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Father Anthony J. Fitzgerald, S.J.

Jurisprudential Wizard

A Science Fiction Novel

by Prof. Anthony J. Fejfar, Esq., Coif

(C) Copyright 2004 by Anthony J. Fejfar, Esq., Coif

Member of The United States Supreme Court Bar

This science fiction novel is a work of fiction, not fact, and any relationship or
parallel to any person, place, or thing, factually, is of course purely coincidental.

These thing Good Lord I pray for, Grant me Thy Grace

To Labor For.

Sir Thomas More, Chancellor of England

Chapter 1

August 1985

Well, here I am, on the doorstep of the Jesuit Novitiate, Midwest Province, located in

Lewistown, Minnesota. The Novitiate was a former convent for Benedictine nuns who ran the

grade school next door, but due to declining vocations had folded up shop and left town ten years

earlier. As I crossed the threshold, I knew that I, Anthony Joseph Fitzgerald had now been

transformed into a Jesuit.

The Novitiate was a nice place. As you entered the door in front and went down the front

hall, there was a large living room on the left, and a dining room on the right. The Chapel was to

the immediate right as you enter. The rooms for the Jesuit Novices were upstairs, each about

the size of a dormitory room, with common shower and restrooms on the opposite side of the hall.

I said goodbye to my mom and dad, Jim and Therese Fitzgerald. My mom cried and I

think both my dad and I almost did. I had had a good life up to this point. My dad was a law

professor at the University of Nebraska College of Law in Lancaster, Nebraska, and my mom had

her doctorate in educational psychology and was a consultant for the Lancaster public school

system. I had gone to Creighton, University in Lakota, Nebraska, a Jesuit school, triple

majoring in theology, philosophy, and business.

The state capitol of Nebraska was Lancaster, located in Lincoln, County, while the largest

city was Lakota, located in Douglas, County. A lot of people back east think of Nebraska as

being totally flat, but in the eastern part of the state there are a lot of rolling hills, and even out

west, the sandhills undulate.

I was met at the Novitiate door by Father Novacek, a nice guy. I had seen him around

campus at Creighton. He is, and was, a creative artist, primarily doing sculpture, that is when he

wasn’t out parasailing. Believe it or not, Father Andy Novacek spent a great deal of his time

jumping out of airplanes and then parasailing with those cool parasails which have those hand

held adjustments which allow you to trim your parachute sail and manuever around. They say

that when you land in one of those babies it is just like stepping off a ten inch step rather than a

five foot platform. Novacek kept trying to get me to try it, but I just couldn’t get myself to do it.

I had blown out my right knee during my senior year at Creighton playing a pickup basketball

game at the Coloseum down on Campus and The University of Nebraska.

I don’t know why I went, I mean, to play basketball, that day. It was Good Friday, after

all. Usually I would hang out at home between Noon and 3:00p.m., or my Mom and my sisters

and I would go to Church for Stations of The Cross. I never could quite get Stations of The

Cross, for some reason I wanted to pull out my broadsword and help rescue Jesus, rather than

saying "Crucify Him, Crucify Him." So I compromised, experiencing the tragedy of the situation

but usually keeping my mouth shut, somehow not wanted to be able later to be accused of helping

to cause the Crucifixtion of Jesus by engaging in the crucifixtion chant.

But, as I said, that Friday I missed The Stations because my Sigma, Alpha, Epsilon, pledge

son was home with us to visit for Easter weekend, instead of going to his home in Chicago. Mike

Corgill, my pledge son got me to go down and play basketball with Ralph Anderson, a Creighton

basketball player. We held the court for four games, playing full court pickup, you win, you

keep the court. But, on the fifth game, I got the fast break pass, went in for the winning lay up,

and then got undercut, slamming me into the guy who, totally against court rules, was standing

underneath the basket. The next week I found out, no more anterior cruciate liagment. So, that

was my "crucifixtion," no more basketball for awhile. Doc Simpson, the Creighton team Doctor

did the surgery later that summer, running some facia tendon through with a bone dart, placing the

dart in a notch on the other side of my lower leg, and then hammering the bone dart home with

two nice size steel staples–about the kind you would find when hammer stapling some romex

electrical plastic cable to a floor joist. I guess my knee was my crucifixtion and the four staple

nails in my shin my penuring.

Anyway, back to the Novitiate. After meeting Father Novacek, I next met the Novice

Master, Father Nick Andrev. Andrev was a bear of a man who seemed to be one of those mystics

of the east. He seemed straightforward enough, but there was a lot of depth there, depth that I’m

not sure I quite ever figured out. Father Stan Fitzhugh was also on the staff. He was a law

professor at Lewistown University, a small midwestern private, nonsectarian liberal arts university

located in Lewistown. I think the University had been Episcopalian to begin with, but then had

sort left that affillation. Father Fitzhugh was my mentor in the Novitiate, and Spiritual Director.

I like him a lot. Believe it or not they had brought him in just for me. You see, I had already

been to law school, graduated at the top of my class, with Order of The Coif, and had then

practiced law for two years as a corporate commercial litigator at Bandler and Holmes, a Lakota,

Nebraska, law firm of about 60 attorneys.

The first week in the Novitiate was all introductory stuff, then I sat down with Father

Fitzhugh and shot the breeze a little bit about where I was at. "Well," said Father Stan, with a

triple major there is absolutely no point in you sitting through any of the usual class bullshit, you

would just piss the novice master off." "Why?" I asked with a smile. "God, are you good," said

Father Stan, "of course you would go ‘socratic’ on him and rip out his jungular and make him

look like an idiot in front of the other novices." "Oh," I said, "Is that wrong?" At which point,

Father Stan picked up a cushion from his recliner and threw it at me. I ducked. "Of course its not

wrong," said Father Stan, "its just stupid."

"You know, I’m a Critical Thomist, Father Stan, and for us stupidity is a mortal sin, maybe

the mortal sin, so I really don’t appreciate that." "I understand that Tony, but the point is that

sometime you have to think strategically instead of tactically," said Stan. "Well I understand

that," I said, "But I don’t see how it applies here." "Oh, well, that’s easy enough, you just don’t

understand church politics." "Church politics?" I replied. "Yup, Church politics. You see, most

of us grow up with a fairly naive view of what goes on in the Church. Catholic School kids

figure a lot out, but as a general rule they are so close to what is going on that they don’t really get

it until its too late. Catechism kids, you’re a C.C.D. kid, so you should know this, Catechism

kids tend to over idealize the Church because typically the Church rejects them because they

didn’t go to Catholic Schools in grade school or highschool. Rejected, they must seek their

parent, The Church, often going into religious life, but, sadly, not lasting." said Stan.

"Alright I think I see it, but, what is there to get about church politics?" I asked. "Well, I

could go Zen on you and simply say, "Exactly, what is there to get? Or, I could go to the other

extreme and tell you exactly what it is in terms of doctorines and rules that you are supposed to

get. Finally, I could help you to understand what is really going on, as a Critical Thomist, and

then, you’d really get it" I said. "Remember, Father Fitzpatrick, the one who developed Critical

Thomism, who in turn, studied under Father Lonergan, who developed Critical Realism, tells us

that in order to ‘get it,’ one must integrate both theory and practice, ying and yang, and most of all

context–in this case, the ‘scouting report.’ Now, I know that you typically get a scouting report

on your professors when you take a class, why aren’t you doing it here?" "I don’t know," I said,

"I just thought..." "Exactly," said Stan, "You thought, but you did not check things out.

Remember, just like espionage, the jurisprudential wizard must always be aware of his

surroundings. Use your peripherial vision. Check things out. Look at body language, facial

expressions, seating dynamics, room dynamics, everything."

"Look, let’s pretend that we are starting a new espionage organization called C.I.A.

Counterintlligence. Let’s also pretend that three fourth’s of the people here in the novitiate,

including novices and staff, are K.B.G., that is, The Komitern Battallion Garrison. I am your

cutout and your mentor in counterintel, we don’t have controls, we don’t work that way. Your

first assignment is to check out the novice master Father Andrev, is he K.B.G.? says Stan.

"Oh, all right," replies Tony, "I think that somehow I’ve been doing that all my life." "You

probably have," replies Stan, "but the trick is to be able to do it in relation to an authority figure,

especially a religious authority figure." "Look, you know how to do this stuff, your dad is a law

professor, so you have been trained to think logically, socratically, and inductively. And,

although he has never told you, your dad also had special forces training. We activated the 101st

Airborne in Vietnam and trained them entirely as a special forces unit. A lot of Jesuits

volunteered. We were Critical Thomists, we believed in the just war theory. Jesuit Special

forces in Nam was wild and crazy. We all had abilities and when we got there we started doing

the Zen and Daoist thing, got on the commies bandwidths, and then rock’n’roll," said Stan.

"My dad was at home, how could he have gone to Vietnam?" I asked. "Well, remember

all those summers that your dad stayed home teaching summer school at Ohio State and then

Nebraska?" asked Stan. "Yeah," I said. "Well, in point of fact, your dad spent his summers in

Vietnam as a special forces operative working with me," said Stan. "But my dad isn’t a Jesuit," I

replied. "Well Tony, as a matter of fact your dad is a Jesuit, and a priest. The Provincial

dispensed his chastity vow so he and your mom could get married and have kids, and then put it

back in place again. Not really a new tradition, of course the Jesuits were doing this in

Elizebethan England," said Stan. Additionally, of course, you are a royal, know, on both sides

of the family, the Church does like to keep the bloodlines going.

"This is sort of mind boggling," I said, "I don’t know what to think." "Well, its better

that you know know so that you can work through it in a positive environment," said Stan.

"That’s not going to happen to me?" I asked. "Well," said Stan, that’ something that we’re going

to have to work with, right now I can see it going either way. Regardless, though, Tony, let me

tell you this, First guys like you and I aren’t gay, we’re just jurisprudential wizards, and people

can’t handle that. Second, you can’t trust anyone, not even God, not even yourself, and certainly

not your girlfriend or wife, not really, not absolutely, not unconditionally. If you can absorb and

learn that you’ll do great. That’s Critical Thomism. We follow Christ as The Logos, that is

Reason, and The Apostle, Doubting Thomas. That’s what makes it work."

"I don’t get it, why can’t we trust God? I mean what’s the point?" I replied. "Well, there

are two very good reasons" says Stan, "First, let’s say someone comes up to you and says out

loud, ‘I’m God.’ Would you believe that person unconditionally? No, you wouldn’t. Second,

even if you were sure that the person you were dealing with was God, you simply have to admit

from a practical ordinary point of view that while you can certainly trust God in the Abstract, can

you really trust Him in the Concrete. I mean, the next thing you know you might be inside the

belly of a whale, in China, or who knows, on another planet. So, the Critical Thomist, mea culpa,

takes the rather earthy point of view that we must take everything with a grain of salt, even God."

"Look Father, I don’t mean to be rude, or piss you off, but isn’t this sort of, well,

heretical?" "Oh, sure, Tony for the Petrine Catholics, but not for the Thomists. Remember,

Jacob wrestling with the Angel of God. Well, it may be that Jacob got wounded in the process,

but I still say He won the fight," said Stan. "How?" I asked. "Well, Jacob certainly didn’t get

damned, not criticized, not condemned in any way, and he kept his integrity, I think God respected

Jacob for that. Jacob had the kind of Faith that he was willing to fight with God, when Jacob

thought God was wrong, using his own mind and reason, and in some sense still prevailing."

"Alright, I get it, I’ll keep an eye on Father Andrev for you," I said. "Not for me," replied Father

Stan, "For you, and, to learn."

Chapter 2

Well, once I got onto it Father Andrev was a hard person to keep track of. I was the only

novice with Father Stan as my Mentor and Spiritual Director, everyone else had Father Leon

Andrev. Father Andrev was a mystery to me. He seemed sort of progressive, but then again I

wasn’t sure. He had sort of an authoritarian air about him.

Starting in junior high I had begun reading espionage novels, first Le Carre, then Ludlum,

Follett, and finally, Higgins. It was fun. And you know, somehow I learned to do it, that is

espionage, at least a lot of it, it just never occurred to me to do it in the Novitiate. It’s not that I

ever really followed people around as a kid, at least I don’t think I did, but I did learn to watch my

back. I trained my self to watch for tails in my rearview mirror when I got older and was driving

a car. I tried never to eat in a restaurant with my back to a window or a door. I always made

sure that there was some way out other than the front door.

It’s not that I did this consciously, at least not usually, I did it preconsciosly. Almost on

autoconsciousness. I was especially careful when a group of guys would come up from behind.

