- Jul 12, 2018
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CASTINE, MAINE
Dyce Head Lighthouse
December 31, 2003
5:04 PM EST
Private
Private Residence of The Vice President
Dyce Head Lighthouse
December 31, 2003
5:04 PM EST
Private
Private Residence of The Vice President
Dyce Head Lighthouse and the surrounding property were covered in a fresh, white blanket of New England snow. It was quiet that late afternoon. The outside of the lighthouse, especially today, looked like something off of a postcard. Light beamed out from the tower as it repeatedly turned 360 degrees to only flash out again. The day would be over very soon and the lighthouse would continue to serve as an important aid to navigation for the region, especially for local fishermen. Standing around and throughout the property were Secret Service agents dressed in several layers of formal clothing. Some were huddled together and talking, but most were solitary sentinels who were vigilantly watching for a possible threat that would never arrive that day. Other agents, who were much more difficult to see because they were wearing all-white camouflage, were perched in different places around the property - there were even two snipers standing on the outside railing of the lighthouse, right outside of the glass housing where the light was shining from.
The keeper's quarters were quaint and cosey. There was a living room with multiple comfortable pieces of furniture including some large leather chairs and a large sofa that even a tall man could comfortably lay down on. The fireplace was stocked with logs and there was a strong fire burning. The wood cracked and snapped occasionally as the flames helped keep the home warm. President Gore was standing inside of a small kitchen with numerous appliances. While the kitchen wasn't spacious, it was very efficient with the use of its space. The old appliances were dated, but they were well-built and had stood the test of time as well as a hundred years of use. They would most certainly outlive the current occupant and most likely his successor. The President was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and his old Yale sweater that he had owned for decades. Al carefully picked up two coffee mugs, one which had the seal of the United States Light House Service on it, and the other which had the official seal of the Vice President on it. The lighthouse mug was filled with coffee, with a dash of milk stirred in, while the VP mug was full of hot chocolate.
The President walked with the two mugs from the kitchen, through the living room, and into a study just off of the living room. The study was the size of a bedroom and had inside of it a dark colored executive-style desk, several bookcases on the walls on either side of the desk, a large ornate rug in the room before the desk, and several paintings adorning the wall. Behind the desk was a large, old painting of William Sinclair. Sitting behind the desk, in a leather chair, was Vice President Benjamin Valentine Sinclair. He was wearing a pair of reading glasses as well as some grey slacks and a dark sweater of his own which was from his days at the U.S. Air Force Academy. As President Gore walked into the study, he could hear chatter coming from a nearby radio, which was situated on a coffee table a foot or so to Sinclair's right. The radio scanned the Coast Guard's local channels as well as the maritime distress channel. From what Gore could hear, it sounded like a blizzard was moving in.
The President set down the Vice President's mug on his Sinclair's desk. Gore sat down in a leather chair in front of, and off to the left, of the desk, which was across from Sinclair. The President had only been at Sinclair's home for about half an hour. He had just changed and made both of the men their favored non-alcoholic beverages since they would be partaking in those later. Sinclair was busy putting the final touches on a thick, tan-colored piece of oversized resume paper. President Gore remained silent as Sinclair made one more, slow and deliberate, stroke on the page with his pen. The Vice President sipped his hot chocolate and leaned back in his chair, just a bit.
"Is it ready?" Gore asked, and then sipped his coffee again.
The Vice President nodded, and carefully slid over the piece of paper to the President. "Be careful, the ink is still wet," he said as Gore delicately picked up the paper and tried to read the beautiful calligraphy that the Vice President had penned.
"The twenty-eighth amendment to the Constitution of the United States..." Gore said, as he read aloud. Sinclair mouthed the words, which he had committed to memory, along with Gore as the President read it.
Section 1. The rights protected by the Constitution of the United States are the rights of natural persons only. Artificial entities, such as corporations, limited liability companies, and other entities, established by the laws of any local government, Territory, State, the United States, or any foreign state shall have no rights under this Constitution and are subject to regulation by the People, through Federal, State, Territorial, or local law. The privileges of artificial entities shall be determined by the People, through Federal, State, Territorial, or local law, and shall not be construed to be inherent or inalienable.The keeper's quarters were quaint and cosey. There was a living room with multiple comfortable pieces of furniture including some large leather chairs and a large sofa that even a tall man could comfortably lay down on. The fireplace was stocked with logs and there was a strong fire burning. The wood cracked and snapped occasionally as the flames helped keep the home warm. President Gore was standing inside of a small kitchen with numerous appliances. While the kitchen wasn't spacious, it was very efficient with the use of its space. The old appliances were dated, but they were well-built and had stood the test of time as well as a hundred years of use. They would most certainly outlive the current occupant and most likely his successor. The President was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and his old Yale sweater that he had owned for decades. Al carefully picked up two coffee mugs, one which had the seal of the United States Light House Service on it, and the other which had the official seal of the Vice President on it. The lighthouse mug was filled with coffee, with a dash of milk stirred in, while the VP mug was full of hot chocolate.
