The Free Radical

by The Anarchist

Jeanie had been granting wishes for… well, ever, it seemed. For ages and ages she’d doled out the heart desires of deserving patrons in neat little packets of three. Why always three? Tradition. Beyond that, Jeanie didn’t know. People expected it– once they got past the initial skepticism of wishes being real at all.

And how was deservability awarded? In the old days, it had simply been a matter of rubbing the lamp which Jeanie had called home and… voila. But Jeanie had fled the turmoil in the Middle East long ago and had subsequently ditched the lamp. People just weren’t interested in oil lamps in the West anymore, and Jeanie got easily bored waiting between rubs anyway.

So now it was just the rubbing that did the trick; no lamps involved. Being a magical creature and all, Jeanie was generally considered to be quite attractive. There were many– men and women alike– who wanted nothing more than to ‘give Jeanie a rub.’ Those who rubbed Jeanie the wrong way… well, they were just politely asked to move along. But those who got the rub just right– in a multiple-orgasm kind-of-way– were reciprocated with the proverbial three wishes.

“You’re kidding, right?” panted Sam breathlessly. “Three wishes? Really?” He was still caught in the inertia of the aforementioned initial skepticism. Jeanie nodded in what must have been a very convincing and sincere way as Sam exclaimed “Awesome!”

Sam was very unlike the others, noted Jeanie after they got dressed. He wasn’t nearly as impulsive or wishy-washy with his deliberations. He was careful and methodical– after the inevitable inquiry about being able to wish for more wishes. No, for the last time people, you can’t wish for more wishes. It’s practically the only rule of wishery– that, and the stipulation that you can’t wish for things that would require permanent alterations to the basic laws of physics. But other than that… the field was pretty much wide open.

“Even if my wish is really complicated?” asked Sam. Jeanie answered the question with a dismissive wave of her hand. Whatever. This is magic. Go for it.

“Okay…” began Sam, digging his mental fingers into the strange wish unfolding in his mind. He was searching for the best way to unpack the complexity of what really should have been a simple thing– something that should have been the way of things already long ago… in a common-sense world. “Okay, I wish that all of the governments in the world who are operating as publicly declared democracies would have absolutely transparent fiscal accounting.”

Jeanie looked at Sam like he might’ve just stepped out of a polka-dotted spaceship. This was certainly not the usual shiny new car, sprawling mansion, or even the fanciest thingamajig with full accessory kit and the expandable attachment. “And how exactly would that look?” asked Jeanie genuinely puzzled.

“Well,” explained Sam, “it would have to be online, on the internet. Every government already has a website, so that should make it easy.” He was still trying to sell it to Jeanie… or maybe just to himself. “It should be a straightforward accounting of all the money coming into government coffers on the one hand. You know, from things like income tax, sales tax, licenses, registrations, fees and such. And on the other hand there would be a full transparent accounting of where all the funds are being allocated. They wouldn’t have to disclose an itemized list for things having to do with national security though. They could just give a lump sum figure going to various secret projects without having to reveal exactly what those projects were… but at least we’d know how much… and how it relates to everything else… proportionally… you know.”

Jeanie closed her eyes and began rubbing her temples. When she finally let go of a big sigh, Sam realized that this was not yet the procedure for wish-fulfillment. He continued to unpack and unfold the wish to make it more plain to the magical creature before him. “There would have to be some explication of the number of businesses forwarding sales tax and an annual resultant sum. Or for income tax, for instance, there would likewise have to be given the number of citizens paying income tax, the number of citizens receiving refunds, and the total amount of revenue generated as a net aggregate. And of course the amount received should ultimately balance with the amount being allocated to all governmental programs and expenses…”

Jeanie held up a hand and sighed again. “I get it,” she said. “You weren’t kidding about the complicated thing, were you?” The question was rhetorical.

“So can you do it?” asked Sam

Jeanie, like any self-respecting genie, was well practiced in giving looks of utter condescension. The sudden fierceness in her eyes said unmistakably “Fuck yeah.”

Cars and houses and bright shiny baubles were instantaneous things. Jeanie could make those materialize without so much as a grunt. Sam’s request, however, required considerably more groundwork. Ideas needed to be seeded in the right minds… and certain blockages needed to be removed from other minds. But the idea was actually pretty sound, and truth be told, Jeanie was glad for the challenge and the change of pace.

A moment later she said “It’s done.” Sam walked immediately over to the computer on his desk as though he wanted to check straight away, but Jeanie explained further. “A complex wish like this takes time to actually manifest– fully, but rest assured that it will happen. And for your second wish…?”

Sam hummed and hawed without actually knowing what the heck hawing was. “I’d rather see how this one turns out before I get to my second wish… if you don’t mind.”

