Chapter 204: Chapter 204 Firefly

What was the biggest news after this year’s Oscar nominee luncheon ended? It wasn’t the host’s promise to stick with live broadcasting, nor the stars’ expectations for the award ceremony; instead, it was the press conference where the usually mild-mannered Firefly suddenly exploded, harshly criticizing and mocking the entire Bush administration, denouncing the war as illegal, wrong, and terrible.

Wang Yang’s prediction that the war itself would be easy was not new. After all, anyone with some military knowledge and attention to the news would know the disparity in strength between the Allies and Iraq. Modern warfare would definitely involve airstrikes and electronic warfare, with ground troops moving in support; no one believed Saddam’s government had the capability to fight back, with George Bush even stating, “The whole war will be counted in hours.”

That’s why so many people thought going to war was “no big deal”—it would end in ten days and within one or two years the mission would be accomplished and troops withdrawn. Firefly said that even one month was laughable. According to the government’s propaganda, the Iraqi people were waiting for the righteous Allied forces to come and liberate them, to remove Saddam, the murderous tyrant, and help them establish a completely democratic and self-governing government.

Once the Allied forces entered, the Iraqi people would welcome them on the streets, everyone cheering in unison—how could there be any problems?

In fact, survey data from people on the street showed that most were unclear about the Bush administration’s main reason for launching the war, which was Iraq’s possession of weapons of mass destruction. 50% of the public answered “overthrowing Saddam’s regime,” 20% correctly said “preventing the spread of nuclear weapons,” and 15% mentioned “protecting American interests,” while the remaining 15% said they didn’t know.

But Firefly seemed to hold no hope for the post-war reconstruction, declaring that Iraq would be irreparably chaotic and would drag the US and world economy into the mire. Such opinions existed but were in the minority, pessimistic, preparing for the worst… after all, the mainstream media labeled them as “alarmist.” Besides, with war looming, was this the time to make such statements and disturb the morale? This wasn’t what most people wanted to hear.

“As ‘an undergraduate student who didn’t graduate,’ Firefly has his own views, but they seem too pessimistic and self-righteous. He is just a spoiled young man, and we need not be too harsh on him,” the Los Angeles Times commented. The Washington Post, with a tone of sarcasm, added, “If Wang Yang wants to increase his visibility this way, he is mistaken; now is not the time for his grandiloquence.”…

Many media outlets reported and commented on this, which was far more significant than the recent rumors of “Firefly schooling Bill Gates,” the latter having no evidence and only drawing the attention of gossip tabloids; whereas the former had video evidence, and the content involved global attention to major world events.

Firefly’s words held a different value from that of typical Hollywood stars and celebrities; on such significant matters, his influence was greater than that of an Academy Award-winning actor, as he was the youngest Best Director, acknowledged as destined to become one of the most important pieces in film history; and also the youngest billionaire, worth over a billion at 23, the new face of the American Dream, and the new idol for the young generation.

It’s as if for Steven Spielberg, their attitude and words are the most concerning matters within Hollywood to the world. The media had asked Spielberg many times, and he always lightly said, “If Iraq really had weapons of mass destruction, then I would have no choice but to support the Bush administration.” Initially, Wang Yang had said the same thing, only adding one more sentence: “Of course, I do not hope for war to happen.”

Now, he suddenly spoke fiercely, calling George Bush an idiot. Aside from the usual opposition to bloodshed and casualties, opposition to illegal deployment of troops, although he wasn’t “standing by Saddam” like Shawn Penn, there were still many netizens who threatened to boycott Wang Yang’s films, saying he was arrogant, ignorant of military politics, had no right to lecture, he was just a fool…

Edwin said, “I declare I will no longer watch his movies, he meddles too much! Wang Yang, go make your movies!” Luke said, “Put him in Iraq to live for a while, and he will agree with the war, we can’t be so selfish!” Brooke said, “Overthrowing Saddam won’t take more than two weeks!” Cynthia said, “I think the White House definitely knows more than Las Vegas.”…

However, anti-war movie fans and fans immediately supported Wang Yang even more. Young idols who dared to speak like this, and spoke so reasonably, were almost nonexistent. His passionate demeanor made many female fans swoon. Emma said, “I don’t like Spielberg’s shrinking attitude, Wang Yang didn’t disappoint me in the end, good!” Clair said, “Wang Yang, you should say this is a shameful war! America is embarrassing!” Hannah said, “If his prediction is correct, then the White House will be very embarrassed.”…

All had controversies, but according to the belief in the government VS anti-war public opinion percentage of 60% to 40%, Wang Yang’s popularity was plummeting dramatically.

