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Monthly Archives: July 2007

Our Lady Of The Blues


R.E. Prindle

Part V-2

From Gaia To Maia


     This too is an established Jewish custom.  Things don’t absolutely have to be done in the manner in which they are being done.  When the Jews invaded Egypt they began to slaughter the sacred animals which the Egyptians had protected for millennia.  The Jews saw no reason for the custom so they rudely pushed Egyptian mores aside.  This habit is repeated in every country they invade.  The peoples can learn to do it the Jewish way which they feel is the way of God.

     By 1899 they were over 10% of the population of Vienna which is where critical mass begins.  Musceling into the cultural life of the city they acquired a disproportianate number of seats in symphony orchestras.  As in Chaldea and Egypt they assumed that the Semitist style of playing was superior to that of Kultur.  As music in Germania occupied an analogous position to astronomy in Chaldea and magic in Egypt the Jews naturally assumed that they were better musicians than the Germans although music had never played a large part in their culture before.

     As the scientific demands of music are greater than ancient astronomy and magic the Jews were never able to muster a composer of the first rank although their instrumentalists dominated the stage.  But then all the empresarios were Jewish so they would necessarily hear with the Jewish ear or intellect.  Even today the Jews believe that without the Semitist intellect the orchestras of Europe sound nowhere as good as before the Holocaust.

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     They estalished their own newspapers and publishing houses.  They used them to defame anyone who dissented from their program.

     Without physical resources they had to resort to psychological means to disarm their opponents.  They had to ‘psyche’ them out.  Anyone who opposed or criticised them was branded an anti-Semite.  Thus German nationalists became, if not criminals, at least, pariahs in their own land.  The Austrian reaction to Jewish nationalism was extremely violent giving expression to itself only after the Anschluss.

     These German defense forces were active and powerful during the period from approx. 1890 to 1914.  After 1918 the resistance to the Jewish invasion crumpled everywhere.  The Millennial Revolution was going swimmingly.  Jews assumed the top positions or became dominantly influential in nearly all governments including that of the United States.  The Jewish invasion was for all practical purposes a success.

     Two men were born into this Viennese environment that would have a profound impact on world history:  Sigmund Freud and Adolf Hitler.


     Freud’s main desire was to become a great man.  this idea was planted in his intellect by his Christian nurse as a child.  He succeeded in doing this in the field of psychology.  Freud was himself an immoral man nor does he advocate morality for others.  He advocates an unbridled self-indulgence.  Like he says:  Life is short.  To succeed in one’s aims it is permissable to use criminal means.  The Mafia believes the same thing.

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     As a mature man he was schooled in the tradition of Anton Mesmer from whom modern psychology descends.  He was heavily indebted to the teaching of the French psychologist Jean Martin Charcot as well as to the school of Nancy.  His own approach was an adaptation of their methods.  He at first used Mesmerism or hypnotism as did the schools of Paris and Nancy but later abandoned pure hypnotism is favor of the self suggestion or free association.  Hypnotism as a result went into a period of disfavor although applications for it are being found once again.

     He got his real start by insinuating himself into the good graces of Josef Breuer whose work he very nearly appropriated.  Having plundered Breuer he broke off with him never speaking to him for the rest of Breuer’s life.  Thus does conscience make villains of us all.

     Unable to admit his indebtedness to his teachers he repudiated their influence acting as though he had evolved his theories out of whole cloth.  As an aspect of his character he was unable to suffer any criticism or advancement of his ideas by others.  He eventually acrimoniously broke with any of his associates with intelligence and independence.

     Freud was a Jew which is to say devoutly so.  He did not consider himself an Austrian or German but an ethnic Jew.  He believed in the supremacy of the Jewish people.

     The most revealing anecdote concerning him was that as a child he was walking with his father who told him how when he was a young man he was wearing a new hat when a Gentile knocked it off his head into the street.

page 853.

     ‘What did you do?’  Freud asked breathlessly expecting the answer to be that his father knocked the Gentile down.

    ‘I went out into the street and picked it up.’  His father replied.

     Freud then lost all respect for his father which troubled him greatly throughout his life and in his vision of psychology  for he wrote:  ‘I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father protector.’  His dad wasn’t it.

     So Freud’s own psychic needs distorted his approach from one of  Science as Jung claimed to one based on his personal needs.  He falsely maintained that the father figure is the most important in a man’s life.  When his disciple Otto Rank had the courage to correctly insist that the mother was the most important Freud drummed him out of the ranks.

     Disappointed by his own father he took as a surrogate father figure Hamilcar Barca, the father of Hannibal.  Hamilcar Barca having suffered an injury at the hands of the Romans made his son swear on his sword, which is only a substitute for the penis, that he would avenge him on the Romans.  Clearly Freud would have promised his dad to avenge him on the Europeans if he had asked.

     Curiously Freud doesn’t carry Hannibal’s story through to its conclusion.  The Romans exterminated the Carthaginians and razed their city.

page 854.

     Freud’s lapses in the application of his psychology are very peculiar.  Having discovered the psychological compulsion to repeat he applied it neither to himself nor to his people.  He might have saved the Jews much suffering if he had.  In his desire to avenge his father he became a central figure in the millennial period of 1913-28 which ended in yet another attempt to exterminate the Jews.

     Post-exilic history for the Jews began rather favorably.  They returned to Palestine just as the Middle Eastern empires were entering a time of troubles.  The succeeding Hellensitic period left them more or less independent until in 186 BC the Seleucids interfered in their internal affairs.  Under the Maccabbees the Jews were able to defeat the relatively weak Seleucid Emperors who were besieged on all sides.  The victory gave them a feeling of invincibility.

     The feeling was shattered by the Romans.

     The Jews tried again and failed in seventeenth century Europe.

     Their third repeated attempt was 1913-28 Europe.

     Freud made the incredible mind boggling statement on the eve of the Bolshevik, or Jewish, Revolution in Russia:  We tell ourselves that anyone who has succeeded in educating himself to truth about himself is permanently defended against the danger of immorality even though the standard of morality may differ in some respects from that which is customary in society.  He then goes on to say especially since the existing standards of morality are beneath contempt.

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     Thus he advocates a private, personal, obviously self-serving morality as superior to any ideal morality that has evolved over millennia.

     What could Freud, knowing of the imperfect nature of man, have found so objectionable about the existing  morality?  It can only have been that it was based on European traditions and not Freud’s own.

     The birth of modern Judaism was caused by the rise of the European Scientific attitude.  Science was the sole creation of Europeans with which Jews had nothing to do.  Prior to the Enlightenment in their arguments with Roman Catholicism the Jews had not only been equals but superiors.  As the creator of the corpus followed by the Church the Jews were in a better postion to undertand and interpret  it through the repository of the Talmud.

     When as a result of the Enlightenment Scientific Europeans left the puerile biblical debates behind the Jews were hopelessly medieval.  The Talmud, so effective against the Bible, was worthless against Science.  The more intelligent or, perhaps, less traditional Jews began to reorganize Judaism to meet the Scientific times.  This left them second rate beneath the Europeans, a serious affront to their amour propre.

      The real challenge then was to regain their superiority.  This could only be done by excelling in Science as they could invent nothing superior to it.  If they merely excelled in Science they merely excelled in an European milieu.  Freud at one time says that he saw no reason why the ‘wisdom’ of the the Talmud couldn’t be raised to a level of a Science thus bringing the Jews superior to the Europeans in their dreams.

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     Strangely he didn’t understand that the entry into full consciousness caused by the understanding of the workings of the psyche obviated all forms of consciousness that went before including the so-called ‘wisdom’ of the Talmud.

     So, to whom was Freud speaking about educating themselves against the danger of immorality?  By Freud’s own admission his fellow Jews.

     Freud’s vision of psychoanalysis is personal dealing exclusively with the inner workings of the subject’s mind.  He doesn’t even seem to grasp that the fixations are caused by external forces.  He seems to think the mind functions independently of the outside world.  Input does not seem important to him.

     To Jung and others Man’s relationship to his world is based more on a Challenge and Response system.  In other words, the intellect, which Freud denies, plays a very important part.

     Freud’s own intellect cast against his ideas places them in a different light.  The man was born in 1856 in a Central European Jewish milieu.  It will be remembered that the Hasidic religious movement grew out of psychological trauma that occurred in 1648.  Founded c. 1700 the Hasidic movement was only about a hundred fifty years old at his birth thus retaining much of its original vitality.

     Also arising out of the Jewish disappointments caused by the failed messiah, Sabbatai Zevi, in 1666 was the movement led by a follower of Zevi by the name of Jacob Frank.  This movement also took shape in the first half of the eighteenth century and was still flourishing during Freud’s young manhood.

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     As a consequence of Zevi’s failure Frank believed that man was inherently evil thus God would never redeem him until the evil was spent.  The only way to expel evil was to commit enough crime to get it out of one’s system.  Novel psychology to say the least.  Thus he taught a large and attentive Jewish audience that one must commit evil for evil’s sake and that good will come of it.  So, in a manner of speaking, one is doing good by doing evil.

     Now, one can trace the spread of this idea in various forms and guises through time and space.  One very interesting advocate who deserves more study is an eighteenth century English Jew by the name of Falk.  Another is a twentieth century American Jew by the name of Arnold Rothstein.  And of course, Marx and Freud.

     Freud does not go into the external influences that formed his outlook on life or personal Weltanschauung but this emphasis on a personal morality that is superior to prevailing morality seems a sublimation of Jacob Frank and his evil for evil’s sake.

     Now, to whom was Freud speaking and why?  Certainly Freud considered himself a prophet of the Jewish people amidst the dawning millennium.  He had an intense desire to avenge his people on the goyim.  Did this Hannibal in that role have anything to do with organizing or directing the Jewish revolution of the dawning millennium?

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     There is no question that his statement that anyone who has educted himself to truth about himself is permanently defended against the danger of immorality could be construed as advance absolution for any acts of the Bolsheviks that would be considered a crime by conventional morality.  Examine the acts of Hitler in light of Freud’s criteria.

     Freud’s statement and role resembles those a great deal of Simeon Bar Yochai, a second century rabbi of the Roman Wars.  The Roman-Jewish war of 66-135 AD was perhpas the first of the Holy Wars.  Its rationale and leadership was provided by the religious leaders of Judaism.

     Simeon Bar Yochai was a leading architect of that war, probably its guiding light.  After Bar Kochba’s defeat in 135 AD Yochai was compelled to go into hiding in a cave from which he daren’t move for many years until the Romans gave up the search.  As a tribute to his influence in the war his obituary said that he was the man who shook the world to its foundations.

     Just before the bloodbath of 116 when the Jews rose up to slaughter hundreds of thousands of Gentiles a moral quandary arose in the Jewish community.  They wondered whether it was permissable to kill ‘good’ Gentiles as well as ‘bad.’  Yochai without a moment’s hesitation replied that it was permissable to kill any and all Gentiles.  Genocide in other words.

     In 1666 with the expected advent of the millennium heralded by the messiah, Sabbatai Zevi, the Jews had been prepared on the strength of ‘God’s’ promise to rise up and murder Europeans much as they had done during the Roman War.

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     The third repeat of the Jewish Revolution of which the millennial dates were 1913-28 had come to a slow boil with the Communist Manifesto of 1847.

     It will be remembered that following Marx’ manifesto all the national Communist parties were over half Jewish.  The non-Jew Kropotkin as leader of  the anarchists had been discredited by Marx and the anarchists disenfranchised from the Communist Movement.  The Jews then held all the leading positions.

     Thus four Jews led the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia- Lenin, Kamenev, Zinoviev and Trotsky.  All the abortive revolutions of Central Europe were led by Jews.  They actually repeated the massacres of the Roman War in Russian and were prepared to do so throughout the world as the Revolution rolled on to success.   Even today Jewish representatives are calling for the genocide of Indo-Europeans.

     In Russia slaughterhouses were established in which Jewish murderers ‘worked’ all day long slaughtering Gentiles until they stood ankle deep in blood and gore.  Were they able to do this because they knew truths about themselves that prevented them from committing immoral acts?  Were they absolved of their crimes in advance as the Jews of the Roman War were?  They must have been or they couldn’t have performed the ‘work.’  As it was, numbers of them had nervous breakdowns as a result of their labors.

     The atrocities in Hungary and the attempted genocide in the Crimea have already been mentioned.  The similarities between the Roman and European slaughters are quite pronounced in their ferocity.  Of course all the details of the former had been recorded in that epistle of ‘science’ the Talmud.

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     Did the Jews go to Freud to justify and absolve them of their atrocities as they had gone to Simeon Bar Yochai two thousand years earlier?  There is the compulsion to repeat.  The Jews were very well organized before, during and after the Great War.  Agents of American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee swarmed over Central and Eastern Europe from their safe haven in the US after the war in an attempt to rehabilitate their brethren first so they could assume control.  The AJC and B’nai B’rith were the leading components of the ‘Joint.’  Freud had been a member of B’nai B’rith since 1895.  He lectured to them in Austria on a consistent basis for years.  As a psychoanalyst what was he telling them that he wasn’t telling the scientific community?  His intellect deserves closer examination for what else can ‘anyone who has succeeded in educating himself to truth about himself is permanently defended against immorality’ mean except a license to kill.  If a Jewish supremacy arose out of that evil wouldn’t good have come out of it in Jewish eyes?  Yochai, Frank, Freud; there is a succession.

     Placed in that context one must reevaluate the whole period as well as the careers of Hitler and Stain for as Freud wrote openly in a universal idiom his rationale can be appropriated by any individual for his personal morality.

