Satan's Gambit

by Conti, Gene;

  I then followed through, “The ‘circuses’ being Dancing with the Fools, Wild Housewives of Wherever, and endless sports on sixteen channels. And in contrast, our ‘plebian masses’ are required to pay hundreds of dollars to attend gladiatorial-like sporting events.”

  Father paid the check, and I insisted on tipping the waitress. He then drove me back to the campus in his little Democrat car. We rode in silence, reflecting on the state of our nation.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ON THE DOLE

  A few days later, I was driving up I-81 pushing the envelope on the speed limit a bit in order to get to my 9 AM class on time. I was lost in thought, pondering the discourse Father Ed and I had the other day at lunch in Nana’s Irish Pub. The fact that I had a very rough day in the Emergency Department (ED) the day before didn’t help.

  If the taxpayer only knew, I thought to myself. All these doctor shows on TV and they are all a bunch of bunk. I’ve spoken with attorneys, firemen, and police officers, and they all echo the same sentiment. Most of what Hollywood portrays on these shows is not reflective of what occurs in the everyday reality in their career fields.

  I remember how I read about studies that have shown that around 70 percent of what comes into the Emergency Department isn’t a real emergency. Seventy-five percent of all ambulance calls are non-emergent. I had challenged my friends, whose only exposure to the ED is what they see on TV, to dial 911 and demand an ambulance for their stubbed toe or insect bite; one will be dispatched for them. “Yeah, but that’ll cost me a mint to be transported for such a ridiculous complaint,” was their reply. “Not for those on the ‘freebie program,’” I had responded. “Someone absorbs the cost of the free medical McDonalds for the entitlement crowd. You’re the fool the government taps to pay for it all.”

  My mind wandered to the story of the EMS crew that came in and told us of the time they were performing CPR in someone’s home. The family roundly criticized them for not handling the compressions the same way some TV show did. And the EKG monitor never goes from a normal sinus rhythm to instantly flat line with that beeeeeep sound. That’s strictly for TV and the movies.

  My thoughts drifted to how the medical system has, in essence, collapsed. When Lyndon Johnson passed Medicaid and Medicare in 1965, it sounded good on the surface. We would be helping the poor was the mantra. I recalled one of our blethers when Father Ed was still teaching at Georgetown.

  “That is not the role of the federal government,” he reminded me drinking some nasty black brew that had to have been percolating for hours. I was having some tea, after just about spitting up the coffee back into my cup.

  “Well, you know how it is Father, the libs will say if the federal government doesn’t help, these people will die out in the cold or the heat, or starve.”

  “I get such a charge at the way Rush Limbaugh mimics them. ‘We must help the chilrun.’ The libs try to box you in by implying that there is only a yes or no scenario to choose from: the federal government or privation,” I spouted, adding some milk and lemon to my tea. “Dr. Michael Savage is right, ‘liberalism is a mental disorder.’”

  “Joe, it’s not the role of the federal government, it’s the province of the states. Our Constitution is clear on this. If one state wants to provide cradle to grave health care and their citizens agree, so be it. Another may want to pass it off to the counties or the townships, that’s their option.”

  “Our founders deliberately itemized what the responsibilities and obligations of the federal government were. Mark Levin has written extensively on the Tenth Amendment. Anything not specifically listed, was automatically relegated to the authority of the states,” Father said before he swallowed more of the offensive beverage.

  I agreed saying, “Our founders realized everything in the hands of the feds would lead to graft and corruption. The feds can print unlimited supplies of money, the states can’t; which is why we are in the mess we’re in to the tune of over $22 trillion in debt.”

  Father recalled President Johnson’s comment on Air Force One, as he confided to two like-minded governors regarding his intentions for the Great Society: “‘I’ll have those n****rs voting Democratic for the next two hundred years,’ Johnson had said.”

