bestfiction Chapter 253 - 128: Reagan Democrat (6)
Chapter 253 - 128: Reagan Democrat (6)
Monroe’s voice carried through the microphone, his volume moderate and his tone calm, an attempt to project the poise of a rational adult.
"You’re belittling serious administration as mere clerical work, which just goes to show you don’t know the first thing about governance. Pennsylvania is facing a fiscal deficit, insufficient education funding, and a collapsing healthcare system."
"These problems can’t be solved by shouting. They require meticulous policy design, and a professional like me, who has balanced Philadelphia’s budget deficit three times."
But Murphy ignored him completely.
He didn’t even turn his head. He kept his eyes on the camera, speaking directly to the blue-collar voters who weren’t in the room but were clear in his mind’s eye, delivering his battle cry.
"Pennsylvania needs industry! It needs the return of manufacturing! Our steelworkers, our coal miners—they’ve been forgotten for too long!"
The two voices collided in the studio air.
"My Ten-Year Education Plan has already been endorsed by the Teacher’s Union!" Monroe was forced to raise his voice, trying to drown out Murphy. "I will increase funding for every school district by fifteen percent! That’s what taking responsibility for our future looks like!"
"We’re going to use that five hundred million US dollars to jump-start infrastructure projects across the entire state!" Murphy’s voice boomed like a bell as he pushed ahead at his own pace. "We’re going to make Washington hear the roar of the Rust Belt! We’re going to tell Russell Warren his good days are over!"
"Voters need stability! Predictable growth!" Monroe’s words came in a rapid-fire burst. "Not some populist carnival that’s doomed to fail! Your bond plan is a ticking time bomb!"
"We’re going to take back the jobs that were stolen from us! We’re going to reclaim the dignity that was stripped from us!" Murphy pumped his fist. "This is a war, not just for Pittsburgh, but for every working person in this state!"
On television, the spectacle was bizarre, yet utterly riveting.
The host tried to interject.
"Gentlemen! Please, stop! Take turns speaking! Mr. Monroe, Mr. Murphy!"
No one paid him any mind.
For a full three minutes, the live broadcast devolved into a chaotic mess of two simultaneous monologues.
It wasn’t until a mandatory bell rang, cutting the microphone feeds, that the dueling monologues came to an abrupt end.
Enthusiastic applause erupted in the studio.
The applause for Monroe was clearly louder and more sustained.
The well-educated, urban middle-class audience members clearly preferred the detailed policy roadmaps over the steelworker’s rage.
To the commentators in the press box, Monroe had won.
He won on logic, on poise, and on his command of the details.
But backstage, standing in the shadows of the monitors, Leo unclenched his tight fists.
He didn’t care about the decibel levels in the studio.
"We got what we wanted," Leo said softly.
They were never going to win over the Teacher’s Union, and they couldn’t come up with a more detailed state-level legislative plan than the Vice Governor.
On Philadelphia’s home turf, going toe-to-toe with a technocrat on policy details would have been suicide.
So they never intended to win this debate.
They had simply used those three minutes of chaos to forcibly plant a new impression in the minds of the statewide television audience—especially the viewers outside of Philadelphia.
’There was only one person on stage tonight ready to go to Washington and fight.’
’And that person was definitely not the guy reciting tax code provisions.’