing his father. Why is the world so cruel to him? Why?

A tear drop manage to form and coalesce, dropping to the wind's caravan of sorrow...


London, Syndicalist Republics of England and Wales


I stood awake in its broad expanses of the once elegant mosaics and artwork and its lonely vibrant tone of Thomas Gainsborough and William Hogart stood quietly and motionless in the dark sunless artificial structure. The windows were a dark cascade of a nothingness void in which only the moon lit sky seeped through the panes of the glass, only to lit the hallway with a lighter hue than black. By staring immensely through the glass panes, I could see the vivid detail of the brownstone veldt of buildings with decorative flows dating back to the early-twentieth century flowing against the boundless horizon before me. The moon decorated the blank brown structures of London with a tint of whiteness as to bring at least partial happiness to the blank forested landscape. I pierced my eyes through this dense fog, gaining no visibility. An inhale of the thick fog deepened my robed lungs, already trying to cope with the moisture. My body frozen in a state of shock, but with the fog so thick any sane human could barely even sense anything. I could hear the lackadaisical moans and grunts around me, but with the fog so thick you could barely even see where them came from. My ears twitch every time I hear those moans...those vicious moans as if someone predatory was out there, lurking for its prey. Moistening its lips for its next victim. I could only freeze myself knowing the prey might be me. Since then, fear aroused inside, devouring my senses.

Through the fogged hallway, I continued to walk gracelessly forward, my ears twitched to a dripping noise, but with heavy viscosity. I stepped forward, knowing a trail of earth dripping along the pavement. The hallway was crisped too old to still be standing, let alone renovated with all the vegetation seeping through the ever enlarging cracks and rubble. One step forward and then another, I walked towards the end of the tunnel of darkness, like walking towards the end of the light. A pierce glance around, and it was still quiet. A noise in the distance, a banging across the hallway, maybe it's just in my head. Many have such irrational fears in the dark. The brain just conjure up such mythical notions as to the relation of fear. Those dark, monsters in the closet or under beds, hearing strange noises from the attic or maybe those scary creatures in the forest that will eat you alive. These are all examples of the types of fears that we usually dismiss as irrational because they do not have any real reason to be feared. But these noises, these scratches and dripping, aren't any sense of a mythical being of the brain. It felt too vivid, too realistic, as if the someone was actually following me, just to mock me, or worse.

I, now, stood in front of the wooden door. Staring at every crack cascade from one point to the other, every cripple, every bump, and ever so light that seeped through these cracks of uncertainty. For one thing that was conspicuous was that the light was actually, well light. It was well pass midnight so there shouldn't be light, just the ever darkness of space. Carefully, I set my hand around the door knob, cupping its metallic geometric sphere. I stepped closer against the door to investigate. I put one eye closer to one of the lightened cracks. Closer, and closer, I pierced through and saw just the bright blinding light of the room, nothing more. I carefully twist the knob ever bit per second. I held my gripped on the knob and pushed forward ever so slightly feeling the presence of another being just ahead. As if those times when someone is in a lone room with no one in particular, and just feel the notion of a paranormal being of some sort floating around the vast expanse of the room creating a very paranoid environment.

Once the crack between the door and the walls enlarged enough that the room ahead is ever more prominent, I took the time to scan the area. The room was lit with a tint of yellow from the open lamp. Everything was tidy a bit except maybe the broken cracked window and the dust and molts that scourer the surface. One peculiar thought in mind was a humanoid being sitting on the velvet wooden chair. Him - or her long dark silk hair cascade of the flow of a waterfall. On her hand was a pitcher half-filled with water.

She turned around all of a sudden as she gazed her eyes at mines, "Oh, Mr. Richard. How quaint it is to see you up this late."

"Oh, I heard a banging noise somewhere here. I thought you would be in danger," I moved forward into the bedroom. The room was a relic in fact. Dating as early as the twentieth century. This place use to be a whore house before the outbreak of the Second Great War. News modern homes hadn't really been constructed in the Syndicalist Republics of England and Wales.

"It's just shattered glass. Some young maniac down the street were throwing rocks at windows."

"Blimey, well the state can cover it."

"Sure," she rolled her eyes sarcastically as she stood up with the pitcher a glass of water in her hands. Her night gown swayed against her as she stood.

As she walked by the door, I immediately stopped her, "Um, Ms. Roddor, can I talk to you about the invitation to the birthday party back in Mrs. Ridd's. You really made a fuss by not intending."

"Oh, that old hag, I thought she would've died by now," she snickered in disgust.