It makes me nervous, very nervous. I would usually try to casually shift over to a wall, or turn

around so that I was facing them, or, just drift into the parking lot off the sidewalk. I think it was

about this time that I started getting Quantum Abilities, because, in addition to espionage, I also

was reading Quantum Physics. I read Nick Herbert and Fred Allen Wolfe, and somehow I got it,

Quantum Consciousness. In my internal imagination I was beginning to see probability fields

that I could not see with my own external senses. I could almost feel a group of guys jumping me

from behind, but in my world I shifted over to the side of the sidewalk and they walked right on

by, almost as if they were somehow forced to against their will. Then I started reading about

relaxation meditation and Tai Chi, and it started happening even more. I was doing Quantum Tai

Chi. The Dao was with me. In The Dao and of The Dao. I always thought of the Dao as simply

being Two Persons out of the Three of the Trinity, that is, Holy Spirit (or Substance) and Jesus

(Logos). ordered toward the third Person of the Trinity Abba The Father (Or Being). For me this

was Divine Providence.

What really helped bring it together, of course, was reading science fiction. Piers Anthony

was the best. "Fractal Mode" and "Blue Adept" kept things very interesting. But back to Father

Andrev. I had to be very careful not to appear to be shadowing the Good Father, on the other

hand, I had to keep track. So, I sort of started hanging out in the Novitiate living room to see

what was going on. During the first several weeks, the guys hung around a lot, but then we got

ministry assignments. Either you picked one or Father Andrev picked one for you.

I was just trying to figure out what I would do when Father Stan walked into the living

room where I was reading the New York Times. "Tony," he said, "Have you figured out your

ministry assignment yet?" "No," I replied. "Good, come with me, we’re going over to the law

school." And so we did.

Lewistown University School of Law was an interesting place. The building seemed to

have been built around 1960, and was made of red brick. Father Stan and I went inside, and the

next thing you know we were in the Dean’s office. "Dean Moynihan, this is Father Tony

Fitzgerald, a Jesuit Reader," said Father Fitzhugh. "A Reader, Hugh, I thought only the

Byzantine Catholics were installing Readers," said the Dean. "Well, we play both sides of the

fence," said Father Stan, "Tony here started reading at C.C.D. masses in junior high and then

became an installed Reader in his parish during law practice, on the Roman Catholic side. On the

Byzantine Catholic side, he was a Reader of the Passion during Holy Week in a Byzantine

Catholic Liturgy, so that takes care of the Byzantine side." "Well, is he a priest, or not?" asked

Dean Moynihan. "Yes, you know that the rule on the Byzantine Catholic side is that if you read

at Mass during Holy Week and then concelebrate the Eucharist, then you are an ordained

Byzantine Catholic Priest by that action," said Father Stan. "We got him to stand up behind the

alter with the other Novices during the first week and raise his hand in blessing during the

consecration, and that was that," said Father Stan.

I stood there sort of flabbergasted, not quite taking this all in. Then the Dean

continued,"Well has he taken vows?" "Well, that’s the sticky part, Tony here is a Coif, you know,

I’m not sure Coifs can take vows," said Father Stan. "Oh, there’s a way," said Dean Moynihan.

"Tony, do you want to be a Jesuit?" he asked. "Well, I guess so," I replied, "but I don’t think I

can take an obedience vow." "Well Tony, that’s the right response," said Dean Moyhihan, "but

there is another way." "Alright Tony, down on your knees," said Father Stan.

Suddenly, Father Stan had a Black Handled Buck hunting knife in his hand and it was

being poked into my back. "Down you go," said Dean Moynihan. "Alright, Tony here is the vow.

You have to vow that you will be guided and mentored by the Holy Spirit as a Jesuit. Can you

do that," asked Father Stan. I started crying. I couldn’t figure it out. I wanted to do it but

couldn’t. Suddenly I got another jab of the knife in my back. "Can you do it?" asked Father

Fitzhugh. "Alright, fine," I said, "just do it." "There is nothing for us to do, only you can take

the vow," said Father Fitzhugh. "Fine. I Anthony Joseph Thomas Fitzgerald, lineal descendent

of Warin Fitzgeral, signer of Magna Carta, vow that I am, and will be, and always have been

guided and mentored by the Holy Spirit as a Jesuit, that is a Member of The Society of Jesus.

Rule Nisi, Rule Absolute, Irrevocably, Permanently, and Perpetually, Amen." I said, not quite

knowing where the words were coming from.

"Well, that was a bit of a surprise," said Dean Moynihan. "Yes it was," replied Father

Fitzhugh. "Well, we might as well get it all done," I said, not quite knowing what I was saying

again, "I assert primogeniture and demand anal baptism by the power of The Holy Spirit." Father

Fitzhugh didn’t know what do say. "You’ve got to be kidding," he replied. "No, I’m not," I

replied, "you have put me in this ridiculous situation, so now you have to follow through." In a

trance state, I instructed him, "Father Fitzhugh, as your liege, and under pain of obedience and

pain of perjury, I command you to go immediately to the pharmacy and get me an enema and a

tube of vaseline. Now." "O.K., O.K," replied Father Fitzhugh.

Fitzhugh was back in ten minutes. "Well," I said, "I can see that sooner or later somebody

in this shooting match is going to try to, as the Irish would say, Fock me in the butt, and so we

will avoid that situation through anal baptism. Father Fitzhugh. Give me the enema and the

vaseline." We went into the restroom together. I went up to the sink. Unscrewed the lid of the

enema bottle, dumped it out, and filled it with tap water. Then I put vaseline around the business

end of the bottle. "I bless this water in the Name of The Father, The Son, and the Holy Spirit,

Amen, Offer Jesus through Mary, by the Power of the Holy Spirit and the Holy Ghost," I said.

Then, I said, "I bless this Charism, this Oil, in the Name of The Father, The Son, and the Holy

Spirit, Amen, Offer Jesus through Mary, by the Power of the Holy Spirit and the Holy Ghost.."

Then I went into a stall, pulled down my pants and drawers, stuck the thing up my buttocks, and

squeezed. In it went, and hardly any came out (of me). Then I sat on the toliet for an hour, and a

lot came out.

Father Fitzhugh kept asking me, "Are you done, are you done?" "No," I said, "It will be

awhile." "What’s this all about, Father Fitzgerald?" asked Dean Moynihan. "Oh, it’s a Czech,

Byzantine Catholic thing," I replied, "it opens up your ground chakra immediately below your root

chakra, then, the ground chakra connects with the crown chakra, and there you are, rock’n’roll."

"I’ve never heard of this before," replied Father Fitzhugh. "Oh, its an occult tradition in the

Eastern Church," I said, "I really don’t know how it gets passed on, but when that last knife jab

went in my back, I think that my mind accessed another part of my mind that I usually don’t have

access to with ordinary everyday intelligence."

Somehow we all made it back to the Dean’s Office. "Well, Fitzgerald," said Fitzhugh, " I

brought you here hoping that something would happen, and now this, I don’t know what to do."

"Well," I said, "Something did happen, I got activated, I’ve had a Quantum Breakthrough, I’m

accessing parallel lives and life experience and should be able to Quantum Channel and Quantum

Message pretty soon." "You mean psychic abilities?" asked Dean Moynihan. "No, Quantum

Abilities," I replied. "My crowd is not supposed to use psychic abilities at all. In fact we never

develop them. It may seem that we do, but we don’t. All our communications are at sublight

speed within space-time, ala Einstein, that’s fast enough for us. Those with psychic abilities, so I

am led to believe, use them at a speed equal to or faster than light Very awkward. Our crowd, on

the other hand, at the Foundation of Existence, chose Quantum, sublight abilities so that we could

develop and retain our minds. That’s why we’re Critical Thomists, or some derivative thereof."

"What the Hell are you doing here then?" asked Father Fitzhugh. "Oh, just hanging out,

going with the flow, nothing big, how about you, what are you doing here Father Fitz? "I mean,

why should you even exist, quite frankly?" "Shit, Damn, this wan’t supposed to happen. I don’t

understand this," replied Father Fitzhugh. "I am supposed to get you into my Satanic Cult, ‘God’s

Legion," he continued, "and its not happening." "Well, Fitzhugh, you know what they say, Coifs

never go down. I think you miscalculated." said Dean Moynihan. "Listen Fitz, we’ve got the 30

day Long Retreat to work this thing out, we can talk it through then.” "But you know, come to

think of it, under Satanic Rules, don’t you only have 30 days to acquire a protoge, and after that

you get iced, or is it sliced, that is, in the area of the throat?" I asked. Fitzhugh blanched. He

didn’t know what to say. "How can you know that? he asked. "Well, Father Fitz, I replied, I’ve

been around the block a few times, and when you get to be my age you are affilliated with a fair

number of Wisdom Societies, which are perfectly good and acceptable. We are very close to

being on the same bandwidths, we figure it all out sooner or later," I said.

"You don’t believe me do you?" I asked. "I don’t know what to think," replied the Dean.

Father Fitzhugh, on the other hand, just sort of gaped. Sort of losing it. "Listen, I am N.S.A., that

is, I am an agent of the American National Security Agency, I am also a member of KIAO,

Komitern Intelligence Antiterrorist Organization (that is KGB Counterterrorism Division). I got

recruited in preschool. There is really nothing you can do. I am a jurisprudential wizard like Fitz

here, with perhaps a few more abilities. A am an expert in Neuro-Linguistic Programming both

at a Quantum Mind Level, but also out loud. I am irrevocably programmed for the Ethical

Matrix, which enables me to use lethal force to protect myself. So, there really isn’t a problem, is

there, unless of course either or both of you are K.G. B. Any questions? No, I didn’t think so."

Alright, by this time both of them were in a deep trance state, channeling away on the

psychic bandwidths, one supposes, but failing to find a solution to their problem. Tragic, I

suppose. But the one thing you learn in Wisdom Societies, its this. Since Satanists believe in

"Devil take the Hindmost", you must let them fail, as they are destined to, and, as to them, well,

Devil Take The Hindmost. As the Lore goes, Jesus, gave Judas Iscariot, three opportunities,

with full and knowing omniscience, and full freewill, not to betray Him (Jesus), and Judas chose

to do so anyway. Critical Thomists, wisdom Catholics, know that ontological evil exists, and

they deal with reality accordingly.

Chapter 3

The next morning I got up and laid in bed for a while trying to figure out what to do next.

Obviously, Father Stan must have somehow made his way home to the Novitiate by this time. Do

I go talk to him and pretend as if nothing has happened? Or, do I go right over to the law school

by myself, playing a lone hand, and getting on the faculty. Well, I decided to split the apple down

the middle.

I found Father Stan in the dining room eating breakfast and reading the New York Times.

"Hi, Father Stan," I said, "How’s it going?" I asked. "O.K. Tony, how’s it going with you."

"Well, pretty well, Father," I said. "Say Father," I continued, "most of the guys and Father Andrev

are here, could you make the announcement that I am a validly ordained Byzantine Catholic

Priest? I think it would help."

"I’d like to make an announcement," said Father Stan, "Tony Fitzgerald is a validly

ordained Byzantine Catholic Priest, as of this week, Congratulations Tony." Everyone applauded

and cheered and soon a bowl of Jello was dumped over my head. "Let’s take the day off and

celebrate," said Father Novacek. So we got some good western and espionage videos, and

hauled out a couple of cases of Pilsner Urquell and O’Doul’s beer, cooked some bratwurst for

lunch and got smashed. The fun part was that I brought out my secret recipe. Four parts whiskey

sour mix to one part O’Douls. I don’t know how it works, but this concoction, which I call the

"Sour Smash," sure packs a punch. And so it went.

The next day, I again found Father Stan in the Dining Room eating breakfast. "Father

Stan," I said, "Don’t you think its about time we go over to the law school again?" "Sure, Tony,

that would be great," replied Father Stan, who, quite frankly, seemed to be a little out of it. "Just a

minute," I said, "I need to go up to my room and get something." Up the steps I went, to my

room, opened my footlocker, and took out a "shotgun" paintball gun. I knew you were supposed

to use a real shotgun, but, my faith in the occult did not extend that far.

So, I put the paintball gun under my windbreaker and then Father Stan and I went over to

the law school building of Lewistown University School of Law. Father Stan took the turn

heading us toward the Dean’s office again. "Father, wait a minute, I have a better idea," I said.

So Father Stan stopped, turned around, and came back. "Let’s go to the registrar’s office instead,"

I suggested, "I have a better idea." Now, Father Stan was a little bit confused at this point,

because of course, in theory, I didn’t know what he was up to, or what we were going to do.

Obviously, he was going to get me on as an adjunct professor in the law school, which ordinarily

is the kiss of death if you want a full time job as a tenured professor in a law school. But we

didn’t take that path.

