Glass half-Full is the title of my first novel, published in 2007. The story takes place in the Washington DC area.
In chapter 21, we find that two DC detectives have arrested a suspected rapist, Barney Bluntell. At police headquarters, they are questioning the suspect when they suddenly receive a lot more confession than they had thought possible.
In this scene, Barney the suspect is getting worked up as he answers a few more questions than detectives Trent and Nguyen have asked him:
“You’re damned right.” Barney was on the soap box now, showing his true colors, almost unaware of his prisoner status, lecturing the cops on what would have to be done to get society straightened out.
“And how did you know who these women are…the ones that need to be put in their place?”
“It’s the Jewish women. They started the whole thing. Now its infecting everybody. The men don’t know how to handle their women. They’ve fucked everything up. The Jews started communism. Marx and Lenin were Jews. You know that, don’t you?”
Now Nguyen thought he’d take a chance. “Is that why you bombed the Holocaust Memorial?”
Barney looked at Nguyen, surprised at the question. “That whole damned holocaust never happened. You know that don’t you? They made the whole thing up so they could get sympathy from everybody else…just like the niggers.”
“Oh yeah? What did they do?”
“They didn’t do a damn thing, except pick cotton. The Jews raised a bunch of hell until they got Lincoln and the rest of that nigger-lovin’ crowd worked up enough to fuck the whole country. It’s been a mess ever since then.”
Nguyen’s voice became calm, professorial. “The last time I checked a history book, Barney, it said that it was a bunch of Christian abolitionists who got that movement going.”
But the detective realized he was getting off track. He paused and thought for a moment. “What do you think it’s gonna take to get this country straightened out?”
“It’ll take a major rearrangement of power,” said Barney, now overconfident in his own psychopathic harangue. Having lost sight of the criminal implications of his actions, Barney was misinterpreting Nguyen’s interest in his activities. Barney was not an habitual criminal, but an idealogue who had gotten sucked into a criminal fringe of fascism. “These days, people don’t know what real power is.”
“What is it?” Nguyen inquired, now spreading the net of inquiry over Barney’s self-laid trap of fanatical egocentrism.
“Power is whatever is taken by those who are unafraid to be strong.” Barney smiled, lost now in his own self-incriminating screed, as if he were talking to himself. “Power is what you are going to see very soon, when the obstructions to it are taken out of the way.”
“What obstructions?”
“The weak and inferior elements. They’re dragging the whole evolution of the human race down. It’s just a matter of time before power will be put back where it belongs. The Jews were the ones who fucked it up to begin with, with their worship of weakness…then the niggers, spicks. Some people were born to be slaves. What we need is a caste system. The Hindus had a few things right, but they missed it on the animals thing, and the untouchables. It’s better to just extinguish them altogether.”
Nguyen looked over at Trent, amazed at the unbridled fanaticism that had just passed from the prisoner’s lips. They were at a loss for words for a minute or more. Derrick Trent stood, stretched, began pacing around at one end of the room. Then he asked, “So that’s why you moved on the Holocaust Museum?”
“That was only a wake-up call. The next time, it’ll be much more effective.”
“Says who?” Trent shot back.
“Says me…and about 100 other people,” declared Barney, not even thinking now of the legal implications of his diatribe.
“How do you know? Were you there?”
“The fuhrer was there.”
Trent stopped his pacing, incredulous.
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