The Great Ark

by T. C. Driver

  The music started first, then a long line of preachers and clergy with more music in between. None of the speakers or preachers spoke for very long. All were so honored to be here, to be able to mention their church or ministry. Of course they thanked everybody on staff for great work, and for making all of this possible (their success). We were all surprised when Lou Goodliar spoke for about five minutes; he spoke about how many services he had done last year and that he didn’t take money and that his back and legs hurt, but God kept him going to save the lost and forgotten people of the world. God was mentioned by a few of the speakers, Jesus was mentioned twice, but the main topic was saving Jerusalem from Islam. The King of England was the first “Big” speaker. I don’t think the old queen would have come. She was still alive but to feeble to rule. Mostly the king was there to introduce the young new head of the European Union. This young German politician came out of nowhere just a few years before, just like Osoma had. This capacity crowd was ready for red meat by this time and the young prime minister started throwing it to them. His name was Baron Frank Zia Von Cuttenberg the III. Only twenty-eight years old. He spoke for forty-five minutes and had the crowd screaming for more. He had been a long time friend of the Arabs, but he was now willing to die to protect Gods Holy Mountain. (Even willing to work together and live side by side with the Jews). No Rabbis spoke that Saturday night but there was one famous Jewish woman singer who had always been anti-war. The `good of the many outweighs the rights of the few` was in her phony over produced popular song.

  Pictures of the Vatican and our Holy Father started being projected on the cliffs and the music got even louder! Smoke music and mirrors told the story. The Dope himself was going to speak next to close the big show called “The Gathering.” Three–D laser holy holograms and color changing combinations of real fireworks all dazzled the crowd. They had amazingly saved some special effects until this very end! The Dopes image was giant size and real time on the cliffs. Our Holy Father took many minutes to make his way through the massive crowds. Most like American Vice President Warner bowed and kissed his ring. Osoma was afraid to come. He wanted to show support and brotherhood to Hamas, Al Qaeda, and the Taliban (but only the non-violent political wings of these groups of course). As the Dope neared his high Podium music was at a fever pitch but some people started pointing. The sea in front center of the mountain had started bubbling and soon rolled into a hard boil. The Dope spoke of God’s Holy Mountain as the center of the world. The International City of Peace! About taking a stand for God! The Dope officially forgave the Jews one more time for the crucifixion of Jesus. Yes, he was saddling up the Cavalry, to Calvary (ha-ha). (I’m sorry God). While the Dope was speaking a large white gold sphere broke the surface of the sea directly below and in front of his podium. The sea boiled so hard that waves splashed against the ships moving them under our feet. Four more huge spheres came out of the water all at once directly under the first top center ball. All of the spheres were of the same size gold yet white and still sometimes clear. These spheres were as the ones in the Holy Tabernacle of the high mountain in South America except these were very massive. The size and proximity of these spheres above us, plus the crushing sound of rushing water paralyzed the crowd. Many thousands fainted, and hundreds fell off the edge of the flight deck into the boiling sea. The last or bottom sphere was at the center under the middle four just like the one on top. All six gold spheres moved together as one slowly headed skyward in front of us. They towered over us. These six balls were, I guessed, larger in mass all together than all nine carriers. They made their way through the center of our circling whirlwind of planes. The sound was so loud! The six spheres were so blinding bright and then (nothing). Total blackness, total silence, fell like a thick blanket. The crowd was startled with fear and was quiet for thirty seconds. You could not see your hand in front of your face, our bones ached. One group of people who were all barefoot, glowed with light, their skin radiated energy. This lasted a few days. The plants in the beer gardens glowed as of with fire for about a day. The power was completely out. Twenty percent of the crowd had passed out. A pitter-patter sound then started in the darkness and then increased. It was raining dead birds and light debris, mostly dead birds. The birds stacked up across the many flight decks and the sea in between. I didn’t know there were that many birds in God’s heaven. All but three planes started up their engines again and managed to stay in the Air. The scared exodus of people that followed was a disaster. People jumped and pushed their way, many got hurt or killed. Joe Coe did not suffer the crowd any type of service, care or first aide. “Get on the ferry and off of my ship,” He ordered. Have a nice day but don’t ever come back.” Power was restored in about ten minutes. Within the hour all of our guests were gone. Dead or alive they were off Joe’s big boat. How many bodies hit the water still alive no one knows? We lost sixty-six crew members. All of them went unceremoniously into the water also, along with anything else on deck! Porta-johns, grandstands, dead birds, live or dead bodies, if it was on deck it went splash! What a mess the sea was. Why is it that environmentalist nut jobs always make the biggest mess and live life as slobs? I did not see the early morning mess still in hanger deck (I slept in). But I did hear all about it. That night before making it to my cabin I met and talked to Marshal “Duck” Moore. “What was that thing we just saw?” I asked Duck, “a trick of some kind?”