So, into the Law School Registrar’s Office we went, and up to the counter. "Excuse me,

Ms., are you the Registrar of the Law School?" I asked. "Yes, I am," she replied, "my name is

Amy Brewster, can I help you?" "Yes," I said, my name is Anthony Joseph Fitzgerald, I am

claiming primogeniture of my forebearer, Warin Fitzgerald, signator of Magna Carta in 1215,

following the Battle of Runnymeade, I claim Coif Real Absolute and Tenure Real Absolute of

Lewistown University School of Law, of the aforesaid Warin Fitzgerald, as well as of the

University of Nebraska College of Law and Harvard Law School, under which the aforesaid

University of Nebraska College of Law holds, as established by Dean Roscoe Pound."

"Well, you are supposed to have a shotgun when you do this," replied the Registrar.

"I know, I replied, but I think this paintball gun gun will do won’t it," as I raised the paintball gun

from under my windbreaker. Father Stan looked even more confused. "Don’t you think the

paintball gun is enough, or do you want me to paint you?" "All right, you’re in," said Ms.

Brewster. "Great, I said, let’s type up and notarize the appropriate signatures, set an annual

salary, and then set my course schedule." I replied. And so she did. Property I and II my favorite

courses, and a half load to boot, safely ensconced in the Novitiate, a little remodeling of my room,

and things would be grand.

"Uh, Tony," said Stan. "Yes, Stan?" I replied. "Father Stan, remember, Tony,” replied

Stan. "Well, at this point, Stan, I think we’re on an equal playing field aren’t we? I mean, I took

my vows at knife point last night, it is clear that I am a validly ordained Byzantine Catholic Priest,

and, finally, I am tenured Full Professor of Law with you at Lewistown University School of

Law," I said. "Yeah, but," replied Stan. "Sorry, Stan, on top of that I’m a Coif, you clearly are

lower on the totem pole," I said. "But, just to prove it," I continued, "I assert Primogeniture

relative to you and claim you as my vassal. What say you?" "Oh, damnation, fine, you are my

liege,” replied Stan.

"I hate this," he continued, "It is not supposed to work this way. I worked very hard in the

Society of Jesus and the University to get someplace, and I was planning on having you as my

protoge to help get me someplace further, and now this. Damn, Damn, Damn." "Well, it could be

worse Stan," I replied. "All right Father Fitzgerald, how is that?"asked Stan. "Well, first of all, I

replied, "you could be going to Hell in conventional terms for rather obviously being in a Satanic

Cult; The Legion of God, hmmm, never really authorized, I don’t think." "What do you mean?"

replied Stan. "Well, no Papal Bull, no infallible statement, no imprimatur, no nihil obstadt. You

see, they are all set up to fail. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of people get victimized and even killed

in the process, but they never work," I said. "Well, all right what is second of all?” asked Stan.

"Well, Father Stan, as we know the worst possible sin beyond stupidity is boredom. These

Satanic Cults are so predictably boring without going into the obvious point of how stupid they

are," I said.

"What do you mean by boring, exactly, Father Tony?" asked Stan. "Well, Stan, let’s go

for a walk, I just happen to have a nice box of Swisher Sweet Cigars, tipped, of course, and we

can discuss this further," I said. And off we went on our walk, clearly not holding hands. "Now,

Father Stan, its like this,...." I said, as we lit up. "You know, its often stated that idleness is the

Devil’s playground, or something to that effect. I’m not so sure about that, but I know boredom

is. Show me a bored Jesuit, and I’ll show you one who is in trouble," I continued. "We are to

live a life of the mind, of the intellect, and if that is the case, it is painfully obvious that we are not

supposed to be bored. Given this, I suspect that even if God were playing the part of the Devil,

He, or She in the Case of The Holy Spirit of Divine Wisdom, would find evil to be banal and

boring. There is really no creativity there, obviously no love, and clearly no room for self

expression, so what would be the point?" I asked rhetorically. "Well, the point is this," I

continued, "Satanic people all have an insatiable craving for power and control. It is never

ending. More power, more control, more, more, more, mine, mine mine."

"Now," I said, "There are a lot of ways of thinking about this, but it really all comes down

to the same thing." "Let us say, hypothetically, that as a Satanist, you have the power of a Satanic

God, the Demiurge, as the Greeks called him. If, hypothetically you could reach out and acquire,

and then control everything, absolutely and completely, then, Stan, wouldn’t everything just be a

part of you, and, instead of controlling everything, you would hypothetically only be controlling

yourself. But of course, this wouldn’t be the case, would it, because, in fact in order to have self

mastery or self control, what we might call self discipline, you would have been seeking that all of

your existence. It is a little bit hard don’t you think to pull off self discipline and Satanic power

and control at the same time. Doesn’t self discipline involve at least the application of moral

rules, if not ethical reasoning. Stan, what do you think?" I asked. "I think I am going to be sick,"

replied Stan. "Well, it is tough," I replied, "It takes a Reader to figure it out, and, in the end, I

suppose Jesuit Readers do it better than most."

"Alright, fine," said Stan, "but I still don’t know how you understand all this stuff. Is this

access to past lives or something like that?" he asked. "No, I got recruited by the Jesuit Reader’s

program, the Ameican National Security Agency, and KIAO, KGB Komitern Intelligence

Antiterrorist Organization in pre school. I learned to Quantum Channel in my unconscious and

learned to follow my unconscious intuition to help me find, among other things, very good books

to read. I read the History of the Roman Empire in 6 th grade, along with about 600 other books.

I kept busy," I said. I also got Czech and Russian Special Forces Speznae training “just out of

frame” in a slightly different Quantum Universe. I have diplomatic immunity in Ireland and also

am affilliated with British Counter Intelligence MI5 in London as well as the CIA (Central

Intelligence Agency)in Langley, and am a United States Marshal without portfolio with Carte

Blanche. I have a marksman rating with a BAM high powered air rifle and with a Walther P22


Chapter 4

Well, I had exactly one week to prepare for Property I. Not as much as I would like, but

on the other hand, not totally on the fly. Property is an interesting subject. Only a Critical

Thomist can really do it justice. That is because property, at the base, is based on Substance. In

Medeival England title to property was passed in an enfoeffment ceremony in which seisin, or title

was passed through the passing of a clod of dirt with straw in it, which symbolized seisin, but

also, one supposes, at a deeper level, the Substance of the property. That is why real property is

different from tangible personal property. Although both are physical in some sense, real property

has substance in a way tangible personal property does not. Real property, then, in substantial

form, really differs from personal property.

I had to figure out how I would start class on the first day, so I thought I would talk about

three different ways of conceptualizing property. Property as sense experience, the "thing itself,"

which parallels Blackstone’s definition. Property as idea, or concept, which parallels the

Restatement of Property’s definition, which is, that: Property involves the legal realtionship

between persons with respect to some thing, tangible or intangible. Finally, there is property as

substance, which is a metaphysical reflection on property.

Well, enough heady stuff for today, time to check on Father Andrev. I left my office at

the law school and headed for the Novitiate, which was about two blocks away. When I got to

the front door, Leon Andrev was just leaving. "Father Andrev," I said, "How about playing some

raquetball over on campus, if you have time?" "Oh, well, I was just going out for an

appointment," replied Father Andrev. "That’s great," I replied, "It’s nice you can get out and

spend time with friends outside the Novitiate." "I didn’t say I was meeting friends," said Father

Andrev. "Oh, well, what’s going on? I’d be happy to tag along and help out."

Father Andrev was in a quandry, because in fact, although perhaps not immediately

apparent to Tony Fitzgerald, Father Andrev was going to meet his K.G.B. SMERSH cutout, Sister

Joan Parker, a SMERSH K.G.B. nun.

"Well, I’m not sure that would be the best," replied Father Andrev. "Now Father, you

aren’t going to meet a particular friend, are you? I thought we were supposed to go on social

outings with no less than three Jesuits, sometimes five," I said. "Well, that rule is really just for

Novices," replied Andrev. "I guess I’m exempt then, Father, since I’ve already taken vows, and

am ordained, and in full time ministry as a Tenured Law Professor at Lewistown University?" I

asked. "A tenured law professor," exclaimed Andrev, "when did that happen?" "Well, yesterday,

Father Leon, I am teaching Property I and Property II as a full time tenured professor at

Lewistown U," I said. "As Bruce Willis would say in Die Hard, Good Father, ‘Yippie Kyay

Mother Focker,’ I’m in," I said.

"Well, I’m not sure this is such a good thing," replied Father Andrev, "have you cleared

this with the Provincial yet?" he asked. "That’s a great idea, Father Leon, lets talk to the

Provincial together right after our date with your nun friend, or is she married, or is she a he? It’s

so nice as you have told the Novices that we can all work together in community helping one

another. As the Jesuit Aramis, of the Three Musketeers would probably say, ‘All for one and one

for all.’ Or, quoting Mr. Spock from Star Trek, ‘The one must sacrifice for the many and the

many for the one.’ Or as the German Socialist put it in the Communist Manifesto, ‘To each

according to hae need, from each according to hae ability.’"

"Hae. What the hell does ‘hae,’ mean?" asked Father Leon. "Well, Father Leon, hae is

the neuter personal pronoun in the English language," I said. "Well, I’ve never heard of it," said

Father Andrev. "Well, Father, in point of fact, I coined the term when I was at Creighton in

undergraduate school in a paper and was able to get it into Websters Third Collegiate Dictionary,

as a matter of fact," I said. "You can’t just make up a new word," replied Father Andrev.

"Father, Father, why sit here and argue about nomenclatura when we could be out on our date

with sister Joan, presumably learning all about post modernism and critical legal studies. I have

seen her Fall syllabus," I said.

"Listen you son of a bitch," said Father Leon, "what is going on here? How do you know

about sister Joan?" "We haav our veys Father," I laughed. Father Andrev then grabbed me by

the shirt and started to lift me up. I, on the other hand, reached down with my right hand, and

grabbed him by the balls and started to squeeze very hard. He screamed. "Father, a problem," I

asked. "Oh, God that hurts," replied the Good Father. "You know Father, I do practice Quantum

Tai Chi, and I hold a Five Star General’s commission in the Army Air Corp. I did do ROTC to

help make ends meet in college. Guys like me get mil intel and special forces training. No

prob," I said. "You bastard, you don’t have army intel training, I’ve seen your file," he replied.

"Well, Father, you will note that I did take a military history course in highschool, studying

military tactics, and I did take a ROTC marksmanship course at Creighton. For one in the know, I

think that is enough of a tip off, don’t you?" I replied.

"So, Father, let’s get the car and drive over to Sister Joan’s house and talk about

Jurisprudence and then go out and get a nice Italian dinner together at Rafael’s Place. How

about it?" I asked. "Alright," he replied, "but I still don’t like this." "Of course not Father, but

don’t you think the Liberation Theologians were a little to optomistic in taking Jesus off the Cross

right away, I mean could’t we at least leave Him as the Resurrected Jesus, tranfigured

immediately in front of the Cross. We do have our bad days don’t we, and its nice to think that

Jesus still might be willing identify with our suffering just a bit, don’t you think?" I asked. "I

don’t know what you are talking about," replied Father Leon. "Exactly, Father, exactly, so lets get

going and have some reparte and some Italian before the place closes," I said. And off we went.

Although admittedly, I did have to grab the Good Father by the collar and pull him a bit.

Chapter 5

"Well, Sister Joan, tell me about yourself, Harvard Law and say Yale Undergrad?" I asked.

"What’s that’s supposed to mean?" she replied. "Father Leon, perhaps you would care to chime

in at this point? Move us in the right direction," I asked. But The Good Father seemed out of it.

In fact, his French and Onion soup seemed to be dribbling all over his shirt. "Father, are you all

right?" I asked. "Not suffering from cognitive dementia, are you?" I asked. This last question

seemed to jolt Father Leon out of his lethargy, or was it a trance state, I couldn’t be sure. "Father,

what is your favorite channel?" I asked. "A lot of people have different channels that they enjoy,

how about you?" I continued. "Father, is there a problem?" I asked. "Father, is your mind

jammed?" I asked. No response. "Sister, perhaps you could help," I said.

"Leon, wake up dear. Leon, snap out of it," she said. "These B valuers, they have such

problems coping, don’t you think," I asked the Good Sister. "Leon, a B valuer, not a chance, he is

an Alpha Male, absolutely," she replied. "I thought that Alpha Male’s by definition didn’t go

down," I replied. "Anyway," I continued, "Enough of Leon the Lion here, let’s talk about you.

How’s your career going, are you getting someplace?" I asked. Suddenly Sister Joan’s attitude

changed, she seemed to see me in a different light. "Well, I’m not exactly where I want to be at

this point," she said. "It’s a shame that you had to give up acting for legal education, but I guess

we all have to make sacrifices for the cause," I said. "Acting?" she inquired. "Of course," I

replied, "certainly you must have been on the stage before entering the convent, perhaps had

thoughts of going to Hollywood," I asked.

