According to this story, the real reason the White House authorized the Air Force One/F-16 flyby of New York was to provide President Obama an opportunity to apologize. In a related story, the White House ordered the Pentagon to release the detainee photos so President Obama could stand in front of the cameras this week and tell the world, once again, America is sorry.

An unnamed source states, “There just aren’t enough U.S. atrocities and crimes to keep us apologizing for the next four years. We’re getting desperate.” In a recent secret White House staff meeting, experts mulled possible future apologies: U.S. treatment of Native Americans, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, treatment of prisoners of war in all previous wars, any war America actually won, dry skin, Chicago Cubs (any year), 1980's "Heaven's Gate", Carrot Top,  Devo, Family Guy, the Al Gore/Tipper Gore kiss (shudder), mullets, the Mustang II, the Pinto, the Pacer, the Gremlin, Janet Reno actually dancing, Janet Napalotano looking too much like Janet Reno, the 1980-81 season of Saturday Night Live, gray hair, disco, Happy Days after Fonzie jumped the shark, and the entire 1970s.  

The White House would not publicly comment on this story but did state they are actively seeking ideas from the general public. Please send your apology ideas* to:

In the last installment, after G.I. Joe leaves Government Man the airport to go tell his story to the American People, he finds himself trapped in a cab driven by none other than his terrorist nemisis, Abdul, whom he captured years ago in Afghanistan.

We join Joe as he rides in the back of the cab with the Taxi Driver Abdul,

G.I. JOE: What do you plan to do with me, Abdul?

TAXI DRIVER: (laughs) I’ll drive you to the office of the Daily News, of course! Do not fear me, Joe. I am a simple taxi driver trying to make a living, that is all.

G.I. JOE: Forgive me if I don’t believe you. 

TAXI DRIVER: There is nothing to forgive, Joe. You are an infidel, I expect nothing less.  Tell me, why do you wish to go to the Daily News? Are they writing a story on you?

G.I. JOE: It’s my business, not yours.

TAXI DRIVER: Have it your way. I am just curious. You know, the Daily News did a story on the Taliban before you captured me. They sent a young woman reporter. She wore a burka for her interviews and was very respectful. She never called us terrorists, but used the proper term ‘insurgent.’  She wrote about your soldiers, too, about the many innocent civilians the Americans had killed. (his eyes narrow in the rear view mirror as he looks back at Joe).

Joe looks out the window expressionlessly and in silence. "Closed” signs cover many windows. Most gas stations are shuttered and, those still open sell gas at over 5 dollars a gallon. Joe doesn’t understand what’s happened to America since he’s been gone.  Not another word is spoken until, as promised, they arrive at the offices of the media  giant The Daily News.   

TAXI DRIVER: We are here. That will be 25 dollars.

Joe pulls out his wallet and hands over a twenty and ten dollar bill.

G.I. JOE: Keep the change.

TAXI DRIVER: Thank you. You are most generous for an infidel dog. Would you like me to wait for you?

G.I. JOE: Get lost. (turns and walks to the revolving door)

TAXI DRIVER: (laughs) Impossible, infidel! I have a GPS! Ha ha!

As the cab pulls away, Joe looks up and down the street, half expecting an ambush. It doesn’t feel like home, but more like a third world country, like he’s still overseas conducting a covert op. It’s all wrong.

Joe steps into the lobby and asks the security guard to see a reporter. Over thirty minutes later a plain-looking young woman in jeans approaches.

WOMAN REPORTER: Are you…G.I. Joe?  

G.I. JOE: (gets up and extends his hand) Yes, Ma’am. Formerly G.I. Joe, now just ‘Joe’.

WOMAN REPORTER: (doesn’t extend her hand) I see. What can I do for you?

G.I. JOE: (lowers his hand, confused by her curtness) I have information your paper might want.

WOMAN REPORTER: Don’t tell me, it’s about your exploits in Iraq and Afghanistan, right? I bet you’re trying to sell a book or something. I’m sorry, but we don’t give free publicity to self-glorifying veterans trying to make a buck. Peddle it to Fox or the Military Channel.

G.I. JOE: (laughs) It’s nothing like that. It isn’t really even about me or the war. It’s bigger than that. Please, just give me some of your time. Can we talk in your office?

