by Conti, Gene;
Her high heels clicking fast, like an archaic typewriter, she screamed as she was rushing toward her cameraman, “You... [blast of an air horn]... jackass, turn off the camera, turn off the camera!”
By now I had almost reached my students, as well.
Pete, speaking to the boys said, “What a potty mouth she has. We should have brought the cussin’ jar with us.” This brought on another paroxysm of laughter.
As I ambled past Kathy, I commented with a smirk on my face, “So, how is it going today with Dietrich?”
She just snarled at me and spewed out her noxious reply, “Damn you, Lucci!”
“That’ll cost her another buck,” Pete nonchalantly stated, as another round of mirth and delirium bounced around the guys again.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
BROTHER FRANCIS
My mind was back in the classroom, still bubble-wrapping specimens, when I decided to take a small break and walk over to the windows. The day was magnificent, the Blue Ridge Mountains crystal clear in the distance after yesterday’s rain; although, I can’t locate where that singing bird is in the poplar tree.
I realized I was looking out of the pane of glass that had been replaced by Brother Francis; the one Maggie hit when she threw the holding rod from the mousetrap at Tom several months ago. I could barely detect the new replacement. As I looked down toward the window ledge, I see the tiny metal rod neatly placed up against the side of the window frame. I wonder why Brother Francis just didn’t throw it away.
I chuckle, as my thoughts wander back to when I bumped into Brother Francis on one of the walkways about two weeks after the Owens-Dietrich calamity at the flagpole. I had been on my way to see Dr. Dorothy Mercurio at the time.
As we approached each other, I waved and he gave me his typical big generous smile. “I noticed that the broken window in my classroom was repaired, and I have a notion as to who the angel was that repaired it,” I said, giving him a big smile in return.
“Well, I needed to come by and water the plants in the room anyway, when I saw the broken window pane. While I was replacing it, I found a small metal bar down between the pots, which perfectly fit the size of the hole in the window. What happened?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” I replied, not wishing further inquiry into the matter.
I shifted gears quickly. “I’m really glad I bumped into you today. I’ve been meaning to get with you. I understand that you have a CDL license to drive the ICC buses.”
“Yes, that’s true. I’ve done it all from MMA fighting to dirt track racing—open-wheel midget to full-bodied stock cars and even the big rigs. And I’ve got the scars and tats to prove it,” he said, rolling up the wide sleeves of his brown tunic to show me.
My eyes bugged out at all the tattoos on both his arms. “How in heaven’s name did you become a monk?”
“My life was going down the fast lane, and in the wrong direction, if you catch my meaning. I had a really bad accident during one of the race events. They told me I’d never walk again.” He gave a heavy sigh, reflecting on this life-changing moment of his.
“I didn’t even know if God existed. But while strapped to that hospital bed, I had a lot of time to think. I made Him a promise that if He got me better and walking again, I would do something positive with my life—and here I am!” he exclaimed, giving me that big smile again. “I’m able to work out and even teach Mixed Martial Arts on the side to the students.”
“That is an incredible story of yours, Brother Francis, truly inspiring and uplifting. You need to share it with others.”
“By the way, where do you plan on going that you need an ICC bus?” he asked.
“Well, I’m planning on taking my class on a trip to a local fossil dig and then to some museums in a few weeks. I was wondering if you would be available to do the driving for us, as we probably will be away for about a week.”
“I thought fossils were only at the Grand Canyon, Montana, and Utah?” Brother Francis asked, voicing some doubt.
“We have fossil beds right here in Virginia and Tennessee, a few hours down the road on I-81.”
“Really, I never knew!” Brother Francis looked really surprised.
“There are fossil graveyards all over the world. There may even be one right under where you are standing.”
Brother Francis looked down at the walkway. “No s**t! Oops.” He quickly blessed himself, as his face immediately became the color of a turnip. “Sorry about that. I sometimes fall back into my old habits. But how do they know where to dig?”