Sister Joan looked at me quizzically. She could not quite tell whether or not I was being

serious, or putting her on. That was of course precisely where I wanted to leave her. Change

gears. "But enough of the obvious, what about the subtle You, where are you intellectually,

spiritually, at this point?" I asked. "What do you mean," she asked. "Well," I replied, law

professoring can be such a stressfull job, I’m sure that somehow you’ve managed to transcend the

mere mundane, and have broadened yourself, haven’t you? Tai Chi, perhaps, Relaxation

Mediation, Music Flow Work, that sort of thing," I said. "Well, I think I’m a little out of the

mainstream on this stuff," she said. "You don’t spend all your time writing articles and meeting

with students, do you?" I asked. Now, what was she going to say at this point? Option A, "No

I’m in a Satan Cult;" Option B, "No, I’m in the K.G.B.;" Option C "No I work for the C.I.A."

Option D, "All of the Above," Option E, "None of the above."

"Well, I spend a lot of time at the homeless shelter and soup kitchen helping others," she

replied. "That’s wonderful," I replied, "I understand that the food is really good down there, very

well spiced. Do you eat there when you work down there?" I asked. She looked confused. The

obvious answer was, "No," but the even more obvious answer was that I was about to try to invite

myself along and see what was going on. All sorts of things can be going on at a soup kitchen and

a homeless shelter, and often you meet the most interesting people there. So, was she telling me

the truth, or not?

"Well, no, not really," she replied. "Oh, really, why not?" I asked, "Is the food lousy?"

(that is, Satanically poisoned?). "Well, no, its pretty good," she replied. "It’s just that I have high

cholesterol problems and I have to really be careful with my diet," she said. "Oh, are you a

vegetarian?" I asked. (Knowing, of course, that most Satanists are vegetarian, that is, except of

course for drinking human blood, first out of blood bags, and then right out of the arteries if they

can get it).

"Yes, I am," she replied. "You know, I just can’t see hurting animals in any way, so I

really don’t eat meat." "That’s very commendable," I replied, "Do you eat Dairy Products,

though?" "No, I try to stay away from Dairy, too much fat and cholesterol," she replied. "I

understand," I replied, "but they do say that skim milk and lowfat yogurt isn’t too much of a

problem, is it?" I said. Sister Joan was stymied. She was getting boxed in. "Well, its really a

matter of principle in the final analysis, don’t you think?" she inquired.

Well, well, well, the Good Sister is either Channeling, or has had Neurolinguistic

Programming training, hmmm, interesting. "That’s really fascinating, Sister, how do these

principles work, exactly, I’ve never quite been able figure them out?" I replied. She looked at me

quizzically. Now, what is Father Tony up to here? Is he trying to pick me up, or is he genuinely

interested, or is something else going on? I’ve got it, change of pace. "You know," Sister Joan

continued, they say the Chianti is very good here, wouldn’t you like some"? she asked. NELPED

again. The Good Sister had been trained, and, it wasn’t just convent training. She may be hiding

the ball, but at least now I know that there is a ball that is being hidden.

"God, I’d love some Chianti, Sister, but I occasionally get severe migraine headaches, so

I’m on trileptal for that, and, you are not supposed to drink alchohol with it," I said. "But if you

would like a bottle that would be great, and I would be happy to have just a sip," I said. “Great, I

get drunk and he stays sober, ever so wonderful, what can I do with that,” she thought. "Vino is

to share, don’t you think, it seems so one sided, almost unethical for me to have the pleasure of

this bottle, while you are just drinking soda," she said. "Yes," I said, "It is tragic, but perhaps we

could revive Father Leon here with a few glasses of vino, and then he could join the reparte," I

said. God, was this a fun evening. A real challenge. Thrust, parry, riposte. It was getting

interesting. But who was doing the thrusting, and who the parrying? I wasn’t sure. Thank God I

had my chastity vow to protect me from being devoured. Self vowed, of course, the best way.

As she sipped her Chianti I could tell she was sizing me up like a steer for the slaughter. I

didn’t like it. Usually I could intuitively figure out what people are up to, but not this time. She

was even batting her eye lids at me in a slow sexy way. Hmmh, what do I do now? I wondered.

Well, somehow, I’ve got to match her valence get a better intuitive feel for what she was thinking.

So, I shifted my mind, and the next thing you know, I was hearing her talk to Father Leon, who

was obviously talking back. The problem, was of course, that neither of their lips were moving,

and I don’t think they were ventriloquists. Jesus, I was internally Quantum Channel Receiveing. I

had been working on it for awhile. But, now I was doing it. I listened carefully, not wanting to

give away the fact that I was overhearing their internal conversation.

["Well, I think that he is K.G.B., and this is a test," said Sister Joan. "I don’t," said Father

Andrev, "he is clearly C.I.A., and we have to ice him before he causes problems." "He is not on

the C.I.A. bandwidths Leon, he is on K.G.B. bandwidths. So, logically, he can’t be C.I.A., it just

doesn’t work," she said. Hmmm, I (Tony) thought, so that’s how it goes. Father Andrev is

faking being stoned , and Sister Joan is trying to acquire me, interesting.]

"Well, Sister, I understand that you are interested in feminist, critical legal studies, and

postmodern jurisprudence, that must keep you quite busy," I said. Shit, she thought, I can’t figure

out what he is thinking, he must have cognitive dementia. Believe it or not, I heard this thought

in my mind. What the Good Sister didn’t know of course, was that I was a Zen Realist, and that

as a result of Zen Meditation, I am able to completely clear my conscious mind of any thoughts

for a long period of time. Now, I also realized that I was able to block out any channeled

thoughts from the minds of others, as well, on a conscious level.

"Well, I try to be eclectic," she replied. "That’s great," I said, "what are you teaching this

Fall?" I said. "Oh, Property I,"she said, "Just one more example of racist, misogynist,

homophobic, sexist, white male class domination," she said. "Gee, that’ great," I said, "you know

at Nebraska, we never quite got that far, Professor Berquist just stuck with the ‘meat and

potatoes.’" "Oh, that is a shame," she said, "I could help you to understand, if you want?" "That

would be wonderful," I replied, "I am basically a Thomist, and some of the po mo stuff just goes

right by me." "Well, at least you’ve got the jargon down, that is a good start," Joan replied.

"Well, listen," I said, "I’ve got to go, I’ll see you around the law school. Maybe we could catch

lunch together some time." "Sure, that would be great," Joan replied. "Sayanara," I said, and off

I went. Back to the Novitiate.

As soon as I was out of the main dining room, I stopped and went to the restroom. Well, I

thought, with these new found abilities, maybe I can Quantum Connect to the air in the room and

hear their voices. I literally prayed to Saint Anthony and the Christ Child, for these abilities, of

course, devoted to The Common Good, The Truly Worthwhile, and The Good as a Critical

Thomist Ideal, and, the next thing you know, I could hear them.

"Well, obviously, he is an idiot," said Sister Joan, "a hayseed from Nebraska who knows

nothing at all. I totally overestimated this situation. I just think that this Father Tony of yours just

wants to sleep with me." "Well, he didn’t seem like he just wanted to sleep when he busted my

balls in the Novitiate this afternoon," replied Father Andrev. "Well, maybe you just hallucinated

the situation a little bit, Leon, dear, it couldn’t have been that bad," she said, as she lit a cigarette.

"Well, in any event, I will cultivate dear Tony at the law school and soon have him wrapped

around my finger. There is no one more vulnerable than a starting tenure track assistant professor

who wants to get tenure. Remember, Leon, no one earns tenure, it is simply a gift of the goddess.

Well, I’ve got to go. Chow, Babe." And off she went. Well, wasn’t that interesting, I thought.

And , off I went before she caught me in the lobby of the restaurant.

Chapter 6

It was only about 11:00 p.m. as I left the restaurant. I stopped by the Quick Mart and

bought a box of Swisher Sweet Cigars, tipped, and a lighter, and went for a walk. As I lit the

cigar and started puffing, I considered the situation. The problem was that I had two, no three,

variables in play, Sister Joan, Father Andrev, and Stan Fitzhugh. Now, I liked Stan a lot, he was a

good guy, and, I could probably learn a lot from him, on the other hand, Stan needed shaping up.

I think that he was a little bit naive about some things.

It was funny, another part of my mind couldn’t believe I started talking to myself

internally in my mind. I could sense this, and said, internally to that part inside, "You don’t get it

do you?" "No," he replied, "I was in the Dean’s Office with Moynihan and Fitzhugh, and the

next minute I was in here in this world on a Beach, in some Island of Bimini in a parallel internal

universe." "Well, that happens," I said, "You don’t really think that you could have handled this

situation do you?" "Well, no," Beach Tony replied, "but..." "Listen, you don’t even remember the

intel and special forces training we got at Creighton do you, spending four hours a night out at

Offut Air Base training?" Spy Tony said. "No, I don’t remember that, not at all," replied Beach

Tony. "Well, good," I replied, "you’re not supposed to. Listen, its better than just being a surface

personality like the K.G.B. programs for its sleeper agents, at least you are a real person with a

soul and a personality of your own."

Internal Beach Tony didn’t know what to think. First of all, he couldn’t get out of the

beach chair he was in, for some reason, secondly, the whole espionage aspect of this thing was a

little much for him. Sure, he had read about it, a lot, but doing it, that seemed a little far fetched.

"Well, I really don’t want to stay on the Beach forever," replied Beach Tony, "are there any

options here?" "Sure," replied Spy Tony, "I could integrate you and switch you back into the

external world, at least part of the time. We have an internal inner council you, know, which

decides on switches. I could get you switched back out. But the problem is that there are

variables in play. “

”Listen, if I, Spy Tony, switched you out and gave you a mind wash and reinserted

reasonable memories, then The Good Father Andrev and The Good Sister Joan would have you,

and, I guess in some sense, me too, for lunch. That doesn’t seem particularly attractive, does it?"

"Well, no," Beach Tony replied. "So, lets compromise, I’ll keep you in a primary personality slot

and try to switch you in as much as possible, to give you some fun, and to get you training. You

usually do the academic stuff anyway," Spy Tony said. "Tell you what, why don’t we have you

switch in and start a Ph. d. program in Cognitive Psychology here at Lewistown University. They

have a good program. The big think is to help out Father Stan as much as possible and at the

same time cultivate Sister Joan, and of course do everything we can to screw up Father Andrev. I

think that would make an interesting program, don’t you?" I said.

"O.K.," said Beach Tony, "but how do we do that?" "Oh, that’s easy, I replied, Imagine

that our Mind is an internal Colt Peacemaker revolver with an indeterminate number of chambers

for cartridges. Since we are Thomists, our mind, that is, Mind, is ultimately who we are. If worse

comes to worse we are simply an immaterial Mind together. Our Mind is interesting, however, in

that we always leave one chamber of the six gun empty, that is what makes us/we/I moderately

disassociative, rather than having multiple personality disorder, which is quite frankly what most

K.G.B. SMERSH agents have, along with schizophrenia. We/I, that is, Father Anthony Joseph

Fitzgerald, have/has complete memory continuity and an integrated personality. We are Tony

Spirit. We may go “out there” some times, but we never lose it, especially since we have been

hardwired for the Immutable Plantonic Forms, and Substantial Form. So, what I can offer you, for

now, is to have a slot, preferrably, an irrevocable slot in the six gun, instead of just being a

peripherial personality. How about it?"

"Well," said Beach Tony, "How much control do I get, I mean, do I get submerged in this

situation?" "Not at all," replied External Tony, "if any one of us gets bored or fragged, we

usually hit the Beach internally for awhile and rest up, or, sometimes, we do a Quantum Shift and

Shift some of us into probabilistically slightly different universes, where each of us has more

room for self expression and creativity. Sometimes we Quantum Shift because we have

preconsciously remote viewed, and see that I/we are about to get shot by a mafia or K.G.B.

SMERSH guy, and then I/we Quantum Shifts so that one of us only dies or is wounded in a

Quantum World of very low probability where our physical body only manifests at a very low

level of probability, that is, a “shade.” It doesn’t hurt too much if you get killed at 3 percent

probability, as opposed to 45 percent probability, and typically, you learn a little something."

"Alright, I’m in," said Beach Tony, "What’s my name?" I asked. "Why," I replied, "none

other than ‘Father Anthony Joseph Fitzgerald, Jurisprudential Wizard, Extroardanaire." "Priest?"

