Posts Tagged mystery

1:10 Wyatt’s Torch cont’d, “Desperate Measures”

PREVIOUSLY: Dagny launched a one-woman investigation into the history of the mysterious clean-energy motor. Hank had a fight with his wife that may have broken the camel’s back. The Bureau of Economic Planning drafted several bills that would effectively stifle the booming Colorado economy.

Yeah, I’m gonna have to go ahead and ask you a few questions.

Dags commences her investigation by meeting with Lawson, the former banker who now works for the Econ Bureau. She wants info on the condemned GM plant where she found the motor; he keeps throwing out irrelevant defenses of his piss-poor record as a banker. He did not know any of the R&D engineers at the plant but the company that ran it when he held the mortgage, the last company to run it before it went bankrupt, was Bain Capital Associated Services. The head of A.S. was named Hunsacker.

The Hunsacker Proxy

Dagny tracks Hunsacker down in Illinois, where he’s now living as a lowly boarder and drafting an autobiography about which no one will care. He’s even more of a lousy whiner than Lawson. He recalls that when he first tried to raise the funds to purchase GM he applied for a loan from Midas Mulligan, the world’s richest man and one notorious for his impeccable investment record. One can only assume he paid less in taxes than his secretary.

Anyway, Mulligan turned him away for having no collateral or prior achievements and he sued Mulligan by exploiting an anti-discrimination law that was intended to protect day laborers. One Judge Narragansett ruled against him, but a higher court reversed the decision. Shortly thereafter Mulligan disappeared mysteriously forever. A few months later Judge Narragansett did the same. But Hunsacker got his loan from Lawson in the end, which worked out real well until they both went bankrupt.

Yeah yeah whatever, did Hunsacker spend much time at the R&D lab? No, not really. The founder, Jed Starnes, who was a self-made man (obviously), he was quite the innovator. But when his heirs took over some kind of wackness went down at the plant and the research staff abandoned ship. Hunsacker didn’t feel the need to reinvest in that department. The Starnes heirs? Oh, they live low-profile in Lousiana now. That’s all the info Hunsacker’s got. Dagny bolts.

Home of the Creole Miss Havisham

Deep in the bayou our heroine uncovers the next lead. One of the Starnes heirs is a bitter drunk; another killed himself several years back; the third, Ivy, lives in a decrepit old manse studying Hinduism and, I’m just going out on a limb here, smoking a metric ton of weed. Ivy Starnes explains that she and her brothers also neglected the research & development team. Their innovation as managers was to implement a Marxist payroll structure where checks were written “from each each according to his ability, to each according to his need.”

Basically everybody at the factory voted monthly as to who needed money the most and who worked the hardest. The hardest workers were expected to log overtime hours without pay to cover the neediest employees’ generous salaries. If the industrious didn’t meet the output expectations of the payroll votes, they were fined to make up the difference. Dagny is apalled. Probably because this makes absolutely no sense. Everyone knows that communist countries didn’t abide by democratic votes! Allegory fail.

But I guess that’s kind of besides the point, which Dagny gets because she’s trying to drag the conversation back towards the R&D staff. The only name Ivy’s ganja-addled brain can remember is William Hastings, chief engineer. She remembers him because he quit pretty much immediately after the commie pay scheme was enacted.

Travel by map!

Wyoming now, and Dags knocks on the door of Mrs. Hastings, who is the first dignified person she’s yet encountered in this little adventure. Unfortunately, Mr. Hastings passed away five years ago of a heart condition. But the widow Hastings remembers the last few years of his life quite well, and is happy to regale Dagny with the tale.

William ran R&D at GM for nearly two decades. Towards the end of his tenure he had a young assistant whom he constantly called a genius. The assistant had an idea for a revolutionary new motor, and Hastings helped him complete a prototype. But Jed Starnes died less than a month later and his hippie heirs with their naive ideals showed up to implement  socialist theories of compensation, and so Hastings quit and refused to take another job.

He didn’t quite disappear mysteriously forever, though. Disappeared, sure. Mysteriously, yes. But temporarily, always. See, he and the missus continued their life together as usual except for a month every summer when he’d go on a vacation from which he returned in the fall sans explanation.

She does remember picking him up once and catching a rare glimpse of his enigmatic associates. One was the assistant engineer in question, the other a dignified older gent. Though she never learned their names, by pure coincidence she happened to run into the older guy again not too long ago. She remembers it clearly, because she was shocked to see such a dignified character working as the short-order cook in a roadside diner in Bumblefuck, Wyoming…

Bumblefuck, Wyoming. Dusty road, nothing for miles, just this one crummy diner. Dagny pulls up, steps inside, and orders a hamburger. She has butterflies in her stomach. This is it, she can feel it. The case is about to crack wide open.

Nice place you got here.

There are two truckers at the counter and she waits for them to leave before she strikes up a conversation with the cook. “This is the best hamburger I’ve ever eaten,” she says. “Thanks,” he replies.

