In my blogs " Civilian National Security Force" a made several predictions about the new administrations plans for defense. Several have already started to emerge as detailed in "Civilian National Security Force Revisted". Now, two more predictions from those blogs are starting to emerge as reality: 

8. The defense budget, including supplementals, will drop from about $800 to $400 billion over four years. That money will be used to pay for “New-New Deal” programs and the CNSF.

9. There will be a freeze on big-ticket military acquisition programs across the board, with legislative exceptions for those impacting traditionally strong unions sectors

This story from today's Defense News:

...the Obama White House is backing the acquisition of more C-17 transports, UAVs, and small warships and prepositioning vessels...the Air Force said it did not need additional C-17s, forcing prime contractor Boeing to end production in 2010. Congress has kept the program alive by annually inserting funds in the defense spending bills.

Sources said the new administration will move far more quickly to shrink defense spending..."Obama is faced with a situation that will require him to find big savings on discretionary spending. If he doesn't, he can kiss his domestic agenda goodbye," said Loren Thompson of the Arlington, Va.-based Lexington Institute.

Thompson said recent Congressional Budget Office assessments show existing defense plans are unaffordable, and that likely will make necessary cuts to readiness and acquisition accounts.

He added that with a growing fiscal meltdown adding pressure on available federal dollars, it is doubtful the administration will be able to carry out plans to add about 90,000 new soldiers and marines.

I predicted the defense budget would be raided like a piggy bank to pay for the domestic agenda, except for key pork projects in key congressional districts. Six days into the new adminstration and the wheels are already turning.

Its 2010 and G.I. Joe has returned from fighting America’s enemies in Afghanistan and Iraq. His mission is unfinished and he doesn’t know why he’s been summoned home. Fresh off the airplane, he finds himself in an empty airport. No welcoming committee meets him. In a corner of the vacant airport sits Government Man, disheveled and asleep, holding a hand-printed placard like a limo driver. On it are the words “American Soldier.”

G.I. Joe walks up to him. His boots, fresh with the dust of war, echo ghostlike across the deserted concourse. He moves to wake the man up but steps back. The man reeks of stale alcohol, his face is unshaven and his hair un-kept. Government Man’s tie is half loosened and his shirt stained with beer and wine. G.I. Joe, though gaunt and tired from a decade of combat, is clean shaven and professional. He shakes his head with disgust and nudges Government Man.

G.I. JOE: Hey, buddy, wake up. Wake up!

GOVERNMENT MAN: Uh…what? Where am I?

G.I. JOE: You’re at the airport. I assume by your sign you’re here to give me a lift back to base.

Government man turns the sign around and eyes it though confused, bloodshot eyes. After a few seconds awareness dawns on him.

GOVERNMENT MAN: ohhhh…right. That’s right.

G.I. JOE: Maybe you can tell me why I was called back? There’s still lots of work to do back there in Iraq and Afghanistan.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (runs his hands through his hair and tries not to make eye contact with the soldier) Yea, about that…

Government Man tries to get up and almost falls forward. G.I. Joe catches him and prevents him from falling on his face.

G.I. JOE: Slow down there, cowboy! Are you okay, man? You look like you had a pretty good time last night.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (gains his balance and laughs) You have no idea! Man, I was at the best party, I swear. Chicks, booze, it seemed to last forever.

G.I. JOE: Sounds great. Where was it?

GOVERNMENT MAN: (smiling and animated) It was everywhere, brother! Coast-to-coast and glorious! Non-stop, man, non-stop! And it was all free! A bunch of guys from Wall Street paid for it all. All I had to do was vote their way on a couple of bills and they kept the money flowing.

G.I. JOE: (smiles sheepishly, almost embarrassed) Uh, sounds great. Funny, I didn’t hear about it but then again I’ve been gone for almost nine years. Maybe I’ll check it out later when my work is done, but I really need to get back to the war zone. So, can you tell me why I’m here?

GOVERNMENT MAN: Uh…well, you’re not going back.

G.I. JOE: (confused) What do you mean ‘you’re not going back?’ The job isn’t finished. We’re making real progress in Iraq and the Taliban and Al Qaeda is still making trouble in Afghanistan.

GOVERNMENT MAN: Well, ya see, I sorta spent all our money on the party.

G.I. JOE: You what??!!