I asked myself. "Priest, vowed Jesuit to the Holy Spirit, and Tenured Full Professor of Law at

Lewistown University School of Law, with a half load, teaching Property, and, with a little luck,

embarking on a Doctoral Program in Cognitive Psychology," I replied. "Sounds good to me," I

said, "but what is this that we are doing now, I mean this internal talking?" "Oh, that, well this is

what is called “internally” dialoging with one’s self. Not hallucinating, certainly not hearing

voices, and very clearly not having psychic or mystic experiences, all of which will land you very

clearly in a psychiatric ward," I said. "Why?" I responded. "Well, you don’t think that all these

Freudian materialist atheistic psychiatrists are apolitical do you? No, they are typically Nazis or

Communists, and believe me they have an agenda. If you break through and they find out that you

are developing abilities, believe me, you end up in a psychiatric ward in a hurry. If you don’t join

their Satanic cult, then believe me, you end up being dead, in a long term psychiatric ward, a

nursing home, or lobotomized. No, when you develop abilities, the first rule is never, never, tell

anyone else, unless of course it is for tactical, strategic, or psychological warfare reasons.

"Well, what happened to us"? I asked myself. "Well, fortunately for us," I responded,

"God exists, and so do Angels, Archangels, and Saints. With respect to our Self, some of us are

Immortal, some multidimensionally immortal, and some Quantum Immortal. We have/are a

continuum which is structured based upon the Rule of Law.

The Jesuits go way back. We are a multidimensional Order. We got on planet here first

as the Druids in Europe and as Siberian Shaman in the East. Some of us even joined Don Juan de

Matus’ group in the Sonoran Desert in Mexico. Once we develop our abilities, we are a lot like

Jedi Knights. A lot of us were Zen Samurai in Japan. God gives all of us choices, especially

those that have locked in and have irrevocably chosen Him. If nothing else, we always exist in

Potency prior to our births and are able to lock in and make certain fundamental choices for the

next life or lives we take.

Jesuits are on Earth, or on other planets, and if we incarnate there, they are ready to and do

help the newborn child, even to the extent of kidnapping or switching the child to get the child

away from Satanic parents. Often it is the case that a Jesuit will chose to be born into a Satanic

family in order to get control of that Satanic system and acquire their abilities. More often, the

child will be born into a traditional Catholic family, and the Jesuits will show up on the doorstep

at age one, two, or three, and request to work with the baby at home, or take hae (we do work with

women too) to a Jesuit Community and help hae to develop abilities, early on. In extraordinary

cases, it is possible to Quantum Shift the child to an older age, and then back down again, in order

to teach shape shifting and mind shifting. Anyway, we, that is, Anthony Joseph Fitzgerzald, got

help early on from the Jesuits and from the National Security Agency and Jack Kennedy who

recruited us. We go after foreign and domestic espionage agents as well as occult entities who are

terrorists, including psychological and psychic warfare, that is , psy ops. You would be surprised

how many Cuban KGB agents are in the Cuban mafia and end up getting into drug smuggling,

satanic cults, or worse. "Well, enough for now, let’s go inside and have a Sour Smash, and hit the

sack." "O.K.," “I” said. And so “we” did.

Chapter 7

Well, I decided there was really no logical way to deal with this situation, precisely

because the people I was dealing with were illogical people. So, I simply went to my intuition and

decided to go Daoist, putting variables in play. Alright, I needed to learn From Stan Fitzhugh,

and obviously, there was a lot he could learn from me. He might be K.G.B. SMERSH, as my

alternate was suggesting, but maybe not. Even if he was, I don’t think that Stan was the sadistic

type. He was too even tempered for that. But, if I was going to spend time helping Stan to

develop, I needed to know where he was at, and, maybe, just maybe, put Stan in play against

Sister Joan. Yeah, that was the solution. I figure out where Stan is coming from and then sick

him on Sister J like a Mongoose after a Cobra. Cobras always seem to be a little overconfident.

So, the next morning I got up, showered and shaved, and went down to the Dining Room.

As usual Stan Fitzhugh was reading his New York Times and eating breakfast. "Hey, Fitz, what’s

up?" I said. Father Fitzhugh looked up at me with a bit of a frown on his face. "Oh, not much

Tony," he said, "how about you?" "Oh, not much," I replied, "Say Stan, do we ever get to cook

around here, I’ve taken a few cooking classes at the Culinary Institute of America, I make a great

low fat Spinach Lasagna." Father Stan looked up, confused. Culinary Institute of America, he

thought, where have I heard that before. "Well, I’m not sure," replied Father Stan. "I enjoyed the

classes a lot," I said, "I do mostly counter cooking, I guess you could call that being a Chef."

At this point I could tell that Father Stan was having problems. He knew that something

was going on, but could not quite figure it out. Suddenly, I could tell that Stan had done a

cognitive switch, eyes up and left, eyes up and right, eyes left, eyes right, pupils contract, pupils

dialate. Yeah, something was going on there. Now, I don’t put as much stock in reading eye

cues as some NLP experts do, but I can usually come up with a pretty good guess as to what is

going on cognitively. "A little cognitive switch there, Father Stan?" I asked. "Well," he replied,

"I’m not sure." Hmmm, I thought, well, he has been either cognitively or cybernetically

programmed by somebody and he sure knows what it means to Cook. So let’s take a risk here.

"You know Father Stan, it’s a joke, The Culinary Institute of America typically stands for

the initials C.I.A., you know, the Central Intelligence Agency," I said, "Get it?" Stan went into a

trance state. Well, he knew what I was talking about someplace, but not here. Hmmm, well the

trick was to get him to think that I worked for some other agency, not the C.I.A., and not the

K.G.B., and then work his mind back and forth, and, have him learn a little bit in the process.

"Father Stan, let’s go for a walk," I said. So, I helped him up, and we went outside and started

down the block.

"Listen Father Stan, I also work for the Catholic Intelligence Organization,that is CIO,

we’re all Vatican II Catholics, mostly in religious life, we all believe in Constitutional Democracy,

The Rule of Law, and Due Process of Law, under Divine Law– separation of Church and State,

Freedom of religion, the whole nine yards, does that make sense?" Father Stan looked at me.

"Well, yeah, I guess so," he said. "Listen, the Church has a real problem right now with

communist, nazi, and mafia infiltration. It’s gotten so bad that the mafia is literally taking a

percentage of Sunday collections for ‘protection’ money from those in some parishes. It’s all

really out of hand. It really can’t go on this way, always already agreed?" I said. "Yeah, I can

see that there is a problem there," said Father Stan.

"Good," I said, "Now, I don’t care who else you work for, why don’t you work for me and

the Catholic Intelligence Agency in addition to any other organizations that you may be working

for?" "O.K.," said Father Stan. "Now, the first thing to remember is what you told me, you

really can’t put absolute trust in any authority, can you? Not even yourself?" I asked. "No," he

responded, "I can see that you can’t." "Great," I said, "we’re making progress." "Now, the second

thing to remember is this: at level one you are a contrary, and at level two you are a contrary

contrary, and at level three you are a contrary, contrary, contrary, wouldn’t you agree?" I asked.

Stan looked at me. "Well, I guess so, what’s a contrary again?" he asked. "Oh, you know," I said,

a Sioux contrary is a brave who does everything bass ackwards. He rides his horse backwards, he

walks backwards, he even eats backwards, somehow. It’s really interesting, don’t you think?" I


"Well, I don’t really think that I get it," said Stan, "I mean, why be a contrary?" "Exactly,"

I replied, going socratic, "what do you think?" "Well, I don’t know," replied Father Stan.

"Alright, then," I said, "I’ll tell you. Most people can be regressed back to infancy through the use

of hypnotism or other related techniques. The Woody Allen movie, where Woody is hypnotized

on stage and then later prompted in the middle of the night to get up and rob jewelry and that sort

of thing, is the paridigmatic example. Now, if you have been cognitively programmed to be a

contrary at level one, you will automatically rebel against any command, hypnotic, or otherwise,

given to you at level one in reacality," I said.

"Alright," said Father Stan, "but what about level two?" "Alright," I replied, "level two,

you are a contrary contrary. Logically, at level two, this means that you are against being a

contrary,... its sort of like a double negative that equals a positive, so that if someone tries to use

the double bind command of ordering you to do the opposite of what the person really wants you

to, then you won’t do it. Or, if someone uses the double bind command of ordering you to do the

opposite of what that person really wants you to do, then, you get jammed cognitively, and won’t

automatically do it. Now, part of the ‘magic’ of the situation, is, that the level two command to be

a contrary contrary is in fact paradoxical, and, paradoxical commands can only really be used by a

person who can think dialectically or trialectically," I said. "Now," I said, "all we have to deal

with now is level three," I continued, "here one is a contrary, contrary, contrary, and this means

that you are trialectically back to being a contrary, but only in a critical reflective way. You are a

doubting Thomas, who thinks critically and reflectively about everything. Got it,?" I asked.

Chapter 8

"Yeah," said Stan, "I think I do get it, I mean it works, people are channeling into my mind

just like they always do, but they can’t force me to do anything. I mean, it really works." "Well,

you’re half way there then," I said. "What is that supposed to mean?" asked Stan. "Well, the

Vatican II paradigm is a participative paradigm, its not as if we get it, and then just sit back and

smell the roses, to the extent that we can find any close by; it just means that you have more

responsibility and are in the fray. As Marx quotes the German Socialists in the Communist

Manifesto, ‘To each according to hae need, from each according to hae ability,’ don’t you think?"

"Yeah, but Matthew Fox says that all we have to do is express our creativity and love each other

and everything will work out alright," replied Father Stan.

"Well, Matthew Fox is an extraordinary author isn’t he Father Stan, but, the problem is

this, what if I came up to you right now... just stand up there (and he did), and I said put up your

dukes (and he blanked out) and then I gave you my left jab in the mouth?” “What then Good

Father?" I asked, as I punched him in the mouth with a left jab. "Father Stan, is there a problem?"

I asked? And so I gave him a left jab again, this time in the chin. This seemed to wake him up a

little bit. "A problem, Father Stan, what could the problem be?" I asked. "You can’t do this to

me," he replied. "Just express yourself creatively and lovingly forgive me, Father Stan, that’s the

ticket," I said. Father Stan was dumbfounded, and a crowd of Novices had gathered to watch.

"Now Father Stan," I said, "there are approximately three options here as to what is going on:

first, I am evil, and a bully, and am doing this to torture you, certainly a possibility; second, I am a

Zen Master and you are being trained, also a possibility; third..."

Well, I didn’t get to number three, because Father Stan, rushed me, put his shoulder

down, and attempted to tackle me into the bookcase at the end of the Novitiate living room.

Well, he got me going, about two feet, and then overdrive, ala Orion, kicked in, and I went on

autoconsiousness. My mind went into hyperdrive and I calculated options outside of space-time.

I shifted back into space-time, then shifted my body weight down and to the right, grabbing The

Good Father by the back of the neck with my left hand, my right hand going to the underside of

his neck to his throat and squeezing, and gently, with both hands guiding The Good Father’s head

into the bookcase, where it hit with a crack.

"Well, Father," I asked, "still believe in love and non-violence?" Father Stan got up off

the floor and shook his head. Then he went at me again. The problem was of course that he

went at me on my right hand side, and, my right knee was my blown out knee. Well, no guts no

glory, I thought, Ad Majorem Deo Glorium. I stepped aside to the left, let him go half way by,

grabbed him by the belt on the back of his pants, and helped him to fly over the couch onto the

coffee table. Thank God it wasn’t glass. Father Fitzhugh got up, and looked me square in the

eye. Then I knew that it wasn’t just personal, we knew each other from someplace else,

multidimensionally. Then, I remembered, we were both claimants for the British throne,

signators of Magna Carta, lineal descendants of William the Conquerer, King William Fitzgerald.

"Well, Fitz," I asked, "had enough?" My nonviolence vow, paradoxically enough

required me to ask this at this point. "You told me you have taken a non-violence vow," said

Father Fitzhugh. "Yes, Good Father, but the problem is, you know, as our Irish cousins would

point out to us, figuring out exactly what ‘non-violence’ means. There is a hermeutic problem

there isn’t there?" I asked. Fitzhugh stared at me. He couldn’t figure it out. "You can’t make

hermeneutic arguments with me, you’re a Thomist," he replied. "No, Father Stan, I’m a Critical

Thomist, as you very well know, and it really isn’t quite the same thing is it?" I said. "I mean, its

not as if we sit around in the evening darning our socks and memorizing the Summa Theologica,

is it?" I said. Stan was unbelievably pissed. But there wasn’t anything he could do. So, he


"Alright, well, what do you mean by non-violence, then?" Stan asked. "Well, Father Stan,

first of all, I am an Old Testament Catholic, we really don’t take the forgiveness thing very

seriously. It would just lead to anarchy wouldn’t it? No, we believe in natural law, or on a good

day, divine law, and of course the Ethical Matrix. Reciprocity, Utility, Proportionality, and

Equity, that’s the ticket, Father Stan," I said. "You see, Father Stan, the Ethical Matrix not only

permits a person to defend oneself, it requires it. I turn the other cheek by allowing everyone,

including myself, to use the Ethical Matrix. It really can’t get much better than that, can it?" I

asked. "I even think Kant would like it," I said, "its very universal." Father Stan didn’t know

what to do. I had switched him out of course. Physical violence often will do that. So now was

the time to get to him.