Jeanie found that to be mildly insulting but relented since Sam was really exceptionally good at rubbing her just the right way. She was in no real hurry to move on.

Within a few short weeks it was becoming quite clear to Sam that his wish was unfolding exactly as he had foreseen. Governments the world over– whether small local municipalities or mammoth federations– were suddenly committed to making all of their financial maneuvers perfectly transparent. It was like it became a competition among them– who could be the most transparent. The public was finally able to see in simple stark terms how public monies were being spent. Everyone wondered how no one had thought of such a common sense thing before, but then shrugged and accepted that it was indeed a welcome improvement to the former fiscal shenanigans shrouded in secrecy.

“I’m ready for my second wish,” said Sam one day thereafter. Jeanie squinted her eyes in consternation– the kind of tight squint that would allow her to be blindfolded with a piece of dental floss if need be. It was a look which clearly said “Now what?”

“It’s complicated,” warned Sam again. Jeanie sighed… and then Sam sighed before continuing. “I get so frustrated with all of the lying,” he began, “in politics mostly.” Now Jeanie opened her eyes wide and gave them a good roll. “It’s supposed to be the job of the press to keep the fuckers honest, but journalism is hardly anything more than the propaganda wing of the government these days. ‘According to anonymous intelligence sources…’ anything can follow that statement, and it can’t possibly be verified.”


“And what would you suggest might remedy the situation?”

“There has to be some standard for truth in journalism. Everybody gets the news from a million different sources these days, and many of those sources report wildly differing facts, theories and angles. Clearly, they’re not all correct. Some of them… many of them… perhaps all of them… are lying. And what really drives me nuts is when a particular news outlet reports the supposed facts of a breaking story one day and then the very next day many– or even all of the facts– have changed, and there’s absolutely no accounting for the change. They never go back and say ‘Sorry we got this wrong… or, we were misinformed.’ They just change the narrative of what happened as though we’re not even supposed to notice. Drives me nuts!”

“Sam, what’s your wish?”

“I wish there was a global accreditation body holding all journalists and news outlets accountable for what they report. They could rank all of the press outlets from the largest international conglomerates to the tiniest independent bloggers according to how truthful their reporting is. And they would have criminal prosecutory power to lay charges for the most egregious violations. I mean, nations go to war– or not– according to what’s reported in the press. It shouldn’t be that so-called journalists can just fabricate whatever the fuck they want– or what their governments want– in order to sway public opinion. If a journalist is caught in a lie, there has to be serious consequences. The state of journalism today is a total joke as it is!”

Jeanie was beginning to admire Sam. It wasn’t often that wishes needed to be discussed at length. It was fun and interesting for Jeanie. A few concerns came immediately to mind though.

“Who determines the truth of a breaking story? Can’t the accreditation body be bought off by the wealthiest players? And how culpable is a journalist who’s been given false information but accurately reports the lie?”

“The truth eventually wins out,” answered Sam. “The rankings are fluid and dynamic, changing daily as the truth becomes known over time. Whoever’s reporting the truth will be vindicated eventually… and will rise to the top of the list. And the accreditation body has to be absolutely transparent. It has to be clear to everybody why one news agency ranks higher than another… according to a publicly visible record, and it all has to be based on the known truth. The wealthiest players can’t buy a position at the top if there’s no clear justification for such a ranking. And finally, if a journalist is careful to only report that certain facts are presented according to specific sources– and those facts later prove to be untrue– the sources can be held criminally responsible– if it can be shown that they were knowingly providing false information– but not the journalist who was just honestly reporting what was given in good faith.”

“I get the gist of it,” affirmed Jeanie.

Again, ideas needed to be planted in various specific places and some blockages eased, but Jeanie reminded herself that ‘this ain’t no amateur night!’ And the second wish was granted.

It took some months for the international accreditation bureau to become established and functioning, and then it took several months more for the rankings to attain any real significance within the public mind. But suddenly, the public had a tool for digging into the veracity of any world event. They finally had a starting point for asking “Hey, what’s really going on here?” With the power to prosecute liars criminally, the news was still spun like carnival candy floss, but it contained far less outright bullshit. And over time, even integrity returned to journalism. No… seriously.

In the meantime, Jeanie had to ask Sam about his third and final wish. She asked again and again, but Sam always claimed that he couldn’t think of anything more that he wanted. His first two wishes had already changed everything about the state of the world. “And besides,” he smirked, “as long as I don’t use up the third wish, you’ll stay with me.”

“So is that your third wish then?” she asked coyly. “To have me stay with you?”

“No,” said Sam emphatically, “I don’t want you to stay with me because I wish it. I want you to stay with me because you wish it.”

Jeanie looked out through the window like a queen surveilling her realm. And with a nod she answered “We do make a damn good team.”

And the whole world lived happily ever after.