 Upton Sinclair, in general, was a great inspiration to me because he's not afraid to take on big things in his fiction, and he's not afraid to tell stories that otherwise sort of can't be told on the record in non-fiction. His novel Oil took on the oil industry and all the muckraking and its effect on politics. It was sort of so controversial that it was dragged into a court in Boston, where they couldn't really accuse him of doing anything against the political system, so they found it obscene for a small segment where it discussed abortion, but I will read for a moment two pages where it's critical of the Harding administration. All this summer and fall, Dad and Mr. Roscoe had been carrying heavy burden. They were helping to make over the thinking of the American people. A presidential campaign was underway, and oilmen, having made so bold as to select the candidate, now had to finish the job by persuading the voters that he was a great and noble-minded statesman. Also, they had to pay a part of the expense, which would come to $50 million, so Bunny learned from the conversations at Paradise and at the Monastery. This was several times as much as would get recorded, since the money went through local and unofficial agencies. It came from the big protected interests, the corporations, the banks, everyone that had anything to get out of the government or could be squeezed by politicians. The process was known as frying out the fat. The oilmen, having grabbed the big prize, were naturally a shining mark for all campaign committees, county, state, and national. Dad and Mr. Roscoe received visits from Jake Coffey and from the bosses of the state machine and listened to hair-raising stories about the dangers of the situation. It was necessary to persuade the American people that the Democratic administration for the past eight years had been wasteful and corrupt, ignorant and fatuous, and that was easy enough. But also, it was necessary to persuade them that an administration by Senator Harding was likely to be better, and that was not so easy. Naturally, the chairman of campaign committees wanted to make it appear as difficult as possible, for the more money that passed through their hands, the larger the amount that would stick. As the campaign drew to its close, Bunny had the satisfaction of hearing his father swearing outrageously and wishing he had taken his son's advice and left the destinies of his country to the soap manufacturer who had put up the millions for General Wood. The senator from Ohio was a large and stately and solemn-faced person and conducted what was called by the newspaper as a front porch campaign, that is to say, he did not put himself out to travel on trains and meet people, but received deputations of the hay and feed dealers of Duluth, or the morticians of Oslo Atomi. They would sit in camp chairs upon his lawn, and a statesman would appear and read an imposing discourse, which had been written by a secretary of Vernon Roscoe's selection, and given out to all the press associations the day before, so that it could be distributed over the wires and published simultaneously on 50 million front pages. That is a colossal propaganda machine, and the men who run it have to lose a lot of sleep, but the majestic candidate lost no sleep, he was always fresh and serene and impassive. He had been that way throughout his career, for the able businessmen who groomed him and paid his way had never failed to tell him what to do. Bunny now dwelt upon an Olympian height, looking down as a god upon the affairs of pitiful mortals. Dad and Mr. Roscoe let him hear everything, being sure that common sense would win in the end, and he would accept their point of view. They had a philosophy which protected them like a suit of chain mail against all hesitations and doubts. The affairs of the country had to be run by the men who had the money and brains and experience, and since the mass of the people had not sense enough to grant the power freely, the mass of the people had to be bamboozled. Slogans must be invented and hammered into their heads by millions, just billions of repetitions. It was an art, and experts knew how to do it, and you paid them, but by jeez, the price made you sweat blood. The tremendous campaign came to an end, and it was revealed that 16,140,585 Americans had been successfully bamboozled. Senator Harding had 7 million more votes than the Democratic candidate, the greatest plurality ever polled in American history. Thank you.