"Now, Father Stan," I said, "Be sensible, who is it that you really believe in Satan or the

Devil?" I asked. "Beelzebub would like to know," I continued. Stan not only went into a trance

state, his eyes started blinking, and he shook his head like a bull Buffalo. "Father, are you O.K.?"

I asked. "Come on Father Stan, I think a nice brisk shower would help," I said. So I walked

Father Stan upstairs, got a chair from my room, placed him underneath one of the showers in the

bathroom, and turned on the cold water on Father Stan while he was fully clothed, and sat down

out of the way. One of the Novices had followed us up. "Father Fitzgerald?" he asked. "Yes?" I

replied. "How do you know how to do all of this stuff?" he asked. "Oh, I’m an inquisitor, we’re

trained in this. I’m also a Praetorean Legate, that helps," I said. "What’s that?" he asked. "Oh, in

Rome before and after Jesus we had these problems with Satanists. A Praetorean Legate has the

Power of Christ Himself, and the God Caeser, on earth. A Praetorean Legate can even overrule a

Nazi Sturbanfuherer, and believe me, that takes a lot," I said. "Now," I said, "why don’t you go on

down stairs before you get yourself into trouble." I said, as I pushed him out the restroom and

down the stairwell. It is said that the God Caesar and God Yaweh, both aspects of God the

Father, merged in the person of Saint Anthony, the Praetorian Legate, the Caesar in abstensia, the

maternal grandfather of Jesus Christ, and Father of the Virgin Mary the mother of Jesus. An

entire Praetorian Legion stood a death watch over Jesus during His lifetime on earth, ensuring that

He was not harmed in any way until the Passion. Ten thousand Praetorians, along with Saint

Anthony and Jesus male cousins were all crucified the day after Jesus. Saint Anthony ressurected

Himself first, and then the Praetorians, and then the cousins of Jesus. All were given Immortality

and supernatural powers and responsibilities on earth forever. The women were left in the care

of Jesus regarding their Immortality, abilities, and responsibilities.

Fortunately, Father Stan had not woken up when I got back to the restroom, and, no one

else was there. I pulled the chair back to the wall, making sure no one could get behind me, and

then tried to make psychic contact with Father Stan. Hopefully, this would be an easy conversion

to the Society. Ignatius of Loyola had started the Societas Dei, that is the Society of God, as the

Wisdom Society of the Jesuit Order. Unfortunately a copy cat orgaization, The Legion of God

had been started by a Fascist Dictator in Europe in the 1930's, which, whatever was its legitimacy

in the beginning, soon became a full blown Satanic Cult.

"Well, I though to my self, if they have gotten to Father Stan, its pretty bad, and I am going

to need some help. So I Quantum Channeled in my Mind to Dublin and London, making WLAN

Quantum telephone calls in my Mind. That’s the great thing about an Angelic Telephone

operator, She, will connect you where ever you want to go to, and whatever level. I’ve even

placed puts on the Commodities Market in Chicago, using an Angelic Operator. It is not A.T.and

T. for nothing, that is, Angelic Telephone, and Telegraph.

"Operator," I said, internally, "I need Sean O’Reilly and Liam Brown on a conference call

on the landline, please," I said. (You must always say please to an Angelic Operator otherwise

they can very easily get hurt feelings).

"Father, Fitzgerald, I don’t want to mention this, but you know that we are being

encouraged not to involve the I.R.A. (Irish Republican Army) with our missions here on earth,"

she said. "Well, Operator-- Angelina, isn’t it – let me think." "Yes, Father, its me, Angelina,

your Guardian Angel." "Guardian Angel, when did that happen?" I asked. "About the time you

had your Quantum breakthrough Father, your previous Guardian Angel simply wasn’t adapted to

this type of environment," she said. "Oh, O.K.," I said, suddenly remembering that I had never

made a Quatum WLAN phone call before. Ah, well, live and learn. Not from here, this place in


"Well, you know I think we can make an equitable exception in this case, Angelina," I

continued, "and ask Sean and Liam to help out. Their hearts are in the right place, I think," I said.

"Alright, then, I’ll put the call through," said the Angelina. "O’Reilly, Brown," they said

together. "Gentleman, this is Father Anthony Fitzgerald, over in Lewistown, Minnesota, in the

Jesuit Novitiate." "The Jesuits have you this time around, do they Father?" asked O’Reilly, with

bit of a smirk in his voice. "Well, they do, don’t they," I said, "My problem is that I don’t exactly

remember the two of you that well." "Well, we’re both Immortals Father, we always incarnate

with you and try to get something done," said Sean Brown, "you’ve broken through much earlier

than you do sometimes, so I think we’ll do much better." “Yes, and this time I’m N.S.A., KIAO,

and CIO.

"Well, I need some backup here, I think the Jesuits up here are all K.G.B SMERSH, both

the progressives and the conservatives, and I wasn’t expecting that," I said. "Then you’ve forgot

where we were when we Quantum Teleported off the Quantum Grid, Mulidimensionally, Father,

remember, the Enemy was sort of stacking up on us in this time period, mafia, K.G.B., Stasi, Nazi

S.S., SMERSH, SWAZI, Sons of Leviathan, Sons of Judas Iscariot, Daughters of Eve Satanic

Cult, Legion of God, the whole nine yards," he replied.

"Father, I think you are panicking a little bit. When did you break through?" asked Sean.

"Well, only yesterday," said Father Tony. "Well, Father Tony, the thing to remember, is this, just

try to act normal, try never to admit to anyone, especially not a crowd or a court, and certainly not

to a psychiatrist, that you have any extraordinary abilities," said Sean. If they can’t encrypt you,

the will try and sequester you, and if they can’t do that, they will do everything they can to

demoralize you and distract you. You are probably dealing with the SMERSH Section of the

K.G.B. A lot of them are Immortals, some Demons, and all Scizophrenic. Remember, you are

primarily a Quantum Immortal, and you love God, and they will always hate you for that. Having

said that, do you need anyone hit?" asked Sean.

"No," I said, "but remember, Sister Joan Brewster and Father Leon Andrev are very bad

medicine K.G.B. Father Stan Fitzhugh, although probably K.G.B., I think, is redeemable."

"Where is Rome on this, Father Tony," asked Sean Brown. "That I don’t know," I replied.

"Well, if things are as bad as you think they are in America, then I wouldn’t trust anybody in

Rome. The Cuban K.G.B., the East German K.B.G., and the Bosnian K.G.B. Al Queada have

probably got to the General of the Jesuits, maybe even the Pope. A lot of people seem to be very

scared about the coming millenium, in 2000, and this may be playing into the Satanic Cult thing.

The Pope is very authoritarian, so it’s possible that he may have Nazi or Communist sympathies."

"Well, President Grabinger, isn’t exactly a poster child for the middle class either. He is

authoritarian, anti-intellectual, and keeps cutting education programs. He claims to be anti-

communist, but maybe that’s just a cover, maybe he is a communist too," said Liam "O’Reilly.

"Alright, well," I said, "I’m going to put Father Stan here, in play, and see what happens. If you

need me just get me on WLAN with Angelina," I said, "in the meantime, see if you can develop

any contacts in the KIAO or Czech intelligence and see if Moscow, or Beijing, or Rome, are up to

anything." "If you get the chance," I continued, "Put a few variables in play." "We can certainly

do that Father," said Sean Brown. "Alright, good luck, then," I said and hung up the phone in my


Chapter 9

The next thing you know, I heard a ringing in my Mind. "Father Fitzgerald, this is

Angelina, the Operator, you have a WLAN call from your alternate, Professor Fitzgibbon, in an

alternate frame," she said. "Hello," I said, internally. "Hi, this is Professor Tony Fitzgibbon in

Cherokee, West Virginia. I am a Law Professor at Widemount University School of Law in

Cherokee. I just wanted to let you know that you are doing a great job. And, that I am a Law

Professor here in the year 2003, and that although, a lot of variables are in play, we are winning.

The Enemy is in retreat. Keep pushing the envelope. Tell the guys to take risks. Give me a call

through Angelina any time. I’m 48 years old and have a lot of experience under my belt. Well,

take care, Bye," he said. And, that was it.

Chapter 10

I came out of a mild trance after the internal call from Tony Fitzgibbon, and continued to

look across the restroom at Stan Fitzhugh. "Well, here goes," I thought. I concentrated and

directed my Mind in the direction of Father Stan’s head, and then started to unconsciously channel

into it by the Power of the Holy Spirit. We had a linkage. The next thing you know, Father

Stan’s eyes started flickering and he shook his head. He saw me sitting in the chair and yelled,

"You," at me. "Well, yes, it is me," I said, "are you interested in round two?" I asked.

"No, I guess not," he said. "Good," I replied, "you’d probably have the best of me next

time." "Now, the reason I did that was to wake you up in a different way and try to open some

new channels. You, my friend, have been Satanically programmed, probably in early childhood,"

I said. "How can you know that?" Stan asked. "Oh, there are things to look for such as extreme

non-violence and vegetarianism, Adolf Hitler was a vegetarian you know," I said. "Well, what’s

the point?" asked Stan. "Oh, well, the Crowd, let’s call our Satanic friends that from now on,

programs you to hate God, and love evil, and, to disassociate a very irrationally violent part of you

from a very irrationally non-violent part of you, with little left in between. They do things like

placing feces in your mouth and saying, ‘This is what God tastes like,’ so on, and so forth," I


"Well, then there is no hope, then?" asked Father Stan. "There is always Hope, Father

Stan, isn’t that in the Baltimore Catechism, or did you miss that in your educational experience?"

I asked. "I don’t remember," he said. "Well, its in there somewhere," I said, "one of the

theological virtues, I suspect." "Anyway, even in purely psychological terms, you are in good

shape," I said, "you simply need a project to keep your mind occupied while we do a little

supplemental cognitive programming. Believe me, in spite of the worst, Divine Providence is

Smiling on you." "Alright," replied Father Stan. "Now, Good Father, your assignment," I said,

"As you recall, you assigned me to keep an eye on Father Andrev, I have done that, and have

found that his cutout, maybe even his control, is Sister Joan Brewster over at the Lewistown Law

School, whom I’m sure you know." "Her, alright, well, I don’t really know her that well," he

said, "I did observe one of her classes for tenure evaluation, and, I have evaluated her


"Good," I said. "No problem, now, let me call the registrar and see if there is another

section of Property available," I said. "We might as well do this internally, on WLAN, don’t you

think?" I asked. Father Fitzhugh just sort of stared at me. I went internal. "Angie, could you get

me the registrar at the law school at Lewistown on the land line, and Father Stan here, on internal

WLAN, please?" I asked. "Just a minute, Father Tony," she replied. "I’ve got Stan, now," she

said. "Father Stan, do you hear me?" she asked. Stan looked up. I pointed to my head and

nodded. Internally, I could hear Stan say, "Hello." "Yes, Father Stan, this is Angelina, I’m an

Archangel and Father Fitzgerald’s Angelic Telephone Operator, Father Tony is setting up a

WLAN call with him, you, and the registrar. Remember, don’t talk out loud, that is against the

Rules." "Here we go," said Angelina. The internal A.T.T. WLAN telephone began to ring, and

both Father Tony and Father Stan heard a quiet buzzing noise in their heads.

"Hello, Registrar’s Office, this is Amy speaking," she said. "Hello," I said, internally for

me and Father Stan, but out loud on the phone for her, "This is Father Tony Fitzgerald, how are

you doing today?" "Fine, thank you," she said. "Listen," I said, "I’ve got Father Stan Fitzhugh on

the line with me on a conference call, I was wondering if you could get him a section of Property

for this Fall and Spring?" "Property, hmmm, let’s see," she said out loud. Then she Quantum

Channeled, "Say Father is this a WLAN call?" "Yes it is," I Quantum Messaged to her internally.

"Alright, is this on the Favor System, and, if it is, who owes me the favor?" she asked. "Well, its

on the Ethical Matrix Favor System," I Channeled, "Father Stan is my Protege, so lets say that I

owe you a favor, and Stan owes me a favor." "Well, Father Tony, lets say I owe you both a big

favor, because I haven’t been able to get anybody to teach Property because it is a tough class,

and, because for some reason the last two Professor were just Channelers. All of a sudden

everybody wants to Channel and nobody wants to teach out loud Socratic method in the

classroom," she said. "Stan, you can do Socratic out loud in the classroom can’t you?" I asked.

