Hey guys! I got inspired to write this after re-watching the Newsroom. Just want to say that this fic (?) is heavily inspired by it but I'll be throwing in some issues/changing some stories. Not sure how long this will run or if it will make it past this chapter but I'm curious to know what you guys think. I just want to say that some of the views and ideas may not be similar to everyone's and I don't mean to mock if your's happen too. These are the thoughts of the character and what the chracter thinks. Also political commentary is a hard to delve into, if I get anything wrong, my apologies in advanced.
Calliope blinked away wisps of dark black hair that spilled into her line of vision. Here she was again seated between two idiots shouting political malarkey. She was watching the clock on the wall, waiting for her segment to end so she could bolt from the studio, go back to her high-rise and cuddle up with a glass of wine. People around her insisted she drink haughty wines but she couldn't concede to becoming one of those pretentious wine drinkers. Every time anyone tried to sell her alcohol and started going on about the body and age she ended up grabbing a large jar of Carlos Rossi for ten bucks at Walgreens and going to town.
She hated that fancy way of living, she supposed she never got accustomed to it. She was not rich by any means, but she had enough to vacation once in a while and live comfortably. There was something however that she loathed more than putting on the ritz - her job. Calliope hosted a cable news show, Calling it with Callie, where she discussed international and domestic issues, but she didn't get to choose the stories covered. She didn't even get to have an opinion nor any say. When she spoke, someone else's words came out of her mouth and although she had once upon a time tried to fight it, she had long given up. Settled, for comfortable living.
Calliope shifted in her seat and adjusted the collar of the suit she wore. It was charcoal, pin-striped and fit her body like a glove. Under it, she wore a dark brown silk blouse, unbuttoned just enough to reveal a bit of cleavage but not enough to send the network executives in a frenzy. She had done this before, mostly it was encouraged to help bolster her own ratings which were failing. She'd never let on, but it made her smile every time she'd see them dip lower and lower. She'd lose her job sure, but those smug bastards would lose their diversity quota in one swoop.
She had foregone powdering telling make-up that they had a tendency to make her either look like a ghost or a coke head. She wished this time she had allowed them to freshen her up a bit more, she was roasting under the studios lights and could feel small clusters of sweat forming on her forehead.
She looked over at Ted Barnes the host of the show practically foaming at the mouth. Ted fancied himself a liberal but came under fire recently because of a gambling addiction which he strongly denied. She could see him in a casino though - a real high roller. Girls half his age hanging off his arms, veneers gleaming, that curled up smile he gives when he believes that he is winning, which for him was all the time. His features appeared to be lower than most other peoples, she wasn't sure if it was because of failed plastic surgery or the fact that he was going bald.
His sparring partner was a conservative, blonde, older but not old enough to turn away young males who could be lured into things with a quick smile and the flash of a well tanned and toned leg. To the conservatives, specifically the tea party, Agnes was a trail blazer. She knew two things in this world, that God was real and that liberals hated America. Aggie is what the media had taken to call her. Calliope wasn't surprised by Agnes's rise to fame, she was an any means necessary type of girl. What shocked Calliope was that she managed to get to where her opinion was valued above others after she was caught on tape several times condemning minorities. Callie remembered the day the story broke, she said it was not her intention to offend anyone and that her views had since changed - but she never apologized.
"Agnes you and I we can go round for round on this thing but Ms. Torres I'm very curious to hear where you stand." Ted finished, that crooked smile back out to play. He supposed her statements would be a nail in Aggie's coffin. Too bad she had no fucking clue what they were just talking about.
"You've been rather quiet. That's unusual for you." Agnes chimed in, her voice fading into what Calliope detected as mild sarcasm.
That fucking bitch.
Calliope cleared her throat. "Well Agnes, you know the old saying...keep your mouth closed and be thought a fool, rather than open your mouth and remove all doubt."
Ted chuckled. Agnes squirmed.
She was insulted.
Good.
"Well we've never really heard you come out one way or the other Calliope, I think right now would be a perfect time to let us know what party you identify with." Agnes said, a shit eating grin soon following. "Come on darlin', no more straddling the fence - "
"I hate to put you on the spot Calliope, but I am just a bit curious myself, some of your commentary makes you a real mystery." Ted added. "So are you a Republican or a Democrat?"