She sizes him up. “Come work for me. I’ll pay you $10,000 a year.”  That $75,000 adjusted for inflation, by the way, but he turns her down flat. She doesn’t understand why. ‘I hate to see ability being wasted!’ she cries, and he says ‘So do I.’

She can tell by his tone that they’re simpatico and is suddenly overwhelmed with how much bullshit she’s had to put up with lately. She spills to him how impossible it is to find anybody worth dealing with anymore and how she’s trying so hard to make something good happen but everybody along the way is a total fucktard.

He takes all this in rather serenely and then asks what exactly it is she came here looking for. “Did you know the last man to serve as the assistant R&D engineer at GM?” He cautiously admits that he did.  What’s it to you, lady? “He invented a motor. It’s vitally important I find him.”

The cook asks who she is and she tells him she’s Dagny Taggart. This whole scene makes a lot more sense to him now but he tells her ‘Give it up, Miss Taggart.’ He will not give her the name, or even tell her if the man is alive or dead. This is the end of the road.

“Who are you, anyway?” she asks him. “The name’s Akston. Hugh Akston,” comes the nonchalant reply.

Dagny’s mind is blown. “Hugh Akston the philosopher? Hugh Akston, Francisco’s former mentor? Hugh Akston who disappeared mysteriously forever years ago? What the hell are you doing frying eggs in the middle of the desert?! None of this makes any sense!”

In reality this is a picture of the first prime minister of India smoking up a British diplomat, and it has no business fitting this scene so well.

Hugh Akston leans back against the counter and takes out a pack of cigarettes. He offers her one and then lights them both up. “I told you you hit a dead end. But I’ll give you one clue. There is no such thing as a contradiction. Only faulty logic. If your conclusions make no sense, go back and check your premises.”

A bell rings in Dagny’s head. Francisco told her the same thing when trying to explain his behavior the last time she saw him. She thanks Akston for the burger and the butt and leaves. As she steps into her car she stops to examine the cigarette in her hand. It belongs to no brand she can recognize. The only insignia is a tiny golden dollar sign stamped above the filter.

The time has come to give up and go home. Dagny arrives at the Wyatt Junction station to wait for the Galt Line to take her back east. But there is hubbub on the platform and she overhears somebody saying they don’t think Rearden will be able to follow all the new regulations at the same time. Some other guy is like “Hey fuck him, he’s rich. He can figure it out.”

Dagny’s blood freezes and she grabs the nearest newspaper. The Congress has given Wesley Mouch blanket authority to issue economic directives. He has placed production caps and price controls on nearly everything and levied extra taxes on Colorado businesses to subsidize the rest of the country’s failing infrastructure.

The memory of when she first met Ellis Wyatt leaps into her brain, the time he stormed into her office and threatened to fuck her up if she fucked around with his business. Another sudden recollection: the time he furiously smashed his glass after they toasted the opening of the Galt Line.

In a panic Dagny races for a pay phone, unsure what she’s trying to prevent but determined to do something. She dials Wyatt and starts screaming ‘Ellis, don’t! Don’t!’ but reaches only a dial tone.

Drop the mic and walk away.

Behind her, just past the station, the rolling hill with Wyatt’s estate and the vast expanses of his oil fields suddenly explode into a teeming wall of flames. All of the silhouetted derricks go up like torches. Dagny drops the phone in despair. He’s not there, she knows that much. He’s disappeared mysteriously forever. This is just his parting gift. One last “fuck you” for The Man. No more oil for you! Try running a techno-industrial economy now, sorry motherfuckers! Peace out.

REFLECTIONS ON PART ONE: The Logical Downfall of Ayn Rand

PART TWO, CHAPTER 1: “Storm’s Abrewin'”

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1:10 Wyatt’s Torch, “Desperate Times”

PREVIOUSLY: Creepy-ass Jim met a starstruck young cashier named Cheryl at a Duane Reade in Harlem. Dagny & Hank acted out all of their most aggressive sex fantasies and took a discreet road trip through the Midwest, during which they discovered a revolutionary protoype for a clean-energy motor… but it’s been junked and raided for parts.

Dagny and Rearden are questioning the local archivist in Hooverville, WI about what happened to The 20th Century Motor Company, a.k.a. GM. “The 20th Century was sold out,” says the clerk. Cute.

Always follow the money.

The last owner was “The People’s Mortgage Company,” headed by a man named Yonts. The PMC heavily advertised its cheap credit. When Yonts acquired the GM factory he took out a loan against it, split up and sold off all the capital goods, then resold the mortgage without deleveraging the balance sheet and skipped town. The tangle of let’s call them “collateralized debt obligations” he left behind have bound the legal ownership of the property in enough red tape that it will be unspooling for years to come.

And did Yonts actually operate the factory before extracting all its value? No, says the archivist. ‘He wasn’t the kind that ever operates anything.’ I think they call those kinds of people “operators” actually. Or “confidence men.”

Speaking of confident men, Hank cuts to the chase. Where are all the records on this? The archivist shrugs. They’ve all been scavenged by the destitute locals for kindling. For kindling. Look I know the economy crumbled here but why in God’s name would people need to burn public records for fire in America’s breadbasket? Has the earth been salted and scorched? Did all the flora die? Has the climate… changed or something? Anyway the only lead our heroes can get from the archive-less archivist is that the guy who sold the factory to Yonts is a mayor in another nearby ghost town.