WOMAN REPORTER: Her eyebrow perks up. She looks Joe up and down, rolls her eyes and motions for him to come with her. You’ve got five minutes.

They enter an elevator and emerge on the 15^th floor. As they walk thought the giant space Joe observes dozens of empty cubicles. Here and there a bored reporter quietly types on a keyboard or idly surfs the internet. 

G.I. JOE: This place is almost deserted. Where are all your reporters?  

WOMAN REPORTER: (disgusted) We’re completely converting to a online publication in about a month. No one is buying papers anymore, haven’t you heard? Where have you been?

G.I. JOE: Deployed.

WOMAN REPORTER: Sure, whatever. Anyway, we’ve been staying afloat due to generous investors but we can’t stop the inevitable.

G.I. JOE: What kind of investors?

WOMAN REPORTER:  Concerned and enlightened people from Mexico and Europe. We even received a bailout from the government.

G.I. JOE: (Shocked) You’re receiving foreign funds and government backing?

WOMAN REPORTER: (Impatient and condescending) Investment, Mr. Joe. I’m sure you don’t understand such things..

G.I. JOE: (coldly) No, I’m sure I don’t. (whispers under his breath) I call it state-controlled media.  

She motions for Joe to sit down by her cubicle desk. He scans the numerous journalism awards decorating her wall among photos of her with prominent political figures, mostly eastern liberal Democrats and Republicans. Below her diploma from WellesleyCollege is a picture of her in a burka (her face was exposed) surrounded by smiling Taliban fighters. Below that is a Pulitzer Prize for journalism for a column entitled, “The Other Border Crisis: Life and Death in the Hindu Kush.” He recognizes a younger Abdul standing in the background.  His heart sinks in his chest. Other journalism awards dot the wall for columns on the environment and social causes.  

She opens a drawer and pulls out a single sheet of paper. On it is a checklist with the title: TEMPLATE FOR APPROVED STORIES REGARDING THE US MILITARY.

WOMAN REPORTER: Now, Mr. Joe, tell me which of these categories applies to your story:…Is this regarding gays in the military?

 G.I. JOE: No.

WOMAN REPORTER:…abuse or torture of prisoners?

G.I. JOE: No.

WOMAN REPORTER:…outrageous Pentagon spending?

G.I. JOE: No. 

WOMAN REPORTER:…friendly fire?

G.I. JOE: No.

WOMAN REPORTER:…soldiers speaking out against the war? 

G.I. JOE: No, absolutely not, can I please... 

WOMAN REPORTER:…injustices to soldiers inflicted by a republican administration?

G.I. JOE: (getting irritated) Lady, just let me…

WOMAN REPORTER:…how much soldiers approve of the current administration? 

G.I. JOE: (raising his voice) No! It’s nothing like that. If you give me a chance I’ll explain.  

WOMAN REPORTER: (she drops her pencil, leans back and exhales) Okay, what’s this all about.  

Joe briefly details the incident with Government Man at the airport. While be speaks she examines her pencil and looks at her watch. When he finishes she takes a deep breath and puts the sheet of paper back in her desk.  

WOMAN REPORTER: That is a very interesting tale, Mr. Joe, but I’m afraid our readers wouldn’t be interested. It’s not news.

G.I. JOE: Not news? I’m bring you proof elements of our government are in collusion with foreign powers to undermine the sovereignty and integrity of the United States and you say it’s not news?

WOMAN REPORTER: Do you really have proof? If not, it’s only your word.

G.I. JOE: I can get proof, but isn’t that what you are supposed to do as an “investigative journalist?”

WOMAN REPORTER: Even if you do have some type of “proof” (she raises her hands into quotation marks) what you probably saw was legitimate lobbying and campaign contributions. This is still a free country, Mr. Joe, regardless of what some of your kind think.

G.I. JOE: I see, and who are “my kind?” (he doesn’t raise his hands into quotation marks).

WOMAN REPORTER: Alright, enough of the charade. We’re not going to write a story about this, unless it’s about how paranoid you right-wing reactionary nut jobs are.

G.I. JOE: Why do you assume I’m a right-wing nut job?

WOMAN REPORTER: Please, don’t insult my intelligence. You were in the military, right? You all come from backwoods red states, clinging to you guns and religion. Its one thing to join the military because of poverty, but you people stay in. You enjoy it! 