  “After four or five generations since Johnson’s ‘War on Poverty’ began in the ’60s, it has destroyed the black family. The 70 percent out-of-wedlock birth rate has spilled over to the white, Hispanic, and even the Asian communities as well. I have observed this first hand in the ED, getting progressively worse.”

  After having another sip of tea, I drew it out further, “The ED has become a microcosm of the lower echelons of our society by and large.”

  As I continued on I-81, I remembered telling Father Ed how the patients who were on the dole would come in with a demanding attitude, “When am I going to been seen? How long is this going to take? I want something to eat.” And I would like to ask them, “And when did you make your appointment for the Emergency Department?”

  I continued with my bellyaching. “We used to call them frequent flyers, but ever since the government required computerized charting, we call them scrollers. Their visits are so numerous that we must scroll the screens to review their records. They have the same complaints. It’s déjà vu ad nauseam. They don’t take their meds and never follow up with their primary care providers. Why should they? They are not held accountable – in any way! When they get sick again, for the umpteenth time, like clockwork they gravitate back to mommy and daddy—the ED, to kiss the boo-boo and re-admit them for the same illnesses. Less than 5 percent of our patients are people we have never seen before.”

  Father Ed took a generous sip of his noxious brew and commented, “In order to control the masses, in exchange for their votes, the government must make those masses dependent, turning them into immature and defenseless children. If you take a wild lion cub and bring it into captivity—feed it, shelter it, protect it from every potential outside harm—once it’s a full grown cat, what happens if you attempt to release it into the wild?”

  “It will die,” I answered forcefully, “Which is what I see in the ED. Poor doesn’t have to equate with ignorant or stupid. My own ancestors sailed from Italy with barely the clothes on their back, but created businesses, worked hard, and thrived.”

  “Same with the Irish,” Father immediately responded.

  “The government,” I said, almost burning my palate with the refill of hot tea the waitress had just poured, “has destroyed much of American society. These people barely know where to wipe. I’ve often instructed the nurses to ignore the fact they are dealing with cronological adults and just concentrate on their words, and the manner in which they speak. You realize you are listening to a spoiled child.”

  The waitress came over again to ask us if we would like to order anything else. It was her way of saying that we weren’t spending much while taking up a lot of time at one of her tables.

  I asked her to bring the check.

  Father finished off his mug, and I noticed a small pile of gross coffee grounds at the bottom. He looked straight at me and remarked, “Do they have welfare programs in North Korea?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Once tyrants have absolute control over a society, they don’t need the people’s votes any longer. When you follow the money, it leads to power and control; and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Absolute power leads to absolute control of the life and death of the citizens you were sworn to protect,” he fumed, practically spitting out each word like it was venom.

  I sensed he was having a bit of a PTSD moment from his time in Vietnam and North Korea.

  The waitress brought the check. I quickly picked it up and placed it back in her hand with a couple of twenties and thanked her profusely. She gave Father and me a beautiful smile and walked off.

  As we are walking out of the Georgetown coffee shop, I remembered, Father turned to me and stressed, “In North Korea they don’t need your vote anymor
e. You are given a choice: work, gulag, or a bullet in your head. Useless eaters are terminated with prejudice.”

  “Is our now secular society headed in that direction?” I questioned.

  “Only God in His infinite wisdom knows the answer to that, laddie boy.”

  My mind snapped back with the ringing of my cell phone. As I fumbled to retrieve it, I understood why the average consumer was willing to sacrifice his freedoms for Blue Tooth convenience. Emily was checking on my progress in getting to the ICC campus. “Hi honey, yes I’m almost there, another five minutes. Thanks for calling me; I’ll call you back after class is over.”

  I gunned “the tank” up a particularly steep incline approaching the campus. Upon reaching ICC, I turned in and drove through the grand distressed brick wall on each side of the road announcing the entrance. Where the old wooden sign had previously stood was now elegant and graceful landscaping. A large, brushed brass plaque with raised, contrasting black lettering stating Immaculate Conception College was on the left wall. A matching plaque on the right wall contained the name of the abbey. As I passed through and drove around the circle, I saw our massive flagpole down the road and observed two flags attached to the halyard line.