GOVERNMENT MAN: It’s not my fault! I swear! Wall Street Man said he’d take care of everything. I trusted him. I mean, that guy can seriously party. When I woke up this morning I was broke and he was gone. He double crossed me, dude! I was screwed over.

G.I. Joe walks around the waiting area, shaking his head in disbelief.

GOVERNMENT MAN: So you see, Joe, there isn’t any money to keep you in the fight. I had to call you home. Sorry, dude. I think you did a great job, though!

G.I. Joe sets his jaw, narrows his eyes and grabs his ruck sack off the floor. He marches past Government Man toward the door.

G.I. JOE: Get me back to base! If I’m not over there to stop them, those bastards will be here in no time. We have to prepare now for fresh attacks on our homeland.

G.I. Joe reached the door only to realize Government Man isn’t following him. He turns to see Government Man standing where he left him, fidgeting and wringing his hands. He marches back and puts his face inches from Government Man’s trembling face. His next words, measured and controlled, barely mask his rage.

G.I. JOE: What aren’t you telling me?

GOVERNMENT MAN: I’m broke…we’re broke. Dead broke. I…I…uhh…

G.I. JOE: (quietly) Spit…it…out.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (hurried) I gotta let you go! (closes his eyes and prays he doesn’t get hit)

G.I. Joe, silent, stands in disbelief.

GOVERNMENT MAN: I’m sorry! I’m really, really sorry! I had no choice! What little money I had left has to go toward buying votes…I mean medical supplies for all those aging Baby Boomers. Please understand, I hold you in the highest esteem and I’ve tried to support you in the past, but tough times call for tough decisions.

G.I. Joe sits down and rests his chin on his hands.

G.I. JOE: Yea, you’re a real leader. So, who’s going to defend the nation?

GOVERNMENT MAN: It’s all cool. I made some deals with the UN and our allies say they’re going to be there for us whenever we need them. Uhmm…a lot of them were at the same party I was, though. But they promised they’ll do what they can!

G.I. JOE: God help us.

GOVERNMENT MAN: God? Oh, sure, right, God. Okay, well then, it was good talking to you. I hope everything turns out okay. I’ll be leaving now, okay?

Government Man slinks past where G.I. Joe is sitting.

G.I. JOE: (calls after him) Where is everyone? This airport should be packed.

Government Man stops, hesitates, and turns around.

GOVERNMENT MAN: Everyone is sorta somewhere else.

G.I. JOE: I can see that.Where? Home?

GOVERNMENT MAN: Oh…perhaps. Some of them might still have homes, I guess.

G.I. JOE: (angry) You guess?! What the he*l is going on?!

GOVERNMENT MAN: No need to yell! They’re probably out looking for jobs… or food. This time of day, my guess is most are looking for a place to sleep.

G.I. JOE: Dear Lord, what have you done?! I know National Guardsman expecting to come home to their old jobs.

GOVERNMENT MAN: I’m sure some of them still have their old jobs. There’s a chance, anyway. A 75% chance, easy. That is unless they worked in the finance, real estate, services, manufacturing, telecommunication, computer, information technology, medical services,…uhh, I’ll stop there. Look, times are tough, what can I say?

G.I. Joe shakes with rage and stares straight ahead. He gets up, grabs his gear and starts for the door again.

G.I. JOE: I’m going to walk to base. There is no way I’m riding with you. I’ll turn in my gear, collect my pension, and start over. I’m also going to pray, pray hard for our nation.

GOVERNMENT MAN: Pray? That’s a great idea. Hey, look, about that pension…

 Joe whirls around.

G.I. JOE: What about my pension? Are you going to seriously stand here and tell me you blew my pension, too?!

GOVERNMENT MAN: No! Well, not entirely. I had to cut it, but only temporarily! I swear, I’ll pay you just as soon as I can!

G.I. Joe sits down again and puts his head in his hands.

G.I. JOE: This is a bad dream.

GOVERNMENT MAN: I know this is hard to take. I understand. Look, Joe, I’ve got a few quarters. You sit here and I’m going to get you something cold to drink. Just relax, breath, and I’ll be right back.

G.I. Joe says nothing as Government Man slinks away. Lost in thought Joe suddenly realizes almost 20 minutes have passed and Government Man hasn’t returned.

G.I. JOE: (mumbles)Little weasel probably ran off. That figures.

