Chapter 422: Chapter 195: Full of Loopholes
"That’s precisely what makes him so dangerous."
Taylor’s voice grew serious.
"He’s challenging the very foundation of the United States."
"The principle this country was founded on is a wariness of power, a mistrust of big government."
"We believe in individual effort, in the free market, and in personal responsibility."
"But Leo Wallace is telling people to forget all that, to just hand their fates over to him."
"’I’ll give you houses, give you jobs, help you get off drugs, and even help raise your children.’"
"He’s trying to build an omnipotent government."
"He’s trading freedom for welfare."
"That isn’t rebuilding trust. That’s buying souls."
"If this way of thinking is allowed to spread, if voters get used to this spoon-fed style of governance..."
"...then the American spirit will die."
"We’ll become a nation of giant babies, forever waiting for a dictator like him to hand out candy."
A brief silence fell over the conference room.
These Republican Party elites had precisely dissected every loophole and hidden danger behind Leo’s so-called "Pittsburgh model."
They saw through Leo’s sophistry, through his packaging.
But seeing through it didn’t mean they could solve it.
"The problem is," sighed a researcher who hadn’t spoken yet, "the voters are buying it."
"Those blue-collar workers who’ve lost their jobs, the young people who can’t afford rent—they don’t care if it’s sophistry or a long-term solution."
"They only see the immediate benefits."
"The Democratic Party’s polling data says it all. They already have the upper hand in Pennsylvania."
"If we can’t find an effective counter-strategy, we’re going to face a total collapse in the Rust Belt next election."
All eyes turned back to Taylor.
As the Republican Party’s top strategist, he was here to solve problems.
Taylor turned off the screen.
"Gentlemen, there’s no need to panic."
"I’ve read the draft of that so-called ’National Strategic Supply Chain Resilience Act’ and analyzed all of Wallace’s speeches."
"I have to admit, the young man is very good at stoking emotions. He’s packaged himself as a savior, a Don Quixote charging at windmills."
"But as soon as we peel back that beautiful coat of sentimentality, we’ll find it’s full of problems."
Taylor stood up, walked to the whiteboard, and picked up a black marker.
"His bill is logically inconsistent and full of holes. On the battlefield of public opinion, the advantage is on our side."
A young data analyst, Simmons, looked at the tablet in his hands, his brow furrowed. "Mr. Taylor, I understand your point, but the data doesn’t lie."
"Wallace’s training program has genuinely improved workers’ skill levels. Statistically, it’s a positive. If we attack the training program directly, won’t voters think we’re just looking for trouble?"
Taylor stared at Simmons.
"Simmons, you’re still thinking with that Ivy League brain of yours. That’s why you can never handle the unwashed masses."
"Listen, workers want jobs, a paycheck, and a beer after their shift. They don’t need someone telling them, ’You’re not good enough, you need to be re-educated to fit into this new world.’"
Taylor said, "Wallace’s so-called training program is, in essence, a form of arrogance."
"He’s telling men who have lived on that land for decades: ’You’re obsolete. Your skills are garbage. You have to relearn how to be a proper cog in the machine according to my standards.’"
"This is no longer an employer-employee relationship; it’s become a teacher-student one."
"He’s turned producers into pupils."
"And what we need to tell those blue-collar workers is that Wallace looks down on them. He thinks they’re stupid, that they’re behind the times. He’s stripping them of their dignity as skilled laborers and forcing them to become obedient students in his utopia."
"That is the greatest insult to a blue-collar worker’s dignity."
The head of PR, Cooper, nodded. He seemed to have grasped Taylor’s line of thought. "So, we don’t attack the training itself. We attack his attitude, that ’I know what’s best for you’ elitist condescension."
"Exactly." Taylor nodded in approval.
"Now let’s look at his so-called ’community revival’," Taylor continued. "Wallace has cleaned the streets, covered the walls in murals, and even brought in cafes and art galleries."
"But in the eyes of a coal miner, what does that mean?"
Cooper hesitated. "That... the living environment has improved?"
"Wrong!" Taylor slammed his hand on the whiteboard. "It means gentrification! It means invasion!"
"Young people drinking expensive pour-over coffee and discussing postmodern art are flooding into their communities. Rents are rising, prices are rising. The cheap bars that once belonged to the workers are being turned into vegan restaurants."
"For the original residents, this isn’t revival. It’s a purge."
"We have to exploit that fear. We need to tell them that Wallace is bringing a cultural invasion of East and West Coast elites."
"He wants to destroy your way of life. He wants to turn your community into another Brooklyn or San Francisco."
"He’s using your tax money to build a playground for these outsiders. By the time it’s all built, you’ll find you can’t even afford to live in the home that was once yours."
Simmons nodded. "This is creating alienation based on class identity."
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