Calliope opened her mouth to speak but was immediately cut off by Agnes.
"It's clear based on her realization of the American dream that she would have to be with the party of the people Ted. She is a female, Latina who has graduated from an ivy league school and has her own television show - not to mention she's openly gay - "
"Bi-sexual." Calliope corrected. "And proudly so." Calliope was nearing her boiling point.
"Whatever stamp you'd liked to slap on it sweetheart."
Agnes paused to shoot her a wink and Calliope, as a means to restrain herself, tapped the arm of her chair. It helped to reduce the growing tension in her shoulders. She only had a few moments left, she just had to remain calm.
"Republicans and the Tea Party believe in the great American dream. That dream is the economics of inclusion, enabling everyone to have a chance of their own to invest, build, and prosper. These are the rights that have been granted - "
Calliope chuckled slightly and shook her head. This woman was ridiculous and normally she could contain herself but this time, this time she felt something wash over her and she could not hold it in any longer, she was practically bursting at the seams. It was anger. True, Agnes was about to get the brunt of frustration that had been being welled up inside her for nearly three years but honestly, the bitch kind of deserved it.
"Something funny Ms. Torres?" Agnes asked, her lips pursed shortly after speaking. She was not pleased with the interruption and frankly Callie did not really give a shit.
"You are not granted rights..." Calliope looked away, partly to give her eyes some rest from the blinding studio lights, the other so the camera couldn't capture the flash of annoyance within them. "...you're born with them."
"Fair enough but despite all those things..."
"Despite them? Agnes with all due respect you say it as if I'm handi-capped by them - could it be that maybe I am? Is that why I am such a show of the American Dream? Because I have succeeded despite myself?"
"You're putting words in my mouth - it was not my intention..."
"I have had it with you people and your intentions." Calliope stated firmly, the jaded tone in her voice evident. "Things are bad. Things are really bad." Calliope said her eyes cutting across the studio at the clock. Just a few more minutes damnit. Just a few more rounds of the clock.
"Care to elaborate?" Ted said his full attention on Calliope.
Calliope smiled. Smiled was a little bit of a stretch, the thing on her face resembled a smile. It was the one she had on at parties, events and round tables like this. She had been smiling for the last three years of her fucking life, even when she was hurting. If you looked closely at it, you'd find it but only if you were looking closely. If you weren't, well you might mistake her for a fully functional happy human being. The truth is, she was a borderline alcoholic, with mild depression and a chronic addiction to falling in love with people who destroyed her. So she would continue to grin and bear it but now, now she was just pissed. Pissed at Ted for skimping on quality hair plugs, pissed at Agnes for being so well-intentionedly stupid and she was pissed at herself for not shutting the fuck up and living comfortably.
"You see when the Democrats and Republicans look at me they see a demographic. Fair. I have in this life become increasingly familiar with being just another notch on a gallop poll. It's fine."
She could stop now. If she stopped now, she could admit to herself that what she was about to do wasn't premeditated. That she wasn't intentionally sabotaging herself. That this and the words that followed, were acts of passion and she could sleep tonight regret free.
"The issue is that both parties don't see anyone beyond that. To both the left and the right, I am those specific three things. Latina. Bi. Female. And because I am all of those things you assume things about me and cater to certain ideals that your experts have whipped up as if we are not individuals. Which is simply not true, there is more to me than that and I think that a lot of people would be quite surprised to find that the American people are not as comfortable with being lumped up into small groups and skinned down in order to have a stance on an issue or identify with a certain party."
Too late, far too late. Might as well make it count.
"The more and more we perpetuate this need to divide, the more and more our politics and our people will polarize and that polarization is the reason why we cannot get anything done here in America. Nothing is being accomplished other than running this same debate on loops on each and every one of our channels. Both parties are guilty of this. Both parties need to wake up and realize that they are causing the problem and offering the solution. You can't do that - you simply cannot. That's like poisoning someone and selling them the remedy."
Calliope sat back in her seat and sighed. To those watching, it may have seemed as if it stemmed from regret but to her it felt so much like relief.
"Continuing down this path is problematic..." Calliope paused and looked over at Agnes whose mouth had gone slack.