     The invasion of Vienna was preceded and was coincident with the rise of Jews in France.  At the time of the Russian Revolution a document became prominent called The Protocols Of The Learned Elders Of Zion.  The document outlines a method for creating discord in society so that a junta can easily assume control.  It was said that this document was a Jewish blueprint for world dominion.  The provenance of the Protocols has never been extalished for certain.  The Jews say it is a ‘forgery’ while their opponents say it is authentic.

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     Over the years the Jews have managed to discredit the document and have its study suppressed.  This is a great disservice because whoever wrote it its precepts are currently being followed by several groups; not the least the Bush administration and his minion, Chertoff.  It behooves every person interested in current affairs to be conversant with the Protocols of Zion.

     In point of fact the Protocols are of Jewish provenance.

     One thing all disputants agree on is that the Protocols were based on an earlier document of Franco-Jewish provenance called in English:  The Dialogues Between Montesquiou And Machiavelli In Hell.  The Dialogues present much of the content of the Protocols in different form.  The Dialogues are of Jewish provenance so whether the Protocols are or are not is a moot point.

     The Dialogues were attributed to a French Jew by the name of Maurice Joly but internal evidence indicates several hands including the ‘Gibbon of Jewish Historians’ Heinrich Graetz.

     The creation of the Dialogues was coordinated by a French Jew by the name of Adolph Cremieux.  Little known outside Jewish circles but exremely important Cremieux also deserves further study.  He was a lawyer and politico deeply involved in the revolutions of 1830 and 1848.  If one takes the Jewish ‘Gibbon’ Graetz at his word both revolutions were the result of Jewish machinations.  On this point Graetz and Hitler goosestep in unison.

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     Cremieux was resp9nsible in the annexation of Algeria in 1830 under cover of that revolution for obtaining French citizenship for the Algerian Jews.  Thus with the annexation the barbarous medieval Jews of Algeria became full French citizens gaining precedence over the native Algerines.  Clever move for the Jews, bad move for France.

     As Jewish affairs were consolidating nicely in France twelve years after the 1848 Revolution a central governing body called the Alliance Israelite Universelle was founded by Cremieux in 1860.  The Dialogues appeared in 1862.  Coincidence?  The name means the International Alliance of Jewry or in a slightly different translation:  The International Jewish Conspiracy.  Actually the Alliance was the seat of the Jewish government until 1900 when the seat was transferred to the United States under the guidance of the financier Jacob Schiff.

     Thus the Protocols arose out of the Dialogues in direct succession some time during the 1880s.  It should be noted that the Dialogues was never seen in bookstores.  It is said the whole printing was confiscated by Napoleon III against whom they were supposedly directed.  It follows that the only people who could have known of the book and provided a copy as a model for the Protocols were its producers the Jews of France who may have retained the actual manuscript.

     Nevertheless, as masters of misinformation, disinformation and misdirection the Jewish government was able to shame the Liberal parties into rejecting Jewish provenance of the Protocols.  The Liberals then condemned any Gentiles who persisted in saying so as ‘anti-Semitic cranks.’  That is actually the ‘proof’ that the Protocols aren’t Jewish.  Under pressure a few academics denied their authenticity.

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     Jacob Schiff himself was a very effective Prime Minister.  He was able to engineer the First Russian Revolution of 1905 by funding the Japanese war machine from America while he directing European financiers prevented funding of the Russians.

     Schiff was able to disrupt American and Russian diplomatic connections for the benefit of the Jews from 1900 to 1913 creating an actual break in relations in the latter year.  Immediately with the Bolshevik succession he rushed huge loans of American dollars to their coffers even during the Great War to shore up the regime.

     Thus absolved by Freud of guilt and supported by the world resources of the Jews from 1917 to 1924 it looked as though the Jews were on the eve of success in their millennial pursuit.  With the possible exeptions of Mussolini and Ford it looked as though there were no fences facing.

     However Stalin and Hitler sensed the danger.  Hitler was also a product of the Vienna that produced Freud.  Hitler himself was always hostile to Freudian beliefs; it may be assumed that Hitler read at least some Freud.  He was hostile to Freud for exactly the same reason Freud was hostile to Kultur.  Living in the Vienna under the goverance of the ‘anti-Semitic’ Mayor Lueger, Hitler was self-educated.  He spent years in the libraries organizing his view of the world.

     In Freudian terms both he and Stalin certainly knew truths about themselves which prevented them from committing ‘immoral’ acts.  Freud’s dictum could be construed as also authorizing their crimes.

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     Coming to maturity in the Red Terror of 1917-24 Hitler had a good understanding of the course of events in Central and Eastern Europe.  It is silly to think that he acted solely from his own impulses.  There was a civil war going on between Reds and Whites from 1918-33 in Germany.  Judeo-Communist atrocities were daily before his eyes.  As he said, he knew his head would roll in the sand if he lost.  That was not mere rhetoric.

    Hitler’s experience in Vienna convinced him of the nature of the war between Jews and Gentiles.  The evidence is clear that the Viennese shared his view.  Once given the upper hand over their invaders the Austrians were much more obdurate than the Germans.  Never forget that an Austrian, Hitler, directed the fate of the German nation.

     Hitler’s book burning of 1933 might be construed as nothing more than a vindictive censorship of ideas he didn’t like.  But as the books burned were those of Jews, especially Freud, it should probably be seen as an attempt to eject Semitism from Kultur.  In other words, the triumph of Kultur over Semitism.  In the end the Germans chose to kill the Jews rather than discriminate against them or go under.  You may be sure the Jews would have done the same as they had or attempted numerous times before.

     As Stalin usurped power from the Jews in Russia a strange thing happened.  Psychoanalytic methods assumed great prominence.

     When Freud’s disciple Otto Rank defected from the ranks of Freudian psychoanalysts he was excommunicated.  The validity of his views was not examined;  even if true they were not the true Truth of the Faith.  Hence Rank was compelled to submit to criticism, to confess his faults and beg for acceptance back into the faith.

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     The Show Trials of 1936 were conducted in the exact same manner except that the sinners were given the death sentence.  The method surfaced again in Red China in 1966 when the Red Guards and Cultural Revolutionaries of Mao the Dong overturned that society.  The accused were criticized in mass meeting, compelled to confess their ‘faults’ and beg to be allowed to rehabilitate themselves through hard labor.

     Thus Marxist and Freudian ideas converged in an orgy of evil to destroy the oldest continuous civilization in the world.

     The notion prevails in Politically Correct circles in the US today.  Thus Freudianism has had a profound if unsuspected impact on the world.

     Freud remained confident through 1928 began to waver in 1930 and by 1938 the horror of the impending destruction of the Jews as a repeat of the Roman War was before his eyes as he fled Austria for England.  In Moses and Monotheism he pitifully whines that the Jews had give up those notions of world dominion long ago.  Or, in other words, I’m sorry.

     Like Hannibal, his attempt to avenge his father resulted in the destruction of his people.  As in the Roman War the Nazis conducted a manhunt to find every single Jew and kill him.  Not only had Bar Kochba and Sabbatai Zevi failed Jews as Messiahs, so had the Revolution.

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     The Jews failed in this third attempt to take over the world but the legacy of Sigmund Freud lives on in the ambiguous words of his corpus.  His immediate political aims failed but his undermining of Christian society was much more successful.

     Apart from his political intent Freud had uncovered a great scientific area of study.


The Shirt Of Nessus

     While Freud’s short term political goals ended in disaster for his people, as did those of his role model Hannibal, Freud’s long term goal of destroying the social foundations of the Gentiles has succeeded very well.

     As an innovator Freud can not be expected to have a complete and final idea.  Much of the information that became available after 1950 was undeveloped in Freud’s time, such as the Matriarchal and Hetairic eras, so he cannot be held accountable for not employing them.  Physiology has made tremendous strides since his day.

     Freud’s errors do not so much lay in areas of knowledge but in areas of intent.  He was unable to separate his own psychology of hatred from that of his scientific discipline.  Hence his mistaken emphasis on the importance of the father figure and his misbegotten notions of the Oedipus Complex.  Then too, he projected his hatred of the Gentiles into his views of religion and sexuality.

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     The only thing of value Freud had to offer, that of the formation of the neuroses, has been rejected by the lay and medical communities alike.

     Strangely his nonsense is revered as great revelation of truth, largely because it fits in with prevailing prejudices.  In his attack on the Christian religion Freud was curiously unaware that the Scientific Consciousness had displaced the anterior consciousnesses of Hetaira, Matriarchy and Patriarchy.  Thus the people who were dependent on Religion as the basis of the mentality were people whose beliefs could not be dislodged.  On the one hand were the various esoteric religions whose beliefs  do not depend on the divinity of Jesus and the Fundamentalists whose belief is so secure nothing can shake it.  For those who need a supernatural agency in their lives New Age people using science as a tool have created alien intelligence from beyond the solar system to serve as their ‘God.’

     If Freud thought dispelling Christianity as a religious belief would bring the Gentiles down he was mistaken.  The ‘illusion’ had already been replaced by a ‘reality.’  The futility of trying to dispel religious beliefs should have been clear to Freud.  The exposure of the illusion or, even delusion, of the compact between the Jewish people and their tribal god had no effect on them; they continue to believe the compact exists and that Palestine was given to them by their tribal god inalienably.

     The most potent dissolvent in Freud’s arsenal was his sexual theory.  He was quite severely criticized for his sexual beliefs then and they should be rejected now.

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     Everything Freud believed on the subject was wrong.  Basic to his misunderstanding was the physical structure of the human organism.  He missed the relationship of the physical organism with its psychological organization.

     He quite correctly picked up the ovate and spermatic halves of the psyche but since he didn’t associate them with their physical origins he mistakenly thought that men were part woman and vice versa.  This was a critical misconception as it opened the door to much erroneus speculation on homosexuality.

     There may be rare cases of sexual ambiguity caused by birth defects in the physical apparatus or defective hormonal systems but any other expression of ambiguity is a perversion that is not natural but comes about only when the ovate is fixated and spermatic is repressed or, in other words, when the organism is mentally ill.  Psychological perversion has nothing to do with physical organization.

     Since he misunderstood the physical organism he equated sexuality not with the Power Train but with sexual intercourse.  Freud actually equated fucking with mental health.  Because psychic discomfort is reflected in sexual urges he actually believed that the more fucking one did the better person one would be.  Such nonsense has not only passed unchallenged for eighty years but is actually embraced today as the Gospel of Fuck.

     Freud did not believe in the intellect of the effectiveness of intelligence.  While he made the grandiose pronouncement:  Where Id was, Ego shall be, he failed to explain how this would come about.  For whatever reason he considered the intellect nonexistent and intelligence ineffective and unimportant.  In keeping with his times he believed in the hereditary transmission of mental traits.

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     More importantly he invented a whole category of non-existent affects called the ‘instincts.’  Like the Unconscious and Collective Unconscious instincts do not exist.  There are no instincts, not a single one, all is a matter of learning and education.

     Even eating is not an instinct but taught at the mother’s breast.  Hunger may be a physical reality but it is not an instinct.  Assuaging hunger must be learnt and that literally at the mother’s breast.  The first lesson an infant is taught is when the mother inserts the nipple in his mouth.  His mouth blocked he has no choice to resist suffocation but to begin sucking as in attempting to draw in air.  Imagine his surprise when the liquid  emitted seems delicious and when he swallows it because he can’t spit it out the physical reaction is terrific.  It feels good.  Having learnt to eat he wants more.  Being a quick learner, from that point on the infant will demand to be fed.  But without that first infusion he would die hungry not knowing what the desire to eat meant.

     Because Freud wanted to project his own psychic vision he gave instincts precedence over all other psychic functions.  He professed that the individual was incapable of resisting or controlling what the Ancients characterized as the Raging Bull and what he called the Ego.

     Both the Church and Esoteric religions have devised rigors to control and domesticate this Bull or Ego/Instincts by using intelligence.  Freud thought that to use your intelligence to control your ‘instincts’ was to incur damaging inhibitions and repressions.  Hence he was opposed to ‘morality.’  Freud imagined this did irreparable damage to the psyche especially sexual inhibitions and repressions hence the Gospel of Fuck.

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     If fucking actually made a person better, then the logical conclusion is that libertines and homosexuals are the best people in the world.  Fucking dominates the homosexual’s mind.  It is not unusual for them to commit thirty or forty acts of sex a day for as many days as they can sustain it.

     As the only thing that counts in sexual activity is the climax it follows that if machines were placed in prominent places to masturbate the individual on an hourly basis or less that society would be darn near perfect; the millennium would have arrived.  I don’t know why people are leery of buying the Brooklyn Bridge when they have bought the myth of sexual intercourse.

     The fact is that libertines and homosexuals are the worst people in the world so the basis of Freud’s argument is very limp.

     The West has generally embraced Freud’s misguided sexual theory.  The United States is actually fucked.  Freud’s sexual theory was picked up by the lame third rate novelist, Henry Miller, who actually formulated the Gospel Of Fuck during the twenties and thirties in his novels, The Tropics of Capricorn and Cancer.

     Henry Miller was gaining respectability during the fifties with psychotic fringe groups in the San Francisco Bay Area and elsewhere.  By the sixties he would have a profound impact on society with the reverence given his two volumes of the Tropics.

page 871.

     As Freud was interpreted in the common mind repression and inhibition were the causes of psychic discomfort.  The common mind had no idea how inhibitions and repressions were caused exept by not being allowed to do whatever you wanted to do.  Through the forties and fifties the children of innumerable families were encouraged to indulge their whims and fancies regardless of who they might hurt.  They were given no instruction or correction lest they become inhibited and repressed.  It was thought that when they grew up they would naturally gravitate to the intelligent choice.

     The so-called ‘Me First’ generation of the sixties and seventies lacked proper instruction in managing their ‘instincts.’  The pervading influence of past mores prevented them expressing themselves with true lack of ‘inhibition’ or ‘repression.’  The wave of high school shoot outs of the later century when the succeeding generation had moved out from the shadow of earlier mores were committed by the offspring of the ‘Me First’ generation.  They are the logical progression of Freudian sexual theory.