“Wind, rain, and erosion cause the fossils to reveal themselves, and then paleontologists know where to dig.” I answered, ignoring his slipup. “There also are a lot of rock formations along I-81, which reveal evidence for Noah’s Flood, that we will stop to examine along the way.”
“Noah’s Flood? I thought that Genesis story was just a biblical metaphor or possibly only a local event that took place in the Middle East somewhere.” Brother Francis looked at me like a cow staring at a new gate.
“If Noah’s Flood was just a local run-of-the mill rainstorm, why bother spending years building the ark? All the animals could have been outta there in a nanosecond, and Noah and his family could easily have taken their time and walked over the hill to escape God’s warning of the upcoming ‘local’ flood, still years down the road.”
“Doc, are you saying that this really happened? That Noah and the Flood was a real global cataclysm?” he asked like a confused pagan.
“Where do you think all the dead animals and plants that became fossils came from, Brother Francis?”
“I … uh … I thought it took millions of years for something to fossilize,” he stated, still totally confused.
“We have known for decades now that fossilization can occur in a matter of months to a couple of years, at most.”
“Get outta town. Are you for real, Doc?”
“We have discovered fossilized spark plugs, hats, sacks of flour, a petrified ham, and even a severed part of a lower leg with its foot bones still inside a cowboy boot—all fossilized. Those objects didn’t take millions of years to fossilize!” I said as I searched for an image on my tablet:
Photo of cowboy boot with foot bones inside. www.bible.ca Photo credit: Dr. Don Patton
“Wow! This totally blows my mind. I had no idea.”
“Do you know homeowners can now order wood floors for their houses and have the wood custom fossilized—basically transformed into stone—before installation?”
“No … incredible! Wow! If only they could turn coal into diamonds?”
I just stared at Brother Francis with a smirk on my face while nodding my head.
“Are you serious? Diamonds? It takes a lump of coal millions of years to transform into a diamond.”
“No, not millions of years, just a lot of pressure, basically—and in a few days! And you can buy them for your mom or fiancée for half the cost or less. Even a gemologist can’t tell the difference.”
Brother Francis was silent. He was pensively contemplating and analyzing all that he just heard. He started to mumble, “Animals, plants, coal, fossils … so you’re saying that Noah’s Flood was worldwide. I’ve done some biblical calculations and that puts the Deluge roughly about forty-five hundred years ago, is that correct?”
“Yes.” I said, giving his mind a chance to absorb all this new information.
“Where do the dinosaurs fit into this picture; they aren’t in the Bible.”
“I was waiting for you to ask me that question.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
ASK THE ANIMALS
“When was the Bible translated into modern English?” I asked Brother Francis, forcing him to reflect back on his theological studies.
“Probably by Tyndale, in the early sixteenth century. The most popular translation was, and still is, the King James Version, finished in 1611. The Catholic Douay-Rheims was completed about the same time frame … 1609, if my memory ser
ves me correctly. And the word dinosaur doesn’t appear in any of them, to my recollection.”
“And does the word Deoxyribonucleic Acid—DNA—appear in any of those translations, Brother Francis?” I asked the rhetorical question while raising an eyebrow at him.
He looked at me askance and then nodded his head before replying. “DNA was not discovered yet, so the word was not in the Bible. Then neither were dinosaur bones yet discovered. Is that what you are driving at, Doc?”
“The first to coin the word dinosaur, which means ‘terrible lizard,’ was a British naturalist by the name of Sir Richard Owen in 1842. That’s over two hundred years after the English Bible was printed.”
“Richard Owen … hmm. Any relation to Kathy … oh, hers is Owens.” He started to chuckle a bit. “What a circus that was a few weeks ago, huh Doc? The major news networks heavily edited out the carnage for their evening reports, but InfoWars and Newsmax replayed all the juicy tidbits.”
“I’m sorry, are you okay on time, Brother Francis?”