 G.I. JOE: Ever heard of patriotism?

WOMAN REPORTER: Patriotism is the code word your kind uses to justify racism, imperialism and oppression.   Face it, Joe, you just hate who’s running the government right now. Your kind are dangerous. You’re the militias, the Klan, the Minutemen…all homegrown terrorists if you ask me.

G.I. JOE: I got it; you hate me and my kind. Message received. But don’t you care about corruption in our government?

WOMAN REPORTER: (leans back and crosses her arms smugly) I don’t see corruption. I see a disgruntled soldier sticking his nose in matters well above his pay grade.

G.I. JOE: (gets up to leave) This is going nowhere. I’m sorry you feel this way. I’m also sorry you are the gate keeper to the national media. Before I leave, just one quick question. If I’m a terrorist, who are they? (points to the picture of her and the Taliban).

WOMAN REPORTER: (lifts her chin defiantly) They are the real patriots, Joe, true freedom fighters. They stand against those like you in places like Afghanistan, Cuba, Venezuela, and Columbia.

 G.I. JOE: (smiles) Wow, you a poor, confused soul. I know most of these freedom fighters and I remember you. You came into area of operations expecting the US military shuttle you from one end of Afghanistan to another. And we did, all in hopes you might write a half-way objective piece on our operations.  You didn’t. Did you know these ‘freedom fighters’ planned to ambush you a few days later and hold you for ransom? Our intelligence discovered the plot and killed or captured most of the killers in this picture. They wanted you for as another Daniel Pearl, but only after you printed your glowing story about them. I bet you didn’t know that, did you?

WOMAN REPORTER: (ashen) You’re lying.

 G.I. JOE: If you don’t believe me call the Handy Dandy Cab Company and ask for Abdul. (points to Abdul’s picture) He’ll be glad to tell you why they accommodated you only because you would unknowingly lead them to large groups of US soldiers. You were bait, a useful idiot. In fact, it was Abdul who revealed the whole plot, thanks to a little water boarding. Isn’t that ironic, you owe your life, and a Pulitzer, to water boarding. Print that in your dying newspaper or save it for the internet, I don’t care.

Joe turns to leave without looking back. He finds himself back on the street. Abdul’s cab is nowhere in sight.

G.I. JOE: First the government and now the media. (he sighs) That leaves the people.

Joe puts on his Oakley sunglasses, shoves his hands in his pockets and sets out down the deserted street to find America.

To Be Continued…

I was there tonight in Atlanta. I arrived at the state capitol shortly before 7pm and stood surrounded by thousands. Here are a few quick observations:

1. Normal, average, Americans - Most looked like middle-class suburbanites. Like me, I don't think most have ever been to a protest before. Most were in 30s or older. Many were senior citizens. While most were white, many were black. I was surprised to see one black man (in his thirties perhaps) holding a picture of Sarah Palin. I saw about as many women as men. Some brought their children.

2. Numbers - The massive crowd stretched completely around the west side of the capital building, down MLK street, down Washington Street, to Capital and Mitchell Streets. I watched on a Jumbotron set up on the corner of MLK as I couldn't see the actual stage. There was barely room to breath.

3. Respectful - I heard no foul language. While there were many signs mocking Obama and Congress, but none were mean. Some were downright funny (like “Obama is not my Momma” and “Are you drinking the tea or the Kool-Aid?’)

4. Frustration and anger – Like me, these are people who don't anger easily and are very busy with jobs and lives. It took a lot of frustration and anger to get them into the streets. Interestingly, I think the most damning speeches of the night were reserved for the Republicans who helped get us into this situation. A few Republican state reps made mention of this several times.

5. Energy - The crowd was fired up. They are serious and aren't going away. They are not going back to sleep. Apathy is dead.

6. The Constitution - Every time a speaker hit on the themes of spending and taxation  the crowd roared, but accountability was the number one theme of the night. They passed out pocket copies of the Constitution and urged everyone to read it. The speakers kept returning to the theme of accountability and the crowd couldn’t get enough.

6. The Left....left - I saw no counter-protesters - If they were there, they kept their mouth shut. I don’t think they knew what to do or how to take us. Eventually they will, but not this night. Tonight, the Silent Majority was silent no more. Tonight, we roared and the Left shook.