“Mamma Mia!” Watching the video on the computer screen, Natalie couldn’t help exclaiming, propping up her cheeks and continuing to watch the man with black hair and a mocking face on the podium, listening to him say, “What military spending, 200 billion, 500 billion…” Silently watching the entire news video, Natalie muttered, “Why are there such people? It’s hard to be good friends with him.”

She was in a daze for a few seconds before laughing and posting a comment, “Support Wang Yang, I love him to death! My name is Natalie!” After she sent it, seeing that comment displayed there, she felt a bit awkward and regretful, but it couldn’t be changed, she slapped her hands on the keyboard: “Let it stay, anyway, there are too many people called Natalie, no one will know it’s me!”

“There really is one!” Natalie then opened Wang Yang’s blog to see if he had said anything about this matter. There indeed was an update! She clicked and skimmed through it, very long, even with an outline, basically an upgraded version of the video, the text was rational and calm, thoroughly and detailedly writing why he was pessimistic about post-war reconstruction, why he thought the war would last a month, and so on…

“Iraq has never achieved true national integration, Saddam’s power core was the Sunni Sect, and people from his hometown, Tikrit. He imposed long-term oppressive control over the Shia Sect and Kurds, which was his crime. Under such rule, the resentment among different sects in Iraq was very deep, people’s loyalty belonged to their sect and ethnicity, not ‘Iraq.’ After Saddam’s fall, rushing to democratic reform would only make the conflicts among sects public.

From deduction, democratic elections would definitely lead to the rise of Shia Sect and Kurds, because of such a public base. The political stance and fundamental interests among the three sects were very different, the fierce sectarian conflicts would cause a lot of chaos and confusion, and give birth to the democratic monstrosity of ‘sectarian politics.’ Perhaps in the end, Iraq breaking up into three countries is the appropriate solution. Then there are new issues, how to avoid ethnic cleansing?…”

Natalie looked pensive as she considered these speculations, which all seemed quite reasonable. As an Israeli-born Jew who returned to Israel every year, she was all too aware of the religious conflicts in the Middle East—it wasn’t so easy to live in peace when so many had lost their reason to madness.

“You have reached a number that is currently in use.” Hearing this from her phone, Natalie nonchalantly pursed her lips, set down the phone, and kept browsing the internet.

Wang Yang sat in the wicker chair on the balcony of his two-story home as darkness fell. He listened to Mark Strong’s voice over the phone, resigned, “Yang, this is unwise of you, immature even. Even if what you said is right, it would take too long to prove. But for now, you’re just going to make a lot of people dislike you.”

“Uh, I’m sorry…” Wang Yang chuckled self-deprecatingly. Looking back, he really had been emboldened by alcohol! He had already been half-drunk at the time, and he was angry over Jessica’s situation. But it was more so that he had wanted to speak his mind, and then, fueled by his drunken indignation, he blurted it all out impulsively… Rachel would say, “He tends to lose his senses without thinking of the consequences.”

And that’s what he had done when he beat someone up, cursed at the principal, and in court… Wang Yang covered his forehead, slipping into introspective contemplation. He had just berated Joshua a great deal, only to make a mistake himself shortly after. Was this a mistake? He couldn’t help wondering. It was as if a martial arts expert were faced with a powerful villain—should he indulge in the satisfaction of revenge, striking down the bad guy with a single blow, or just let it go?

How conflicting! Wang Yang sighed lightly. This personality had been with him since he was a child; what should he do? Apart from hearing Mark Strong’s voice, he faintly heard a girl’s light laughter saying, “Keep going! You’re loved by so many people regardless of your temper.” He shook his head with a smile and said into his phone, “Yes, I’m very willful. The more I spoke, the more excited and enraged I became. I don’t know…”

He looked up at the star-filled dark sky, frowning, “Mark, I’m really not The Godfather… What do you think I should do?” He thought back over his 23 years of life, asking somewhat aimlessly, “I’ve thought about this question a lot—about myself. You know I admire Dennis Rodman a lot, except for his philandering; but it seems I should learn to become The Godfather, don’t you think?”

Mark Strong had never seen him so vulnerable before. After pondering for a moment in a more serious tone, he said, “Yang, you’re a smart man, one of the smartest I’ve ever met, but sometimes impulsive. What should you do? No one can answer that for you; it’s your life.” He chuckled, “You can’t find the answer because you’re still too young, Yang. There are so many things you haven’t experienced. But it’s only after those experiences that you’ll understand your choices and know what to do.”