Joe hears whispers and murmurs floating down the hallway from the baggage area. He’s heard whispers like this before, in the dark places of the world. It’s the familiar hiss of conspiracy. He gets up and silently makes his way from shadow to shadow until he finds the source. He spies Government Man and two others. One is Chinese, dressed in an Armani suit with a communist lapel pin. The other is an Arab, dressed in the expensive robes of a Sunni oil sheik. They are handing over vast amounts of cash to Government Man. It looks like a back alley drug deal.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (in low hushed tones) That will cover Wall Street Man’s bar tab, for now anyway. Let’s get the party started!

CHINESE MAN: And this gives me controlling interest and open markets, correct?

GOVERNMENT MAN: Yea, yea. Sure.

ARAB MAN: And no drilling or nuclear plants, right?

GOVERNMENT MAN: (puts on a deep and sincere expression, shakes his head solemnly) “We can’t drill ourselves out of this crisis.” Does that sound right?

ARAB MAN: Perfect! (laughs softly). And you have G.I. Joe under control, correct?

GOVERNMENT MAN: Easy, no problems. He’ll be out of the way soon enough. Those military guys are too stupid to understand anything except brute force. Just slap them on the back and say ‘I support the troops’ and they’ll do what you tell them.

CHINESE MAN: Good, then we’ll keep in touch.

They all shake hands.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (winks) Who loves you baby! (motions with his hand like a phone and mouths ‘call me’)

Chinese Man and Arab Man slip into the shadows, wiping their hands off on their clothes. No one notices a silent shadow slip back down the concourse. With a spring in his step Government Man makes his way back to where he left G.I. Joe.

GOVERNMENT MAN: Hey, Joe, here’s…(suddenly remembers he was supposed to get Joe a cold drink)…hey, you know, the machine was all out of soda. All they had was that nasty diet stuff and I didn’t think a big, tough guy like you drank that diet crap. Any way, let me drop you off at the base, it’s the least I can do…(Government Man trails off)

G.I. Joe is sitting where Government Man left him. He’s holding an ancient parchment in his calloused, scarred hand, and silently reading it.

GOVERNMENT MAN: Whatcha got there, Joe?

G.I. JOE: This? Oh, it’s a little thing called the Constitution. I always keep it with me, folded in my right breast pocket over my heart.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (looking nervous) Wow, that’s great, Joe. Well, look, I gotta go now. So if you want to walk back to base, that’s great…

G.I. JOE: (interrupts) You know, I’ve been carrying this since I can remember. I wept on it at the Battle of First Bull Run. I carried it in the Battle of San Juan Hill and in the Ardennes. During the Battle of the Bulge I burned letters from home to keep warm before I’d burn this. I held it and read it on cold nights in Korea and hot days in Vietnam. It’s stained black with sludge from the oil fires of Kuwait and Iraq. And each time it gets stained red with my own blood.

I once showed it to a captured Taliban warlord. He said mortal men couldn’t be expected to honor a mere piece of paper. He said we were fools. I told him he was wrong. I said America had over two hundred years of proof he was wrong. The old jackal laughed and said 5000 years of experience proved he was right.

G.I Joe stands up and walks toward Government Man, steel in his eye. Government Man slowly backs away, looking behind him for an escape route, afraid.  Joe holds up the Constitution, its pages torn, singed, blacked, and covered with dried blood. The words “We the People…” are still clearly visible.

G.I. JOE: So, tell me, who was right? Was it me or the old warlord? What were you doing down the hall?

GOVERNMENT MAN: (nervous) You don’t understand. What you saw…it isn’t what it looks like!

G.I. JOE: Oh, I understand. I’ve seen it before, many times in every third world country I’ve fought. It happens where the rule of men supersedes the rule of law. It’s what happens when little men betray those who’ve they’ve been entrusted to protect. It’s what happens when men prey on their fellow countrymen.

G.I. Joe continues to steadily advance on Government Man, holding the Constitution ahead of him.

GOVERNMENT MAN: (points accusingly) Alright, I’ve had enough of this. You are WAY out of line, mister. You need to stand-down! This is above your pay grade!

G.I. JOE: (coldly, with justice in his eyes and a clear voice which rings though the abandoned terminal) I, G.I Joe, do solemnly swear I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States…

GOVERNMENT MAN: Joe, put down the Constitution! You’re not qualified to interpret it. I’m a lawyer, I know best. For God’s sake, PUT DOWN THE CONSTITUTION!

Government Man stumbles and trips. He falls backwards over waiting room chairs.