7. Media - I saw one TV camera though I did see additional coverage when I got back to the hotel room. What I did see appeared fair.

In the last installment, G.I. Joe is unexpectedly called home from overseas by Government Man, who he finds waiting for him at the airport, disheveled and hung over from years of non-stop partying on the tax-payers dime. Government Man tells Joe he isn’t going back into combat, he’s being mustered out, and his retirement has been spent on other programs. In the deserted airport Joe learns Government Man is corrupt and is on the payroll of America’s worst adversaries. At the end of the last episode we left a furious G.I. Joe, a bloody copy of the US Constitution in his hands, looming over the cowering Government Man.

 Joe throws the Constitution on top of the whimpering bureaucrat.

G.I. JOE: Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve read that document, though I doubt you have. No, I’m going out there (points to the world beyond the airport). I’m going to spread the word about you and what you’ve done. Don’t fear me, little man. Fear them, the American people.

Joe turns and heads for the door. Government Man sits up and smiles a sly, wicked smile. His eyes narrow as he calls out after Joe.

GOVERNMENT MAN: They won’t listen to you, Joe.

Joe turns to look at Government Man, now sitting up and looking cocky.

GOVERNMENT MAN: You’re wasting your time.

G.I. JOE: I have complete faith in the American people. They’re what make us great. They’ll rise up and vote things straight. I’ll carry my message to the papers, the internet, television, and talk radio. In the light of day, you’ll be rejected.

GOVERNMENT MAN: You have been gone a long time, haven’t you Joe? Okay, have it your way. (Motions to the door) Go out there, Joe. (forms his hands in quotes) ‘Spread the word’ about me and my kind. When you come to your senses, come find me. I’ll be in Washington D.C., comfortably in power. In the end, you’ll come back to me on your knees. You’re one of us, Joe. Last I checked, the government signs your paycheck. You’re part of the machine. Out there, you’re a freak.

G.I. JOE: You’re wrong.

Joe turns away, but feels uneasy. It’s the same feeling he gets when he’d stepping into combat right after learning the intelligence is wrong. He feels naked. 

He steps out into the sunlight. The loading zone in front of the terminal is almost vacant. Trash blows across the dirty concrete. A single taxi waits by the curb. Joe walks up and taps on the window. The back door unlocks. Joe opens it and throws his duffle bag across the seat and hops in. 

G.I. JOE: Take me to the offices of the Daily News, please.

TAXI DRIVER: (in a heavy middle-east accent) Of course, but first I must ask a few questions.

G.I. JOE: uh….like what?

TAXI DRIVER: Are you carrying any pork products or alcohol?

G.I. JOE: That’s none of your business, mister.

TAXI DRIVER: Oh, but it is. The state and federal courts have ruled I can enforce Sharia Law within the confines of my cab. They have also ruled if those around me do not respect this, they are guilty of hate speech. So, my friend, I can ask you this question and many others. I must also know if you are Jewish or have a Bible in your possession. I can deny you a ride for any of this, or if you have a dog, or are a woman not wearing the proper Islamic garb. (the taxi driver turns and smiles like a shark) I have the law on my side…Joe.

G.I. JOE: Abdul. (Joe slowly moves his hand toward his concealed handgun). I captured you two years ago in Afghanistan. What are you doing here?

TAXI DRIVER: Working, of course! (he points to a taxi license on the dash board with his face and real name on it). I was released from Guantanamo earlier this year, given a visa and a job right here in America. What a country!

G.I. JOE: (anger wells as he struggles to control himself) I should have killed you when I had the chance.

TAXI DRIVER: (face becomes expressionless, eyes cold) Yes, you should have. My friends and I, we like America now…and I have many, many friends here, Joe. We are legion. Some you know, some you don’t, but we all represent the Religion of Peace. (the man quickly smiles again and waves his hand dismissively) Bahh! Enough idle chat. Business is business. Since you are an old ‘friend’, I will extend you Arab hospitality and forgo the usual questions. I will have you at the Daily News in no time. We can catch up on old times on the way.

He hacks his meter and quickly pulls way from the curve before Joe can bolt from the cab. 

To Be Continued…