3. [WP] You were the 50th President of the United States. You're finishing your mem...

[WP] You were the 50th President of the United States. You're finishing your memoirs and have chosen to end the book by revealing something you were told to keep under wraps

I grew up in a Christian home. My family and community taught me valuable life lessons, the most important of which is that all mean are created equal. Early on, I learned that was absolutely a lie. Some boys ran faster than others. Some boys were taller. Some boys were smarter. I was none of those things. I had one talent all my life, that was talking. Talking to get out of trouble, talking to women, talking to people. All I ever was able to do was talk.

It was my divine skills at speaking that allowed me to become President in the first place, to convince America to vote for me. And when I became President of the United States? I wasn't allowed to talk any longer. Everything I ever said was written by somebody else, screened by another somebody, and then approved by someone else. It went on and on like this, for years.

During my time as President, there were so many things I wish I hadn't learned. Things that are so sensitive to the fabric of human existence and intellectual thought, that it isn't even given a clearance level. It's more than classified, more than top secret, the information is so disturbing that it isn't even called anything. I hate even knowing it.

There is no weight on a man's heart like being President. You are the leader of the greatest nation in human history. And with that power, responsibility, and expectations, comes a mountain of utter shit. Politics this, politics that. It's not even about politics. It's about telling people out there what the fuck is going on.

Nobody has a god damned clue what's really happening out there. I know I probably sound like a hippie, strung out on too much acid. Like I should have a fuckin' tin foil hat on right now. This isn't some conspiracy coming from your idiotic co-worker, this is coming from ME, the President of the United Fucking States! And there is only one reality here, okay? In that reality... Aliens fucking exist.

We're actually fucking talking to these sons a bitches! How they got here, what they want from us, I have no idea. I think we're holding one of them hostage, even. In the middle of one of the least likely of places, where nobody in their right mind would ever suspect the US of A to be talking to aliens? Yeah, that's where we are. We're in fucking Africa. Smack dab in the middle of a country half torn to shit from AIDS and civil war. Right in the middle of all that shit? There's a compound, guarded by some of the most trained and deadly soldiers in the American Army, twenty-four-fuckin-seven, all protecting a fifty-foot cement wall building, buried miles under the ground.

Scientists, engineers, biologists, chemists, every branch of science, going in and out, all escorted by soldiers. Doing tests, communicating, analyzing.

All of us are just terrified of their people coming to take this guy from us. We're pretty sure they can't find him, he's so far underground, without any technology. They can't get him. Or her, I don't even know if it has a gender. Could you imagine, though? If they came to take him? We'd be so fucked!

Sometimes I can't even believe it. Sometimes I just want to curl up and cry. Aliens exist. We, humanity? We're just walking, talking monkeys. And we are not created equal... And the thing that keeps me up at night? God does not exist. Can America even function without the concept of God? I don't think it can.

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