I set my hand against my mouth, "Ms. Roddor! She's only fifty. Could you at least be seen nice to her and temporarily pretend your feud didn't exist?"

"Why would I give a fuck about her?! She's been trying to lure my friends out of my life and ruin me."

I shook my head in response, "You know that's not true. She's only trying to be your friend."

"Oh yeah. How do you explain her ongoing move to ditch me and dragging my friends along with her?"

"Well,-" I hesitated a bit as I thought of any explanation.

"See, she's been so manipulative sometimes," she exited the room furiously carrying the pitcher and glass with her. She sighed, "I'll be taking these downstairs. Want anything."

"Just a glass of milk," I said as she nodded and closed the door behind her. That woman and her paranoia.

A brisk of air shot out of the broken window creating a cold chill along my back.

I stepped forward closer to the window. Leaning forward without falling off, I saw a mob congregating with picket signs and even guns. Some of them with guns are yelling in near unison, "This is not Democracy," and some phrases relative to that. Capitalist terrorists, all they want is change but they're found that with violence. Won't they learn that violence will never be the answer? I shook my head and step backgrounds. Violence, nothing will help this society if there is any.

Shattered glass bolted my senses to shock, "Ahh, Danny, get over here-" I heard her stop her words as if she was gagged. Oh Lord, the worst scenarios are quickly starting to coalesce. I quickly opened the closet bedroom and grabbed my bat. Firearms for civilian use are illegal but there are ways of owning one and it has become more easy considering the law enforcement are overrun by too much crime and arsonists all over the place which would explain how some terrorists got firearms in the first place. Most of the police are concentrated in downtown and near the Worker's Congress to keep things there at least in order.

I hastily exited the room to find the hallway filled with shattered glass and cardboard boxes. The rioters outside are now battling riot police. Walking pass the ominously dark hallway, I opened the exit door that will lead me to the staircase. God knows where she is by now.

Standing in front of the door that'll lead me to the staircase, I breathed in and opened it ever so slowly without making any creaking sounds. I held my bat against my chest and walked slowly into the spacious staircase. Slow foot steps slowly echoed through from the upper levels. Without making any conspicuous sounds with my feet, I crept upwards up the staircase to the fourth level with my bat gripped tighter against my shoulder.

"Ms. Rodder where are you?" I shouted upwards.

"Don't move," a voice yelled from around the fifth level.

"Please, just let her go," I asked in a begging manner.

"I said, don't move!" he practically scream in such a manner that I nearly jolted backwards. I could here Ms. Rodders tearing up a bit already.

"Please, just let me go," Ms. Rodder cried whilst trying to keep up with her breathing. She really can't handle stressful situations. Her neck was cupped by the man's right hand whilst the other hand carried the hand gun aimed at her ear.

The next sound I heard were gun shots outside and even more screams. I would've though he shot Ms. Rodder but broken glass from the nearby window marred the chances.

And then, those gunshots were doomed aimed at this building. Gunshots were first fired at the hallway behind me and then moved right and up to the fifth level staircase. I looked up to find Ms. Rodder screaming as the man that had kidnapped her was shot.

"Are you okay up there," I asked worriedly.

She screamed whilst tearing up uncontrollably, "He died..., Danny. He's fucking dead," and she cried even more. People started firing and we had to suck and glide and sneak out to safety. We were lucky to get out alive. Never again can I ever live to see how corrupt England has become. Never again should I walk outside without knowing danger of being mugged, molested, gang banged, or even worst. Only God knows how this happened, how this land once known for elegance and beauty transition to this savagery. Maybe it's a phase in civilisation: civil unrest. I only hope to make it through it though. God, save us all...


Gao, Federation of Azawab


President Ibrahim Boubacar Keïta stood in front of the thousands of Azawebians, giving a prominent oration to come. The cold war between the West African Union of Democracies and the Khartoum Pact is waning to a dénouement. The capitalist nations are winning after decades of harsh tensions between the two African Unions. Mr. Keïta took his handkerchief and wipe off the sweat of his forehead. His second term is about to begin with the best oration he can endow from his mind.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. It is my duty to serve another term for the liberty and freedom of this great nation. The threat of communism is coming to a close. With the collapsing tensions between the two pacts, it is my duty to make this peace amongst all Africans. We will work with the Republic of Hausi, the Union of Senegal, and the Burkina Republic to end the threat of communist totalitarianism once and for all. It will be involve more tension, but we believe that there is hope at the end of the tunnel. And to create that hope for the future is to create it.

"Within the grasp of my hands, we can thrive and prosper in peace once and for all. We no longer live in constant fear of being destroyed by nuclear proliferation. We no longer have to worry of the threat of dictatorship. We can freely express, now, that we no longer have to cower under the threats of the east.