  I quickly found a parking spot and eased the tank into it. My eyes were still focused on the flags, but I couldn’t seem to identify the second one. I got out and ran as fast as my old legs would go until I was in the quadrangle looking up.

  The students were walking to and fro from class or on break, seemingly oblivious to the pennants. I stopped one of the students. “What gives,” I asked pointing up to the flags. “I see the American Flag, but what’s that banner below it?”

  “That’s just the World Ecology Flag,” he responded nonchalantly.

  “What’s the significance of that?” I asked adamantly.

  “Oh, it’s to acknowledge Mother Gaia, who birthed the earth and our very existence.”

  “Are you serious?” I asked.

  “The Department of Education approved the statute several months ago. All schools are now supposed to have the World Ecology Flag.”

  I stomped off to class in St. Al’s Science Building, muttering to myself, “I’m running out of time.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  JUDGMENT AT NUREMBERG

  As I entered the room, several of the students were already seated in their usual places. A few others are hanging out, talking with each other. I placed the cussin’ jar in the middle of the lab table and organized my notes, as the rest of the students filed in.

  We got right to it, with Tom, our pre-law/history major, entering the room last as usual, somewhat out of breath. We said the Pledge, as Ali sat in a rigid straight-back posture, silent at his desk.

  “Has anyone seen the old classic movie Judgment at Nuremberg?” scanning the class for a response. The students sort of looked at each other and stared back at me with a “what’s he talking about” expression.

  “Tom?” I directed my question to him specifically.

  Still slightly winded, he replied, “Wasn’t that a trial at the end of World War II against the Nazis for crimes committed against humanity?”

  “Very good, you are absolutely correct. To be more specific the movie revolves around four Nazi judges who used their positions to conduct sterilization and ethnic cleansing for the Third Reich.”

  “On your tablets bring up the IMDb website. There is a short trailer for Judgment at Nuremberg, as well as a script summary. Were these Nazi judges guilty of international crimes—”

  “Or were they simply carrying out their government’s own laws?” Tom finished my sentence.

  “So, Tom, tell me,” I instructed, “I assume what these judges did was legal, since they were only carrying out laws that had been passed by the Reichstag, their Congress.”

  “Yes, of course, but—”

  “You seem to be hesitating, Tom. The Nazis murdered six million Jews and six million non-Jews, legally—correct?”

  With that, Ali waved his arm vigorously. I acknowledged him, before he dislocated his shoulder.

  “The Holocaust is a lie, made up by Jews,” he declared as his face looked like a molten ball of anger.

  The class was completely silent, gaping and staring alternately between Ali and me. Matt however, appeared as though he were going to explode. I discreetly motioned with my hand to try to calm him down.

  Before Ali had a chance to continue with his diatribe, I asked him in a calm voice, “And what about the six million non-Jews?”

  “Huh?” he answered with a deadpanned expression on his face.

  “Ali, just for you, I would like you to YouTube Eisenhower and Patton Visit the Nazi Death Camps, which is a documentary of the Holocaust. At the end of class let me know what you learn.”

  Then without breaking my stride, I said, “Philip, I believe you commented a while back that ‘the facts determine what is right and wrong.’ Well these are the facts in this case; do they tell us what is right and what is wrong?”

  Philip, who was always leaning his chair against the back wall, has all four legs of the desk planted solidly on the floor and his body is inclined slightly forward. He was looking at me trying to make something come out of his mouth, to no avail.

  Nate, our business and computer science major, marshaled up some wisdom he probably remembered from his catechism or confirmation classes as a child. “Just because something is legal, doesn’t necessarily make it moral or ethical.”

  Tom then blurted out, “Yeah, but it was still legal, what the Nazi judges did.”