     Employing metal detectors and other ‘inhibitory’ or ‘repressive’ systems will not solve the problem, Freud has to be amended.

     Freud’s thesis was advanced by the Jewish monologist Lenny Bruce as well as furthered by Jewish interests in Hollywood who produced innumerable ‘action’ films in which the uninhibited and unrepressed protagonist  attempts to solve his problems from the barrel of a gun rather than reason them out.

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     The homosexual crowd aboard the Teufelsdreck, especially Kanary believed they were healthier because they thought of themselves as uninhibited and unrepressed.  They did not know that they were more inhibited and repressed not to say compulsive than the heteros aboard.

     Freud who concentrated his studies in hysteria should have known that inhibitions and repression were affects of the condition.  He should also have known that homosexuals are classic hysterics but he preferred not to see this because he was a homosexual himself and what happened on his consulting couch we may never know.

     By following the Gospel Of Fuck in accordance with Freud’s instructions the Homos may have thought they were exorcising their demons but instead they were consecrating them.

     In any event Freud even moreso than his second century predecessor, Simeon Bar Yochai, may be called the The Man Who Shook The World and continues to shake it from the grave.

Back To The Festivities

     Captain Ratches mistakenly gave these Homos carte blanche to organize the initiation as they sought fit.  Since he had contempt and abhorrence for the enlisted man he wanted no contact with them nor would he delegate a couple officers to oversee the games.

     Thus he effectively transferred the police power to this homosexual gang placing the rest of the crew at their mercy.

page 873.

     The crew could be compared to the Jews under Hitler.  The Jews were severely and unjustly criticized for having been the passive victims of Hitler.

     In fact they had no reason to distrust the police power of the State.  The Communists in any coalition government they entered always demanded the police power and with good reason, the police power of any State is irresistible.

     Thus in the Bolshevic Revolution of Russia the Cheka was organized and run by the Jews.  The power to arrest made the slaughter of Russians child’s play.  They were no less passive in the analogous situation than the Jews.

     The assumption of police power by the Homos aboard the Teufelsdreck meant that they could commit crimes against the crew without resistance.  The crew surrendered themselves for the three days on the assumption it was required of them and trusting in the justice and self restraint of the self-appointed Shellbacks cum Homos.

     The Homos released their inhibitions and repressions in an orgy of cruelty resembling in diluted form the horrors of Auschswitz, The Russian Revolution, The Cultural Revolution and Charenton.  The inmates were in control of the asylum.

The Shame Of The Teufelsdreck

     Duber and Erect fully meant to implement their threat made against Trueman in the shower.  Fortunately for himself and due to Kanary’s malice he was always on watch when their psyches flared up.  Trueman had convinced himself that it was necessary to have a good time crossing the equator.  So for several days he had lain out during lunch time working on a tan.

page 874.

     A tan is not much work in the tropics.  The rays of the sun are intense.  Fifteen minutes on each side had been enough to turn Dewey from nut brown to sooty black in a few days.  The following day his skin cracked like a dry river bottom after which he gave up the idea of tanning.

     But on this day as he lay out on the Hedgehog deck Teal Kanary approached asking softly:  ‘Mind if I take up this space beside you?’

     ‘I’m surprised you’d want to.  I thought you didn’t like me.’

     ‘Not at all.’  Kanary cooed.  ‘Not at all.’  It was a double entendre that could be taken either way.

     He lay down beside Trueman a foot or two away while eyeing him with a vague Mona Lisa smile.  He was looking forward to his plan when they crossed the equator and as he smiled he imagined himself astride Trueman pumping his ass.

     It didn’t take mental telepathy to read his thoughts.  A number of men led by Duber also drifted up inconspicuously.  Trueman feeling uncomfortable got up and left.  He saved himself a great deal of humiliation not to mention possible pysical injury for he was the intended first victim of the initiation.  In more ways than one.

     The next day Duber, Erect and their associates began carrying four foot lengths of fire hose.  This was one heck of a weapon.   The interior of the three inch hose is heavy rubber with a woven cord covering.  As Dewey stood the afternoon watch they committed their first outrage.  One of the crew was seized and held by two men while Duber flailed his kidneys, his favorite spot, and bottom with the fire hose.  The screams of the man raged over the bridge from below as this was a serious and savage beating.  The Homos then rampaged over the ship seizing and beating any Pollywogs they found.  The screams and cries reaching Dewey on port lookout made him tremble.  He looked over at Ratches but the Captain merely shook his head as though he found enlisted men incomprehensible.  It was with some trepidation that Dewey came down from watch but by then the games were over for the day.

page 875.

     There was some grumbling as the equator was still two days away.  The Pollywogs rightly felt that the so-called Shellbacks were exceeding their authority.  But as the police power had been ceded them by Captain Ratches it was felt wrong to resist the ‘law’ although the Pollywogs should have rebelled and put the Homos in their place.  But like the Jews of Nazi Germany and the Russians of the Bolshevik Revolution they were taken by surprise.

     Dewey had the after lookout watch the next morning when he had occasion to see just how brutal these Homos could be.  Duber had taken over leadership of the so-called Shellbacks assisted by his lieutenant, Peter Erect.

     Trueman had the after watch but instead of being on the three inch gun mount he stood all the way aft between the Depth Charge racks with his phone plugged into the after connection.

page 876.

     Not only had the police power shifted to the homos but the Pollywogs were expected to take the chicanery in resignation just like the victims of the Red Guard.  Any show of resistance or ill humor was subject to condemnation and increased brutality.

     Duber and a few others were clustered around the hose reel behind the after hatch.  The man they really wanted was the after watch, Trueman.  As the watch he was immune to harassment, or so he thought.

     The Homos seized the hapless sailors who wandered aft as surrogates.  On one a bucket of slop was dumped over his head which they made another lick up while they flailed away at his back.

     ‘Hitting too hard to be just for fun.’  Dewey observed with queasiness in his stomach at their brutality.

     Then Cornell Roberts unwarily came up from First.  He was pounced on.  For some reason he seemed to excite the Shellbacks as they whooped and hollered and danced around wondering what to do with him.  Kanary came aft at this time and proffered a suggestion.  ‘Right.’  Duber hollared.  ‘Bend him over the hose reel.’

     The reel was about three feet high so Roberts’ rear end was just at the right height as he was pulled over the reel.  Trueman was already aghast at the violence of these men thanking his lucky stars he was on watch.

     While Roberts was being laid out Duber danced back about four steps then rearing back as to get full force he stepped quickly forward swinging his four foot hose as hard as he could, hard enough it was.  The smack resounded across the water as Roberts’ flesh involuntarily quivered through his jeans and water ran down the reel.  the color fled his face as he let out a strangled cry that went beyond pain.

     Then Duber backed up and did it again. 

     ‘Oh, my god.’  Trueman thought as he fought to keep his vomit down.  ‘One more time and they could kill him.’

     Then Peter Erect looked back at the real target and saw the horrified expression on Trueman’s face.  He grinned in anticipation.

     ‘There he is.  Let’s get him.’

     ‘He’s on watch.’  Duber replied.

     ‘If he complains so much the worse for him.’  Kanary said seizing the hose from Duber.

     Four of them led by Erect advanced on Trueman.  Dewey was absolutely terrified.  His glance rested on a whitened Roberts shivering with shock and realized that if they got him over the reel he would probably never be the same man again.  The mouthpiece quivered in his hand as he debated whether to call for help and blow his cool or submit to a beating that would leave psychic scars of some magnitude and possible physical injury.

     ‘Hey, I’m on watch.’  He joked seeking to preserve his dignity.

     ‘That won’t save you this time.’  Erect crowed grabbing the mouthpiece out of his hand.  Other hands seized his legs as they began carrying him to the hose reel.

page 878.

     Why someone had reminded him just that morning that the ear phones were transmitters too he would never understand.  Remembering that fresh reminder he seized the earphones from his head shouting into them in a humorous mock serious voice:  “Help. Help.  They’re abducting the watch.’

     Ratches informant Shakey Jake Brook who was standing as Bridge Talker immediately turned to the Captain.  ‘Sir, After Watch says he’s being abducted.’

     Ratches who had been observing the Shellback’s activities with the distaste due to lower orders looked back from the bridge to see Trueman being carried toward the hose reel.  At that moment Trueman believed his ruse had failed.  He was preparing himself for a numbing beating as Kanary swinging the hose glared at him with fiery eyes.  Then he heard Ratches voice blare from the squawk box:  ‘Now you men leave my watch alone.’

     Erect and the others looked up to the bridge to see Ratches looking down at them.  For the moment they acknowledged a police authority higher than their own and put Trueman down.  As it was they were within a hair of disregarding Ratches’ order which would have put the ship in an amusing situation for that would have been akin to mutiny.  There would have had to have been serious consequences.

     ‘We’ll get you later, Trueman.’

     ‘Hey, man, I was only joking in the spirit of the games.  How did I know they’d take it serious.  Can’t you guys take a joke?’

     ‘You think you’re really clever using your earpiece like that don’t you?’  Duber hissed.

 page 880

     ‘I had no idea it would work.’  Trueman laughed.  ‘Besides Duber, you know this is over tomorrow.  Beware of the backlash.’

     As Trueman put his earphones back on it was with a sense of the deepest relief.  Roberts was standing against the K-guns still drained of color, trembling from shock while the big yellow stain on the front of his pants, down his legs and over his shoes betrayed the force of the blows delivered him.

     Wearing a mask of affected gaity Trueman also reflected on the tone and content of Ratches’ plea which he wasn’t alone in apprehending.  There had been a whining exasperated plea in Ratches’ order which had been more of a request than an order.  The distance he felt between himself and the men was apparent.  The idea of ‘my’ watch was an indication of a separation between bridge and crew.

     In Trueman’s mind at that point the unity of the Teufelsdreck was lost.  Others had heard the pleas as opportunity.

     The incident soured the festivities of the Homos for the day as the ship passed Tarawa on the way to the Line.

     The Teufelsdreck had just crossed the Equater the next morning as the crew rose for the day of games.  The process would take up the whole day.  The Shellbacks were in a high state of excitement at the prospect of having the Pollywog men completely at their mercy.  The attitude was that of the inside of an asylum for the criminally insane.

     Cook Bocuse started the festivities by presenting a rainbow breakfast.

page 880.

     Time magazine had recently published a study which showed that people wouldn’t eat food if it was presented to them in unfamiliar colors.  Thus Bocuse had dyed the potatoes purple, the eggs red and the colored the butter green.

     Most were good sports declaring they could not eat the food.  Dewey had read the article in Time so his mind was prepared.  He wolfed his down without trouble to the dismay of others who considered him a spoilsport.

     Perhaps, but Dewey was genuinely concerned about what the Homos would do.  The beating of Roberts and his own narrow escape loomed large in his mind.  He didn’t intend to willingly give anyone any pleasure.  Besides he knew that very very few of the Shellbacks had any right to the name.  It especially rankled him to be hazed by Kanary.

     After breakfast the Pollywogs were ordered to assemble in First Division.  Some spilled over into Engineering.  Some like Erect herded them along like some Nazi prison guard directing Jews into the ovens.

     Once assembled they were ordered to strip naked.  The Homos wanted to feast their eyes on those flopping dicks.  Now, initiation was voluntary not compulsory; two of the crew were too terrified to participate.  They had gathered on the boat deck.  Trueman at this point decided to join them. 

     ‘No!’ He announced.  ‘I am not going to strip naked. I’ll go up on the boat deck.’

     The instruction seemed a little too outre for others also as other voices announced they would not strip.

page 881.

     There was hurried consultatation at the head of the after hatch.  Duber, the leader of the homos, was stationed to get first crack at the men as they clambered out of the hatch.

     ‘Alreight you only have to strip down to your shorts.’  He announced foregoing the pleasure of seeing all those dicks flopping around and the delicious pleasure of flogging bare ass watching the welts rise.

     There were still subdued murmurs of protest but yeas exceeded nays so the Pollywogs went along.  At the very least they feared they would have to run a true gauntlet.  Their fears were well justified.

     Baxter and Basehart, two men from operations, who were friendly with Trueman were unable to bear the anxiety; they wanted to be first out.  They implored Trueman to join them but Dewey knew better.  All his experience at the Orphanage told him to wait till the end of the line when the Shellbacks would have expended most of their energy.  He tried to get the idea over to Baxter and Basehart but their anxiety was so great that they had to get it over with.

     The gauntlet, for gauntlet it was, had been devised by Duber, Erect, Costello, Kanary and a couple others.  All the Shellbacks were armed with four foot lengths of fire hose.  These weighed over five pounds.  The course was laid out from the after hatch up the port side, around the fo’c’sle and down starboard ending at the after K-gun before the Depth Charge racks.

     Duber stood at the top of the hatch.  A few feet from him stood his stooge, Peter Erect.  Erect was demented.  He had inserted a six inch long, three inch diameter lead weight into the bottom end of the hose and the six inch weight at the head should be obvious to anyone.  Beyond him stood another four men with hoses.

page 882.

     Midships about where the Quarterdeck would have been a tribunal had been set up where Proud Costello served as Magister Ludi.  A couple of the more criminal types familiar with prison had demanded a kangaroo court to try the Pollywogs.

     As the verdict was always ‘guilty’ the men proceeded to King Neptune personated by Paul Bocuse sitting on three stacked potato sacks by the galley door.  Bocuse’s prominent belly had been smeared with a foul tasting concoction of which Tobasco sauce was the most prominent item.  The condemned was made to kiss Neptune’s belly button.