“That makes sense.” Wang Yang nodded slightly, remembering some past incidents and laughed, “I had classes like that in school, you know. To experience different emotions, we did a lot of pretty dumb things.”

“When I was studying at USC, I was very arrogant, always thinking, ‘I’m meant to be a CEO.’” Mark Strong chortled with self-mockery on the other end, “Then I was continuously unemployed. When someone suggested I become an agent, I said, ‘I would never be some damn agent, that’s humiliating!’ But why did I end up doing it? When you see your newborn daughter…”

He spoke with an air of wonder, “Seeing her cry, seeing her laugh, it’s too hard to describe… I told myself, ‘Alright, be an agent.’” He laughed again, “Yang, you’re not married, you don’t have children. When you become a parent one day, many questions will have their answers. Just take it slow for now! But you absolutely must not cross the line, even if it’s the truth; you should know about The Emperor’s New Clothes—don’t destroy yourself.”

“Hmm, I’m not someone without any sense,” Wang Yang nodded, putting the question aside for the moment—life would give him the answer. He shifted the topic and asked, “So Mark, is that it for now? Any other problems? By the way, I just wrote a detailed analysis on my blog. I didn’t make things clear enough at the press conference, so I figured since I’ve already spoken up, might as well lay it all out calmly.”

“Blogs aren’t a big deal, but still, keep it down. And if you must speak, keep your tone cool so others can respond to you calmly,” Mark Strong’s voice was earnest. Wang Yang hummed in agreement, and Mark added, “As for everything else, businesswise, there’s nothing much at the company, we’ll handle it.”

The company’s ordinary business operations weren’t greatly affected. After all, many average moviegoers who didn’t follow entertainment news had no idea who the amazing Yang was or that he was the chairman of Firefly Films; they couldn’t even make sense of the reasons behind the troop deployment, let alone be aware of his remarks; not everyone supported the deployment. Furthermore, the public isn’t that narrow-minded; it wasn’t a “taboo” topic like religion, race, abortion, or homosexuality—just a strong anti-war sentiment, and Wang Yang’s views were not in support of Saddam.

A movie company releasing films that critique the government, talk about religion, or support homosexuality isn’t going to face major boycotts; usually, only that particular movie gets heat, harshly criticized by conservatives, perhaps banned from showing in some states.

And in terms of business dealings and collaborations with other companies, there would be no impact—the impacts that existed had done so for a long time. This country wasn’t Iraq; business is business, and every company has people who support both Republicans and Democrats, each with their own political stances. They might be disgruntled behind the scenes, but when it’s time to cooperate, they collaborate regardless. Republicans might not like Wang Yang, but Democrats certainly appreciated him a lot.

The film and entertainment industry, Hollywood, has always been a stronghold for the Democratic Party. Wang Yang’s outspoken views might have been attacked by the general public, but they didn’t offend his peers or the industry. If anything, Hollywood now had one more meddlesome star.

“The most important thing, however, is your own movie’s box office,” Mark Strong let out a sigh, sounding a bit headache-ridden, “Those entertainment fans who care about the war, quite a few hawks will temporarily dislike you, and their social circles will be affected as well. Your popularity will certainly drop a bit, damned be it!” He coughed a few times before adding, “You know what I mean.”

Wang Yang furrowed his brow thinking about his hint, then hummed in acknowledgment. Mark continued, “You know that’s what’s frustrating.” Wang Yang knew what he meant was actually, “If your predictions later turn out to be correct and those people become anti-war, they’ll become your die-hard fans.” Though they were on a secure line, Mark Strong still avoided expressing emotions openly when discussing these sensitive issues.

“`

“It’s not that serious, they’re just blustering now. There won’t be many who’ll follow through with a boycott. You’re not an actor,” Mark Slant chuckled a few times, his tone turning light-hearted as he laughed, “Besides, there’s only one Amazing Yang. What can they do to boycott him?”

“Right, it’s useless to think about these things. Let’s just focus on the work!” Wang Yang responded, then heard Mark’s laughing again, “Yang, actually, if you think about it from another angle, this situation has a benefit, Best Director at the Oscars! Those who haven’t voted yet now know who they should cast their vote for.”

Hollywood is anti-war, and so are the Oscars, and the judges like to support those who are under attack by the mainstream media. With war on the verge of breaking out, ‘The Pianist’ became a hot favorite, and Roman Polanski’s chance for Best Director suddenly surged; but now Wang Yang has boldly stood up, and although he’s been ridiculed and vilified by the pro-war faction, he has won the hearts of many peers and Academy jurors.