"Well, it’s a new prep for me, I usually teach Contracts, but I think that I could do Socratic out

loud in class," he replied. "Well, it’s a deal then," said Amy, "I’ll put you on the schedule."

"That’s great," I said, "Thanks, take care, bye now." Click.

Chapter 11

"Well, Father Stan, why don’t you go on over to the law school now and track down Sister

Joan Parker, and ask for her advice in teaching Property I," I asked. "O.K.," he said.

"Remember, mums the word regarding all this internal stuff, and, don’t tell anyone that I’ve got

tenure already," I said. "Alright," he said, "No problem." And off The Good Father went.

"Hi, Sister Joan, remember, me I’m Father Stan Fitzhugh," he said. "Well, hello Father,

how nice to see you, how are you doing today?" she asked. "Fine, thanks," Father Stan replied.

"Say, Sister, I thought I’d drop by and ask you about Property books, I’m teaching Property I, this

Fall. Anything you prefer?" he asked. "Well, I like Chused, best," she replied, "from

Georgetown, he take a critical approach." "You know, I’ve seen that book. He does the Indian

cases, doesn’t he, Cherokee Nation v. Georgia, Johnson v. McIntosh, Worcester v. Georgia?"

Father Stan replied. "You know, I don’t do the Indian cases," she replied, "are they interesting?"

"Yeah, I think so," replied Stan, "they show how law, public policy, values, and in this case,

power politics, all interact in Supreme Court decision making. Some people criticize Chief

Justice John Marshall in the Cherokee Nation decision, but, you know, President Andrew Jackson

stated prior to the opinion of the Court that he would not enforce any judgment that would keep

the Cherokee in the southeastern United States, so, I think that puts a little different gloss on the

case, at least for me," he said. "Oh," she said, "I didn’t know." "Oh, its not in the book, as I

recall, I found it in a secondary source when I was doing some research," he said.

"Well," she said, "maybe I’ll have to take a look at that."

"Great," said Stan, "Say, how about some lunch? I’m starved." Joan gave Stan a

quizzical look wondering if she was being picked up or put on. "Sure, that sounds great," she


Lunch was interesting. Sister Joan did not really know that much about anything as far as

I could tell. Also, her physique was a little strange. I mean she was sort of wiry and very thin,

but at the same time obviously non-athletic. I couldn’t quite figure it out. I tried channeling to

Father Tony internally. "Operator, please get me Father Tony Fitzgerald on internal WLAN," I

said. "Well, Father Stan, this is Angelina, I’m happy to help but don’t you think you should get

your own Archangel Operator to help out?" she said. "How do I do that?" he asked her, internally.

"Well, in the old days prayer was the typical method, but I suppose in the New

Vatican II System you could simply ask me for help," she replied. "O.K.," said Father Stan,

internally, do you have any girlfriends who are interested?"

"Well, Father Stan, as you know, in theory all Angels, including Archangels, are neuter,

however, we all have our unique and individual valence, typically either masculine or feminine,"

she said. "Let me see, now," as she went to Partial Omniscience, "ah, I see an available

Archangel, just back from a mission to earth, very clearly your era, I’m connecting with her, she is

interested, she is matching your valence, and, congratulations Father Stan, please meet the

Archangel Mehgen, Meggie, or Meg, for short. She has been in Hollywood for sometime but is

now multi-locating." "Father Stan, please meet the Archangel Meghen," said the Archangel

Angelina. "Hi Father Stan, this is Meghen, Meggie for short, I am on internal WLAN," she said.

"Hi, there Meggie, how are you doing?" replied Father Stan. "Great Stan," she said, "So, what’s

up, what can I do for you?" she said. "Meggie, do you have a last name?" asked Stan. "Well, sort

of, I usually use the same name on earth," she said. "Could I ask what it is?" said Stan. "Well, its

Meghen Fitzryan," she said. "Oh, O.K.," he replied. "Anyway," she said, "I am putting your call

through to Father Fitzgerald on internal WLAN." "I have a ring," she said. "Hello," said Father

Tony, on internal WLAN. "Hi, Tony, this is Fitz." "Hey, Fitz, what’s up?" I replied. "We’re

eating lunch," said Father Stan, " and Sister Joan has gone out to the restroom." "Anything to

report?" I asked. "Not much. Although she seems very shallow. I can’t get her commit to

anything. She seems remarkable not well read. I’ll have to dig a little more." "Sounds good, vet

and counter vet, you know." "Got it," said Stan, "See ya." "Bye."

I spotted Sister Joan, making her way back across the cafetria from the restroom. As she

sat down, I asked, "You know Sister, you look like your in great shape, do you work out often?"

Father Stan asked. Sister Joan was stymied. The Cybrenetic Optics programming that she had

got in the special Alpine University Program in upstate New York kept her fit, trim, and muscular,

without having to exercise at all. "Well, I do try to get out and walk a few time a week," she lied.

"Oh, I do too," Stan replied, "where do you walk?" "Oh, around the indoor or outdoor track," she

said. "That seems so monotonous," replied Father Stan, "you should come walking with me on

the walk/bike trail down by the river."

Damn, thought Sister Joan, I’m supposed to latch onto and cultivate Father Fitzgerald, not

Father Stan focking Fitzhugh. Now what? "Well, Father, that’s a wonderful idea, why don’t we

go this afternoon, say 3:00 p.m.," she asked. "Great," he said, "why don’t you meet me in front of

the Novitiate at 3:00 p.m., its right on the way." "Deal," she said, shaking his hand. Well, I’ve

got to get back to the law school," she said, "see you later." "Alright," Stan said, "Bye, now."

As Father Stan walked back to the Novitiate, his mind, even his body was in turmoil. He

felt physically sick. He knew Sister Joan was probably a K.G.B. agent, yet, he liked her a lot,

maybe, even, he was falling in love with her. Great, he thought, now what. He was losing his

ability to think objectively about the situation. Well, he thought to himself, I guess I’ll go talk to

Father Fitzgerald about this, I need some help.

Father Stan knocked on Father Tony Fitzgerald’s door. Fitzgerald opened, smiling a bit

of a roguish Irish smile. "Well, how did it go?" asked Father Tony. "I don’t know," said Father

Stan, "I mean, I thought I had the whole thing figured out, and then, all of a sudden I was asking

her out for a walk this afternoon, I guess you would call it a date, even," he said. "Well, let’s

don’t talk here," said Father Tony, "the walls have ears, you know." Soon, they were walking

down the boulevard in from of the Novitiate, on the wide double sidewalks.

"Well, first of all, how are you feeling, emotionally, Stan?" asked Father Tony. "Well, I

don’t know, its like all at the same moment I saw that she was K.G.B., that I liked her, and,

somehow I fell in love with her. Is that crazy?" asked Father Stan. "No, not at all, Father Stan,

perfectly normal, in fact, but you know, you have to protect yourself, you have to

compartmentalize your mind. Part of you has to like her, part of you has to love her, part of you is

suspicious of her, and part of you hates her, naturally enough," said Father Tony. "Hates her, why

hates her?" asked Father Stan. "Stan, there is an irrational element in all of us. We call it

‘Original Sin,’ hmmm, ‘irrational self, anti-self interest,’ that’s the ticket. Now most of the

ancients figured that Original Sin emmanates from the Root Chakra which involves the pelvic

genital region. As we see in Genesis, as a general rule, women seem to get a bigger dose of it

because symbolically Eve ate the Apple first and then tempted Adam with it, but also

scientifically, because for women the sexual organs continue even higher up the body than the

pelvic region. The ovaries and uterus are fairly high up there. Men, on the other hand, simply

have guts at that level of their bodies.

"Now, what’s the point," he continued, "the point is that some how some way we are

enticed into romantic relationships both for the good of the couple involved, but also to trick us

into mating and having children, when most of us are selfish enough not to want to do that. You

see Stan, if it were not for natural law which places the intellectual life at the top of the reality

hierarchy, most of our saints would be married persons. They go through hell every day dealing

with the real world and trying to balance idealism with realism in raising their children. On top of

that, there are a hell of a lot of evil people around who don’t want them to succeed, ... it does rock

the boat if a Catholic intellectual couple shows up on the playing field and starts to really make a

difference, even in small ways. They and their kids start living Divine Law, not just natural law.

The Divine Law that Jesus gave us. Satanic parents typically just slit the throats of their children

at some point when the children become inconvenient, or, sell them away into white

slavery/prostitution in Mexico or Africa.

"So, back to Sister Joan, it was very probable, but not inevitable, that you would become

romantically involved with her. What you have to keep in mind though, is that she is probably

SMERSH K.G.B., and may only be getting interested in you or getting seriously involved or

married to you as a result of a K.G.B. assignment from a superior. They do that you know, at

home, even in Sov Land," Father Tony said. Father Stan started crying. "I know," said Father

Tony, "its horrible, so, we can’t let it turn out that way can we? You’ll just have to turn Joan to

the side of goodness, hopefully getting her to join KIAO counterterrorism. Get her to terrorize the

terrorists, eh?. Agreed?"

"Alright," said Father Stan, "but what about you, Father Tony, where do you fit in?"

"Well, Father Stan, that’s a very trick question. I really did want to get this Doctorate in

Cognitive Psychology, but you know, on second thought, I think I’ll be a party breaker. I think

that I will rock the boat in the law school and see how our little friends react. Remember, the

registrar isn’t supposed to tell anyone about my having already got tenure. You are the only one

that knows, so, I think that I will pretend to be a Professor of Counsel, without

portfolio, that is without tenure, and see what happens," I said. "Anyway, hang in there,

remember, you are now my protege, my responsibility, I owe you a life debt in our system. I am

vowed never to let you go down, regardless of where you are or what you have done. Now, in

exchange for this, you are required to act in good faith with respect to me, that is, to do your

utmost not to betray me in any way. You may fail, but you are not supposed to. You are to try to

find God in me as much as you can, and give me the benefit of the doubt when dealing with

others, even one purporting to be God Himself?" agreed, I asked.

Father Fitzhugh looked confused, but then said, "Agreed, I have no choice, you know

what’s going on, and I know that some how, some way it will work out." "Now Stan, the thing to

remember is this, I will never lead you away from God, although you may think so, the Real God

is terribly difficult to find, and then figure out, a lot of it is guess work, He really doesn’t want to

order us around and control us like robots, he wants us to take the initiative. So, we’ll help you

get fixed up here, and with a little luck you will help Sister Joan get fixed up, and, sorry for Father

Andrev, there does have to be a fall guy, and he deserves it, we will do everything we can to put

him in hell.

Chapter 12

"Well, class, Good Morning," "I am Father Tony Fitzgerald, I triple majored in

Philosophy, Theology, and Business Administration at Creighton, and then graduated Order of

the Coif, from The University of Nebraska College of Law. As I am sure you are aware, only

about 1% of all American Lawyers are Order of The Coif. Only certain select schools have a Coif

Chapter, and although the Top Ten Percent of the Graduating Class gets Coif, when one considers

that there are relatively few Coif Chapters, the proportion of total Lawyers holding Coif is

relatively few.

"Now, I am also a Jesuit Priest. I try not to teach theology, instead I teach critical

philosophy, epistemology, and metaphysics as a supplement to learning about property law

through the use of the Socratic Method. That means I do it differently than some of your other

professors, but its my assertion that I do it better. Undoubtedly on your student evaluations of

your professor in this class some of you will whine and complain about philosophy, and that

things are just too hard. Well, they’re not too hard. You are just out of shape academically, and

we are going to work on that. Any questions?"

"Alright, lets start by asking ourselves what ‘property’ is, is mean at the base? What is it?

How about you there? Mr. Jones, what is property?" I, Father Tony asked. "Well, its what you

own, I guess," replied Mr. Jones. "Alright, Mr. Jones states here that property is what you own,

anybody disagree with that?" "How about Ms. Smith, here, Ms. Smith do you think that property

is simply what you own?" "Well, let me think, no, I think that property is just the thing. I mean

this pen of mine is solid, its material, its property," she said. "O.K.," I said, "we have Smith and

Jones with two different approaches, here," I said, "of course not to be confused with the outlaws

Smith and Jones from t.v. Anybody remember Smith and Jones from t.v., Kit Curry and

Hannibal Hayes?" I asked. "Well, a few people I guess. They were sort of like Rob Redford and

Paul Newman in that movie, what was that one, anybody remember?" I asked. "You know they

have that great scene where they go off that cliff on their horses and land in the river below, but

ultimately end up getting shot down in South America?" "No, no one remembers?" Now I use

these digressions to mix things up a bit, provide a little entertainment, but also to give the class a

chance to breath easy a bit, and maybe think a little bit about what we were just talking about from

another place in their minds.

