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The Good News Show

The Good News Show

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The Good News Show

202 pagine
2 ore
Oct 27, 2018


The Good News Shows begins by focusing on the TV news media in the United States, but ends up chronicling the downfall of humanity. It is no accident that this downfall coincides with the loss of our rights and freedoms, just one being the freedom of speech. So be warned: The scenes are graphic. The dramatic stories they tell revolve around the lives of the main characters, Jim and Kathy, news anchors who decide that freedom of speech is only free when we all have a voice and that the air waves belong to all of us, not the Government. Does the Government seek to control the masses by controlling the news and its advertising? Do they do this under the guise of protecting us when really it is about political power? These provocative questions and much more is the core of this book. In the end The Good News Show goes beyond the interplanetary boundaries of time and space to show just how far reaching power mongering can be, and how its corruption can produce the strangest of outcomes.

Oct 27, 2018

Informazioni sull'autore

I am William J. Ryan. I am in my 60’s, an autodidact (self-directed learner) and I am dyslexic. I not only suffer from trouble with letters, numbers and spelling of words changing on me, but structuring of sentences will sometimes be backwards. (Don’t worry; I hire someone to edit these stories before I publish them!) I write for the joy of writing, of getting an idea out there. I write in many different genres, children’s stories, historical fiction, fiction, science fiction, crime, and adventure, all the way to anti-religion. I do research on everything that I write about in order to try to be as factual as I can be. I have self – published 35 books and 22 screenplays! Self - publishing is a great way to start, but it is hard to get the audience’s attention. I am also the illustrator of all the artwork within each of my books and most of the cover art. You won’t find many authors out there that include artwork in their stories. More About Me Born in poverty, by white trash sperm and egg donors, my childhood was one horrific nightmare after another, that I would spend the rest of my life overcoming. Freeing myself from this extremely dysfunctional cluster of lost self-indulgent beings, by cutting off all contact with them, was the best thing I ever did. At an early age I chose not to have children for I was not given the skill to raise them and chose not to pass on the gruesome genetic dysfunctions that I had inherited. Writing personal painful events in one of my fictional characters is second nature and comes far far far too easy. In my early 20s, I discovered my reading and learning disability had a name, Dyslexia and I worked as an adult to overcome letters and numbers changing before my eyes. Later in life, as an older adult, I learned the power of reading and writing and became an Autodidact. This affliction never leaves the afflicted. I am glad to trade the curse of Dyslexia for the skills to invent and create people places and events that I see so clearly in my mind’s eye. Every story, every town, every person is 100% real to me and I see every picture on the wall, the view out the window, the streets and homes of the neighborhoods, making them all real to me and I hope the reader. Artfully crafted acquired skills, from a childhood trying to escape the insanity surrounding this small boy and his young developing mind, where he found himself. i.e. A clear example of a Dyslexic sentence. A short stent (seven years), in the criminal banking industry; where I saw V.P.’s change mortgage interest rates higher on loans, to increase the profits for the bank, cheating the customers. When I refused to participate, I was told, “I needed to think of the Bank First”. My response was “I will never do this.” I also witnessed V.P.’s instruct managers to create duplicate false files (and they did) concealing the crimes of the bank during a government audit, so they would pass. When I could find the courage to walk out, (without notice for they did not earn it) I did and changed my life’s path for the better, still looking for that place in my child’s mind, where people were honest, decent and truthful. All of my life up to this point, I could not face my tormentors, because I was beaten down so badly as a child. I finally found my voice and the inner strength to take the bullies in my life on,,, one at a time. With each confrontation, with each face to face battle, I have grown stronger and developed the skills to beat back the bullies of the world, exposing them for what they truly are. There is no one I will not attack back, fending off their aggression, their bullying of the weakest among us all,,, children,,, has become my single life focal point. At this intolerant unforgiving stage in my life, my understanding of man’s history, is continually being rewritten, removing the light of truth, so I pull further away from people. The worst being the so called God Fearing People, that believe they can do anything to anyone and God will forgive their sins so they can do it again. Every one of them has shown me the black oozing bag that is their soul. There is no helping them, so I stopped trying and recoil from the religious. The evil that all religious people do every day, in their God’s name, (genocide, rape of a child, land grab, slavery) show us all that their god must have horns and a pointy tale. This clear understanding of people and the evil that exist just under the skin, emerges in all my stories. A good writer should not create without understanding, but write what they know. I know this evil all too well and I can write and attest to it!!! Favorite Quotes (some) “Just because you are born in shit, does not mean you must stay there.” The quote is from a female pilot from WWII, instrumental in the development of the WASP, name unknown. “A man’s strength is measured by the strength of his enemies” Sioux These quotes are indeed very powerful. My list is very long and grows with every day. Each day I wait for them to come and kill me,,, the Deceivers that I expose. “Hell is other people” From the book NO EXIT by Jean-Paul Sartre 1944. The things he must have witnessed,,, as the Good German Christians gathered up the Jews (the god killers, Jewish Decide) for the slaughter. Oops did I let that slip? Yes the Nazis were unapologetic-ally Christian,,, Gott Mit Uns (God with us) was worn upon every German Christians soldiers belt as they justified their actions with words of Scrupulosity and its madness. Example; “Our movement is Christian” Adolf Hitler. These Christians are not good people and for me this quote helps prove it. “The waste,,, the waste,,, the waste.” These were the last words of the abdicated King Edward VIII of England. Somehow it seems to sum up the best efforts of man on Earth. “I am ashamed to say I am a member of the human race.” said by Charles Bukowski, August 16th 1920 to March 9th 1994. Words I hear in my mind every day as I see more atrocities of man and his foot print upon this small planet. I carry all of these words with me every day and use them to steer me from the rocky shores of others as I set the heading of my ship away,,, off into the setting sun,,, as I was born,,, alone. Personal Hero’s Ferdinand Waldo Demara Jr.; his skills of camouflages and moving from one life to another, immeasurably helped to guide me and re-invent myself for the better. It is with envy I look to him and his life, for he truly is,,, The Great Impostor. This is but a small window into my soul and reveals but a small part of what has made this man what he is,,, good or bad.

