Author Steven Clark Bradley

Is Patriot Acts A Plausible Scenario? You Be The Judge Part 2 - The Right-Wing Phenomenon

stevenbradley | March 10, 2009 12:21


Recently, I wrote about a question I had posed to readers whether they thought the scenario of my novel Patriot Acts was plausible or far fetched. I demonstrated, through articles by well-known writers on the Middle East, that Iran had a mindset for nuclear war. This week it was reported that Iran had already enriched enough nuclear material for a bomb that could be produced by the end of 2009. Yesterday, it was further stated that Iran actually had enough material for as many as fifty nuclear devices.

It is obvious that the plot of Patriot Acts is one that could most easily transpire. Yet, Iran needs to build a network throughout the United States of hoodlum and enraged Patriots who have let their rage grow bigger than the reason for it. In Patriot Acts, just as Iran needs to link into such groups, The radical right-wing militia groups that are even now amassing in their hidden away shelters getting ready to take back their liberty while infringing upon the freedom of others from whom they had received no offense.
 

 
A Patriot can disagree vehemently with the elected leader of his country, yet, pray so stalwartly for his growth of faith, and God's hand of protection, praying that he be wise & even as an opponent, remain ready to stand up and lay down his life, in the President's defense. How many liberals would have pledged thus for George W. Bush? Let’s face it, Conservatives, those who believe the Constitution, we are those who hold it as unchangeable and for all time, without regard for changes in culture and without sway even in the face of the loss of values and/or faith. Have we really slowed down and ask ourselves if we really know how easy it would be to lose this nation? I mean for it to be buried under the sands of time, a relic to be studied in amazement at how the Mighty had fallen.

Democracy is a strange thing, because you cannot keep it unless you truly love it. It is hard, arduous and constantly under attack by those who speak of freedom but who lay in wait to get us to sell our birthright for a false “security” and the green god of America. The American people seem to have grown tired of self-rule.

The leaders of today grew up at a time when entitlement meant that they could, while others could not. With the times that are, even now, staring America in the face render the radical and the seriously pissed off to gather together, by any means, to set aside whatever morals or principles that would certainly otherwise impede them and to set their minds on taking whatever they might need from whatever outstretched hand offered it. In paraphrase of the words of Obama’s Chief of Staff, Rom Emanuel, neither side will let a crisis go to waste.



 
America is not like the ancient nations of Asia. China, South Korea and many others which have history span thousands of years of history. Their governments could fall, but they would always be a people. America is a hybrid nation, and it has always been that ability to work together, regardless of the differences that made us great. Yet, America is like fine crystal, gloriously valuable, beautiful to behold, but so very delicate to the touch, when it comes to the current revolution of change, which is even now transforming America into highly controlled, powerfully ruled and dangerously sensitive nation that no longer follows nor values the very principles we, ourselves established. America’s fabric would unravel as fast as the constitution was shredded; only to be replaced with a very efficient and brutal regime that will work woe against any who might seek to bring back the America of the past. This is the world we now face, and in the midst of such tyranny and abuse, those who would seek to destroy what they consider to be an imposter would be easy pickings for a nation like Iran to deliver an attack so devastating, from which, The United States could not easily recover.

WARNING TO ALL MILITIAS


Such groups are very active throughout the United States. You have seen some videos of several militia groups in this article, because I wanted to demonstrate that these people are truly out there and they are stronger than ever and are serious about wreaking havoc on the United State. There are many State Militia organizations that serve a great role in the nation. Those are the true patriots who love America and is ready to defend her against enemies, foreign and/or domestic. They do not represent the force of treachery that is described in Patriot Acts.

Patriot Acts reveals just what such people could do to a nation that has closed its eyes to the disaster that is about to befall them. For this reason, I feel that Patriot Acts is a very important novel; one that can get America’s attention and can perhaps help us to once again truly care. Steven Clark Bradley

Today, America is at war with religious radicals who are hell-bent on destroying Western civilization. We have seen what radical religious fanatics can do to bring a peaceful nation to war. Read "Last Ounce of Devotion" from my next novel, Patriot Acts and see what would happen if our own brand of fanatics, right here at home, teamed up with the Islamic radicals with whom we are at war abroad? The concept is both challenging and lethal! What can turn a child into an extremist?

How can a child who was born in the land of the free be transformed into a man who seeks to destroy the land of his birth? I think you will find this chapter stimulating and frightening by virtue of its plausibility and the probability of seeing this scenario played out within the borders of the United States of America. The actions taken to protect The United States of America are not radical reactions to terrorism. They are Patriot Acts!