"Now," I said, "we’ve come up with two definitions of property that, interestingly enough

are authoritative. Blackstone said that property was essentially a thing, and in trying to

conceptualize property the farthest he could get was that property is a bundle of sticks. That’s

what Ms. Smith was talking about. Now, Mr. Jones on the other hand basically said that property

is what you own. Well, you know, that isn’t quite what the Restatement of Property says, but its

close. The Restatement of Property says that Property is the legal relationship between persons

with respect to some thing, tangible or intangible. So, when Mr. Jones says that property is what

you own he is coming pretty close. We could paraphrase Mr. Jones and say, property, that is what

I own, is the legal relationship between me and everyone else with respect to what it is that I own.

There isn’t that easy. You see, the Restatement definition, is a level two actuality definition. It

is logically circular. But all level two defintions are either logically circular or involve and

infinite regress," I continued.

"Now," I said, "the ancients say that reality operates on three levels, level one reacality,

mere sense experience and physical reacality, level two, actuality, the level of understanding,

ideas, and analysis, and level three, reality, the level of intellect, judgment, and reflection." "Now,

Ms. Smith’s definition of property as a thing, that is a physical thing, is of course a level one

physcialist definition. Very appropriate for that level. Mr. Jones come up with a conceptualist or

idealist definition of property at level two which works very well at that level. There remains,

however, level three. The defintion of property at level three involves both levels one and two,

but transcends them. Property at level three is what we intutively judge to be property as a critical

judgment of fact. This is all consistent with the Philosophy of Jesuit Father Bernard Lonergan,

and his protege, Jesuit Philosopher Fitzpatrick. So, there it is," I said.

"Now," I continued, "you are probably wondering what the best or better definition is.

Well, of course it’s the last one. The level three defintion which deals with reality and not

actuality or reacality. A judge judges what the ‘property’ in question is in a particular case, hae

does not just analyze it, and, hae certainly doesn’t typically even smell or taste it, does hae? I

asked. "So when we are thinking about property, in the final analysis, we have to go beyond mere

sense experience, as the empiricists try to limit themselves to, we must go beyond mere

understanding or analysis, as the idealist or rationalist try to, instead we must experience,

understand, and then reflect and judge what is the best or real. All right class, that’ enough for

today. See you on Thursday. Thanks." I said. And that was that. Not a bad first class.

Chapter 13

Father Stan Fitzhugh walked into the first day of his Property class a bit unnerved. He

wasn’t sure what he was going to do. The first day of class is a tough day. In the old school each

professor posted an assignment for the first week or the first month of class and then jumped right

in on the first day. I thought about that my first year in teaching but I just couldn’t do it. On the

first day the kids were scared to death. I was on my first day of law school at Georgetown. I got a

dispensation from the provincial to go to law school right out of the novitiate, skipping the

philosophate. I promised that I would try to take law school as much as possible from a

jurisprudential or philosophical point of view, focusing on logic, ethics, public policy, and values.

It worked. I was a philosophy major in undergrad at Creighton and minored in business and then

went directly into the novitiate. I was a follower of Bernard Lonergan’s critical realist philosophy

when I graduated and in my crowd it was all the rage. Unfortunately the Neo-thomist and Kantian

factions in the Jesuit “politburo” were not happy with critical realism. I don’t know if it was

because it was something that was just different, or if it was political, or may somehow

psychological. And so it went.

Teaching here at Lewistown University was fun. It was a small school and a bit out of the

mainstream. Most of the faculty were realists, I think, in some sense. So, I looked out at the

class. Not bad. A few college athletes, I could tell. They always do well, except, I suppose the

football linemen. Sometimes they just couldn’t get it. They typically were tactile thinkers,

which of course isn’t bad. You do stay in touch with the real world that way. But, consistent with

the Quantum Neurophsiological research that I kept up with in classified D.O.D. (Department of

Defense) journals, certain people learn to think using the Quantum Field or the Quantum Grid,

others just do it in their physical biological minds, which, of course run a little bit slower than

minds functioning on the Quantum Level. This of course, although “politically incorrect” with

some people, is totally consistent with Plato who insisted that mudane concrete mind functions are

an aspect of the body mind, the soul mental analytical mind finctions are on Level Two at the

level of the Soul, and the extraordinary Mind at Level Three on the Level of the Intellect. Ken

Wilber says something similar to this in his work involving transpersonal psychology.

“Good morning Class, I am Father Stan Fitzhugh and this is Property Law,” I said. I

scanned the class again. Well, some nice looking women in the class, that is nice to see. I’ll have

to see if any of them tries to pick me up at the end of the first class. That is always a fun game to

play. Ignatius taught us that the way to deal with these situations is never to be judgmental, but

rather, to be attentive and polite and then try to engage the young woman in spiritual conversation.

He said that the Holy Spirit of Divine Wisdom was with us, we were all “wise guys,” and were to

try to play with situations rather than be authoritarian. Of course appropriate authority had to be

exercised, but if you were doing it right it was relatively rare that you would ever have to “lower

the boom” on somebody, and if you did, you did it with the force of your personality and with

logic using physical violence only in the rarest of circumstances.

Jesuit education in the novitiate was inductive, experimental and socratic. It was very rare

for a superior to really tell you anything, let alone order you about. It was assumed that you would

take the initiative yourself, and, if you didn’t, I suppose that you washed out. Although nobody in

my novitiate class did. While not really true in my generation, at least among progressive

Catholics, the traditional, although unwritten rule was that if you washed out from the novitiate

for what ever reason you were considered a “heretic” and “damned.” It was simply expected that

you would leave the Church, typically becoming an Episcoplalian. In my generation, though, a lot

of us applied to the novitiate saying, truthfully, that we knew we had a vocation to go to the

novitiate, but not necessarily to religious life. I not sure that this was allowed in the old days, but

for us this was the only way. We were Vatican II Catholics called by the Spirit of Vatican II, that

is the Holy Spirit. In the old days it was the Vulgate Bible (a shitty translation of the original texts

by the way) which referred to the Holy Ghost rather than the Holy Spirit. I don’t know what it is,

or was, but the Holy Ghost crowd never really caught onto Vatican II, only the Holy Spirit crowd

did. A Jesuit classmate of mind who is in sociology of religion has told me that Satanic Cults

associated with the Church can only survive if the Holy Ghost appellation is used. I wonder if the

Sioux Indians who Ghost Danced in the latter part of the Nineteenth Century were invoking the

power of the Holy Ghost. Who knows. But what I do know is that these Holy Ghost people, at

least the one’s that I have run into, always believe that a good end always justifies the use of evil

means to attain that end, no matter how horrible or despicable the means. In my crowd we

followed the Critical Realist maxim patterned after Thomas Aquinas and Kant, that in most all

circumstances in order for a human action to be good it must follow certain criterion. The end

and means of the decision process must be good, and, the end and means of the action itself must

be good. Thus the decision must involve a critically reflective “good” process, and the result of

that though process, when analyzed deductively, from first principles (e.g., proportionality) must

be good. Additionally, the action itself must also be good, as and end, and the means used to

accomplish the end must be good. And so I started class talking about the means-ends distinction

in law and how that related to Kant and Thomas Aquinas.

Chapter 14

Sister Joan Parker started her first Property class with a note of resignation. “Well,” she

thought, its not as if I’m supposed to accomplish anything, its just that I’m supposed to frag and

rag, trash and bash. “Class, I’m Joan Parker, I’m your Property Professor. I hope you are doing

well, and feel good about coming to Property law today. In point of fact, however, I must tell you

that Property is a depressing subject. It is in Property, more than any other class, perhaps, other

than Contracts, that we find gross evidence of the white, male, racist, sexist, misoginist, classist,

bigotry and hierarchical domination. Count your blessings that I am here to deconstruct this for

you and display the obviousness white, male, countermajoritarian, liberal, fascist practices. For

while the liberal state claims to protect your freedom, it really only enslaves you in inauthentic

desires. We can see this in the first case to be covered, State v. Shack. Follow the syllabus and

open your books please to Shack.”

“You there, what’s your name?” she asked. “Sam Ford, ma’am,” the hapless student

replied. “First of all, Sam, my name is Joan, and I’m not a ma’am. Such sexist appellations are

very unattractive, wouldn’t you agree?” “Well, ma’am...” “I said, no sexist labels, just call me

Joan,” continued Sister Joan. “Alright, Joan,” replied Sam. “Why is Property sexist, Joan?”

continued Sam. “Well, Sam, I can see that you have not been liberated so that you can see the

politically correct point of view. Isn’t it intuitively obvious that Property produces class

distinctions, both socially and economically?” “Well, Joan, my problem is that I double majored

in business and philosophy, and, I just would have to wonder whether, logically, maybe those

class effects you are referring to are secondary effects rather than primary effects. What do you

think? “

Well, great, I thought to myself, just great, another focking jesuit educated asshole in my

class. I wonder if they are planting them. Leon told me it was all over; that the KGB psychic

coup had knocked them all out, and those that were left we got with Speznae trained GRU

cyborgs. “Now what?” she thought to herself. “Well, Stan, you raise an interesting question,”

said Sister Joan, “what do you think?” “Well,” she thought to herself, “if law firms can ‘drop the

hot potato,’ so can I, let’s see how he responds. “Well, Sister Joan, I thought you might take a

shot at the question,” replied Sam. “Great,” she thought to herself, “now the whole class knows

that I’m a nun.” “Well, Sam thank you for pointing that out for me and the rest of the class.

But really, what do you think the answer to your own question is, Dear?” “Well, I’d hate to put

water on your fire. But just as a question, don’t you think referring to a male of my age as ‘Dear,’

is a sexist, misoginista response?” “Misoginista,” replied Sister Joan? “Yes,” replied Sam, “our

straight male crowd refers to sexist male hating women as misoginista. It’s sort of a special forces

thing that we picked up overseas. What do you think?” “I think that we have got a little off

track and should get back to Property,” replied Sister Joan. And so it went.

Chapter XV


The Mercedes deisel truck pulled up to the fence row and 15 Bosnian Moslem guerillas

jumped out onto the ground. It was a cold foggy night, but that was not unusual for Bosnia.

This was a Croatian enclave in the middle of Bosnia. Colonel Gregor was in charge of the

Bosnian patrol. The United Nations already had three death warrants issued for his arrest for war

crimes against humanity but so far he had eluded them. Tonight would be good, Gregor thought,

tonight I will kill as many of the Croatian Catholic scum as I can in order to serve Allah. All

Catholics are infidels and apostates for refusing to accept the Allah of Mohammed. A small

lamp was burning inside a stone barn with a thatched roof, he motioned for the men to spread out

and surround the barn. He kicked open the barn door and found a group of about 50 Croatian

Catholics spread around a fire eating some stew. His men burst through from the back of the

barn and together they herded the Croats into the barnyard. The moonlight showed the terror on

the faces of the women and children, stoicism on the faces of the old men. Soon a group of

American Catholic observers were herded out into the yard as well, and then, several nuns and

Jesuit priests. The women were systematically raped and then were asked, “Do you accept the

primogeniture of Colonel Gregor and the Moslem faith on behalf of Allah and Mohammed His

Prophet?” Without giving them a chance to respond, Gregor slit each of the women’s throats.

A Jesuit priest said, “I call on...” and then his throat was slit by Gregor. “There will be

no calling on Archangels and Saints tonight,” he said. “No passing it on to us by infidels,” he

continued. “You must appeal to Satan as apostates and infidels if you expect to be saved,” he

said. The children screamed and cried but no one was allowed to ask for supernatural help.

Every throat was slit and the blood of the victims drank in a Satanic ritual. Only one person

survived and that was Jesuit Father O’Malley. When Gregor asked O”Malley what his choice

was, O’Malley, a master of neuro symbolic programming, reversed the order of his response,

catching his persecutors off guard. “Satan alway already I reject and God always already I choose,

and Anthony I call on as Saint and Archangel for protection. “You must let me go,” he said, as

he, Father O’Malley looked around and saw that all the others were dead. “If you violate the

rules of the game even further you will be damned not only by God but by Satan himself,” said

Father O’Malley. Gregor screamed and hit O’Malley in the face with the butt of his pistol.

O’Malley passed out and thankfully was spared the sight of the Satanic atrocities which followed.

A United Nations patrol came through the next day and O’Malley was rushed to a hospital

in Prague. The Father General of the Society of Jesus was informed of the event and immediately

had O’Malley put on an American military transport to Gaum, with instructions to stay at the

Jesuit community there.

(To be continued).


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