  “Was a damn good trick if it was one,” said Duck, not wanting to stop or talk.

  Lou Goodliar, who was also heading to his cabin, shouted, “Yes, I think you said it right Duck, a damn good one!”

  I poured some red wine, prayed, and crawled into bed. Just like many others, I went absent and did not answer my ship phone. Something had sucked all the strength out of me and the rest of the crew the same. The ship was shut down, and most people were just completely worn out. Two student crew members were glowing and just like the other group they had been barefoot (among other things). This young couple caused so much trouble that Joe had the two locked up in Medical for days to observe them. The next days and weeks brought not a word on TV news or press about “The Gathering” but soon a few internet blogs in the Arab world were ablaze with strange reports and pictures. The Great Satan was the theme. Most web sights in the world were completely filtered and controlled. Osoma had passed the Truth, Fairness, and Equality of Standards Act helping web disadvantaged groups such as Palestinians, homosexuals, minority women, Latinos,’ Blacks, Moslems and AIDS patients, gain much needed web presence and radio air time being unfairly taken up my white Christians. He also stopped all the hate speech coming from anti-government extremists and selfish greedy corporations who cared only for their stockholders. The good of the many must be maintained, some men are natural born gifted leaders. These men just like our fathers look out for everybody and must have the power to act quickly to protect us all. Selfish pursuit of profit can no longer be tolerated or allowed, not now with scarce resources staring us in the face. Nancy, a student from Dearborn, Michigan, had to have her parents “Put down” or “mercy murdered” this morning. She was whining about it all over ship; she was going to appeal the medical boards ruling decision but did not because she wanted a journalism career. She could not afford to have an appeal on her record. In journalism she could make such a difference in the world by becoming the face of stopping over-production and greed. Osoma health care computers used Science and Counseling, not Income and Wealth to decide care decisions and not blind faith. She knew her parents’ death was best for the world, but she still loved the old farm. She didn’t even know her family was wealthy. Her parents must have hidden away the money until she left for school thinking to live it up in their old age. She knew the computers were fair and that her parents’ death would let six more people live, and that many of them were poor blind Palestinians with AIDS and without fathers or teeth.

  A group of us sat down at my big round corner booth table at the same time that evening and started talking abou
t “The Gathering.” Three days had passed and we were still in sight of Cyprus. Captain Coe was still in meetings on the Island. The total lack of “mainstream” press coverage or even any strong internet chatter about “The Gathering” was an unbelievable mystery to me. Leo Pugh the older professor I had met in Joe’s office stopped by and explained that nothing spreads faster than a secret. Also, this Gathering had a target audience for its message. This audience was not the vast pool of worldwide, brainwashed, government-educated, drone serfs. No, these could be brought in at anytime. Now was still too soon for the masses, the idiot sheep who still watched TV news, wrestling, game shows, soap operas and American Idol. In short, all of the “dead above the neck,” and “give me” Osoma voters. Many of the target audience had been in attendance. The leaders and “wanna be” leaders just below the “Somebody’s” of this world. These leaders (both East and West) are the only ones who really matter anyway. In the Islamic culture the hapless pawns will be ready as will the noble Knights and the rest of the players when the final crusade does come. The leaders of Persia, Damascus, Turkey, all the “Stands” Cutter, the Saudi Royal Family, and Egypt, these types were the real target of “The Gathering” and mission accomplished was declared by the West.

  The last crusade did not start with this Gathering but the push of the South will soon come. The king of the North will ride into the glorious land to protect it. The time of this age or season is drawing to a close. Jesus explained that we will not know the day or the hour but that we can know the season. “These times they are a changing”

  “I thought Bob Dylan said that” spoke up Duck!

  “Yes, Duck, you’re right I just threw that in for old hippies like you and Cornelius to see if you were awake” said Pugh as he cleaned his glasses.

  “Real funny Pugh, real funny” I spoke up, while still finishing up my corn bread and pinto beans.