     This was evil as the concoction was repellent.  You were advised to not kiss lightly or your face would be rubbed in the mess by Neptune.  Bocuse’s fly was also open so if he rubbed your face he pushed your head down on his dick.  Some men were wise enough to shove their faces into his belly button while most tried to get by lightly.  They suffered indignity.

     After the double hatches the ship was too narrow for any hosemen but as one rounded the fo’c’sle Kanary was positioned with a live fire hose and nozzle.  This was why he smiled at Trueman as lay down beside him.  The Navy has different nozzles for different purposes.  The flood nozzle is designed to disperse as much water as possible over the widest area to quench fires.  This nozzle is perforated to spread the water.  Capable of projecting water for a hundred feet it has great force.  If you have seen pictures of civil rights demonstrations where the hoses were turned on the demostrators knocking them down and rolling them down the street this is the type of nozzle used.

     A second type of nozzle is called the suicide nozzle.  This type earns its name from the fact that this nozzle tapers down from a three inch connection to a one inch opening.  This nozzle has concentrated and devastating force.  It is used to break up the center of fires dispersing the metal core.  If the flood nozzle can knock you down the suicide nozzle can tear you apart hence its name.  Now, Kanary proposed to use the suicide nozzle from four feet or less as hazing.  Sadism is not only part of homosexuality but so is insane brutal stupidity.  Fortunately Ractches’ informers got wind of this giving him the news.  Instead of taking control of the hazing which such activity would have warranted he merely warned Kanary not to use the suicide nozzle.

     Kanary was perhaps more demented than Erect.  As a spoiled only child he was skilled in devious means to have his way.  Having been warned he changed to the flood nozzle, which was crazy enough, but carried a suicide nozzle in his back pocket to use on Trueman.  One shudders.

     Continuing on down the starboard side after emerging from the wing hatches another line of men with hoses waited.  Abreast of the after three a fifteen foot chute had been laid out that was filled with brownish ‘shit.’  The chute greatly resembled what homosexuals call the ‘Slide’ or asshole.  Queers whaled on you with their hoses as you crawled through that.

     Completing the ordeal a huge vat five feet deep of brownish garbage and actual shit collected for a week  or so sat before the Depth Charge rack.  Completing the homosexual imagery the Pollywog was to jump in up to the neck presumable how Homos wish to enter the asshole.  Charming.

     Baxter and Basehart chose not to listen to Dewey’s experience.  Baxter shouted:  ‘I’m going first anyway.  I’ve got to get this over.’

     He was first up.  No matter how quickly you raced up the ladder you still had to turn to port as you climbed over the hatch lip.  As you did so Duber laid his best across your kidneys if he was on, higher of lower if he wasn’t.  In itself this was shocking.  Fresh for the slaughter of the innocents Duber laid his best directly across Baxter’s kidneys.  Baxter went temporarily blind from the shock preventing his clearly seeing Peter Erect.  He staggered toward the fiendishly howling Erect whose face was transported with sadistic pleasure.

     Pulling back in classic golf style Erect brought the hose down and up with all his considerable force with leverage.  The heavy lead weight crashed between Baxter’s legs driving his gonads back into his body as his pelvis gave way with a loud crack.

     Unable to believe his eyes Ratches watched from the bridge as his mouth gaped.  Peter Erect emitted barking shrieks of laughter as Baxter crumpled to the steel deck blazing under the heat of the equatorial sun.

    Before Ratches could react Basehart his eyes crossed from the force of Duber’s blow across his kidneys staggered up to Erect.  With his mouth open in howling delight Peter Erect delivered another destructive swing slightly high, it caught Basehart just at the top of the penis breaking the pelvis and rupturing the lower abdominal muscles.  He too crumpled to the steel inferno howling in pain.

 page 885.

     By this time Ratches had found his voice, shouting down to the fantail:  ‘Stop the proceedings, stop the proceedings.  Bring that man to the head.’

     Erect heard none of this.  He was in another world or so to say, out of his mind.  He was uninhibited; he had so sense of immorality; he knew a few truths about himself.  As far as he was concerned all laws were suspended.  He had been given carte blanche to indulge all his repressed homosexual hatreds.

     He stood slack jawed swinging his leaded hose in front of him as though it was his own very potent penis waiting for the next one.  He was quite prepared to put the entire contingent of Pollywogs down until a heap of bodies lay before him.

     Pardon and Ratman emerged from the hatch aft of the head to approach Erect from behind with due caution.  They had reason to be wary.  Pardon crept up directly behind Erect throwing a full nelson on him with dexterity.  Erect groaned, not from pain but because he was called back from euphoria.  The bliss vanished from his mind.  His glazed eyes hooded over as his mouth seemed to close over an imagined penis as he made several sucking motions.

page 886.

     ‘Erect.  Hey, Erect, are you there?’  Ratman asked anxiously.

     ‘Uh.’  Erect grunted as painful reality once again gripped his mind.  ‘What…What’s the matter, is it over?’  He spoke from behind the mists.

     ‘It is for you.  Come with us now.’  Ratman said taking the hose from Erect’s hand.

     Erect, mystified, allowed himself to be led off to the toilet while Dieter, Oiler and couple other chiefs and Firsts hurried to get the injured Baxter and Basehart off the burning deck and into bunks.

     ‘Hey, what the hell’s going on up there?  What’s the delay?’  Some snipe yelled up at Duber.  ‘Let’s go.’

     ‘Just be quiet.’  Duber whispered.  ‘Things have been held up for a while.  Just wait.’

     The face that Duber now presented to them had lost its sexual gloss betraying the beginning of a pensive realization that as Erect was his stooge he would be indirectly accountable for Erect’s actions.

     As he watched the painfully and critically injured, injured? crippled Baxter and Basehart loaded into makeshift blanket stretchers he had good reason for pause.  He had a sick feeling in the base of his stomach.

page 887.

     Erect was led into the head where Ratches awaited him in the washroom.  Ratches was trembling with rage and indignation.

     ‘What in the hell is wrong with you, man?’  He fairly shouted in unofficerial fashion.

    ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about Captian.’  Erect said sincerely and defensively.

     ‘You don’t know what I’m talking about?’  Ratches roared indignantly.  ‘My god, man, you almost killed those two men.  You would have crippled half my crew.’

     Erect put his hands on his hips belligerently:  ‘I didn’t do nothing wrong, Captain.  This is the Line.  Paul said this is where we get ours, there is no Law South of the Line.’

     ‘What?’  Ratches bellowed.

     ‘This is initiation.  I was within my rights.  Paul said this is where we get our justice.’

     ‘Keep him in the mess hall under watch until this is over.’  Ratches ordered Pardon and Ratman.  ‘Try to find out what he’s talking about and warn these men against a repetition of this.  Check the rest of those hoses to see if they’re leaded.’

     Going to the bridge he instructed Morford to check on Kanary.  Kanary had surreptitiously slipped the suicide nozzle on the hose.

     ‘Kanary, for Christ’s sake get that nozzle off there.  You’ll kill somebody.’  Somebody?  He would have killed anyone who got by Peter Erect.  He should have been removed but he reluctantly changed back to the flood nozzle putting the suicide nozzle in his pack pocket still hoping to use it on Trueman.

page 888.

     After two hour’s delay initiation began again.  By this time the rumor of Erect and his leaded hose had made the rounds although it was not made clear that he had been removed from the gauntlet.  Dewey sat on his locker in his underwear with his hand on his face wondering whether to risk the opprobrium of chickening out or submitting to the ordeal.  By the time a couple hours later that it got down to him and two others he decided to risk it.

     As he came up the ladder he heard someone say to Duber:  ‘Here he comes.’  But Duber had had several hours to think things over.  The meaning of the shattered lives of Baxter and Basehart was clear to him.  The plan of the initiation had been his; Erect was his bosom buddy.  His imagination dwelt on legal repercussions so he had lost much of his enthusiasm.

     As Trueman came up he turned away pretending to be preoccupied with some other matter.  As Trueman skipped over the edge of the hold Duber uttered a ‘damn’ pretending to have missed his opportunity but in reality sparing Trueman as he feared his testimony in any Court Martial.

     Out of range Trueman put his hands up to parry the leaded hose as he searched for Erect.  Realizing he was no longer there Trueman walked up to ‘Judge’ Proud Costello.  The men with hoses on the way to the tribunal were no longer swinging them.

     Sure that Erect and his leaded hose was no longer a danger Dewey relaxed enough to look around to get his bearings.  Conscious of his near nudity he was offended by the full dress of the so-called Shellbacks.  With the psychological insight of Nazis and Commies Duber had stripped the Pollywogs of parity and dignity.

page 890.

     Casting a glance at the two dark spots on the deck where Baxter and Basehart had fallen Dewey approached Costello with a certain amount of anger and hostility.  Trueman knew Costello had never been over the Line.  None of these guys had, hence they had no legal rights.  It was simply a case of favoritism; a favoritism which the Captain with his disdain of the enlisted man had sanctioned.

     Costello was no less transported than Erect.  Giddy with the power to insult the Pollywogs with impunity he was literally out of his mind, beside himself, as they say.

     ‘What do we have here, Bailiff?’  He exulted.

     ‘This is the criminal Dewey Trueman, Judge.’

     ‘Well, Trueman, you are accused of being generally offensive and of low character.  You are charged with having a big mouth and no respect for your betters.  In short, you are a asshole.  How do you plead?’

     Trueman looked at Costello with mingled contempt and distaste.

    ‘You haven’t ever been over the line, Costello.  You’re a cheat.’

     It was as though Costello was impervious to outside influence.

     ‘How do you plead?’

     Dewey was very reluctant to say guilty.  He scowled around.  His eyes were met by a smiling pair.  ‘If you don’t plead guilty you have to come over here and we beat you with our hoses until you do.  Dewey should have braved it because with two men down Ratches was in no mood for more brutality.  But Dewey gave in.  ‘Guilty’ he mumbled.

page 890

     ‘Yes, you are.  Proceed to Neptune and kiss his belly.’

     With a lingering wrathful glance at Costello Trueman stepped over to where Mike Deasy, one of the Radarmen, was kneeling before Bocuse trying to overcome his revulsion at the odious sentence.

     Deasy made the mistake of trying to lightly brush the belly button with the tips of fully extended lips.  With a laughing roar Bocuse grabbed his ears pulling his head forward as he rolled Deasy’s face from side to side in the ugly mess.  Then he slid Deasy’s face down to a very suggestive position just above his dick.

     Deasy in his turn let out a roar tearing away to the general merriment of the crowd.  Cursing Bocuse cum Neptune he nearly tripped on the lip of the first of the double hatches to the merriment of all, although if he fallen across the opposite lip there might have been a third seriously injured man to add to Baxter and Basehart.

     With Deasy’s example before him Trueman gritted his teeth, knelt down and rammed his nose into Bocuse’s belly button without pursing his lips.  Either his ruse worked or Bocuse took pity on him, at any rate Trueman pulled away without further indignity.

     When Ratches saw Trueman walk up to Costello he turned to Morford:  ‘Get down on the gun mount above your crazy Yeoman and make sure he doesn’t put on that suicide nozzle he’s got in his back pocket.  I’ve already got two injured men I won’t be able to explain.  I don’t want to have to add a dead one.’

page 891.

     Morford moved down to the three inch tub.  Kanary had been advised that Trueman would be right behind Deasy.  If Erect had been joyful in releasing his subconscious desires Kanary was morbid, angry and insane.  If Costello was beside himself, Kanary was calculatedly cruel.  Erect’s and Costello’s pleasure was internal; Kanary’s was external.  He wanted to see blood and gore.  He wanted to finish off his victims as they lay writhing in pain.

     He completely ignored Deasy as he hurried to unscrew the flood to get the suicide nozzle on.  He was in the process of screwing it on when Morford stepped to the front of the gun tub.  Bifrons didn’t care whether Kanary murdered Trueman but he didn’t want the resulting onus of having been on the ship where this had been allowed to happen.  He already shared the Captain’s discomfiture over the injured Operations men.

     ‘Put the flood nozzle back on, Kanary.  Did you hear me?  If you use that suicide nozzle you’ll turn twenty-one in prison, life without parole.’

     Morford’s argument had no effect on Kanary’s mind.  These fags thought they had a license to kill.  Fortunately he had the mind of the true subordinate.  Disciplined by the Party and respecting rank he reluctantly hurriedly began to change back to the flood nozzle.  Deasy skipped past him.  So would have Trueman if he hadn’t been so cautious.  Instead of racing by he walked up slowly not knowing what to expect.

page 892.

     Kanary got the flood nozzle on just as Trueman began to round the fo’c’sle.  With a cry of rage, his face distorted in a hatred that was justified by no act of Trueman’s he opened the nozzle leaping forward to get as close as he could.

    If you watched the newsreels the demonstrators were knocked off their feet and rolled down the street.  As the water hit Trueman he was pinned against the bulkhead by the force of the flood.  The water thudded against his body and face with bruising force.  Immobilized he felt as though he was drowning as indeed he was.  The water displaced all air around his head.

     He tried to push forward but the force of the water prevented him from moving.  Realizing he was drowning a feeling of desperation came over him.  Thinking quickly he realized that since he couldn’t go forward his only chance was to slide along the bulkhead to get free.  Fortunately this proved relatively easy to do as the bulkhead was lubricated by the flood.  Once he got the force of the water to his left side it pushed him along.

     He emerged from the flood to the sight of Kanary’s distorted face, jaw down, lips curved toward his chin Kanary was screaming obscenities.  Only the alertness of Ratches had prevented his murdering Trueman.

     This was the same man who in twenty years or so would be tramping through the streets of San Francisco tracking down ‘Homophobes’ with charges of discrimination.  This despicable master hater would sublimate his bitter anger into ‘hating people who hate.’

page 894.

