Artorius Castus

Hillary, Wellesley, and the KGB

Posted in Uncategorized by Patrick Truax on September 8, 2007

Hillary, Wellesley, and the KGB

The snow was still falling when Gennady Petrovich got up to stoke the fire. It had been a long winter and the the fools in the weather bureau were still claiming another 4 solid weeks of winter. How many more winters can these old bones endure, he mused. Probably not many, he was in his 89th year of living, and 19 years of retirement. Gennady had lived a full life, almost half of which was spent in the Commitee For State Security, known in the West as the KGB. The West? Yes, I still think that way, he thought. And it wasnt surprising-Colonel Petrovich was one of the true Cold Warriors.

Born the year the Soviet Union was conceived, he had always been a dedicated Communist, joining the Party at 18, in 1936. As young Party member, he was sent to Spain, ostensibly as a Comintern “advisor”, but his real job was to recruit spies.

First with OGPU and the NKVD, young Gennady delighted superiors with his solid recruitments. Petrovich was assigned to the Lincoln Brigade, an American band of mercernaries who sided with the Communists in their war against the Fascist Franco. While most of the Brigade were branded pariahs on their return to United States, some were not. Gennady had been part of the team that was able build several legends and forge passports to change the identities of a few of the more “reliable” Brigade members. Two of these legends enabled former Lincoln Brigade fighters into mid level positions in the Roosevelt Administration. One in the FBI and other in the State Department, where they provided the Kremiln with very useful counter-intelligence methods from the FBI agent, and very valuable political intelligence, and gossip from an assisant to an undersecretary. These two retired from US Government service with full pensions, never any suspicion, and an additional stipend from Moscow Center. Contrary to popular belief, the KGB took care of their spies.

Gennady yawned, and considered another glass of vodka “for the old days”. Another glance at the falling snow guided him the direction of the kitchen. He poured a generous amount of the Starka that Vassily, his driver(he still rated a driver) had dropped off for him earlier that afternoon. He padded back to the study and his chair in front of the fire. He sat down cautiously, mindful of the back injury he incurred in 1942 in Stalingrad.

By the time the Germans had pushed their way through the Grain Belt of the Soviet Union, Gennady was Politcal Officer attached to an artillery unit. After the commander had been been killed, Gennady took over what was left of his unit and ordered the men to keep firing. This was enough to hold off the nazi’s until relief could come from the fields north of Stalingrad. It was as he was being relived that a lone shell from from the retreating Gernans exploded within 30 feet of Gennady and the Colonel from the Motor Rifle company who was sent to relieve the seriously depleted 125th Artillery. The Colonel ducked in time and Gennady didnt. He was flung high in the air and landed square on his back. He awoke a few days later in a hospital in Kazan, where he learned he was Captain now, and since he was considered too injured to be returned to combat, he would be transferred to Military Intelligence at STAVKA. Gennady grimaced at the thought. Too injured to fight Germans? I.d have fought the bastard fascists from my wheelchair! He thought as he sipped his vodka.

Gennady reached for the remote. CNN international, usually. Then he would flip over to the BBC and Sky News. He was retired he always told himself, not dead. Once tired of the constant recycled news, he would surf the web for news to keep him at least informed in world he could no longer influence. “And I influenced it, all right”, Gennady Petrovich thought.

As the 89 old year pensioner flipped from Sky News to the American Fox news, he caught the very attractive news reader telling the audience that after the commercial break, would be excerpts from an ealier interview with Hillary Clinton, the junior Senator from New York, who just happened to be the Democratic Frontrunner for the 2008 Presidential Campaign.

Gennady leaned back and closed his eyes, his hands wrapped around the tumbler of vodka. “When did I first meet-ah, yes the anti-war rally in New York City!” he said aloud. As always, when ever the there was news of Hillary Clinton, Gennady smiled to himself-he knew more about the Clintons than they themselves did.

He recalled how the Rezident in New York had called him and told him of some possible recruits that could come from Welleslley college. By now Colonel Gennady Petrovich of the KGB, was an illegal living in NYC. Covered as a paint saleman, his job was perfect for recruiting and disbursing funds to the Americans who were protesting VietNam, the establishment, (What ever that was, Gennady always wondered), and willing participants to subversion. He was skeptical because while the students enjoyed burning school buildings for Communism, they balked at giving up the perks they would lose for being rich, spoiled kids. The KGB had limited success so far in the recruitment of members of the counter culture. Oh, they all spouted marxist dogma and could quote Mao (a fact that really grated on the KGB) and would take part in minor skirmishes with the “authorities”, but none of them really had it in them to finish school, clean up and obtain jobs in the US Government, or perhaps with a defense contractor.

That is until he met Hillary Rodham. She was at a war rally in the city when she pointed out by one of the Resident’s men. Gennady approached her and offered one of the flowers that were being passed around the rally, and was immediatley struck by her eyes. They were lifeless and devoid of any spark. As he engaged her in conversation, he realized this young woman was well versed in the science of Marxism-Leninism. But she had an almost sociopathic indifference, that made somewhat tedious at first. It was the eyes, remembered Gennady, as he sipped his vodka. The eyes were what made Gennady “pitch” her on the spot.

The pitch, in this case, was an outright invitation to spy for the Soviet Union. Her answer surprised him, Gennady recalled, as he sat through a moronic commercial for headache relief that you put ON your head. She turned to Gennady and asked, “What’s in it for me?”

This is the first part of my theory on Hillary Clinton’s devotion to Communism. I put it in story form, because it just seems SO plausible a scenario. While the above passges, and the ones to follow, are pure fiction, and I have no proof of Hillary ever being in contact with the KGB, I would stake my life on it. And thats a serious bet, just ask Vince Foster….

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2 Responses

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  1. Anonymous said, on September 11, 2007 at 3:29 am

    It’s amazing how people around the Clintons die, especially when they might have something to say. How many will die around Hillary? More before she’s elected or after if this country can be so ignorant.
    I didn’t laugh in Viet Nam! Many of my friends wish they had the chance to come home and laugh.
    The Clintons remind me of “trailer trash” with “new found money”!

    Sharper1

  2. Anonymous said, on September 11, 2007 at 9:24 pm

    The most telling thing about the Clintons’ eight years of living off of our dime was the line: The First Lady Denies Any Wrongdoing. Great campaign slogan, Hil.

    axeman


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