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Anteprima del libro

The Good News Show - William J. Ryan


The air waves in the United States belong to all of us. The Federal Government wants to keep us safe from harm, or what they perceive as harm. Or is it protection from harming certain political careers? Or do they fear a loss of power? Do they do this by preventing the airing of what they call harmful forms of entertainment on television and radio? I say freedom of speech is only free when we all have a voice.

It’s a short step from quieting a dissenting voice, to editing books, to burning books, to imprisoning those who dare speak out against perceived wrongs. The Federal Government has been attempting to control dissenting thinkers for a long time, even before the media of radio and television came into being. An example would be the Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798.

Did you know that even now radio stations are provided with a list of songs that are banned from airing? Some stations will provide you with this list. The only question we should have is, Are we being protected from dissenting voices or from the truth? If it’s the truth, who is really being protected?

Sometime in the sixties a Canadian wrote a song about America. It told about how much good America had done and the money it had spent all over the world. The song so angered Americans that the Federal Government banned the song from the U. S. air waves. Yes, make no mistake; there is a long list of songs, movies and news stories we are being protected from.

It would seem the one activity the Federal Government is best at is making money for the people who put them in power, certain corporations. We should never say anything bad about them.

Scene One

Detroit Deserted

A sharp piercing light is blinding us and as we back away from the light, we find it is coming through a bullet hole in a large green road sign hanging on a rotten post. The sign reads Welcome to Detroit. The light is the glare from the sun reflecting off a windshield of an old car sitting on blocks in front of a boarded up home. As we continue to back up, we see a street empty of life and full of trash. There are no cars on the road. Next, we see a finger pointing straight up, then a hand and then the whole body of a dead man lying alongside the road. He has been left there to rot.

The sound of buzzing flies fills the air. We hear rats squeaking as they gnaw on old flesh. In the background, we see old boarded up houses on one side of the road. There are worn, faded signs that read Foreclosure, Keep Out.

No signs of life are evident. On the other side of the road is a rusty chain-link fence with a padlocked gate that has not been opened in years. Down a side street we see a dilapidated factory building with broken windows and trash scattered everywhere. There is a faded sign hanging on the fence that reads, Closed, Moved to Mexico.

A foul stench of rot and decay is in the air, seemingly coming from every home. There’s rubbish scattered everywhere and an abundance of weeds, but no people, no dogs, no cats. All the abandoned houses look alike.

They are surrounded by overgrown trees and shrubs, junk and forsaken swing sets. Suddenly, one house appears to change into a view from the past and now is seen in black and white only. It is like a snapshot of what used to be here. The old becomes new. We even hear the sounds of kids laughing and playing in the background. Then color returns to the image and we see what is really here. There are no children. We continue to back down the street.

The next house is the same and again, another old picture flashes before us, like a photo out of a family album. Images of what is real and what used to be merge, mixing up reality with the past. Finally, we are back in the dead quiet streets of the present.

Scene Two

The Mummyoligists

Pasted over a foreclosure sign we see a new sign pointing toward downtown that says, Save Our Town Block Party. As we move closer we can hear the sounds of people in the street. There are thirty to forty people of different races mingling, talking and having a good time. It appears to be normal street activity. Drug dealers are dealing. People are talking. Drunks are drinking. Hoods are holding up some old lady and taking her purse.

Now we see six people walking down the street doing the standard convict walk. The convict walk was developed in the eighteen hundreds to keep the convicts in line and to march them to labor jobs. At the time, they would march all day; one body pressed to the back of the next one, all wearing chains until they got it right.

These six people are members of the Space Mummyoligists religious cult who believe they are the chosen ones sent here from Heaven. Their hope is to find their own kind, lost descendants from their ancient mother ship seeking a promise land. They also believe in the Book of Bla, which is considered treasonous by the Federal Government.