     Trueman cast a backward glance at this demonically possessed little homosexual then continued on his way.  Bifrons Morford with a waondering shake of the head returned to the bridge.

     Pausing at the starboard double hatches Dewey caught his breath while surveying the remaining gauntlet.  What remained ahead was a row of twelve hose swinging maniacs, the Slide and the tub.  With a skip and a hesitation step Dewey eluded the first six ‘swingers’ who had lost much of their enthusiasm anyway.

     The other half dozen men were gathered around the Slide where they could belabor the backs of the men as they crawled through the sludge.  Entering the ‘Slide’ was like crawling up an asshole.  Coming out the other end Dewey was told that he had to get into the huge tub of refuse up to his neck which he did.

     As he got out the last two men followed along behind him. 

     Now the consequences would begin.

     Trueman snarled over at Duber who had been in a state of shock for some time fearful of the consequences of the criminal acts of his buddy, Peter Erect.  The stains left by the two crippled bodies were still visible.

     The crew would divide in halves along the lines of Pollywogs and so-called Shellbacks.  Trueman would continue loud in his anger at being beaten by men who had no right to be beating him.  Others too would press their inquiries to find they had been defrauded.  The onrushing course of events would obliterate or dull much of the animosity but resentments would be playing out months later.

page 894.

     Life requries one to quell one’s resentments or go mad or criminal so Dewey did not dwell on the injustice after a couple weeks but the incident left a deep dark impression on his subconscious.  In later years he would have dreams in which this incident formed a part.  The complete image was far too complex to go into here but immediate components can.  One sequence of dreams involved his appearing naked or in his underpants in critical situations.  Another was simply of a barren field with a house on the left and a quivering brown spot in the earth beside it.

     The house was of course a symbol of Trueman while part of the image of the brown spot was formed by the intent of the ‘Slide’ and the well of garbage.  The psychology implied by them was quite profound.

     Kanary and his fire hose recurred in a variety of urination dreams in which Trueman had to urinate badly but the toilets were all stopped up and overflowing.  And Trueman’s contempt for homosexuals never lost its intensity.

     Trueman’s reactions were trifling compared to the two men Erect had crippled for life.  They were seriously injured.  Gotten to their bunks they were sedated with what morphine was aboard ship.  the pitching and rolling of the ship was excruciatingly painful  as their shattered pelvic bones rubbed together.

     These were not the days when ships had helicopter pads so that men could be lifted off and taken to hospital.

pagfe 895.

     It was hoped that they would be able to be doctored at Pago Pago but their injuries were so severe that the medical facilities there were not adequate.

      The squadron was originally to have proceeded from Pago Pago to Fiji but that would be abandoned to take a straight run into Brisbane where the men could get medical attention.  Thus for two weeks they lay in their bunks writhing in pain.

     The incident did the Teufelsdreck no honor in the eyes of the Commodore aboard the Desade.  The Teuf was already the black sheep of the squadron.  The Commodore began to look at Ratches and his first command askance.

     Ratches himself was in a quandary.  As a fair man the only person he was unfair to was himself.  He should have court-martialed Erect and Duber plus Kanary but partially because little more could be expected of them as ‘men’ and sub-humans and partially because by men’s rules the initiation had been part of the hazing and partially so as not to embarrass himself and his ship he let it slide officially.  But Ratches was a canny man with a sense of ‘justice.’

     He was still brooding in his cabin when Samoa hove into view. 

     The South Seas.  How may they be described?  Pago Pago was a beautiful place; real Paul Cezanne stuff.  At the time the islands still looked as paradisical as they did in nineteenth century missionary times, real Sadie Thompson.  Not far from the equator the island is perpetually unbearably hot.  The water in the lagoon was over 70 degrees.  The entry was up a long cloaca into a belly that formed the central valley of the island.  At this season of the year a perpetual breeze blew down the mountains behind the bay over the depression making the heat not only bearable but delightful.

page 896.

     At the time there was only a Standard Oil refueling station and some official buildings.  The Samoans lived in huts doing God only knows what.  Taking life easy perhaps.  The Captain prepped the crew about maintaining good relations with the Samoans.  In an attempt to keep the sailors away from the women they were advised of the danger of elephantiasis which all the women supposedly carried.  Elephantiasis, of course, is when the gonads swell up to a size requiring a wheelbarrow for transport.  All of the local men were apparently abstinent since wheelbarrows were not conspicuous.  Ratches threw in a couple other hideous diseases and let it go at that.

     Ratches first need was to find hospitalization for his two crippled men.  The facilities of Pago Pago were inadequate to treat their injuries.  This was before the age of the big jetliners that could fly nonstop from sea to sea so there were no commercial flights into Pago Pago,  at least on a scheduled basis.  The only other flights were run by Standard and they were not only infrequent but the company was unwilling to take responsibility for the two men.

     Thus the squadron’s visit in this tropical paradise was cut from three days to one while the Figi visit was skipped and the squadron was to make a high speed run to Australia.

page 897.

     Needless to say the Commodore blamed and privately cursed Ratches.  The Captain in turn privately cursed Duber, Erect and Kanary.  He was even indiscreet enough to mutter terms like ‘criminally insane’ where they were heard and reported.  As Kanary was included he was alarmed and took it ill.  Convinced of his own purity Kanary could only transfer the blame for his actions to Trueman.  Kanary reasoned quite inaccurately that had Trueman not been there he would not have acted as he did.  But Trueman was there and Kanary’s potential for insane criminal violence did exist.  While consciously he could not admit to this evil side of himself it gnawed away at him from his subconscious.

     Except that Ratches had prevented him, he and Erect in civilian circumstances would have been guilty of criminally insane crimes.  Only the environment of men aboard ship prevented their legal condemnation.

     Devoting himself to explaining to the Commodore and trying to help his injured sailors Ratches granted the ship liberty prior to sailing the next morning.

     One would think  that Duber, Erect and Kanary had enough troubles without plotting further to dispose of Trueman.  Kanary’s hatred was unreasoning.  His sense of responsibility was so weak that he must have been willing to go to prison in order to satisfy his hatred of Trueman.

     Duber had somehow developed the opinion that there was no law below the Line.  Perhaps he had seen one too many John Wayne movies.  But he seriously thought that any act was permissable to him in the South Seas.  His intelligence was so feeble that he thought that if he eliminated Trueman the Captain would let matters drop.

page 898.

     The Japanese had fortified Samoa.  As they usually did they excavated mazes of tunnels in the hills to hide from the shelling.  These caves were amazingly effective and still in existence.  It was rumored that one could still find war memorabilia in them.  Trueman was interested in visiting them.  They were on the other side of the lagoon which necessited a long walk to the head of the lagoon and around.  That posed no problem for Trueman.  He didn’t even do much more than a double take when Duber, Erect and Kanary invited him to accompany them.  The plan was to get him over there, kill him and leave the body.  They reasoned that by the time he was missed they would be far at sea and the matter would be allowed to drop, he would just be AWOL.

     While Trueman was doing his double take he was approached by Shakey Jake Brook who advised him that he wouldn’t go anywhere with those guys.  Something in Shaky Jake’s earnestness raised images of the crossing of the Line which tipped Dewey into saying no.  He was suprised at the hostility his No raised in Duber and Erect.  As soon as Kanary heard that he wasn’t going he hurriedly dressed to go ashore to poison Trueman’s reception.

     Thus by the time Trueman found his way to the open air market where the Samoans sold their foodstuffs he was given a very hostile reception by the natives as Kanary stood by grinning.

page 899.

     It takes only a few obvious words to groups sensitive to criticism such as Jews, the various colored folks, homosexuals, feminists and the like to prejudice them against anyone.  Kanary had simply said:  ‘See that guy coming?  He thinks Samoans are ignorant savages.’  Such slanderers are always taken at their word so no questions were asked.

     So Trueman was confronted with the inexplicable hostility of people he had never seen but who seemed to know him and dislike him.  The obvious question to put to oneself is ‘What’s wrong with me?’  What’s wrong with you is that your slanderer doesn’t like you.  You’re a lucky man if you can externalize this pressure.  By far more people internalize it searching for a shortcoming rather than looking for a slanderer.

     Trueman noticed Kanary standing by glowering with a vengeful smile.  He moved off only to be followed by Kanary.

     Kanary was queer to the bone, he had no shame, all chutzpah.

     ‘Why don’t you go off by yourself, Kanary?  Stop following me around.’

     ‘Following you around!  Don’t flatter yourself, Trueman.  Nobody’s following you around.’

     ‘Well, then just go ahead.  I’ll let you get out of sight.’

     ‘I don’t do what you tell me.’

     There’s nothing legal you can do with a queer with no shame.

     Trueman wandered around looking at the buildings with Kanary dogging his steps.  One would say that Kanary had no life of his own but as a homosexual men were his life.  Part of his frustration was a sexual desire for Trueman.  Having no legitimate way to court another man he had turned his lust into hatred.  By making a persistent nuisance of himself he hoped to break Trueman down so that he would let Kanary screw him just to get rid of him.  That’s the homosexual’s central problem; if you can’t screw ’em one way, screw ’em another.

page 900

End Of Clip V-2.  Proceed to Clip V-3.



I’m now going to put up a section of my very long novel Our Lady Of The Blues.  The novel concerns my Navy years.  This section is about our Pacific Cruise from September of 1957 to March of 1958.  I have told it as was without concessions to current prejudices.  This cruise was a young man’s dream as we covered the Pacific from Hawaii to Hong Kong, Australia to Japan.  Like any other novel it has its joys and sorrows, comedy and tragedy.  I’m sure the cruise was the high point of all our young lives.


Approximately 400 pages.  As usual I will post 10 pages a day and proofread the following day.  Begun on 7/19/07.  Clips will be of 50 pages each. 

I hope any readers will enjoy the story.

Thank you.


Our Lady Of The Blues


R.E. Prindle

Part V.

From Gaia To Maia


     The Teufelsdreck turned its poop to the rising sun  moving out over the vast expanses of the broad Pacific Ocean.   The ship had embarked on what should have been a magnificent adventure for all aboard.  For most it was just another day in their life in the Navy.

     The entire tour would cover some forty thousand miles and scores of latitudes and longitudes.  The tour would rival the peregrinations of that flighty sailor, Herman Melville, and far eclipse the meager voyage of the gentleman dilittante, Richard Henry Dana, who slummed with us ordinary seamen before the mast.

     The itinerary of the Teufelsdreck would zig-zag across the wide pacific from the US to China, drop down to Australia and back up to Japan.  The ship would touch at Kwajalein, Tarara, Samoa, pass through the Coral Sea and by Guadalcanal and Bougainville, on to Subic Bay on the Bataan Peninsula, cruise past Corregidor into Manila Bay and sail by many other landmarks of the Pacific War.

page 802.

     The climate would range from balmy tropical waters to freezing typhoons off Japan.  There was the Great Barrier Reef off Australia, the wonders of Blowfish and tropically colored fish that passed the bounds of imagination.  The Navy slogan was:  Join the Navy and see the world.  This tour was the very best that the Navy had to offer.  It was an opportunity that very, very few in private life have ever had.  All these sites were still exotic not yet brought within the realm of modern communications.  McDonald’s had as yet been barely thought of;  the notion that it would ever plaster exotica with its plastic signs would have brought hoots of derision.  The South Pacific was not the paradise it had once been but the chain saw had not yet begun to level the great tropical jungles.

     The great adventure of seeing legendary far away places was augmented by the adventures both ashore and aboard ship among the one hundred eighty-six men of the crew.  All the rivalries and hatreds, the sociological developments begun in the States continued at sea.  All the subliminal urges kept more or less in control within the order of civilized society were unpent in the long voyage on the plane of Maia which led to startling developments which were unheard of in the rest of the fleet.

     Perhaps the situation of the Teufelsdreck sailing the plane between the depths of the sea and the bowl of the sky approximated too closely the globe of the human mind with its permeable plane separating the conscious and the subconscious.  With Gaia replaced by the vessel of the Teufelsdreck floating lonely in the sea the men’s minds sought unusual outlets.

page 803.

     A ship is called a ‘she’ because it is a vessel, a steel womb in which one’s life is lived.  As in a womb there is little contact with the outside world; all nourishment comes from within.  This is the way the world was born.  All was chaos and then there was a wind on the water.

     If one examines Middle Eastern creation myths, the most well known being that of Genesis, it becomes apparent that what is being described is not the creation of the world but man’s apprehension of it.  the tale is of the dawn of consciousness and not the creation of the world.

     As an infant the author was placed on his back in his crib outside the bedroom door in the living room.  He lay there day after day looking blankly at the incoherent lines and planes of the room that made up his world.  Then one day, it takes only a few seconds, a miracle occurred.  All of a sudden the lines and planes resolved themselves into angles and surfaces.  In just a moment disorganized lines and angles became right angles joined together in such clever fashion that they formed walls and ceiling.  The round dull glow took the shape of a lamp.  Indeed, the gray haze vanished and there was light.  The author’s world was transformed forever.  A ‘flood’ had obliterated his former world.

page 804

     Let us compare the creation myth:  In the beginning their was only chaos.  All existence was mixed up together; nothing was differentiated.  Then there was a wind on the water that separated the firmament from the sea.  So now we see that things weren’t exactly confused, the sky actually rested on the water.  The water of the subconscious, the sky of the conscious.  Quite correctly man has always identified the subconscious as female and water, the sky as spiritual and male.  Now light was separated from darkness with which it had been commingled.  The earth, or plane on which we live was separated from the water and heaped on one side, or, right lobe, left lobe.  the sun, the moon and stars came into existence, then the plants and animals and finally man, the recognition of self.

     Then, most importantly, it was necessary that everything had names so that they could be identified.  So the first man, Adam, went around naming each creation as he touched it.