“Oh really! I hadn’t thought about that benefit.” Wang Yang suddenly laughed, shaking his head as he chuckled, “That’s really great! Mark, you should have reminded me earlier, then I could’ve spoken up a long time ago, you don’t know how long I’ve held back.”

The two chatted for a while longer before ending their call. Wang Yang looked up at the night sky, enjoying a moment of tranquility, before just getting up to go over to the railing when his phone rang again. He answered, “HELLO?” Natalie’s voice came through from the other end, laughing, “Hi, Amazing Yang, giving George Bush a lesson this time, huh?” Wang Yang shrugged and laughed, “Yes, lately I’ve become a fool.”

“Hah!” Natalie’s tone was disdainful as she said, “Those who think you’re a fool are a bunch of self-righteous fools. Many of them think Iraq is in Africa.” She sighed heavily, “I just read your blog and I completely agree with what you said. The situation in the Middle East is not that simple…”

“Let’s drop it! I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ve said it all on my blog.” Wang Yang cut her off, not wanting to discuss Iraq any further. Natalie uttered an “oh” without getting upset, and, intrigued, she asked, “Then what? Is something bothering you? A lot of people online are cursing you. Young man, do you have some psychological trauma? There’s a psychologist here to treat you.”

Wang Yang smiled, leaning back against the sturdy railing, and rattled off into the phone, “I’ve been pondering some questions. In this world, can you just hoist the flag of freedom and hit others wherever you want? Is that true? Can others really achieve true freedom? What if they already have it? What if they don’t want it? In the end, does the world become better or worse? And, what impact does war have on those who participate and experience it?”

Turning to gaze at the pitch-black sky in the distance, he thought of the fully-prepared coalition soldiers, the Iraqi soldiers, and the grave civilians he had seen on TV and the computer, he sighed, “You know, whether it’s the coalition or Iraq, many people are loyal to their faith, to their orders; they all believe they are on the side of justice, and they really trust what the government says.”

“For this, they set out on journeys, for this, they give their lives, but the government is actually full of lies. And the innocent civilians, whose homes are destroyed, who are displaced… everyone’s lives are changed.”

“Let me think about that.” Natalie mulled over these questions, herself a bit overwhelmed, and then laughed lightly, “At least I now know that you have a deep understanding of this war.”

“Well, maybe I do.” Wang Yang stared at a twinkling star in the sky and furrowed his brow slightly, musing, “Do you think there could be aliens who feel that Earth’s animals are all oppressed by humans, as cruel as it is for Iraq’s Kurds? So they want to come and take over this planet, overthrow human governments, and help the animals build a free and democratic Earth.”

Natalie was taken aback for a moment, then found the idea quite intriguing. Who would govern then? Pigs? Cows? Animals have long held grudges against humans… She laughed, “Wow, you do think of a lot. It isn’t the Shrimp People coming back in three years, is it? This theme gives me a terrifying feeling, but if it really happened, you should be worried about yourself; you’re a meat-eater. I don’t eat meat—animals like me.”

“One thing at a time; I’ve got too many questions now. I’ll save the others and not tell you.” Wang Yang laughed as he walked back into the room, saying, “Get some rest early. I’m going to sleep. We’ll resume shooting officially tomorrow! Another day wasted, there are only a few days left. Well, bye!” Just as he ended the call, a new incoming call followed immediately. Wang Yang saw it was from Mark Alba and answered, “Hi, Mark?”

He stood still to listen to the phone for a while, chuckling, “Really, that’s what I think. No, I think you’re missing something.” He walked into the large bedroom, looking for Jessica’s figure, while saying into the phone, “Do the Iraqi people really welcome the coalition forces? And do the soldiers of the coalition have anti-war sentiments? Once the situation gets tough, I think a lot of people won’t want to move…”

As the night sky grew darker, and the clock reached the time for sleep and rest.

In the spacious bedroom, Wang Yang watched Jessica, with her hair cascading next to the pillow, and said, “Oh, by the way, your dad called and gave me an earful.” Jessica looked puzzled and asked, “Why?” Wang Yang stroked her shoulder and replied, “He claimed the Iraq war would be over in half a month if it really started, but I argued for one month, and in the end, he was persuaded by me.”

“Hmm.” Jessica blinked her eyes, feeling a bit ticklish as he stroked her neck. She snuggled closer to him, her voice soft, “Yang, I know you got all worked up because of me, thanks. But I won’t allow you to do that again!”

