CSI: American Carnage (Sunday, May 24, 2020)
IN THE CYBER – The horse’s head regards the Professor, as if determining whether the world-renowned scholar can process the information he is about to convey. The Professor’s small strike force is arrayed about a grotto within The Cyber, expectant. The Pirate with pearls for eyes says, Go ahead Ed, tell him what we know. Ed looks down at the ground and back up at the Professor. He says, It is the Jews. They are behind the spread of the disease. They use the blacks, who are also immune. We found this on the President’s site guarded by several armies of bots, Russian bots programmed to spot even unmarked Jews. But we used John the Ripper to cut them down like limp flags of ineffective code and made it through to the massive information cache, a decaying Victorian pile surrounded by a fetid moat full of garbage and the President’s old underwear. The Professor listens, aghast. My God! he exclaims. He blames the Jews! Ed says, Some of his best friends are Jews. I am a Jew, and I am proud of it. I poisoned no wells. I have infected no one. I am not calling for the reopening of the nation! Ed stamps his foot. Sarah, Timmy’s friend from the resistance potluck, says, What of the blacks? Ed says, He claims they are immune to the disease, which has been true, so he says, for centuries. Even George Washington knew it and used his blacks to fight the yellow fever and the small pox. There was one problem. Boris, genial triple-agent, says, What ees the problem? Ed says, The blacks kept getting sick and dying. Sarah says, The Autocrat has conveniently forgotten that. His strategy is clear. He will push to open the country as long as the disease is ravaging the cities, taking with it untold numbers of black citizens. It is a cynical and vicious strategy. Pete the Pirate says, Shiver me Timbers! Even Long John wouldn’t stoop that low. He’s playing to his racist base by making our black brothers and sisters walk the plank! But by God before an hour’s out we’ll stove in his old blockhouse like a rum puncheon. Laugh, by thunder. laugh! Before an hour’s out, ye’ll laugh upon the other side. Them that die’ll be the lucky ones. Timmy says, Hold on there. Maybe our best bet is to penetrate the Dark Web, find that cache and blow it sky high! Wouldn’t that be the right angle? Pete says, Hang them! That’s the right angle, by crackie! Sarah says, This may be the time. The Autocrat has torn loose from his moorings and is crashing across the landscape, ripping divots in every clipped piece of green. Maybe you’re right. We are here, already. She turns to Ed, who is munching on some granola. Sarah says, Can you guide us to the information cache? Ed says, Wireshark will help. Keep the fires low, no smoke. The route is short but treacherous. You need to see. Them bots probably reduplicated already, but the Ripper should take care of em, unless they’ve deployed the AI. Mohammed, Timmy’s friend, says, This is the chance of a lifetime! Ay, says Ed, should we return to tell the tale to Michael Wolff. There’s the rub. – Sunday, May 24, 2020