     As a creation myth that is rather silly but it does accurately describe the dawn of consciousness.  After perhaps millions of years wandering around without a clue man understood in a flash who he was and where he stood.  His eyes were opened.  He stepped from the Garden of Eden to which he could never return into a world where mere animal passions would no longer make it, he would have to be reborn.  The details of the memory of the life he had left were effaced as though by a great flood which had risen up and engulfed the past.  Each survivor was born again.

page 805.

     From then on progression into full consciousness advanced at a dizzying pace.  It became apparent to Man, ignorant of what it all meant, half crazed by his conflicting emotions, that he would have to learn everything and do it fast.  Thus against a background of perhaps millions of years, within ten thousand years man rose from early consciousness to the full consciousness of science heralded psychologically by Freud.

     Yet Freud discovered nothing.  It was just that one day his eyes were opened and he was able to give names to everything that had been known for thousands of years.  Our ancestors were not a bunch of stupid oafs, not all of them anyway, else how could we claim intelligence?  They were very perceptive men but lacked the science to express themselves except in symbolic terms.  Besides which, had they spoken openly their less perceptive fellows would have murdered them for disturbing the peace, as was Socrates to name only the most prominent example.

     We have already discussed some of the symbolism but to make the next segment of my story intelligible it will be necessary to discuss a few others and try to put my concept of psychology in order.

     I have already broached the subject of the X and y chromosomes which form the basis of human identity.  I have posited that the Ancients were familiar, indeed, articulated the concept in mythical or symbolic terms.  Now to elaborate.

     Science in the last few decades has been able to demonstrate conclusively the physical basis of the beliefs of the Ancients.  It only remains to identify them with the ideas of Depth Psychology and take it a step further.

page 806.

     The marriage of the two chromosomes is found in the DNA helix.  Physically this forms a unit that extends from the gonads or ovaries up the spine and out the brain stem.  Anchored in the the ‘materiality’ of the reproductive organs the upper end makes possible the ‘spiritual’ apparatus of Man.  The upper ends are not anchored in the brain as the lower are in the reproductive organs but, as it were flap loose forming the Anima and Animus.  Very probably in horned animals the horns are material representations of the Anima and Animus.

     The brain which was apparently at first merely a functional unit later developed a midbrain and then expanded again to include the frontal lobe which to this point in time has completed the cranial development of man.

     This is the animal.  This is what is meant by the sexual entity.  It has nothing to do with sexual intercourse as Freud was given to imagine.  Sex is something different than sexual.  There is no amount of fucking, as Freud thought, that will improve the human psyche.

      However any challenges to his sexual identity, or what the French call Amour Propre will result in expression through the sexual apparatus which involves aggression and which may include fucking as a means of vengeance or dominance to recover one’s amour propre or to demostrate one’s superiority.  Thus Greek vase painting show the Greek conquerors of the Persian War sticking it up the ass of submissive Persian captives.  Many forms of violence are merely a surrogate form of fucking.

page 807.

     Sexual aggression is only the form of the external response.  There are also internal responses.  Internal responses to unanswerable challenges are passed along the Power Train from brain to gonads taking the form of complexes.  These unaswerable challenges form in the subconscious as fixations.  For every fixation there is a corresponding somatic or psychological affect.  Thus just as every mole has its twin in a corresponding place of the body every fixation has a corresponding somatic affect.  The entire range of psychosomatic affects from rashes, asthma, sinuses, ulcers, stuttering, timidity and what have you can be cured simply by finding the corresponding fixation and removing it.

     The Ancients had several symbols that clearly demonstrate an understanding of the Power Train if not the psychology.  They could sense and know of this physical reality without being able to express it in scientific terms.

     One of the symbols was the water lily.  In one famous representation, the bulbs, which are rooted in the earth are portrayed virtually as two gonads.  The stalks intertwining rise up from the bulbs through the spinal water until the flower or brain bursts into bloom in the ‘spiritual’ air supported by the leaf floating on the surface of the water.

     A second example is the Caduceus of Hermes.  This symbol is most clear of all since the concept of spirituality has not been introduced into it.  Two snakes entwine around a central staff.  Their tails oppose each other at the bottom.  The symbolism of the coils entwining about the staff need not detain us although the double helix of DNA is implied.  At the top the heads of the two snakes face each other like combative cobras clearly representing the conflict between the Anima and Animus.  Undoubtedly one snake is spermatic while the other is ovate.

 page 808.

     Or, as I interpret Freud, they are what he chose to call the Ego and Libido.  As an intelligent medical investigator it should have been impossible for Freud to miss this relationship to the physical entity but the knowledge was not yet available to connect them with physiology.

     The Caduceus may have been derived from the Egyptian symbol called the Uas Scepter.  This is a staff with a curious prong at the bottom which must represent the reproductive organs.  The head has two prongs one going left, the other right.  The meaning of the Uas Scepter changes when it is held in the right or left hand.

     Ancient man was always at war with himself as the two combative snakes of the Caduceus imply.  The raging bull of the y chromosome contended with the X of Athene or whatever female image clothed it.  Spiritual education was intended to help a man bring this raging bull under control.  Woman was expected to place her heel on the head of the snake of her spermatic chromosome thus bringing it under control.

     Before discussing fixations let us consider the role of the intellect and intelligence.  Freud denied completely the role of the intellect while completely dismissing the effect of intelligence before the power of what he called the ‘instincts.’

page 809.

     The conscious and subconscious is formed by the interlocking of the subconscious, the intellect and the intelligence.

     The intellect forms an intermediary between the sub-conscious and the intelligence.  Once formed and allowed to solidify it makes the character and intelligence rigid.

     All of the information going into the infant and childhood mind combines to form the intellect.  All of this teaching of parents and society from which the young mind has no defense or means of interpretation or contradiction is accepted as gospel.  It is there that national characters are formed.  The Jewish intellect, the Christian or Moslem intellect, the national intellects are all embedded in the individual’s intellect.

     It is actually impossible to change one’s religious or national character after it has been formed.  Only in the very rarest of instances could a Chinese intellect, for instance, be converted to an American or vice versa.  Thus Chinese emigrants wherever they are must always remain Chinese unless brought up from birth within a different culture in which case they would only look Chinese.  It is virtually and may be actually impossible to learn another national or religious intellect outside the milieu of infancy.  Thus one’s Weltanschauung is fixed from childhood on.  All education will be brought into conformation with it.

     Intelligence will dispel the most egregious ethno-centric beliefs as in the saying:  Travel is broadening.  A person may be able to make room in his intellect for a comprehensive range of beliefs but the mind is inelastic: in the end he will return to his national and religious intellect no matter how he transforms his education.

page 810.

     In addition one’s parents and friends will fill the intellect with much matter, most of it tripe.  If lucky, intelligent parents will load you with intelligent matter; if not, if you are intelligent you will have to devote a great deal of time to cleaning out the rubbish.  Anything in conflict with demonstrable reality can be converted much as a fixation.

     The more you revere your parents, friends and family the more fixed, rigid and unalterable your intellect will be.  Thus as the English say of the Scotch:  The only way you can get a new idea in their head is to saw open their skull and toss it in.  Or. like father, like son.

     The more active your intelligence the better equipped you are to improve your intellect and manage your subconscious.

     For a seriously fixated subconscious will control an inflexible intellect and distort one’s intelligence.  Intelligence is devinitely the weakest of the three.  By intelligence I don necessarily mean the ability to compute or manage information.  Much mental disease is not really disease but an inflexible concretized intellect which will not adjust to reality.

     Freud’s organization of the mind can be largely discarded.  There is no Id or Unconscious, his Ego and Libido theory are incomplete and all the complexity he finds is non existent.  There is only the conscious and subconscious.  The conscious is the Intellect and Intelligence while the subconscious is undivided.  All fixation are in the subconscious.  In Freud’s terms the spermatic chromosome is repressed while the ovate is fixated, which seems possible.  He related this condition to neuroses in genral and to hysteria in particular.  Since we will be dealing with hysterics it would be appropriate to discuss the formation of neuroses and psychoses.

page 811.

     No child is born with either.  They are all acquired.  When a Challenge is presented to the Power Train of the individual he must deal with it successfully or not.  If he handles it successfully there is no damage to one’s amour propre.  But if he fails his mind must compensate for his inability to meet the Challenge.  A fixation or lesion occurs in his mind.  His failure may turn into an external rage as he tries to destroy the damage or it may be internalized.  In any case the fixation becomes encysted in his subconscious.  There is no problem with this if the Challenge is merely being placed on the back burner until the person resolves the Challenge.  This may happen within an hour or days.  When he successfully resolves the Challenge the encysted fixation disappears and he returns to normal.

     Some fixations are well beyond the person’s ability to ever successfully respond to them.  The central childhood fixation is primary of these.  If this can be uncovered and faced then all other fixations can be eliminated and the mind made whole.  There will be fixations of lesser importance scattered through the subconscius or there may be clusters of lesser fixations hidden behind a greater fixation that represents their class.  It is only necessary to express them to make them disappear.

     The central childhood fixation will be protected and nursed most carefully by the psyche.  It is almost impossible to get at it and remove it because the Challenge that caused it was so extreme for the individual and his response so inadequate that he cannot bear to face it again.  Besides, in a perverse way he has learned to love it.  He is afraid to be without it.

page 812.

     This central childhood fixation is the controlling factor of the person’s identity.  It will distort all the information in the intellect for its benefit.  In competition with the intelligence it will swamp the intelligence and prevail against the person’s better judgement and will.

     All the irrational reactions of the person are caused by his fixations.  They are reflected on the Anima and Animus. 

     Those irrational reactions or madnesses can be removed if they can be identified and dealt with successfully by using superior intelligence and experience:  If they can be faced.

      Finding them is realtively easy but facing them may prove to be an impossible task even if they can be learned or identified by a psychologist and explained to the subject.

     Now, a problem is going to develop, a very serious problem in the story, with the homosexuals aboard ship versus the straights.  As homosexuals their central childhood fixation had fixated their Anima and repressed their Animus.  In other words, hysteria is the normal state of the homosexual.  Homosexuality is caused by a hysterical reaction to  an unaswerable Challenge to their amour propre: in other words, their emasculation.  The child is sexually abused by a man and responds sexually by becoming a homosexual.

page 813.

     In addition to this, because of the guilt they feel by being less manly and the rejection of society they experience they also become perverted.  As hysterics they adopt a sado-masochistic persona.  Contrary to Freud neither sadism or masochism are ‘instincts’, they are affects.

     Our ostensible hero, Dewey Trueman, was also an hysteric.  Indeed, quite so.  While not a homosexual he was fixated and repressed while attacked by a degree of emasculation expressed in a latent homosexuality.  In certain circumstances he was quite mad.  His central childhood fixation caused by Yisraeli in his persona of David Hirsh formed the basis of his personality while his repressed Animus denied him full use of his manly powers so that he appeared sexually ambiguous to a degree.

     Thus inthe grip of the watery ocean, afloat on a sea of troubles, the little Teufelsdreck sailed forth to its destiny at the island, that little speck of land in the broad Pacific called Guam.

     The feel of leaving the land behind was much different than the usual day trip of maneuvers.  There was a finality, a separation, the umbilical cord was cut.  It seemed that the men of the crew reverted to an anterior form of consciousness.  Dewey himself felt his mind engulfed by the waves; a sort of tranquillity unknown on land embraced his mind as he stood on the deck of the floating island suspended as it were between the sea and the sky.

     The trip began as a journey of revelations for Dewey, which was to characterize it throughout.  The first and the second revelations were provided by Dart Craddock.

page 814.

     As they passed the stern of the aircraft carrier Ranger on the west side of North Island, Dart said:  ‘They’ve got a Special Weapons officer aboard the Ranger.’

     ‘What Special Weapons might they be?’

     ‘IT.  They keep an Atom Bomb in readiness aboard.  They’ve got a designated officer to look after it.’

     ‘Why would they have an Atom Bomb on board?’  Dewey asked naively.  He believed the propaganda that the good Christian gentlemen of the US Government would never use the Bomb except in dire necessity, if then.

     ‘I don’t know.  What do you think?’  Dart laughed.

     There were few people who realized how extensively the Bomb was being tested.  Latterly we learn there were over twelve hundred Bombs exploded with three hundred of them in the atmosphere.  Over nine hundred subterranean tests.  Dewey believed that perhaps only six or eight atmospherics had been conducted although had he used both fingers and toes he would have come up with more from memory.

     The nuclear holocaust was more of a reality than a fear.  About five hundred miles off shore Dart stepped up to Dewey saying with a smile:  ‘This must be the place.’

     Dewey looked blankly at the cresting waves touching the horizon in every direction:  ‘Place for what?’

     ‘Get this!  A while back they suspended a submarine just below the surface then exploded an Atom Bomb two miles down just to see what the effect on the submarine would be.’

page 815.

     ‘Ahhh, no.  Why would they do that?  Man, you saw the destruction the depth charges caused.  Just imagine what an Atom Bomb two miles deep would do.’

     ‘Just imagine.’  Dart replied ironically.

     ‘Supposing it’s true.  How do you know all this stuff.’

     ‘Oh, I just keep my eyes and ears open.’  Dart smiled sauntering off.

     Maybe that mushroom shaped cloud was too much for the mind of Man.  Maybe it was the ultimate phallus, the erection to end all erections that so fascinated the military mind.  Maybe it made them feel like real men to set off such awesome power.  Of what use could it be to explode bomb after bomb.  Once theory and practice converged why keep doing it?

     Surely there was enought theory to predict the success of the H-Bomb; yet they destroyed Eniwetok and most probably all life within a two hundred mile radius from ground to stratosphere.  The Hydrogen bomb must have exceeded their phallic fantasy because they never tried it again.

