Writing a few hundred pages of fiction is easy compared to writing a disclaimer. I have been duly nagged by well meaning friends (who shall remain anonymous) to “cover my ass” as they so succinctly put it, in case you dear reader have arson, conspiracy, larceny, or some oblique form of patriotism in your black little heart.
The story as written is populated with the actual names of currently public figures. But they are used in a hopeful manner and not meant to be disrespectful or to attribute any good or bad characteristics to them in reality. They’re public figures and they can take it, even if they take it wrong. They just add a bit of realism to the tale despite any wishful thinking on my part.
It’s a story of their imagined response to a hypothetical alternate history in which thousands of regular Americans make a focused counter attack on the mortgage and banking industry and Wall Street corruption in general.
The reality is millions of people have lost their homes to foreclosure. If you’re one of them, or know someone, you or they may have felt as if you just wanted to burn the damn thing down. I’m not suggesting anyone become an arsonist. This is story about thousands of fictional Americans who do just that and the ramifications thereof. It’s about what happens to a housing market when a bunch of inventory goes up in smoke. It’s about powerful bankers whose immunity and impunity is ripped from their grasp. And it’s about powerful insurance companies and crooked politicians who learn what happens when the consciousness of an angry sleeping giant is aroused and focused on them. It’s about the good guys winning. But it’s just a story. Any giants are still sleeping and we can reliably assume they will stay that way.