G.I. JOE: …against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same…

GOVERNMENT MAN: (pleading) What do you want? Power? I can give you that! I have friends, powerful friends! WHAT DO YOU WANT??!!!

G.I. Joe advances, unrelenting, holding the Constitution up like a cross against a vampire. He continues the incantation.

G.I. JOE:… and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice….

GOVERNMENT MAN: (blubbering in a fetal position on the floor) STOP IT! You can’t do this! Leave me alone!

G.I. JOE:…SO…

GOVERNMENT MAN: I’m a member of the ruling class!

 G.I. JOE:…HELP…

GOVERNMENT MAN: I’m one of the elites!

G.I. JOE:…ME…

GOVERNMENT MAN: I’m entitled! No!!!!!!!

G.I. JOE:…GOD.

 

 

 

In H.G. Wells 19th Century science fiction classic “The Time Machine” a Victorian gentlemen invents a time machine. He hurdles forward thousands of years to the distant future and finds a world where mankind degenerates into two distinct species, Eloi and Morlocks. The Eloi live in a decaying Garden of Eden in a life of complete ease. The Morlocks dwell in the subterranean darkness, tending the dirty industries which feed and cloth the Eloi. For payment the Morlocks took only one thing…the flesh of the Eloi.

 

Let’s examine how H.G. Wells describes each race and their relationship to each other.

Wells writes of the Eloi: I could find no machinery, no appliances of any kind. Yet these people were clothed in pleasant fabrics that must at times need renewal, and their sandals… were fairly complex specimens... Somehow such things must be made.

 

Now compare this to America by simply going to your local Wal-Mart. The car your drive there was probably built overseas or built in America with foreign parts. Once you arrive at Wal-Mart, try to push your way past the hordes of illegal immigrants (doing “work Americans won’t do anymore”) to buy anything made in America. Good luck. On the way home don’t forget to fill up that car with Arab gas. The world sells us most of our finished goods, cars, clothes, electronics, energy, and an ever growing portion of our food. We only make “services” with which to service each other, and even this sector is slipping away.  

Wells writes of the Eloi: ...I soon discovered about my little hosts...was their lack of interest. They would come to me with eager cries of astonishment, like children, but like children they would soon stop examining me and wander away after some other toy…  

Wells couldn’t describe us any better than he does in this passage. American’s are known for their short attention span and even shorter memories. We flip from one diversion to another, easily distracted. We play video games, obsess over sports and are addicted to reality television. We invented the disease ‘ADHD’.  With terms like ‘failure to launch’ true adulthood is delayed for a growing portion of our ‘20- and 30-somethings.’ We’re becoming a society of fickle, spoiled children.

The only thing Wells didn’t foresee was video games. If he had, he might have described the Morlocks taking away the docile, fattened and stupid Eloi for slaughter while they still clutched their Wii remotes in their pale, pudgy hands. Speaking of ‘pale and pudgy...’ 

Wells continues to describe the Eloi: …I perceived that all had…the same soft hairless visage, and the same girlish rotundity of limb. Seeing the ease and security in which these people were living…there is no necessity - for an efficient family, and the specialization of the sexes with reference to their children's needs disappears. 

America is getting more “rotundity of limb” every year, our families are disappearing, and we’re definitely not addressing our children’s needs. We’re also witnessing the blurring of the sexes with the acceptance (no, embracing) of homosexuality, metrosexuality, radical feminism, and the transgender/sexual movement.

Homosexuals are adopting children and the need for traditional male roles is openly discouraged by our culture. More child rearing responsibilities are being foisted upon the state every year.  Senator Hillary Clinton once said, “It takes a village to raise a child.” No, it takes a village to raise an Eloi.

So what of the dreaded Morlocks, denizens of the underground industrial labyrinths? Can I make a fair comparison between them and the modern Chinese?  

Wells writes of the Morlocks: So, in the end, above ground you must have the Haves, pursuing pleasure and comfort and beauty, and below ground the Have-nots, the Workers getting continually adapted to the conditions of their labor…I wondered vaguely what foul villainy it might be that the Morlocks did under the new moon… the Morlocks made their garments, I inferred, and maintained them in their habitual needs, perhaps through the survival of an old habit of service…clearly, the old order was already in part reversed. The Nemesis of the delicate ones was creeping on apace. Ages ago, thousands of generations ago, man had thrust his brother man out of the ease and the sunshine. And now that brother was coming back changed… Great shapes like big machines rose out of the dimness, and cast grotesque black shadows, in which dim spectral Morlocks sheltered from the glare. The place, by the by, was very stuffy and oppressive, and the faint halitus of freshly shed blood was in the air. 

