America: From a Fallen Child Star to the Head of the University of the West

Robert Harrison was frustrated. He had torn off nearly twenty pages of the new calendar this year. He thought that each tear meant he was getting closer to being freed from his position, but instead, he had more and more troubles.

As a member of the Democratic Party, he was a complete centrist. Over two terms, he merely managed to position himself as a centrist rather than a double agent or a fence-sitter, demonstrating his ability to navigate both sides effectively.

But ever since that bastard Sean Penn confessed at the hearing that he had pulled strings for this guy, all sorts of rumors about him have been swirling around. To the point that he can't even go back to the Harrisburg headquarters anymore.

Richard Brennan and Catherine Donovan repeatedly questioned him within the party, always saying that they were doing great things and were careful not to risk their lives, but in reality, he simply didn't intend to play with fire with these ambitious people.

But now, the situation is becoming increasingly complicated.

Ever since Sean announced that he would reveal the most prominent names on his list, the entire nation has once again focused its attention on him. It's said that his characters have appeared in both "Family Guy" and "South Park," demonstrating his influence.

Besides Harris Crane, whom Catherine had been longing for, the names announced also included…

Derek Morrison, a real estate developer in New Jersey, is said to have laundered a lot of money through the Avalon Fund;

Patricia Welch, an entertainment agent in Los Angeles, helped the foundation connect with several Hollywood stars;

There's also James Watkins, a locally well-known philanthropist in Pennsylvania, who is said to be an early investor in the Avalon Fund.

Although these people are not high-ranking or powerful figures, each of them has intricate connections with certain political forces.

Sean Penn's move was like throwing a depth charge into a pond, exploding not just a few fish, but the sludge and murky water of the entire ecosystem.

After all, someone once said: when there is one cockroach in a house, it means there are already hundreds or thousands of cockroaches in the house!

Now, these cockroaches are all hiring lawyers to defend themselves. Others are doing what Sean did, claiming they are also victims.

Harrison, thinking about this, began to wonder what that bastard was doing right now.

As far as he knew, Sean had been hiding in his campaign office, protected by his security team, ever since the hearing. Some said he was afraid of being assassinated, while others said he was preparing a major revelation.

Harrison was having a headache no matter which one it was.

……

Meanwhile, in that old warehouse in North Philadelphia.

Sean was sitting behind that secondhand desk, holding a cup of coffee that had gone cold.

Vincent Carter sat opposite him, flipping through a stack of legal documents. Matthew, meanwhile, squatted in the corner, typing away on his laptop.

"So you mean we should focus on the 'anti-establishment' card?"

"It's not just about being anti-establishment. 'Anti-establishment' is too general; every politician shouts that slogan. We need something more specific."

"for example?"

"for example--"

Before Sean could finish speaking, the office door was pushed open.

A young woman with long chestnut hair walked in, carrying several pizza boxes. She was wearing a sweatshirt with the University of Pennsylvania logo and looked like she had just come from the university.

"You men, all you do is talk big and don't even eat anything." She put the pizza box on the table.

That was Sarah Rossi, Matthew's girlfriend, an Italian-American. Her family ran a small-to-medium-sized import trading company in Philadelphia; they were quite well-off.

She remarked with some emotion that it's often said men automatically develop an interest in political discussion as they reach a certain age. It seems this is indeed true.

"Thank you, Sarah." Matthew looked up from his computer and gave her a grateful smile.

Since Matthew joined Sean's team, Sarah, who was previously giving him the cold shoulder, was forcibly brought in to temporarily serve as the accountant. In Matthew's words, they were so poor that they couldn't even afford a professional accountant, and could only rely on her, who studied finance at Wharton Business School, to make do.

Vincent opened the pizza box, glanced at the toppings, and exclaimed, "Why is there pineapple on this?"

"That was for Mr. Pan," Sarah rolled her eyes. "He said he likes Hawaiian pizza."

"Pineapple pizza is a desecration of Italian cuisine," Vincent said earnestly.

"Come on, Mr. Carter." Sean picked up a slice of pizza and took a big bite. "What right do you, an American, have to speak up for Italians?"

My undergraduate roommate was Italian.

"That won't work either."

Sarah listened to their banter and couldn't help but laugh. She pulled up a chair, sat down, and took out her phone to check her emails.

