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Why are these books important?

The Case Files of Dirk Dangerous

(As Recorded by his Noble & Faithful Assistant, “cleangov”)

The Case of the Poverty-Stricken Dreamer

It was another hot, humid night in D.C. and Ace Detective Dirk Dangerous was amusing himself following the news of the ongoing attacks on our illustrious president.  Dirk found it amusing that Hillary had asked Trump during one of the debates if he would accept the results of the election if he lost.  Now, two years after she lost, she and her many supporters in the media and the Democrats/Progressives/Socialists STILL refused to accept it, and were sure they could pin something impeachable on him, all the while ignoring their own much larger crimes.  Anyway,

The phone rang.  “Dangerous Detective Agency, Dirk Dangerous speaking, how may I help you?”

“Is that really your name?” asked a deep voice.

“Not really, it’s Mortimer Jones, but somehow that doesn’t seem to inspire confidence in a private detective, so I decided to change it.  I couldn’t let a silly thing like a name stop me.”

“Are you any good?”

“I’m very good at finding answers and making problems go away.”

“Good answer.”

“Thank you.  Do you happen to have any problems you’d like to see go away, or are you looking for answers?”

“I need answers.”

“Don’t make it too easy on me, like, by volunteering any information.  What kind of answers do you need?”

“What do you know about a guy named Thomas Paine?”

“Nothing.  Does he live in the D.C. area?”

“Nah, he’s been dead a long time from what I hear.  Some kind of an author.  I want to know why he’s so important to this town.  I want to know why his books are so important.”

“Well, if I may venture a possibly premature opinion, if I haven’t heard of him, and he’s got anything to do with D.C., then he can’t be all that important.  And, may I ask, why do you need this information?  And, may I have your name?”

My name’s not important.  Just call me Deep Pockets and that will be close enough.  And as far as why I wanna’ know, well, that’s my business.  All you need to know is I’m willing to pay for the information, and I may have other jobs for you after this one.”

[At this point dear reader, you’re probably wondering how I happened to be privy to both sides of the conversation.  That’s easy.  It was on speaker phone.  Anyway, back to our tale.]

Dirk continued, “Ok, I got it.  I’m on the case.  How quickly do you need answers?”

“By tomorrow.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not.  Can you do it?”

“Sure,” Dirk lied, “I can do anything.  What time tomorrow?”

“5 PM.”

Dirk swallowed, “OK, how do I reach you?”

“You don’t.  I’ll call you.”

“How do I get paid?”

“With money.”

[At this point the conversation turned to the mundane topics of daily rate and earnest money (down payment), how to actually get the money in our hot little hands, etc.  I’ll spare you the boring details, besides, one isn’t supposed to slow the narrative down with such pedestrian issues as actually getting paid for one’s labors.]

Dirk hung up the phone and looked at me across the desk.  I would describe his expression as bleak.

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I’m just the noble and faithful assistant.  I figured you had some kind of an angle up your sleeve and I was eager to see what it was.  What’s your angle?”

“I have no angle.  I don’t know who this guy Paine is or why he’s so important, if he is.  I never heard of him, and I thought I knew all the power players in this town.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

Dirk gave me another look that let me know he did not appreciate my dry wit.  I admit it’s an acquired taste.

Dirk’s face was unusually expressive.  He is not a good poker player.  One can usually read him from the other side of the room.  In this case it looked like he was being forced to eat lima beans, which for 99% of the population is pretty awful.  (I mean, look, when was the last time you saw lima beans on the menu in your favorite restaurant?  I rest my case.)  In this case I was pretty sure I knew the cause of his distress.

“You’re not excited about the prospect of actually having to read this guy’s book, to find out what the big deal is about it, right?”

“It’s just that I don’t have a lot of time to wade through some book that’s probably boring as hell, just to try to figure out what about it is important.  I’m a busy guy.  Places to go, people to see, you know?”

“That’s a very good point you’re making.”  The actual problem was that Dirk wasn’t much of a reader.  He was OK for short snippets on the Internet, or the sports page, but I don’t think I ever saw him curl up on a rainy day with a good book.  Give him a chance to go out and tail some cheating Senator through that same rain, however, and he would be all over it like a Labrador Retriever, launching off shore into the river to get that dead duck.  A man of action, that’s our Dirk.

I diplomatically suggested an alternative.  “Why don’t you try fastbookx.com?  They have short summaries of books that are well written, and they get right down to the main ideas and important facts quickly.  No filler.  They don’t have many titles available yet, but this sounds like the kind of book they might have on their list.”

“But we don’t have much time.  How can I get even a short summary shipped to me off of some website in time to meet this deadline?”

“Not a problem.  You can read the summary right on your screen, instantly.  Plus, they usually have a very succinct story about the author, or a brief bio that, again, zeroes in on the main facts about the author.  These guys are all about saving people lots of time.”

Dirk’s face brightened and I could tell he was beginning to see a way through the darkness.  It’s indeed gratifying to be able to show someone a firm trail through the swamp that sometimes passes for life, isn’t it?

At this point I confess to not knowing some of the details that transpired next, as I was called away to referee a curling contest in Virginia, and to join in the rousing, yet sedate, alcoholic celebrations afterwards.  I made it back to the office just before 5 the next day, in time to hear Dirk talking on the phone again to old Mr. Deep Pockets:

“. . .so you see, this guy was not just any old writer.  How he happened to appear, at just that precise point in history, coming out of nowhere, to write the things he wrote, in that location, that had such a huge effect on the spirit, the morale, of such a huge percentage of the population, well, the only other person and writing that compares to it is Thomas Jefferson and the Declaration of Independence.  I’m not kidding.

“And to give it all away, to not take any royalties for his written works, to let them be copied and reproduced freely by anyone who wanted to, both here and in Britain and Europe, well, it was a magnificent gesture on his part, but it ultimately led to him dying penniless, and largely unappreciated by many of the so-called leaders around the world.

“Come to think of it, I think this guy is still unappreciated.  I don’t even know if kids in America get to read his works in school.  Probably considered too dangerous.  They might get ideas, just like the folks did back in 1776.  And if that happened, then where would we be?”

And so, dear reader, with that I leave you, until the next time.

“cleangov.”