"You guys got any money?"

Mr. Mayor is like one of Nucky’s lackeys from Boardwalk Empire, sporting a gaudy pinky ring and shamelessly recounting how he acquired the property through graft and could not care less what Yonts did with it. In fact he always liked Yonts. He was a charmer. As far as leads go, Mr. Mayor bought the mortgage from a banker named Lawson who also gave out an irresponsible amount of cheap credit, but he was just a putz who was too nice for his own good, not a scam artist. He went out of business. Oh, and he works for the Bureau of Economic Planning in DC now.

Still without clues to who invented the motor, Dagny and Hank leave. They have the motor with them, under a tarp in the back of the car. Dags calls Eddie to arrange its shipment to New York, but doesn’t even get a word out before Eddie starts throwing a fit. The aforementioned Bureau is drafting all sorts of new bills to take control of Colorado.

Smash cut to Manhattan. Dagny’s hidden the motor in a defunct emergency generator room deep in the bowels of Taggart Transcon. Up in the executive offices, word is some labor unions want caps placed on the use of the Galt Line so that more commerce is forced to flow to other providers. Orren Boyle’s industrial conglomerate wants caps placed on the production of rMetal so that more commerce is forced to flow to steel. There are other legislative suggestions from other interest groups as well, the cumulative effect of which would be a ruinous clusterfuck for the Colorado economy — which at this point is basically the national economy.

"I am the one who blocks!... your... ideas. ...Shut up."

Dagny actually turns to Jim for help. “Hey fuckface, this lobby stuff is your wheelhouse, are you making sure we don’t get bent over or what?” But Jim has his usual obstinate knee-jerk reaction to anything Dagny-related. ‘You can’t expect to run the national economy to suit your own convenience,’ Jim sneers at her. The gall of that sentence coming from James Taggart leaves her speechless, so she decides to keep investigating the motor instead.

Meanwhile, Hank is at home in PA and mired in similar bullshit. Since he now has to buy what used to be his iron ore from the spineless Larkin, he’s not getting his shipments on time. Larkin has fully succumbed to being Jim and Boyle’s crony, basically, and the resulting gaps in the rMetal supply chain have forced Rearden to make his own bribe-riddled deals to keep the mills running. He does not like that at all.

So in the evening he retires to his room to just get away from everything, and naturally this is the night his wife shows up in new lingerie desperately seeking affection like a neglected pet.

"Try and ignore me now, ya dick."

Poor Lillian tries to be flirty but he’s curt. She says she just wants to hang out and catch up but he bluntly admits he doesn’t give a shit about her high-society gossip. Starting to get upset, she wishes he would just lie to make her feel better, which he finds even more unattractive.

They get into a tiff and similar to Hank’s mother in Chapter 7 Lily claims that loving someone for their vices and shortcomings, and not for their virtues, is what makes love valuable, because in so doing one forfeits one’s own virtue and consience for the sake of their beloved. Hank is repulsed, but it also causes a rush of guilt in him for fucking Dagny on the side. He is suddenly struck that Lillian’s furtive cruelty is ‘not a method of torture, but a twisted form of despair.’ She loves him. And she knows he doesn’t love her back. And that, ultimately, is what has turned her into the harpy he sees before him. Fuckin’ light dawns on marble head, Hank. Jesus.

The scene only grows more pathetic when Hank asks her flat-out what it is she wants, what would make her happy. Because that always helps when arguing with a woman. She points out that the fact he has to ask such questions is the very problem. And yes, she’s noticed that despite the nightmare going on in his business life he seems less tense lately, which I take to mean she suspects the affair.

But she’s here trying to bridge that gap, allowing him to see her vulnerability, despite all the wounded pride and bruised dignity. She slides in for an embrace, runs her hands down his arms. He reflexively shoves her away. Ouch. Cold, Hank.

He immediately knows that was too much. He apologizes and asks her genuinely what she considers her purpose in life. What is it that she really wants? Seriously. He will try his best to give it to her.

‘You.’

Aaand he literally does not understand what she means. Fuck you Ayn.  asks her to explain and that’s the last straw for Lillian. She storms out.

"My life sucked, now I do too. Ask me how."

Goddamn, this is so much like the Draper marriage you might as well just watch a Mad Men greatest hits compilation. Right down to the part where you feel terrible for the wife until you eventually have to admit that victim of emotional abuse or not, her once-innocent love has curdled into miserable bitchery and it’s too late for her. But, at least in my version, this was her one last chance, her truly sad and tragic moment.

Hank seems to have reached the same conclusion actually, except he believes so much in the sanctity of contracts that he once again punishes himself with guilt instead of considering a divorce. Nonetheless, his thoughts drift to Dagny and how much seeing her would make him feel better. If only she hadn’t left for DC to question that Lawson character…

NEXT: 1:10 cont’d, “Desperate Measures”

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