"By the way, Mr. Pan, Netflix sent another email," she said without looking up. "They said the documentary can be discussed further, and the terms are negotiable."

"Let them wait. Now is not the time to talk about this."

"Also, your private YouTube channel has reached 20,000 subscribers," Sarah added. "If this keeps up, your account will be banned."

"Twenty thousand?" Matthew exclaimed in surprise. "Wasn't it only a few thousand a few days ago?"

"The effect of the hearing," Sean smiled. "People like to see drama."

They were referring to his personal account, separate from the "Avalon Survivors" account. He planned to use the former to write about the foundation, and the latter to promote his political ideas.

After finishing their pizza, the three men returned to their previous conversation.

"Where were we?" Vincent asked.

"Campaign platform," Matthew replied. "We're discussing what cards we should play. This is a crucial question; without it, we're just a makeshift team."

"Yes." Sean leaned back in his chair. "Before we discuss that, I want to ask you a question: Why did you choose to join my gang?"

Matthew and Vincent exchanged a glance.

"Let me go first," Matthew said. "To be honest, at first I just thought you were contradictory and interesting. A washed-up Hollywood child star, abandoned by the whole world, yet you still dare to stand up and run for president."

"and then?"

"And then..." Matthew thought for a moment, "I think you represent a possibility. A possibility to break the existing order. Politics in this country has been monopolized by two parties for too long, and ordinary people have no choice at all. Your emergence, at least, gives people a different option, and I support the third-party movement."

"So it's anti-elitist?"

"You could say that," Matthew nodded. "America has a long tradition of anti-elitism. From the democratization movement during the Jackson era, to the populist wave of the late 19th century, to the Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street today. This backlash happens whenever ordinary people feel abandoned by the elite."

"And you, Mr. Carter?" Sean turned to Vincent.

Vincent remained silent for a moment.

"I don't like you, Mr. Pan. You should know that," he finally said. "But I like even less those who pull the strings behind the scenes. You're a bastard, but at least you're a bastard who's in the spotlight. The real bastards never put themselves in the spotlight."

"So you're anti-elitist too?"

"If you insist on defining it that way," Vincent shrugged, "what I object to are those who use the rules to exploit ordinary people, whether they are politicians, businessmen, or lawyers."

After listening to their answers, Sean nodded thoughtfully.

"Anti-elitism," he repeated the word. "That's certainly a starting point. But it's not enough."

“Anti-elitism is too abstract.” Sean stood up. “Everyone has a different definition of ‘elite.’ For an unemployed steelworker, an elite might be a Wall Street banker; for a college student burdened by student loans, an elite might be an admissions officer at an Ivy League school; for a Black person subjected to police brutality, an elite might be the entire justice system.”

"If we just shout 'anti-elitism,' we'll end up in a state of disarray. Everyone is opposing their own idea of ​​elites, but nobody knows what we're actually building."

"So what do you think we should do?" Vincent asked.

Sean turned around, looked at the two of them, and bent the tips of his index and middle fingers into quotation marks.

"Matthew, your fraternity's old friend Clinton had a famous campaign slogan: 'Dude, the problem is the economy.' That worked because it simplified all the complex political issues into one core issue, which was also the right one."

"However, in my view, this economy is not the Wall Street-style economy, nor is it an economy based on GDP growth rates. Rather, it's the economy in the pockets of ordinary people—their jobs, their wages, their pensions, and their lives."

"Anti-elitism is just a means; the economy is the end. We want to tell people that those elites are not only morally problematic, but more importantly, they economically plunder you. They outsource your jobs overseas, they use financial instruments to drain your savings, and they use political donations to buy off politicians to formulate policies that benefit them."

"That's why I released that list. It wasn't just for revenge, but to show people where their money actually went."

Vincent nodded thoughtfully. "So you're going to combine anti-elitism with economic issues?"

“It’s not just about combining.” A glint of light flashed in Sean’s eyes. “I’ve been thinking about this for the past few days. Our campaign platform can’t just be a simple slogan or label. It needs to be a complete system, a system that can answer the questions: ‘Where do we come from? Who are we? Where are we going?’”

He paused for a moment, then looked at Matthew and Vincent.

"Want to hear it?"