"Now I know there's still a whole lot of work to do. The "Transitioning" nations of the east are in great turmoil. We must, as a unit, to provide aid to the transitioning of the nations of the Khartoum Pact that are trying to transition into a capitalist nation such as the Worker's Union of Sudan facing a civil war with the Darfur capitalists insurgencies or the People's Republic of Abyssinia facing a massive drop in its economy due to the failing affairs of the U.S.C.R.

"We must unite as not of Azawadians, but as Africans, and spread democracy and freedom to the corrupt east nations trying to transit from its dictatorial state. We must show these people true democracy with aid and compassion. It wouldn't be easy, though. There would be people still being ignorant of change, but we can overcome those obstacles.

"We can thrive and prosper once again. Love live Azawad! Love live to Freedom of all African nations!"

A huge applause burst through the emotional atmosphere as the crowd cheered in response. The President waved at his glorious people, and left the stand to return to the seat where he will help bring democracy to the east.
 
You know if I wasn't the liberal social democrat I am I might be concerned about the ideology wanking in this timeline.

But I basically completely agree with the message so I can't hate it! :cool:

As long as you have some wrinkles and everyone has to struggle to get their comparatively happy ending I'm subscribed.

Sad that Britain screwed up syndicalism :(
 
Britain lost both world wars :(
The discontent of its people wanted change after losing so many wars to the Americans... Syndicalism roused from this discontent and a Second British Revolution occurred. Anti-Americanism was very profound after the revolution and people hated even American tourist or immigrants. An American flag would be burnt whilst people dance with the burning flag naked. American shops are burnt to ashes. Any signs of American would be burnt and sent to hell where it belongs... Scotland declared its independence after the revolution and became a republic. Scotland becomes a home to the once exiled government of the United Kingdom. England is so sad now... :(
 

Jcw3

Banned
Hoo rah, America! Will you come out with a world map soon? :D

Ah man, this is awesome. We have the Americas, the Philippines, Iceland, and Japan! And maybe more, if I missed something.
 
Britain lost both world wars :(
The discontent of its people wanted change after losing so many wars to the Americans... Syndicalism roused from this discontent and a Second British Revolution occurred. Anti-Americanism was very profound after the revolution and people hated even American tourist or immigrants. Scotland declared its independence after the revolution and became a republic. Scotland becomes a home to the once exiled government of the United Kingdom. England is so sad now... :(

I see, But I'm still wonder how syndicalism went so wrong, how similar is it to the USSR in terms of authoritarianism?

Could you answer the rest of my post as well please?
 
I see, But I'm still wonder how syndicalism went so wrong, how similar is it to the USSR in terms of authoritarianism?

Could you answer the rest of my post as well please?


Syndicalism roused because people blamed the government for Britain's lost. Having an anarcho-syndicalist government aroused in England and spread to Wales. Syndicalism was good for England and Wales for a short period, but corruption upholds. Humans are imperfect and a class-less society can lead to corruption. Human individuality is subsided and condemned to promote pure equality but that only leads to its failure as it suppressed human development and eccentricity. Also, Stalin-like men such as Winston Churchill roused to power and promoted far-right policies and claimed it as "socialist reforms" to promote order and development which means - deportation of all illegals and non-Britons (many believe it will promote new job growth), - religion is promoted (to help people believe in something other than "We all hate America", and other manipulative policies. Corruption and manipulation with Stalin-like men = oppression under the "fake" belief of anarcho-syndicalism.

England is not really a syndicalist anymore, but more totalitarian thanks to Stalin-like men (though it still labels itself as a syndicalist)

Ignorant Brits... :)

(just kid, I love England and Wales)
 
Hoo rah, America! Will you come out with a world map soon? :D

Ah man, this is awesome. We have the Americas, the Philippines, Iceland, and Japan! And maybe more, if I missed something.

The U.S.C.R. has much of eastern Europe and nearly most of Asia to counter America :eek: (It also has control over the northern parts of the Middle East oil so OMG)

America may be big, but the U.S.C.R. isn't far behind.
 
The U.S.C.R. has much of eastern Europe and nearly most of Asia to counter America :eek: (It also has control over the northern parts of the Middle East oil so OMG)

America may be big, but the U.S.C.R. isn't far behind.

Well as long as we have struggle I won't feel bad for rooting for the True united states of america. :cool:

Addtionally I'm sure will get to it but how would the aristocratic winston churchill end up as Stalin,

I suppose if he was on the outs in the post second great war britain he might muster his way in!
 