  Leo Pugh does an old AM and shortwave radio show that is broadcasted from the ship, working from his home by satellite. He is retired now and comes on ship about a one month a year. Mostly he’s home taking care of his lovely wife Shirley Temple Pugh!

  “Pugh, I wonder if I’ve ever bombed any of your listeners while you were still talking to them” (ha-ha)?

  “Would be just like you, Cornelius,” Pugh answered.

  I thought about my own words about a bomb in one hand and a Bible in the other, the word Christ on my hat, the disciples in the mirror, the ability to deceive in water. I paused then spoke up again!

  “Where is the true Church?” I asked Pugh. “Why does God still use the Dope if he’s just going to cause another bloody crusade? Why did he build up the nation of Islam, this strange one of 167th old false God of Ali?”

  “He didn’t fire Judas before the fact did he?” said Leo. “No, Jesus did not give up on Peter, and he still uses you Cornelius. The Gifts of God come before repentance! I hear you are Holiness! That’s not the man I used to know! The gifts of god are not about you they are all about him. Jesus could use anybody.”

  “Leo Pugh and the others waited for my response. I hung my head in silence and in shame! Then I prayed to be allowed to work for the Lord for all the days of my life.”

  End of Chapter

  Chapter Thirteen: Becka Comes to Bermuda

  The next morning the Great Ark was still in the Mediterranean Sea but now fast under way making at least ten knots to the west. I stood outside my cabin, on a high deck railing, looking out over the sea. There was no sign of all the stuff and “stiffs” we had dumped overboard. The flight deck was still shut down but not for long. Our older model B44s never did come back to the ship, but most of their pilots did. Those planes were sold to some country or some body. I skipped that mornings’ flight briefing (just to piss Friday off). We are still shut down Friday “give it a rest” I was busy breathing in the sights and smells of the sea. Always good for an old sailors soul and spirit!

  I heard Johnny Cash singing “Ring of Fire” up ahead of us from the sea below. Johnny was getting closer and louder. A crowd had formed on the edge of the flight deck watching something below and cheering. There was a flame, and then Johnny Cash sang again. The Great Ark was slowly catching up to, and passing, the most beautiful sailboat yacht I’d ever seen. One with great lines, yes, as of a woman. The music played once again and was coming in very loud now. The trumpets sounded fantastic. I cheered along with the crowd. It was Seaman First Mate Franklin A. Donner pulling along side us. He had four monkeys on swings up in the rigging of his sailboat playing basketball. His monkeys wore white T-shirts, two with red letters named John and Paul, and two in black letters named Ben and Dick. The number six and the word Rome was on the front of each shirt. The four were as playing cards, the four suits in design. At the center flat cabin roof top of Franklins boat was a pyramid laser box stolen from “The Gathering.” Each time the monkeys would score a basket Johnny Cash would sing, the Pig would dance, and the rim would flame up, and a banana would pop out of the squealing pig on the ships bow. The monkeys were quick doing flips and robbing each other of both basketballs and bananas. Franklin and Windy stood together waving. Bo and Don Dave were sitting at a table on deck watching two ladies fish off the stern. Both men were half asleep and wearing large Mexican hats. They were leaning hard on golf clubs with both hands as if to help them sit up straight. At the end of a long rope, hooked to the back of Franklin’s big sailboat was a small lifeboat being pulled behind? The lifeboat was half filled with golf balls and what looked like a very much bruised up Steven Hawkins with a “green” flag, duck taped to his wheelchair. His chair was then handcuffed to a very red and battered Jane Fonda sun bathing behind him. Instead of a small sail this little boat had a large poster of John Lennon dressed like Jesus with bonus points written on top. My friends are a little odd sometimes, they are hard to explain. Sometimes you just don’t know.

  The Ark was slowly cruising to Bermuda, times were again fun loving and easy. We would soon be going to Virginia (at least that’s what the computer navigator said). Praise God! Tell my Patty I’m on the way home. Ship protection patrols started but were often done by drones. We could all use a break after “the Gathering. James Kessler head of the “Boson mates” (or janitors) sometimes called “Bozo” from his hair do, (or lack of hair to do with); stopped by my big corner table. He was complaining that everything was dumped on his crew during and after “The big Gathering” with no help during post cleanup from other departments. He did have a point; we all got the ship ready, and we all pitched in and made the mess. After his venting nobody cared. What is the point, James, just man up and take the hit, because nobody cares. He continued on his way complaining again to each person he saw. He reminded me of Peanut and her complaining. We all know people like this who talk about fairness all the time, the poor thing has been offended in life. Try your best not to be a constant complainer or searcher for fairness because this is all crap. In the end no one cares, or even gives a damn, about your pitiful, stupid problems, even the ones who like or love you.