“No problem, I’ve got the afternoon off. The first MMA class I teach at the sports complex doesn’t start until 5:00 PM.”
“Would you mind if I stopped by sometime? I would really like to get back into the martial arts again. I studied Isshin ryu for several years in my youth.”
“Hey, no problem, Doc. Would love to have you workout with us.” Francis was reflective for a moment. “Yeah, Isshin ryu—great combo style for street fighting.”
He wiped his brow with his long tunic sleeve. “Let’s move to a bench in the shade.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I expressed, since we were both standing in the sun and the walkway was heating up.
“So, Doc, are you saying that somewhere in the Bible dinosaurs are mentioned?”
“Multiple times. A number of diverse authors such as Job and Daniel have recorded them.”
“Job? I did an extensive report years ago for one of my seminary classes on the book of Job regarding suffering and wisdom, and never came across any theme related to dinosaurs.”
I took out my tablet and asked Brother Francis, “How many times have you been to a 7-Eleven?”
“Gosh, hundreds of times in my life … so far.”
“Well then, draw for me on my tablet the logo, with the proper colors.”
He picked up the stylus and hesitated. He then looked at me with befuddlement and said, “I can’t.”
“I thought you have been to 7-Eleven innumerable times? You’re not lying to me, are you Brother Francis?”
He looked flustered and turned bright crimson.
“Brother Francis, I was just yanking your chain. It’s a common legal tactic used to discredit crime witnesses. We place in our memory bank only what we deem important and necessary. You were simply not looking for dinosaurs in the book of Job when you wrote your paper.”
“You’re right, Doc; I was focused on Job’s suffering and God’s wisdom.”
“Shall we take a peek into Job using my tablet?”
“I’ve got to see this! Job lived after Noah’s Flood, perhaps around 2000 BC, or four thousand years ago, give or take.” He shook his head. “Job and dinosaurs?”
“Remember, the Bible doesn’t use the word dinosaur; the Israelites used words like behemoth and tannin. Keep in mind that God speaks to Job about a number of animals he created—all of which are real: lions, ravens, goats, deer, donkeys, etcetera. Read Job 40:15–19, please.”
I handed my tablet to Brother Francis and he began to read out loud. “‘Look at Behemoth which I made along with you and which feeds on grass like an ox. What strength he has in his loins, what power in the muscles of his belly! Its tail sways like a cedar; the sinews of its thighs are close-knit. Its bones are tubes of bronze, its limbs like rods of iron. It ranks first among the works of God.’”
He looked up at me and I asked, “Well?”
He looked again at the reading, and then referred to the commentary. “It says in the commentary that behemoth was probably an elephant or a hippopotamus.”
“Brother Francis, is the commentary portion of the Bible inspired?”
“No,” he replied.
“Does an elephant or a hippo have a tail like a massive cedar tree?”
“No, but why would the theologian writing the commentary make such an obvious error?”
“You fell for it; it wasn’t obvious to you, was it? Kinda like the 7-Eleven, huh?”
“You’re right, Doc!” Brother Francis stopped and thought more about it for a moment.
“You know, Doc, when I wrote that paper I remember God telling Job to ‘ask the animals, and they will teach you’. If God is using animals He created as part of his lesson for Job, why would He all of a sudden speak to Job of an animal that was imaginary?”
“Good thinking, Brother Francis. Job would have been confused and discombobulated. Like, ‘hey, Big Guy, run that behemoth thing by me again.’”
We both laughed.
“You know, Doc, I just realized something else. For all those atheists who believe the Bible to be just a book written by a bunch of ancient guys with long beards sitting in the desert making up stories …” He paused for a moment. “How could one of those old prophets write a lesson about suffering, wisdom, and common animals; then throw in an animal that had supposedly died out millions of years ago, when the prophet would never have known dinosaurs existed to begin with anyway … unless, he had really faced one.” His expression was focused and intense. “As you said, dinosaur bones weren’t discovered and named until the 1800s! Or should I say re-discovered!?”
