We used to be able to get into a room with the enemy, we could look him in the eye. And now the enemy is just floating in the ether. We don’t even know what they’re after.
We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.
It’s a business opportunity: get the FBI to fight our wars against our enemies while they protect us, and we do whatever the f*** we wanna do.