This passage brings to mind a recent 60 Minutes segment about American companies outsourcing computer recycling to China. It was this story which made me first think about the similarities of the Time Machine to today’s American/Chinese relationship.  Read the passage below from the article. then re-read Wells’ passage above.

This is a story about recycling - about how your best intentions to be green can be channeled into an underground sewer that flows from the United States and into the wasteland. 60 Minutes followed the trail to a place… in southern China - a sort of Chernobyl of electronic waste - the town of Guiyu…Women were heating circuit boards over a coal fire, pulling out chips and pouring off the lead solder. Men were using what is literally a medieval acid recipe to extract gold. Pollution has ruined the town. Drinking water is trucked in. Scientists have studied the area and discovered that Guiyu has the highest levels of cancer-causing dioxins in the world. They found pregnancies are six times more likely to end in miscarriage, and that seven out of ten kids have too much lead in their blood.

"These people are not just working with these materials, they're living with them. They're all around their homes. The situation…is actually pre-capitalist. It's mercantile. It reverts back to a time when people lived where they worked, lived at their shop. Open, uncontrolled burning of plastics. Chlorinated and brominated plastics is known worldwide to cause the emission of polychlorinated and polybrominated dioxins. These are among the most toxic compounds known on earth…We have a situation where we have 21st century toxics being managed in a 17th century environment” 

“The air I breathe in every day is so pungent I can definitely feel it in my windpipe and affecting my lungs. It makes me cough all the time," one worker (said)…the 60 Minutes team passed by a riverbed that had been blackened by the ash of burned e-waste.

While not a subterranean realm, it’s still an abysmal, man-made industrial hell. It is a malignant place where there is no sunshine and “great shapes rise out of the dimness and cast grotesque black shadows. A place stuffy and oppressive which changes there very people which live and work there. 

What of the evolving relationship between America and China?  

In 2005, “The Big Picture” financial blog released this insightful article. As far as I can tell, it met with little fanfare. Some of these 2005 predictions are chilling (emphasis mine):

The Peoples Bank of China (PBOC) announced to day that they are effectively

taking over the interest rate responsibilities from the US Federal Reserve…The Fed’s inability to significantly impact long rates anymore is what led to the outsourcing. 

…today's actions are the net result of the United States consuming far more goods or services than it produces. Because of that, the Chinese have accumulated nearly a trillion dollars of US Treasuries. That makes them a de facto player in setting our interest rate policy and impacting our economy. 

As we have been writing for quite some time now, the Real Estate Complex has been the most robust segment of the U.S. economy. If the Chinese can succeed (where the Fed failed) in raising U.S. long rates, the strongest part of the US economy is at risk. While we know real estate had to slow eventually, the question is how fast will it occur, and how dramatically. 

In an unlikely – but possible – scenario, the Chinese can, at will, and without ever firing a shot, inflict as much economic damage on the U.S. as if we were at war. Armed conflict becomes unnecessary when countries can net impact their competitors as if they were at war. 

What is not uncertain, however, is that our Current Account Deficit has granted a degree of control and authority to another sovereign nation over our own economy. The net results of that may be determined over the coming decade.

To emphasize the impact of the Big Picture’s 2005 predictions, in 2007 China flooded the US market with toys painted with lead-based paint. In a stunning development, Mattel Toy Company issued an apology to the Chinese manufactures, not the American public. Time Magazine wrote “Mattel needs China just as much as China needs Mattel, and it cannot afford to jeopardize its relationship with the country that produces 65% of its toys.”  

China forced an American corporate giant to grovel. The Morlocks now have the upper hand.

I'm not saying the Chinese are becoming mosters, I'm saying both nations are entering into an unhealthy and dangerous arrangement, one which is transforming us into something neither side truly wants to become. Where will this new relationship between America and China lead? Maybe H.G. Wells said it best… 

The Upper-world people might once have been the favoured aristocracy, and the Morlocks their mechanical servants: but that had long since passed away…These Eloi were mere fatted cattle, which the ant-like Morlocks preserved and preyed upon.

Wake up, America. You are being eaten.

Already the Eloi had begun to learn one old lesson anew. They were becoming reacquainted with Fear.