Wang Yang turned and kissed her forehead, laughing, “You’re too full of yourself. I wanted to scold George Bush on my own; it had nothing to do with you.” Jessica smiled and nodded, then frowned slightly, “I really hate war, it’s so annoying. Can we not talk about it anymore?”

“`

“OK! Let’s talk about something cheerful,” Wang Yang, unwilling to dwell on the war any longer after pondering it for the last couple of days, laughed and said, “How’s your acting been coming along these days? There’s something I haven’t told you yet, da-ding da-ding! I’ve invited Meryl Streep to play Miranda. She’s read the novel and is quite interested in the character. Baby, there’s an eight or nine out of ten chance Meryl will agree.”

“NO-WAY!” Jessica’s eyes widened as she propped herself up on him, her chin pressing down on his chest in surprise, “Is this for real? Oh my God! I get to act opposite her? Oh my God, I’ll be so nervous, how can this be…”

“It has to be! Jessie, this time I’m going to be very strict with you,” Wang Yang said seriously, looking into her dark eyes, “Since you’ve become the lead actress, you must do your utmost to perform well in the film. No matter the difficulty, we will find a way to overcome it, understand?” After scolding Joshua, Wang Yang had raised his expectations for Jessica by a notch; previously, it was enough for her to get by, but now he expected her to perform very well.

Feeling the pressure but also filled with anticipation, Jessica wanted to hear those “GOODs” one after another. She nodded vigorously, “I understand!”

“Then stop pressing against me,” Wang Yang laughed, playfully smacking her raised buttocks, making a “pop” sound, and said with a smile, “I’m not in the mood right now, let’s sleep.” Jessica rolled her eyes, turned to settle comfortably beside him, closing her eyes softly whispering, “Goodnight.” Wang Yang replied, “Goodnight.”

The dimly lit bedroom fell silent as both of them gradually drifted into a hazy sleep. How long it had been, they did not know, when the bizarre dreams began to unfold.

In the clear blue sky, all kinds of spaceships hovered, with various high-rise buildings below. The hatch of a small spaceship was open, and Wang Yang had a large cigar clenched in his mouth, standing at the doorway. He held a heavy machine gun in his hands, and amidst the rattling sound, a fiery dragon spewed from the muzzle as bullets poured out wildly. He was firing at other spaceships while roaring, “Aah aah aah aah—”

Suddenly, a large bullet whizzed through the air, striking him in the shoulder and passing through him completely.

“Ah!” Wang Yang bit down so hard on his cigar it almost broke, his body rigidly continuing to fire, “Aah aah—” At that moment, a tall girl in blue denim urgently shouted next to him, “Captain, you’re wounded!” Wang Yang didn’t even glance at her, tossed the now empty gun aside, picked up another one, and shouted, “Don’t bloody bother me! Get lost, FUUUCKKKKKK—”

Boom boom boom boom, a spaceship exploded abruptly, turning the area ahead into a fog. Wang Yang excitedly clenched his fist and roared, but before he could celebrate, a missile flew out of the fog. Biting down on the cigar, he quickly grabbed the girl next to him and leaped, boom…

“Huff huff!…”

Wang Yang suddenly opened his eyes to the familiar ceiling. He glanced around and saw Jessica sleeping soundly beside him, her pretty face peaceful and serene. He was silent for a few seconds, then let out a light chuckle—Captain? Interesting! What dream is she having?

Savoring the feeling from the dream for a while, he carefully removed her hand draped over him, sat up, moved to the edge of the bed, and started scribbling on the notepad from the nightstand.

For a director, dreams are an important source for inspiration and ideas, so his nightstand always had a notebook and a pen. Many elements might not be immediately usable or ever used, but as his mentor had said, a director can only develop and grow with time by forming the habit of continually recording, feeling, and thinking, whether it be from dreams, life, reading, or any source.

After recording everything, Wang Yang put the notepad and pen back and was about to lie down again when he inadvertently caught sight of a small light drifting past the balcony. UFO? He couldn’t help but be surprised as he got out of bed and quickly walked barefoot to the balcony, the cool night breeze gently blowing against him, and he could see clearly what the light was. He chuckled and muttered, “Fireflies… Are there fireflies at this time of year?”

He saw the firefly, flickering with light, soaring freely across the dark sky.

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PS: Great news! The subscription for a single chapter of this book has topped ten thousand, wow, thank you all for your support! Let’s reach new heights! Wow, I’m not sure of the few books in the same category that have achieved what we have, but we should be proud of it! Throw your recommendation votes, let’s celebrate, thank you!