There is a sign on the street advertising hot dogs and ice cream. The leader, a female Space Mummyoligist, turns her head like a robot and spots the sign. She, with the others close behind, walks up to the store window and in a monotone voice, asks for some ice-cream.

The vender rudely says, We no sell ice-cream here.

The lead girl says, But your sign reads you do.

Oh no, you’ve got it wrong. The sign is for across the street. He sells ice-cream in the bar over there, pointing across the street to Jim’s Bar and Grill. The Space Mummies march over to the bar and shuffle in.

After they leave, the vendor calls to his son, Son, come over here and watch this.

His son asks, Dad, why didn’t you sell them ice-cream?

Their money is no good here. I don’t want them in our place. It runs off our good customers and besides this is much more fun. Look," He watches Jim’s Bar.

Suddenly, all the Space Mummies begin flying out the door of the bar. The bar keeper comes out and one by one, picks up each of them and throws them in the dumpster.

Why did he do that? the boy asks.

Mr. O’Brien believes their cult was responsible for his daughter’s death in some sort of religious ritual. He can’t forget what they did and how they got away with murder. Since then, he has had to live with the loss of his child, never to see justice.

Scene Three

Geneva Convention

There is a television playing in the background of the bar. An old black and white movie about witches is on the tube. The President is portraying the judge at a witch trial set back in the fourteen hundreds.

You hear him saying, Torturing people to get confessions is good.

A man in the background is screaming, Alright! I will say anything you want, just stop!

Then a woman screams. Another man is brought before the bench accused of starting a convention to stop torturing people. His name is Geneva.

Geneva speaks, Torturing people is wrong. You can get people to say anything that way. It is wrong and you know it.

Judge snidely replies, "Well, let’s just see. Most all of our crimes have been solved. We have almost no one in our prisons because all the doers of evil deeds are dead. Plus, I have the full support of the church. No one is complaining. God is in Heaven and the world is at peace. And you, sir, are sentenced to death. You will confess to one of our unsolved crimes.

But I have done nothing wrong!

You disagreed with me, states the judge.

You should never disagree with me. No one disagrees with me. I am never wrong. I am the man. I can’t be wrong. Furthermore, my dad is never wrong, either. So it is Mr. Judge to you. You’re either with us or you’re a terrorist. In God’s name you must die. Understand, I like you, but God wants you dead. It is better for me and it is better for the rest of us. We can’t have people presenting new ideas. If we want new ideas, we will ask God. He will give us any new ideas we need. Not you. You are a threat to our way of life and we can’t have that.

Scene Four

The Gang

Back at the block party we see five young punks coming around the corner and heading down the street. Along the way, they are spray painting their gang logo on the walls.

One gang member, the leader, stops the group and speaks, Who said they could have a party on our street. Let’s show them who this street belongs to!

They march down the middle of the street and walk up to an old man in a wheel chair. On the back of his chair is a Vietnam veteran sticker.

The gang leader yells out, Hey old man. You get your old self off my street or you won’t like what we do to you.

Like lightning the old man grabs two of them and knocks their heads together. Just then an old lady cracks another over the head with her purse and a brick falls out. Suddenly ten more old people appear and attack the gang members. Before you know it, the entire gang is down and out.

One old man lifts up a manhole cover with the hooked end of his cane and says, Let’s put them in here. The dumpster is full and this looks like a better place. Don’t anyone strike a match!

They all start laughing and down go the hoods.

The man in the wheel chair shouts, His streets! Ha!

Scene Five

The Red Phone

The street party continues with balloons and rides for the kids. It’s a normal block party. There must be at least a hundred local people by now from the nearby neighborhood, all just wanting to make it better. Suddenly the party stops. Everyone is quiet. A red phone on a stand by the bar is ringing.

Someone turns and takes the phone call. He yells out, They’re coming, run for your lives!!!

Total and complete chaos ensues. Confusion is everywhere. People run down alleys and jump through windows and over walls trying to hide. Shutters are closed and in seconds, the street is bare. There is not a soul to be seen. The party is over.

Off in the distance you see a big black SUV approaching. We hear only the sound of wind blowing through the empty streets. From the vantage point of a sewer drain, we watch the huge SUV tires driving over kid’s toys and party hats. Inside the SUV there are four evil looking dark men.

The driver speaks to his partner, "Everywhere we go it’s like this – no people. Are you sure there are people here at all?

The mean looking man in the passenger seat answers, Oh they’re here alright. Someday I will prove it to you. Like now! STOP THE CAR!!!!

Amid the silence you hear a small child crying. The SUV slowly moves closer to the sound. Then before your eyes, there is a small girl sitting in the middle of the street wiping tears from her eyes. Startled, she gets up and takes off running. The SUV stops and all four men jump out and run into each other.

Like a scene from the Keystone Kops, they begin chasing her. The

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