  “Tom, you could have played the role of the defense attorney, Hans Rolfe, in the movie, since that was his position throughout the trial.”

  “What does the synopsis on IMDb say the prosecuting judge Haywood’s conclusion was?” I asked, projecting the question to the entire class.

  Thad, our journalism/astronomy major, raised his hand deliberately, but slowly. I point my finger recognizing him.

  “These Nazis were intellectually smart men but had systematically denied justice to enemies of the Third Reich. They made decisions that were evil and bad, as generally accepted by the international community of nations.”

  Tom, still persisting, exclaimed, “Yeah, but that was a million years ago, back in 1947. Today, we are more accepting and less judgmental of different lifestyles, and tolerant of diversity.”

  Addressing the entire class, I said, “Tom is correct in that we as a society are more tolerant of diverse behaviors and lifestyles, but does that make it right?”

  “During the French Revolution, amid the age of enlightenment, Robespierre and his cabal decided to eliminate all vestiges of religion from France. The entire society, including its new laws, was to be totally secular and only Robespierre and his cronies, the intellectual elite, were self-deputized to devise those laws,” I exclaimed. I let that sink in, as I watched for any reaction from the students.

  Andy asked, “The average citizen had no say in the making of laws?”

  “Correct.”

  Pete exclaimed, “One teacher of mine told us that during that French Revolution they turned Notre Dame Cathedral into a warehouse and stable.”

  “Correct again.”

  “And they had parades and a Festival of Reason led by scantily clad women into Notre Dame Cathedral,” Maggie said with a sensual smile on her face and a suggestive shake of her neck and shoulders. I let it pass.

  “Right again.”

  “And they tore down statues of the Virgin Mary and replaced them with statues of Lady Liberty, in order to rid themselves of religion and establish a properly enlightened secular constitution,” added Jude with a tone of arrogance and enjoyment regarding what the revelers did.

  “That’s right Jude, but at what price?” I asked.

  Maria, who up to now hadn’t contributed much, decided to speak up. I notice she had been wearing a gold cross around her neck since the first day of class. It was very similar to the one Laura Ing
raham wears, albeit slightly larger. It was thicker and decidedly heavier from the way it tugged on her necklace. The links were stronger. What made it unique was that the crucified body of Christ was recessed into the cross itself. The corpus appeared to be of brushed silver. Never in my life had I beheld a cross with a recessed crucifix before. Clearly, it was a very expensive, but not an ostentatious piece of jewelry.

  Christian and Catholic women usually wore only crosses because crucifixes tended to tear their blouses and sweaters and got tangled up in their clothes. I discreetly inquired about it once. She told me it was a special family heirloom given to her by her grandmother. When something in class upset her, she would always clasp it gently with reverence, evoking to whisper a quick prayer.

  Maria’s hand went up, and I conceded the floor to her. As she spoke, the sunlight coming through our windows reflected off it, which forced me to change my focus to her cross. “The price the French people paid was with their blood during the Reign of Terror. The head of Robespierre was one of the last to roll from the guillotine,” she stated with unwavering force that left a chill in the classroom.

  The silence in the classroom was deafening. Obviously, the lesson was over.

  Ali immediately bolted from the room. I did not try and stop him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  A WORKOUT

  My thoughts focused back on the present. The more delicate fossils needed to be wrapped very gingerly, first with tissue, then with the bubble wrap. For me it had been sheer joy watching as the students faces would light up, and the cogwheels of their minds spun with new understanding as I explained each fossil from a viewpoint they had neither expected nor been exposed to before.

  Suddenly, I almost dropped one, and my thoughts turned to the time when I dropped a twenty-pound dumbbell and it almost landed on my toes.

  ***

  As I walked to the St. Louis IX Sports Complex with my gym bag over my shoulder, I reflected on why Ali had so abruptly left the room at the end of class. Did he discover some unassailable facts regarding the concentration camps that struck a chord against the belief system that the Imams were indoctrinating him into?