Well as long as we have struggle I won't feel bad for rooting for the True united states of america. :cool:

Addtionally I'm sure will get to it but how would the aristocratic winston churchill end up as Stalin,

I suppose if he was on the outs in the post second great war britain he might muster his way in!

The syndicalist revolution occurred sometime after the Second World War (somewhere around the 1900s or 1910s, I haven't really set the date). Winston Churchill grew up in the syndicalst environment and really got interested in trying to reform after the economic stagnation of the 1920s and 1930s. He's just trying to reform the country after multiple failed attempts to bring the nation out of stagnation. His policies unintentionally turned more "totalitarian" and far-right in order to promote a somewhat minor growth. Others followed his idea over the decades and now, England is a totalitarian nation and even more anti-American.
 
American Hero of the Day

In this world, Rosalind Franklin is American. :)

Ellis and Muriel Franklin emigrated to the United States during the struggles of the syndicalist revolution in the 1900s and 1910s. Rosalind Franklin was born in July 25, 1920 in Charleston, South Carolina. Her inspiration was the new scientific discoveries happening in the United States after World War two. She excels in arithmetic and biology. She became one of the famous scientist of the biological field of science. She won a Noble Prize for her contribution to the discovery of the B form of DNA and her contribution to an approximate model of the human DNA. What an American hero she is! Praise her and her work for DNA. May God bestow her with gifts and prizes in the name of the United States of America.
 
The Big Leagues of L.A.

January 5, 2013


Song being played: Give Me Some Money, Baby - The Kim Sisters


The trumpets blared whilst the music sang its tune; it couldn't been more sensational than this. The singer danced her way to stardom as she whispered her song into the air with a lovely tune. The people were smiling and talking in such individual fancy banter that it felt like a classy ball in here. The singer, Katy, I think her name was, slowly slides her hand down the microphone as she sang the chorus of the song. More trumpets blared into the air which lead to a more vibrant atmosphere in here. The room was ever more filled with a glow of conversations and smiles. Everyone here was here for a lovely time. Near me, the Los Angeles Times publisher sat adjacent to me as he mumbled to his friend some important work. The friend nodded and left, and the publisher shifted his attention to me.

"Well, Mr. Lin, you seemed to be interested in such a deal," his smile lighted his face with a wicked tone.

I leaned back against the chair, "Why not? I've gotten myself in such a pickle already, maybe I should fancy my chances even more." I smile slowly crept its way onto my face.

"You seemed happy about this? Are you sure?" the publisher raised his hand. A waitress holding an order walked by and asked what he needs, "Just a glass of water, please."

"Just a glass, too, please," I smile to the waitress as she left with a wink on her mind. I shifted to the publisher again as he approached to me once more.

"I mean, you haven't really lived up to your expectations years ago. You said you changed, now, but... I don't know," he sighed as he took one more glance at me with doubt. I had made some mistakes in the past and I'm not proud of them, but hey, I ended up here in this classy room; I must've done something good to please this publisher.

"Don't worry, Mr. A., I can assure you that I've been good this year. I've come clean to my superior, I can confirm it, if you insist," I responded. I couldn't really assure that, but I did my best.

"Well, no need. I've check your backgrounds. But I'm still a little worried about you."

"Oh, Mr. A., please." A smudge on his face told me he's still doubting me.

"Well, Mr. Lin, if you can prove your worth. I can give you one more job," the publisher sighed as he leaned closer to me. "If you do this, I can promise you more money than all your previous jobs combined."

I smiled at such an opportunity. I knew I hist the jackpot with him, "Well, what is it? I'm on for it."

The waitress came in as she held two glasses of water towards our table. She smiled at us as she set the two glasses down, "Two glasses of water, here."

"Thank you," both of us said in unison to the waitress as she left to tend to other people's needs.

The publisher continued but he had to whisper it to me, "The mayor of L.A. What would you say?" He let out another chuckle as he took a sip of water.

"What?!" I nearly screamed.

"That's right. The mayor. Take it or leave it," he let out a wicked smile as he set his glass down.

"Why? You know how dangerous that is."

"That's why the pay is bigger," the publisher took another sly face just to mess with me.

I sighed, "Why do you want the mayor?"

"The bill he passed last week. It's interfering with business." Business, well, that's just bullshit. I grudged but I knew I had to accept it to earn my worth. I couldn't let myself down.

"Well, I guess I have to accept." We shook hands. The publisher was the only one smiling here.

"Good choice, Jeremy Lin. Good choice..." A laughed only the devil can create bloodied my ears.
 
Top