     As Dewey stood on the deck mulling this over movies like The Incredible Shrinking Man and A Giant Crab Comes Forth began to make more sense to him.  In fact the whole genre of atomic mutation movies would make him uneasy in the future.

     But for now the laughing dolphins springing from the sea impressed his mind as much as they did the ancient mariners.  Was it any wonder that one of these beasts was chosen to lead the Cretan priests to Delphi.  Living below the limes of consciousness yet springing repeatedly into the bright air these wonderful animals must have represented their viewers mental condition.  Living as they did with minds submerged beneath the conscious level only rising from time to time into clearheadedness what a simile these smiling half-fish half-animals part human appearing must have seemed to them.

page 817.

     Dewey was not conscious of the reasons for his fascination with them but his admiration was based on the same principle.  How he longed to leap from the water into the bright clear air of consciousness and stay there.

Twenty-Six Hundred Miles Across The Sea

     As the ship breached the waves beginning its incessant pitch and roll Ensign Grant Shaffer sat with the open box containing a million dollars before him.  A million in twenties, tens, fives and ones makes a considerable pile, one that appears inexpendable to one who has never sat in front of a million in cash before.

     The sight of the cool million had also stunned the Second Class Disbursing Clerk, Ezio Ponzi.  The course taken by Shaffer might never have been taken but the prodding of Ezio Ponzi.  It was he who concocted the scheme.

     Dazzled by the prospects of this amazing incredible tour of the Pacific he could only lament that he wouldn’t have the money to take full advantage of it.  Or would he?

     An incredible notion took possession of his mind driving out all reason before it.  The money in the Box looked inexhaustible, therefore it was.  If, Ponzi reasoned, he could persuade the men to take advances against their next paychecks then if they would rebate half back he would not record the advance thus ensuring they received a full paycheck on payday.

page 818.

     Obviously he couldn’t do it alone.  He would have to have the complicity of Ensign Shaffer.  It is to be imagined that there would be a great many bookkeepers who woud shrink from the very idea of suggesting such a course to their superiors.

     Ezio Ponzi was not sophisticated enough to be one of these.  He was an Italian boy from the Five Points in Manhattan.  On his home turf where such things were discussed as a matter of course, his gang and Ponzi were ignorant of the principles of double entry bookkeeping.  Neither they nor he understood the concept of the paper trail.  In the Five Points you got away with it once the deed was done.

     Ponzi himself had joined the Navy in 1946 when he first realized Italy had lost the war.  He wanted to be on the winning team.  Contrary to popular belief a large part of the Italian population remained loyal to Italy.  Of all the immigrants the Italians were most frequently birds of passage.  For many decades in the nineteenth century they had been migrant workers in Europe going North for the summer while returning South for the winter.  Then they added Argentina and Brazil to their itinerary.  With the improvements in marine transportation this became much easier.  Then in 1890 they included New York on their itinerary.  As the main intent was to make enough money to support themselves in Sicily for the winter almost as many returned each year as arrived.  As no passports were required at the time a regular criminal circuit developed around the Atlantic ports of the New and Old Worlds.

page 818.

          Many Anglo-Americans complained of this evident criminality among the Italians but ever sensitive to ‘racism’ the Liberal Coalition told them to shut up their prejudiced mouths.  The fact that organized crime became an Italian monopoly did not dissuade Liberals from this attitude.

     At any rate Italian immigrants never ceased thinking of themselves as Italians.  More or less trapped in America by the outbreak of the Great War and the restrictions placed on immigration in 1920 the Italian colonies were part of America.  The great Atlantic migratory circle was broken.

     The Five Points and Brooklyn were truly Italian colonies.  The colony controlled the docks of New York.  The perceived threat of sabotage to shipping by Italians in WWII was so great that the US Government approached the incarcerated arch-criminal Lucky Luciano to plead for his intercession with his paisanos to prevent such disturbances.  Whether the help of Luciano was needed or not as a reward he was paroled from prison to be repatriated to Sicily.

     The boys in the Five Points were suitably impressed.  ‘Who says crime don’t pay.’  Ezio Ponzi muttered as he donned the dress blues of the winner.  During his eleven years or so of service Ponzi had always been into petty graft.  He carried the Navy tradition of cumshaw to greater heights.

page 819.

     Now his moment had come.  Ponzi hadn’t finished Junior High while Ensign Shaffer had graduated from the University of Michigan.  No two intellectual traditions could have been more different than those of Ponzi and Shaffer yet the Ensign without blinking acceded to Ponzi’s plan.

     Shaffer had had to work his way through school as his presence in the N.R.O.T.C. indicated.  He had always been strapped for cash while his friends lived high, or so it seemed.  He was often dependent on their largesse.  Now he could distribute his own largesse with an open hand and be paid for it.  The temptation was too great for his judgement.

     Teal Kanary, who had his nose in everything was recruited to spread the good word.  Proud Costello was included for added weight and respectability as was Lt. Bifrons Morford.  Lt. Sieggren, the third of the officerial Three Musketeers stood aloof but reluctant to deter his friends.  Could this be construed as a conspiracy to defraud the government?

     Thus the crew of the Teufelsdreck set off on one hell of a tour.  Every  Man Jack who wanted it had pay and half while Shaffer and his bunch had money up the wazoo.

     Wazoo or yazoo was a Navy term for an unidentified part of the human body in which it was desirable to store things.

     Some did not participate.  Fortunately for the Blacks prejudice excluded them from the benefits of the Ponzi scheme.  Some few others including Trueman saw through the scheme refusing to participate.

page 820

Hopes, Dreams And Schemes

     The emergence of the Black Civil Rights Movement was already giving ideas to the homosexuals.  If Blacks could hope to liberate themselves from the oppression of a hostile society why couldn’t homos?  A ripple of protest went through society.

     Aboard the Teufelsdreck as soon it as it put to sea a homosexual conclave gathered each night in an unused compartment adjoining after steering.  Directly behind First Division was a fairly large compartment containing a barber’s chair which served as the barber shop.  Behind that was a small room containing the after steering helm.  The Navy always has backup systems.  In case the bridge was hit during war destroying the helm, steering could be done in after steering which was just above the rudder.  On the port side was this unused compartment.

     Every night of the tour the group of homosexuals gathered, by invitation only, in this compartment.  It was hinted that because the crew was denied access to women at sea relief could only be gotten from each other.  The men ‘had’ to do it.

     The argument that men turn to each other from lack of women is a rather flimsy one.  A man who is not a homosexual does not turn to men in any circumstances.

page 821.

Literary Matters

     The blue covered book passed to Teal Kanary on the day of departure was a review copy of Jack Kerouac’s On The Road.  The Revolution shares control of the publishing industry.  The saying is that all things are pemitted the Revolution while all things are denied the counterrevolution.

     As the senior partner the Revolution shares out its censorship capabilities to the Jews, Homosexuals and Feminists.  Kerouac was to deny that he was a Communist yet he hung out with professed Communists.  He also denied he was a homosexual yet the same group was openly homosexual.  Allen Ginsberg was even a proselytizer for the ‘lifestyle.’  He openly advocated child sex.

     At any rate On The Road promotes a Communist point of view and homosexuality.  It had the advantage of dealing with the rank and file.  It was at the same time a fine literary achievement while being proletarian, if not criminal, in attitude.

     As noted before the Communist element controlled literary matters aboard ship pretty effectively.  Reading is hard work.  Most people don’t like to do it so the book quickly made the rounds of readers or, at least, men who said they read it, sometimes in a matter of only a couple hours.  Craddock made sure Trueman had a chance to read it which Dewey did.

page 823.

     The book made a tremendous impression of those who read it.  They revered it almost as a bible.  They seemed to think it related directly to their lives.  Dean Moriarty was an especial hero to them.

     Dewey just thought of the characters as small time grifters and drug addicts who had no resemblance to his life or aspirations.  Perhaps therein lies a clue to the kind of people among which he was forced to live.

     In order to read something passably enjoyable which would pass Red censorship Dewey was reduced to reading Science Fiction.  SciFi was something that he had found very appealing as a youth but which now began to pall on him.

     He was standing the 12-4 AM watch reading a collection of fantasy stories by William Tenn when he realized that as enjoyable as this type of fiction was it led nowhere.  A lifetime of reading this stuff would leave one with nothing.  He resolved to put the Westerns and Science Fiction of his youth behind him.

     He was sitting beneath the barrel of the after three inch as he was reflecting on the uselessness of the genre when he heard footsteps and whispers rounding the superstructure.  Getting up to look as he was apprehensive that Roberts and the bunch might try to throw him over he saw Teal Kanary and Mike Van Wye running behind the guntub in a crouch.

     They had been half selected and half volunteered to be the one to throw Trueman overboard.  It was their intent to sneak around, seize Trueman and chuck him over.

    ‘Hey! Van Wye, Kanary!  What are you guys doing on deck after taps.  Get below where belong or I’ll call the bridge.’

     ‘How do you know it’s us, Trueman?’

     ‘What do you mean how do I know, Stupids.  I can see you.’

      ‘You can’t see us.  This is in the dark.’

     ‘Aw, you assholes are always in the dark.  You were born in the dark and you’ll never come out of it.  Get back down below.’

     The two men hesitated baffled by Trueman’s good vision because they couldn’t see that well.  They apparently didn’t think he could hear that well because they continued their conversation as though he wasn’t there.

     ‘This isn’t going to be so easy now that he’s seen us Van Wye.’

     ‘Yeah, I know, but it’s two against one and he’s a pussy.’

     ‘Oh Jesus, you guys are too much.,  Bridge:  After Watch.  Van Wye and Kanary are up here on deck without a purpose.  You want to send somebody back to remove them?’

     ‘Hey, you’re a real prick, Trueman.’  Van Wye whispered up as he and Kanary slid past on their way below in the same manner they had arrived.

     ‘Never mind, Bridge, they just slithered below.’

     Trueman survived the first attempt on his life.

page 824.

Parasdise Viewed From The Waterline

     The first stop on the tour was Pearl Harbor.  The stop was only for a few hours to refuel the ship, embarking again at ten o’ clock that evening for some reason.  As a reward for a successful tour the squadron was to be given seven days layover on the voyage home.  Still the anticipation of Honolulu was so strong that the Captain gave everyone but a skeleton watch liberty.  Even the eight to twelve was give liberty after standing their watch.  Every was given liberty that is, except…Dewey Trueman.

     Kanary was still angry with himself because he hadn’t been able to exclude Trueman from the cruise or been successful in tossing him overboard.  Unsuccessful in the former he would do everything he could to keep Trueman from enjoying the cruise;  unsuccessful in the latter he would manage a temporary surrogate.  Dieter too continued to seethe inside disappointed at his failure to imprison Trueman in the Depth Charge hold and its denouement.

     The Teufelsdreck sailed into Pearl at sunrise.  By six-thirty it was securely moored dockside.  The Captain announced immediate liberty for all hands with the exception of the watch with strict injunctions to be back no later than nine.

     These sailors had all been brought up on Webley Edward’s ‘Hawaii Calls’ radio show.  The lure of the islands was bred into their bones.  These were days on the cusp of the big jet mainliners that could fly from sea to sea.  A trip to the islands still meant a long sea cruise which was beyond the time and means of most people.  Flying itself was extremely expensive.  Thus the thrill of Hawaii was greater than even the prospect of Australia or Japan.

page 825.

     Dieter himself entered First to accost Trueman.

     ‘You’re not going on liberty, Trueman.  Get yourself a stage and drop it over the fantail.  You’ll be chipping and painting the ass end.’

     ‘What’re you talking about Chief?  You heard the Captain.  All hands.  You hear that?  He mentioned me by name:  All Hands.  That’s me.’

     ‘Sea lawyer!  You aren’t going to disobey an order from your Chief are you?  And don’t pull that going to the Captain again if you know what’s good for you.  Understand?’

     ‘Yeah, I understand Chief.  When the rules don’t work for you suspend the rules.  Well I suppose you’ve got the power Dieter so the law need have no relevance for you.  You and Willie Sutton, know what I mean?’

     Dieter didn’t know what he meant nor did he care to ask.

     ‘And stay over the side all day.  Understand?’  Dieter said jabbing his finger into Trueman’s chest for emphasis.

     ‘Hey, Chief, don’t touch.  No Petty Officer has a right to inflict corporal punishment.  Watch it!  Know the limits of your power!’

     ‘Always the sea lawyer, eh, Trueman?  If I wasn’t wearing this uniform…’

page 826.

     ‘Yeah, but you are.  You couldn’t function out of it.’

     The law was on Trueman’s side but the power was on Dieter’s.  What’s law compared to the sword?  It’s always the Hitlers who make the laws and Trueman’s who have to execute them.  Trueman just rationalized the situation to cover his disappointment.  He didn’t have much money; on such a short liberty there would only be time to hit the bars so he wasn’t missing anything.

     Dieter supervised him as he got the stage and paint supplies.  Dieter watched him lower the stage over the stern.  Then the Big Chief made some snide remark as Trueman dropped down and stalked off.

     As Trueman stared at the big white letters that spelled Teufelsdreck Teal Kanary leaned over to say:  ‘You’re right where you belong, Trueman,  off the ship.’  Hatred distorted the homo’s face and his regrets at not having been able to throw Trueman to the dolphins surfaced as unbridled rage.

     Trueman flicked the paint brush at him speckling his face and hat.

     ‘Shit man, you got some on me.’

     ‘Shit man, you always look like you’ve got some on you.  If you don’t get out of here I’ll paint your shoes, she how you like that shine, asshole.  I think I will anyway.’

     Kanary quickly pulled his feet back but not quick enough.  A streak of gray tracked over his left shoe.  Muttering something indistinct he rushed off to clean his face, put on a new pair of shoes and get a new hat.