Excerpt From Patriot Acts
Last Ounce of Devotion by Steven Clark Bradley

Northern Indiana - 2009

Toto, Indiana was no ordinary almost-village. It had some great little stores that sold just about anything. It had countryside, farmland, an abundance of wild reefer, a large contingent of KKK want-a-be’s and the largest concentration of militia groups in the nation. These were not just a bunch of bed and breakfast warriors, but good husbands. They were involved daddies and mommies, devoted believers…at least on Sundays. There were serious and lower-scale business men ready to fight for each other as one with those they employed. All of them were unswervingly ready to give their last ounce of devotion to create a world where freedom was shouted loudly while bigotry reigned king. The larger towns and small cities around the Podunk spot of Earth that was Toto, Indiana were the fastest growing small cities of the state. Knox, Indiana was the County Seat and had progressed from the “Bloody Bucket Bar” to the “Court House View Tap”. No one was being thrown out of the windows anymore, but the same crazies still drank their fill but were too old to carouse any longer like they used to. The almost town place, North Judson still had a sense of the rustic and, like Knox, was a fundamentally good place to bring up the next generation of defenders of the Constitution, at least that was how they mostly viewed it along Toto Road, the one road that entirely spanned the county. Staying on Toto Road was like a place of refuge. One could traverse the county, into the depth of this country enclave and still feel secure inside their car. Thoughts of turning left or right off of Toto Road could only be carried out safely by those born in Starke County. Strangers are not too well digested in the land of a thousand armies.


The folks around Toto, Indiana did not like them strangers coming in there and looking all over their Jeeps, gawking at their arsenals all set up for the day that the United States Government would most certainly tear up the Constitution and cast it to the wind. The globalists elected to the offices of the land, down from the most menial, elected position in the nation and up to the most powerful office in the world, would most certainly need to be overcome by the people’s sheer willingness to keep what they had yearned and striven for. Almost every car was known that drove up in there. Today was no different in road traffic than any other, except for the special passenger that the old Ford Escort was carrying, as it turned off Indiana Highway 35 North and onto Toto Road heading due west.
~~~
Len Garret sat with his feet up on his coffee table and thought about all he had lived through that had brought his to the point of departure that was at hand. He had some visitors who’d be arriving shortly. For the moment though, Garret held a bottle of Tequila in his hand and stared straight up at the portrait of his father that was hung prominently over the Fireplace. Garret had commissioned the painting himself, as a tribute the man who had both beaten him on a regular basis and who had instilled in him a stiff determination to never give into the internationalists, globalists, traitors, fags, or any other lowlife epitaph that he could recall hearing his father use for those who ran the country. Though Len Garret’s father was a feared and respected memory, that painting over the fireplace served more as a constant reminder that he had unfinished business to conduct than as an act of true feeling for the old man about whom even Len Garret himself had wondered a few times if his father Russell Garret had gone mad. “Even so, if Dad was crazy then guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”Len Garret thought as his eyes grew heavy. His father’s greatest wish would be realized, starting today…everything would start today.
~~~
 
The old Ford Escort was heading west on Toto Road. For the driver, driving this patch of asphalt was an everyday occurrence. For the dark-faced passengers in the back seat, they had sworn that such a wild and overgrown area would certain spell some kind of mischief against them. Weren’t all these retched people along this backwater place Christians? That point, alone made this journey one that made these guests shaky and worried. Yet, it was about something that would make the world change forever and well worth the risk. The Escort drove into the miniopolis of Toto and turned left onto County Line Road. There was no turning back. It was like a little bit of Vegas in Hicksville, USA.
~~~
Len Garret’s fingers felt the skin covering his own visage as he looked at his father’s face. He started staring at the painting profoundly, so deeply, just like a thousand other times, and his eyes flickered, closed, then opened and the remained shut and a world that had long disappeared took on a shape and life, and he saw it all afresh. It was a day he recalled easily, because it had caused him to grow into the man he was today, having had his childhood cut short. He saw that boy again. He had seen him too often after having had his order to his brain to stay awake disobeyed. Each time he ventured into the recesses of his slumbering mind it was like opening the wounds that had closed up outwardly, but still raw and hemorrhaging on the inside.


He saw the boy, in his reverie, seated in the huge hall reading the document that his father had so loved while glancing around at the armed men and women stationed about him. His father had given his last ounce of devotion when the country he had almost given his life for ultimately took it away along with his daughter and wife. In the service of his country and while seeking the protection of his people, which was the goal and stated purpose of the sacred parchment anyway, and which he had believed until realizing that it was really nothing more than a not-so-hidden or secretive organization. But then, politicians did specialize in perception, and he had fallen prey to their tactics, though not necessarily of his own will. He knew he was young, just Seventeen years old seated there in the grand hall waiting for something, a ruling, a judgment.


He was not exactly a child, but except in such cases as this boy, most children his age still never thought about such things. He only knew that his moment had come too early. He wanted to kill them all one minute and run home and play his half-life video game, the next. His mind now knew that his day of games was over. He knew he would see his death, and now forcefully knew that childhood was not a never-ending run and that he was a child no more, for he knew he would die. . .

You can read the rest of this passage out of Patriot Acts or the whole novel by getting your very own copy by clicking on one of the links below.

Do You Remember When America Changed Forever
 


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Is Patriot Acts A Plausible Scenario? You Be The Judge Part 1

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