"...both parties are nothing more than sports teams now. This has nothing to do with ideology. Politics isn't about ideology. It's about joining a team, picking a side and routing them on. The entire time we pick each other a part, calling missteps on one another so we can say yes our side is right, yes our side is winning, instead of trying to evaluate new political information in an unbiased way."
Calliope had forgotten about the clock, and so had the producer. Just when she thought the segment was going to be abruptly finished, they continued rolling. Ted gripped his ear piece, his eyes trained on the sheets of paper in front of him but never once interrupting her.
"Both sides have corporate backing, spilling untold amounts of money into Super Pacs. Money shoved in their pockets and by the time they even win the candidacy they have been bought and sold two times over and are unrecognizable when the very people who worked to get them elected call them to action on the platforms they have run on. They are so busy scratching the backs of corporations and wealthy billionaires who seek to inject their own beliefs into the political sphere, that people are swept under the rug and forgotten."
Calliope drummed her knuckles along the table looking to either to interject. Maybe it was shock that kept them silent, maybe they weren't expecting her to speak so bluntly. Maybe they didn't understand because she wasn't smiling anymore.
"So now you have the corporations on one end and then on the other you have political pandering. You have real life government officials, congressman, senators wiping away their own beliefs for the beliefs of those who can get them re-elected. Their moral compass is a pendulum, swinging back and forth and can change..." Calliope snapped her finger to signal the brevity. "...daily."
Calliope rubbed the bridge of her nose briefly. "You have one group that can single handedly jump in and hijack a party and not only succeed - they can get away with it. Instead of holding true our leaders bend, and now, now they are obliged to them. They are bound to condemn people, bound to set legislation based on religious beliefs, bound to discriminate and bound to dated and archaic ideals."
Calliope never yelled, her tone was cool despite the blood boiling in her skin. "And all the while the real issues are being ignored." Callie held up a finger for each issue, trying to drive her point home as the others in the studio and the viewers at home watched. "Income tax revision, minimum wage, public pensions, immigration. No resolution matters as long as my guy is saying the things I want to hear. But words don't resolve the issue - something has to be done, not when we find a resolution, now. We need bipartisanship to make a return in the United States."
Calliope sighed again, her shoulders slacked just a bit. "We are still having debates on whether climate change is real. How is this even a question anymore? They are bargaining with one another about minimum wage reform and some 46.7 million Americans are below the poverty line. Not to mention the growing wealth gap which is crippling the economy. The investment returns are exceeding economic growth, the rich get richer, inequality increases. This is financialization. These things need to be acted on not talked about."
Calliope kept looking for someone to chime in, when she looked at the scrolling monitors around the studio she saw why they had kept shooting. The news had made the news - go figure.
"What side am I on? What side is there to choose from that makes sens. On one end, I have the GOP, with all due respect, a party littered with insurgents who are hellbent on opposing everything because if your views differ from theirs you are un-American. So they obstruct, obstruct, obstruct. They break laws yet the people that oppose them are un-American? Why, because we don't have a copy of the constitution printed onto cheap screened t-shirts? Ridiculous."
The last line she spoke made Agnes clear her throat.
"What has happened to the GOP? The party with a heart and a head?"Calliope wondered out loud.
"We are proud of and shall continue our far-reaching and sound advances in matters of basic human needs. This includes expansion of social security, broadened coverage in unemployment insurance, improved housing - and better health protection for all our people. We are determined that our government remain warmly responsive to the urgent social and economic problems of our people."
Brown eyes flicked to Agnes. "That's the Republican party platform of 1956 - that's your boy. Today, they want to privatize and means test Social Security, cut unemployment, and cut Medicaid as well as privatize Medicare. President Eisenhower would be considered un-American? Eisenhower a socialist? It is absolutely stunning to me how anyone cannot see how far to the right the GOP has shifted. So much that neo-nazi rhetoric is creeping into the base."
Agnes shook her head rapidly. "That is simply untrue!"