“Why write for a ‘primitive’ audience about an imaginary creature that their readers would not even know what the author was talking about?” I completed Brother Francis’ evaluation.
Brother Francis sat bent over, elbow on his knee, stroking the goatee on his chin. All of a sudden he jumped up and started hopping around like a deranged person, holding his head with both hands, almost screaming, “Oh, oh, oh … I got it, I got it!”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
MYTH AND FAIRYTALES
Brother Francis, still hopping around, rattled on. “Thad’s articles on the Matrix and Dietrich, and the World Ecology Flag … and … and … the Bible … that’s it … I get it!”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, get what? I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Brother Francis was pacing quickly back and forth; his sandals were making a slapping sound on the pathway. A couple of students walked by and stared at this mad monk, with strange looks on their faces. Brother Francis was oblivious to their glaring expressions.
He slowed his pacing a bit and tried to collect his thoughts for me. “Okay, follow me on this, Doc,” he said breathing heavily.
I sat patiently, waiting for him to speak.
“Thad, as you know, has been writing a series of articles on your Matrix course. As I understand it, he is also presenting it in an exposé format, mirroring your class instruction.”
“Okay,” I said, wondering where he was going with his analysis. Brother Francis stopped his pacing and looked at me on the bench. “I believe I speak for many souls, both student and faculty, here on campus who are not happy with this World Ecology flag thing superseding and lauding over our own flag. It is a travesty!”
I listened to him intently.
“However, many, possibly most of us, have bought into this evolution thing to one degree or another. Once you add Mother Gaia into the mix, we are at an impasse as to how to argue against it, since we have been agreeing with this devious monstrous idea for years. I take that back—for over a century! When exactly did Darwin write that satanic-inspired book?”
“It was published at the end of 1859,” I responded.
“I now know clearly why Dietrich, with his Washington connections, was trying to make a fool of you. Boy, did you ever turn the tables on him and that … that … vixen of a newscaster, Owens. Dietrich wants to take you down in the worst way.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine what he has planned next,” I said shaking my head.
“There are many on campus silently rooting for you, Doc, thanks to Thad’s articles.”
“So what was in this latest article that has you all riled up?”
“I have to admit I just skimmed over the last couple of articles. But it’s all starting to gel.”
“How so?”
“The premise for this World Ecology Flag–New World Order sits on the concept of there not being a God and evolution being their ‘proof.’ The God of the Bible, our Designer, has given us the rules of life to follow. Kinda like a designer of one of my race cars. I didn’t have to follow the owner’s manual regarding oil changes and optimum RPM shift points. But if I didn’t, I could blow a rod on my engine. The power brokers are doing their own thing—sound familiar?”
“I’m following you so far, Brother Francis.”
“No God, means the government becomes a substitute lawgiver and enforcer, and then decrees what we need and who should receive it. The problem is that if you remove God as the Creator of our laws, as Thad so succinctly put it, you will wind up with the French Reign of Terror, which is the result of man-made laws without divine biblical guidance, which is just opinions; and you know what an opinion is.”
Chuckling, I smiled at Brother Francis, “Yeah, I’ve already defined ‘opinion’ with a couple of my students.” We both had a short laugh together.
“May I add,” Francis stated, “that our Constitution is … well … was biblically based, contrary to what the revisionist historians would lead you to believe, which is why our Constitution has lasted for over two hundred years. All other country’s constitutions were not biblically based; they have had multiple constitutions, and therefore multiple problems with their governments, and poor economies—relative to ours. Even the great Chinese economy has faltered badly. Thad points to its command economic model, which is just dictatorial, godless top-down communism. In addition, Thad stressed that the first French Constitution was established in 1789, same as ours. But they have been through five constitutions since. ‘So much for the Age of Enlightenment—without God,’ he wrote in one of his articles.”