[Chapter 932: The Disgraced Clinton]
The typical impression outsiders had of the Oval Office staff was that they were rigid and serious. But who would have guessed these folks were actually masters of deception?
Even with electronic organizers, the so-called White House staff liked to carry notebooks. They jotted notes in meetings and during business talks. Interestingly, unlike the rest of the world that used ballpoint or fountain pens, these guys preferred mechanical pencils. Perhaps only astronauts found ballpoint pens inconvenient--they seemed to stick to these pencils religiously.
On the surface, it seemed like a personal preference. After all, if a mistake was made, you could just erase it, right?
Well, remember, they also revised their records when they tried to cover their tracks. You'd look back and think, "Wait a minute, how come your meeting notes don't match mine?"
(Speaker's personal experience, no room for argument.)
The point is, they appeared conservative and disciplined but were anything but.
To protect depositors' funds, commercial banks usually had restrictions--your equity had to meet certain levels; loan-to-value ratios couldn't exceed a specific percentage. Going into more detail, mortgages and collateralized land couldn't surpass certain limits.
After the bursting of the financial bubble, many banks failed to meet these standards. But if their real data leaked out, companies might go under.
A little "adjustment" solved all this--as long as the Treasury Department boss was kept happy, none of these issues mattered.
Unbelievable, right?
Some technical fudging was very common in the financial sector. When they filed for bankruptcy protection, federal officials were often caught off guard. "Hey, wait, what happened? How did you just go under like that?"
"Damn, Allen, isn't this a bit much? Why's the President being hauled to court? Is he the defendant? You city folks sure know how to play games."
Greenspan glanced at the amused old rogue and didn't know where to start. What looked like a minor issue had escalated into this mess--were they seriously gunning for Clinton's political career?
"Well, Warren, it's just a routine inquiry. Besides, he's sitting in the witness box."
Watching the disingenuous guy, Buffett silently thought, "Are you kidding me? Once you're in court, there's no 'plaintiff' or 'defendant' anymore. And since it's a special prosecutor, everyone down there is a suspect."
Of course, those thoughts were too crude to voice. Even Greenspan was telling white lies with wide eyes; all they could do was play dumb.
"The Democrats don't even intend to save face anymore. As an American, I honestly don't know what to say.
Could this become a symbol of our country's downfall again?"
"This won't bring him down; at most, it's just a nuisance. Though, I admit, it's gotten a bit out of hand."
Greenspan shrugged helplessly. The guy got into power against all odds and was reckless at that.
And it wasn't just the Democrats causing trouble. Some of Clinton's own supporters weren't thrilled with him either.
"By the way, I heard you invested in Cisco. Does that mean you've changed your mind?"
"Changed my mind? Do I even have one? Cisco's nothing special. I toured their plant and labs, and William White was right: any stock below $50 billion is a buy and hold for life.
Don't worry, unless a systemic risk shows up or a strong competitor emerges, or the Justice Department investigates.
Ha! I'm not too concerned about the Justice Department--that's William White's problem to worry about."
Greenspan realized he couldn't argue. Systemic risks meant everyone lost together, completely unpredictable. As for competitors, they mostly got swallowed up.
"Lisa, anything urgent? If not, I'm off for a swim. I haven't exercised enough lately and am getting a bit heavy."
"Sir, they say some special workouts burn more calories."
"Uh-oh, hungry again?"
The assistant rolled her eyes. "I'm practically starving. Those electrical gadgets just aren't reliable."
"Alright, I'll check the work after swimming."
"Okay, boss, we're eagerly awaiting your review. By the way, the President has been inside the courtroom for four hours. Obviously, Prosecutor Robert Ray isn't messing around."
"Four hours? Damn. Can't Clinton just take a bathroom break or have the Prime Minister give him a call?
Sigh, this guy really can claim he's handling a national emergency."
"Maybe he just wants to get this torture over with sooner?"
"Haha, maybe. I'm heading to swim now."
William White couldn't bear to tell this silly girl the truth. If only the case dragged on for eight years, that'd be best. Every time Clinton tried to show off, they'd immediately drag him back and give him hell.
Even the assistants could see Clinton's opponents' plan. They thought they were clever, but the more cooperative Clinton appeared, the worse it got for him. Once he left office, they could all be friends again.
Or maybe just rough up that goofball big guy once more. "Man, my warehouse missiles are gathering dust."
They couldn't beat the 'Big Bunny,' and the White House just folded. How could this President not fight during his term?
Somalia?
Don't even mention that cursed place. The most valuable target only earned half a missile.
A bunch of defense contractors were furious but helpless. If they had known this, they wouldn't have bothered. They saw the economy was decent, Clinton hadn't made severe errors, and conventional ways to get rid of him just wouldn't work.
Two terms in a row with half-baked presidents was just too much. But even if they couldn't change anything, they had to make his life miserable.
Back in the Oval Office, Clinton was still fuming.
"Al, they just want to embarrass me. I answered every question for five hours straight, and they kept going in circles."
Al Gore was angry too. Even if he didn't care about Clinton personally, he had to think of his own future. Clearly, this was just a political farce.
"Bill, we have no choice. As long as you come out winning this time, their motivation disappears."
"Alright, let's review the campaign strategy. This time, I'm winning big."
"Don't worry, your approval ratings have been strong, and Silicon Valley is booming. No one can ignore the power of the internet anymore."
Gore surely didn't expect that Watergate was over, but someone else's zipper had broken again. The current intern wasn't far away, lost in daydreams.
Of course, it was still just flirtations. Clinton was too busy with his re-election campaign to pursue that chubby young woman he liked.
"Hello, Dr. White, I'm feeling unwell."
"Hmm, sit on my lap."
"Wow, you do have a slight fever. Looks like you need a shot."
"Two shots? Sorry, we don't have that equipment here. You know, field hospitals are pretty basic."
William White wasn't too concerned about Clinton. For this election, the White Capital continued to hedge their bets. Facing such an unconventional guy, both sides could only sigh. And no one dared offend him--if anything happened to this guy's backside, someone would truly be in trouble.
*****
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