  That night hundreds of undergraduates from all over Europe joined the Great Ark. Tuition now was eighty-five thousand dollars. It had gone down in price from last years cost of sixty thousand because of the bottomless Osoma dollar. Osoma’s narrow views, slowness of whit, and his burning desire to be accepted by his slum, Ghetto, rapper, thug cronies and his elite academic wanna “bees” had brought shame and disgrace to America. His endless apologies for American greatness, and his illegal pandering to crocked cronies by the billions of dollars was not even hidden from public record. No the U.S. Treasury and white house silver was raided both the same as a no pride low class street thug would do. One of the least qualified American Presidents in history, he was the hidden from view affirmative action nightmare from hell. Hiding his overriding stupidity took a hard working loyal staff and a go team spirit from the press. Some white house guests got so concerned that they presumed he had been the victim of a stroke or heart attack and worried about
the government collapsing. Osoma once got lost on the white house grounds on his way to a beer summit and often did or should have canceled a speech if his teleprompter broke. He was mentally incapable of even high school level debate, without his ear piece.

  This night four of the “New kids” on ship joined my table and all praised Osoma. All four had signed up to “give back” by planting trees for a year. This for the good fight against global warming and to save mankind before it was all too late. It was high time for the anti-professor to shine the light on a repeat lesson of “fighting the forest”.

  “Have any of you students ever flown over or driven across Virginia, West Va. Carolina, Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, or Georgia? I suggest you get in a small plane and fly all day, look around as long as you can afford or stand! Fly anywhere up and down the coast this side of the Mississippi where most Americans live. A vast forest and jungle you will see. Grazing land has been allowed to “go back” to forest because of low farm prices. Many farms of yesteryear have grown back to wilderness again and yes some are now suburbs. The forest is expanding year after year at a steady rate. The truth is Americans have been “fighting the forest” for hundreds of years now and we are losing! The damn forest is over taking us. Now whom do you think planted all those new trees? A bunch of “go green” idiot college kids like you! Hell no! God did! God uses critters, birds, and the wind and guess what? God knows what he’s doing. Have any of you young saps ever owned a piece of property or been responsible for one? (None had) To grow a wilderness or forest all you have to do is just do nothing. All property in Virginia back home grows up at a rate of three to four feet a year. Just like a man’s beard if you “let it go to seed” or without cutting, his beard will soon show. God designed the forest to plant itself. Whatever planting you kids do will not make much difference except to maybe a paper company creating pine thickets. Planting a tree can be a joy, so can watching it grow up, but all that “plant a tree to save the world” crap is bogus. Your yard is a planed deforested garden spot with controlled tree growth and the problem is always too many trees. You don’t have to plant them. Even in big city parks like Central Park in New York City, stopping trees from growing and cutting back, or cutting down trees amounts to most of the work not planting more trees. Workmen spend most of their time killing trees, not planting trees. Too many damn trees, is always the problem for mankind because men do not like the forest. Go out in the woods and look around, see if anybody else is there. Duh, why are you all by yourself? People say they love the forest but they do not like the forest. People never spend much time in the woods; at least not 99.9 percent. How much time out of your life have you spent in the woods and or forest, since you were born? Hell most people won’t walk through tall grass much less a forest thicket. The truth is we are falling behind in fighting the forest ever since we killed off the Indians. The Indians killed off trees much faster than us silly white men. Thousands of men go to work every day just in my home state of Virginia alone all trying to kill and cut back trees. They have even resorted to modern day chemical warfare against the forest and the forest is still overtaking us. Trees are a crop in some places, a very good renewable resource. That is probably who has fooled you into working for nothing. As a forest worker you may not be very skilled or productive so nothing might be a good price for your work. Kishia, please stop this save the world, Captain Planet, nonsense. He is a cartoon just as dumb and silly as Bugs Bunny. You have believed a lie. It’s time now to grow up and get over it. Please don’t base your life on a cartoon. Grow up and answer me please? Is your name really Kishia? Or is this some kind of sick joke? ...... Ok then Kishia it is!