Calliope continued despite the interruption. "Hatred has its teeth in that party and it is sinking deeper and deeper. The Tea party hates everything, it hates welfare, food stamps - especially minorities who partake in social aide. They are obsessed and severely misinformed about Muslims and Islam. They are terrified and alarmed by brown and other because they think we are a threat to "white nationalism". Let me be perfectly clear this is not about freedom - this is about a group of misguided people who get their information from radio disk jockeys who are extremely jaded and prejudiced."
Ted adjusted his tie, trying to keep his composure despite the current tension Calliope's words created.
"These same 'voices' use the trust of the American people to scare them into believing that the gays and the brown's and the beige's are coming to take everything they own when this is simply not the case. Those fear mongerers thrive profit wise and we have to deal with the brunt of it mucking up our system and slowing down progress. These are the people who are un-American. The people who would rather see it burn than to see someone else try to take a slice of the American pie."
Her eyes landed back on the monitor. She was a trending topic. She'd be flattered if she knew what the hell that actually meant.
"And it's not just the right who has issues. The Democratic party is always leading from behind. Late to the party on LGBTQIA issues and marriage equality. None of them are truly embracing health care reform even though it has shown to be of great potential. Running scared on gun reform. I wish - I dream of the day a radical group from the left swoops in and tells Democrats we will primary you - we will find a replacement for you who is not afraid to say that drones have damaging and counterproductive repercussions."
Calliope kept her composure, Ted after her latest remarks turned an impressive shade of red. She avoided his eyes and chose to look directly into the camera.
"Too afraid to say that US drone strike policies cause considerable and under-accounted-for harm to the daily lives of ordinary civilians, beyond death and physical injury. That decriminalization of marijuana is necessary. The disproportionate number of Black and Latino youth arrested for possessing small quantities of marijuana is evidence of a shameful double standard in this justice system and should be wholly examined and openly discussed. The US of A..."
She paused once and looked down momentarily. When she looked up her eyes were a bit glassy, she was hoping they gave off the idea that it hurt her to see her country this way, which it did, but she did have more than a few drinks before showing up to participate. Maybe it finally kicking in.
"...we used to be a thoughtful, intelligent, cautious nation. Over the last ten years, we've become an impetuous, reactionary, anti-intellectual one. American exceptionalism is simply hubris. We are being out produced, and we are so politically polarized that we are now voting against our own interests. We are trying to solve the issues of nations abroad instead of focusing on ourselves and the issues we must address internally before looking outward. We are capable of so much but so much time is wasted while our beloved country and her people with all this vast untapped potential go to ruin. We can be exceptional again, but it is going to take years and years of getting our heads surgically removed from our asses."
Calliope shifted towards Ted, who was completely speechless. She was expecting some type of follow up question, none ever came.
"So, when you ask me where I stand politically, the answer Ted..." Out of respect, Calliope nodded slightly to Agnes. "...Agnes. The answer is neither. Because neither really gets things done anymore."
After she finished the room was hushed, save for the shuffling of feet and a telephone ringing furiously far away in the studio. Calliope looked up at the clock again. Time. Time had been up. For this program. For her. For easy living. For smiling. She had thrust herself back into the ring, there was some rust but damn...she felt good.
"And umm - yeah. Uh Agnes it was great to see you again. You as well Calliope." His smile, that winning one, it didn't make an appearance. "Looks like we are out of time, but I'll finish up some additional thoughts on my blog. Now it's time for Freedom of Speech with Kelly Matthews."
All three sat frozen until the producer gave them the signal they were off air. Ted stood, his face an even deeper shade of red. He angrily eyed Calliope. "I hope it was worth it." He never spoke to her or Agnes again, he simply stormed off set.
Agnes shook her head. "You Ms. Torres are un-American!" She huffed, tossed her stringy blonde hair over her shoulder then sped off, a group of assistants following closely behind.
Slowly others began to leave but Calliope sat still and motionless. She was startled when an over weight cameraman began to slow clap, looking for the few stragglers that stayed behind to join in.
No one did.
When his attempt failed the cameraman slowly began to walk backwards, his palms out and facing upwards, until he was out of sight. Calliope buried her face in her palms.
The lights on that side of the set began to shut off systematically leaving only the portion where she sat lit. She checked the phone she had in her pocket.
35 missed calls.
She slowly stood then walked briskly to the exit and reached the exit door. She twisted the knob to exit.
Then she smiled.