The President walked with the two mugs from the kitchen, through the living room, and into a study just off of the living room. The study was the size of a bedroom and had inside of it a dark colored executive-style desk, several bookcases on the walls on either side of the desk, a large ornate rug in the room before the desk, and several paintings adorning the wall. Behind the desk was a large, old painting of William Sinclair. Sitting behind the desk, in a leather chair, was Vice President Benjamin Valentine Sinclair. He was wearing a pair of reading glasses as well as some grey slacks and a dark sweater of his own which was from his days at the U.S. Air Force Academy. As President Gore walked into the study, he could hear chatter coming from a nearby radio, which was situated on a coffee table a foot or so to Sinclair's right. The radio scanned the Coast Guard's local channels as well as the maritime distress channel. From what Gore could hear, it sounded like a blizzard was moving in.
The President set down the Vice President's mug on his Sinclair's desk. Gore sat down in a leather chair in front of, and off to the left, of the desk, which was across from Sinclair. The President had only been at Sinclair's home for about half an hour. He had just changed and made both of the men their favored non-alcoholic beverages since they would be partaking in those later. Sinclair was busy putting the final touches on a thick, tan-colored piece of oversized resume paper. President Gore remained silent as Sinclair made one more, slow and deliberate, stroke on the page with his pen. The Vice President sipped his hot chocolate and leaned back in his chair, just a bit.
"Is it ready?" Gore asked, and then sipped his coffee again.
The Vice President nodded, and carefully slid over the piece of paper to the President. "Be careful, the ink is still wet," he said as Gore delicately picked up the paper and tried to read the beautiful calligraphy that the Vice President had penned.
"The twenty-eighth amendment to the Constitution of the United States..." Gore said, as he read aloud. Sinclair mouthed the words, which he had committed to memory, along with Gore as the President read it.
Section 2. Federal, State, Territorial, and local government shall regulate, limit, or prohibit contributions and expenditures, including a candidate’s own contributions and expenditures, to ensure that all citizens, regardless of their economic status, have access to the political process, and that no person gains, as a result of that person’s money, substantially more access or ability to influence in any way the election of any candidate for public office or any ballot measure. Federal, State, and local governments shall require that any permissible contributions and expenditures be publicly disclosed.
Section 3. The United States Congress shall regulate, limit, or prohibit contributions and expenditures for political campaigns for the Presidency and Vice Presidency of the United States, and all public offices in the District of Columbia. The authority to regulate, limit, or prohibit contributions and expenditures of all other political campaigns for public office shall be left to the States and Territories. The judiciary shall not construe the spending of money to influence elections to be speech under the First Amendment.
Section 4. Federal, State, Territorial, and local governments may only permit American citizens, who are of legal voting age in the State, Territory, or Federal District which they are a citizen of, to financially or materially contribute to a political campaign for any public office.
Section 5. Nothing contained in this amendment shall be construed to abridge the freedom of the press or the freedom of religion.
Gore set the paper back down on Sinclair's desk and pushed it back to him. "Hand-writing it was a very nice touch. Do you think the National Archives will display it if it passes?" he asked.
"I know a guy that works there," Sinclair said as he made a brief smile and then sipped his hot chocolate again.
"This will entirely upend the system of elections in our country.... They'll shoot us for this," Gore said.
"I've been shot about a dozen times and I'm an old man, I don't really care what they do to me," Sinclair responded. "You survived your first, so that gives you good odds," Sinclair joked - at least, Gore assumed that he was joking. "This would restore our elections to what the Founding Fathers intended them to be. This would give our republic back to the people, and out of the hands of corporations, Super PACs, and the military industrial complex."
"How will this possibly get through Congress?" Gore asked.
"I can get it through the Senate. The House would be the monster that we would have to conquer. Once it got to the states... well, I think things would sail smoother from that point forward," the Vice President said.
Gore checked his watch and then sipped his coffee again.
"Getting hungry?" Sinclair asked.
"Very," Gore said. He skipped lunch and breakfast today.
"Olympia will be back from the store with the lobsters soon. It's going to be a feast."