     Trueman watched the crew stream by excitedly off for Honolulu.  Chief Dieter walked by with his nose in the air as though to say, take that.  Next to last came Kanary who cast a wrathful but satisfied glance in his direction.  After Kanary the Blacks came streaming by in a noisy laughing compact body.

page 827.

     The cruise was fraught with terrible anxieties for them.  Fearful for their safety amongst whites in their home towns they also lived in terror aboard ship.  Their fears for their safety in foreign lands which they imagined to be inimical to Blacks had been a matter of some discussion among them.

      The miracle of the Blacks was that in the face of historical antipathy amongst a hostile majority they could sustain such mental equanimity as to be cheerful and sprightly.  They could discuss their fears in a humorous laughing manner.

     ‘Say, Man, I don’t know what we gon’ do when we get in those foreign lands hatin’ us niggers as they do.’

     ‘Yeah, Man, if we survive goin’ ashore we gon’ be fightin’ our way in and fightin’ our way out.  No fun in that.’

     ‘You right there, Man.  I think Honolulu the last American place, only place we can go ashore on this cruise.  We gon’ have to stay aboard until the ship comes back.’

     ‘I s’pose you right, Man.  Then we better do Honolulu right in the eight hours we got.  He. He.  Le’s go have some fun.’

     And so for the last time in six months the Blacks left the ship.  As they passed Dewey standing on his stage Tyrone Jackson noted it carefully.  ‘That White Boy ain’t got no friends.’  He mused.

     When they were all gone a great peace settled aboard ship.  All the hubbub ceased.  Trueman picked up Dieter’s glare at him as he passed down the pier.  Then Trueman realized it was just he and the watch aboard ship.  What, he reasoned, was Dieter going to do if he pulled up the stage and lay around his bunk.  Nothing.  The Chief was on ice so thin it wouldn’t support his miniscule dick.

page 828.

     Trueman turned around.  The ship was backed against some old pilings.  Looked like the Japs missed them on the Day Of Infamy That Will Live Forever In Our Memory or until the Toyotas began to arrive, whichever came first.

     The pilings were built quite a way out over the water.  As Trueman stared back into them he couldn’t see where they ended.  The water of Pearl Harbor was greasy black covered with a thick scum of oil.  For a moment Trueman believed he could walk away across the oil to disappear forever among the pilings.  He had almost stepped off the stage when he caught himself.

     Then he climbed back up on deck, drew up the stage and took it back to the paint locker just forward of the Quarterdeck on the port side.

     ‘I thought you were supposed to work all day, Trueman.’  Carlovic, the Second Class Damage Controlman serving as Petty Officer of the Watch, said.

     ‘No kidding, Carlovics, you going to fink on me.  Who cares?  Dieter’s out of his rights anyways.  He has no call to discriminate against me.  Tell him what you want, I don’t care.’

     ‘Nobody said nothing about telling nobody nothing.  I was just making an observation, that’s all.’

     ‘Uh huh.  Well, have a good watch, Carlovics.  Keep your eyes peeled.’

page 829


     ‘That’s what I said, Carlovics.’

     Then Dewey relaxed the day aboard ship as though it was his very own.

They Put A Lid On It

     Underweigh again the Teufelsdreck headed out another two thousand miles into the Test Range.

     Dewey was standing with hands in pockets gazing at the flying fish.  The marvel of seeing fish emerging from the symbolic waters of the subconscious to skim across the surface sometimes gliding several feet above the water as the wave receded beneath them to meet the advancing crest where with consummate skill the fish rejoined contact but propelled itself up the rising swell before sinking beneath the brine once more.

     It wasn’t that Dewey wasn’t conscious of the feeling he was experiencing but that consciousness defied the formation of thought remaining an inchoate undifferentiated raveled nebula which he couldn’t grasp and formulate.  He watched as hundreds of fish, dragonfly like, fins extended, erupted in schools with their tail fins whipping back and forth to propel them up and out of the water.

     During the day they avoided the ship but every morning the deckhands had to sweep a couple dozen who had come aboard during the night over the side.  On one night one of them actually fell down the after hatch.

page 830.

     ‘Amazing, aren’t they?’  Dart Craddock said stepping beside him.

     ‘Yeah, they are.’

     ‘Say, Dewey, I want you to know I don’t think it was right you’re having to stay aboard in Honolulu.’

     ‘Well, Dieter’s got the power.’

     ‘It’s a shame you had to work all day while we were out partying.’

     ‘Oh, I didn’t work all day.’

     ‘You didn’t.’

     ‘Hell, no.  As soon as I saw Dieter leave I hauled the stage up and relaxed.’

     ‘Oh.’  There was a tinge of disappointment in Dart’s voice.

     ‘Actually, I didn’t mind.’

     Craddock thought Trueman was fibbing a little but Dewey was telling the truth.  An insult is effective only if it insults.  Dewey knew the intent was to insult him but the result had been beneficial to him. 

     ‘I mean, you know, it was just so darn wonderful to have some peace and quiet; to get free of the farting smelly trash.  You know half these guys only honor the Saturday Night tradition and if they miss one Saturday they wait until the next.

     ‘While I’m on it…’  Dewey slid into a non-sequitor, ‘…how many times do you guys cadge those steaks for yourselves.  I suppose you get all the canned strawberries and those goodies too.’

page 831.

     Dewey was referring to the night before Hawaii when he was going up to the midnight watch he passed the kitchen where he paused to look in as he smelled cooking steak.  There he saw Craddock, Kanary and others of that crowd cooking and eating steaks that were meant for the crew.  Having been caught in the act Craddock had offered Dewey some.  Had Dewey been wise instead of moral he would have wolfed down a few bites.  Whenever you come across people engaged in an illicit act it is necessary to become an accomplice or suffer the consequences of their enraged guilt.  There is always the fear that you will become a ‘whistle blower.’

     Dewey hadn’t made a formal complaint but in his outraged morality he noised the incident abroad.  Had he made an official complaint the incident could never have been proven, but among the crew members proof was of a different sort.  There was no question of guilt.  Many of the more aggressive crewmen let the conspirators know they expected to be cut in.

     ‘Oh that.  That…you really misunderstood that Trueman.  That was just…just…a box of few old pieces of meat Bocuse found under some egg cartons.  There weren’t enough for the whole crew, so…so…’

     ‘Yeah.  So Kanary and you guys got ’em.  I’m clear on it, Dart.  What do you think I don’t understand?’

     The situation was to have consequences. Neither Kanary nor Craddock forgot it.  But now Craddock changed the subject.

     ‘You know what’s right over there?’  He said pointing vaguely out across the immense expanse of waves.

page 832.

     ‘More water?’  Dewey joked.

     ‘That too.’  Craddock laughed more than necessary to distance himself from the steak incident.  ‘Johnson Island.’  He said confidentially as though he held a secret.

     ‘What’s Johnson Island?’

     ‘Well, you know we’re headed out into the Test Range?  Johnson Island is one of the first islands they blew up.  Then after Eniwetok and Bikini they took all the hot debris and dumped it into the lagoon of Johnson.  Then they built a concrete dome over it to trap the radio activity.’

     ‘Johnson Island is that close to Hawaii?  God, that’s criminal.’

    ‘Sure it is.  But they don’t care.  Imagine what Bikini and Eniwetok look like.’

     Dewey couldn’t imagine until he saw Kwajalein.  these so-called islands are merely atolls or in other words the exposed rim of dead volcanoes.  Only portions of the circumference are above water, and that just barely so that in order to put a concrete lid on Johnson the immense dome only touched land at a half dozen points.

     But Dewey’s imagination ran to other issues.  He didn’t grasp the significance of the nuclear testing but he was outraged at the removal of the tiny populations of these barely habitable out croppings.

     ‘What’s really terrible is they move the people living on them onto other islands.’

     ‘What’s so terrible about that?’  Craddock asked who for all the reputed sensitivity of the Reds for oppressed peoples failed to see oppression unless it suited his purposes.

page 833.

     ‘Wha-a-t?  Haven’t your ever read Herman Melville’s Typee?’  Dewey asked incredulously.

     ‘Yes, of course.’  Craddock lied.

     ‘Well, man, on that little island the people in each valley were at war with each other.  Can you imagine the result of forcing one tribe into another’s valley and telling them they have to get along with each other?  Ain’t going to happen, Cowboy.  Never, they’ll kill each other.’

     ‘Oh, I don’t think it’d be that bad.  Most people want to get along with each other.’

     ‘Yah, Dart.  Just like aboard this ship.  Not when some get the steaks and some don’t.’  Dewey said accusingly. 

     ‘I got to get up to the Radio Shack.’  Dart said hurrying off.

Landmarks Of The Pacific War

     The Teufelsdreck cruised into the Marshalls skirting Bikini in the distance to the north then dropping down to Kwajalein to approach it from the East.  The cruise was taking them to and past historic names:  Kwajalein and Tarawa and down to Samoa.  All had been strong fortifications of the Japanese requiring great effort to take.

     The names still meant a great deal in ’57.  Everyone had seen the movies.  For Dieter and the Old Navy hands these were legendary sites with tremendous emotional overtones.  If they hadn’t been there they knew others who had.

page 834.

     Kwajalein is a low atoll of several, not so much islands as sandbars surrounding the lagoon.  As on Typee the inhabitants of the several sandbars were all at odds with each other.  The main island which is sort of rib steak shaped with a fat part lying South and tapering to a point in the North is only large enough for a landing strip and some administration buildings.  Why the Japanese chose to defend it can only be attributed to fanaticism.  Why the US stormed it can only be attributed to stupidity.  Just put a couple ships around it and starve them out.  No problem.

     The approach to this main islet is exactly as described by Herman Wouk in the Caine Mutiny.  Pehaps as many sailors were familiar with Kwajalein from the movie as they were from history.  There was much joking as sailors hung over the side looking for the famous yellow stain.

     The influence of Wouk’s novel was quite extensive, notably through his creation of Captain Queeg and his ball bearings.  The ball bearings which he rolled and clicked through his fingers really made an impression.  Few men had read the book while nearly all had seen the movie.

     The movie is more reasonable than Wouk’s quirky book.  The movie sanitizes the book quite thoroughly.  Wouk, who was a Jew, wrote the typical immigrant’s novel where the oppressive Anglo social doyen comes into contact with various immigrant groups; most notably Italians and Jews.  For some reason Wouk makes his old line Anglo hero an Irishman which weakens his already shaky premise for the attentive reader.

page 835

     Wouk purposely makes the conflict between Queeg and his officers trivial to exploit the conclusion where the real purpose of the Pacific War is made apparent- to underscore its insignificance as compared to the destruction of the Jews in Europe.

     All the officers aboard the Caine are depicted as weak and quirky.  Decisive in scheming they are indicisive and confused in action.  The only strong character in the movie is the Jewish lawyer who defends them, although it isn’t really made clear he is Jewish as in the book.  He, of course, despised the scummy Anglos, thinks they are guilty of mutiny and gets them off because of a perverse sense of justice.

     For, while the real crux of the matter was happening in Auschwitz these guys were play acting in the Pacific War.

     As an example of how the Jewish movie moguls projected Jewish psychic needs unto the screen from their intellects to satisfy their subliminal anguish consider this:  In the 1930s two Jews created the comic book hero, Superman, as a parody of the goy.  They fashioned the features of Superman after those of the actor Fred MacMurray.  Thus in the movie a real life Jew, Jose Ferrer, acting the role of a movie Jew drives the real life gentile who was the model for the comic book hero Superman, Fred MacMurray, to his knees as the movie Anglo villain.  Thus in a subliminal projection the defeated Jew triumphs over the Nietzschean/Nazi Ubermensch reversing the facts of the War.  Very neatly done and nobody got it.

     Thus art and life fuse, after a fashion, in memory of the exterminated Jews.

page 816.

     The subliminal message for both book reader and movie goer is quite clear.  What is attempted is a sort of Freudian mind control.  Hypnotism from the printed page.

     Nevertheless after observing a whole crew walking around rolling imaginary steel balls between their fingers for a whole day Trueman mounted the ladder for the eight to twelve with a sigh of relief as the Teufelsdreck hosited anchor to head South for the Line.

     At this point the Homos activated their plans for the equatorial crossing.  Initiation was supposed to be only for one day but the pent up fury of the queers created an actual reign of terror for the three days to the Line that would have been unparalleled in an insane asylum.  The Teufelsdreck could have been called the USS Charenton for those three days.

     As strange as it may seem Captain Ratches released his authority to the homos for those three days.  He was never able to completely reestablish his authority after that.

     As stated previously there were only six men aboard below First Class who had ever seen the Southern Cross.  Yet all the men who gathered in After Steering were allowed to pass as Shellbacks.  The honest men did not contest that they were Pollywogs, but as so many men who had no claim to Shellback status claimed it there was much dissension and discord.

     True to his ideal Ratches refused to dirty his hands by associating with the crew.  He left all determinations to his Yeoman, Kanary.

page 837.

     When Kanary himself claimed Shellback status this brought up a howl of protest from Trueman.  It took no claim to genius to realize that men mostly twenty years or younger on their first tour could have been South of the Line but each case had to be specifically disproved.  Nor was this difficult but as in real courts when the judges are crooked only one verdict is possible.

     Trueman in open meeting, as it were, denied that Kanary was a Shellback.  Like all accomplished liars Kanary coolly asserted without a show of guilt that he was.

     ‘Baloney.’  Trueman averred.

     ‘I was on the cruise that had just come back when you came on board, Trueman, they visited New Zealand on that cruise.’  Kanary said with a smile.

     ‘Baloney, again, Kanary on two counts.  You came aboard just before I did and besides the ship spent all its time in Japan and patrolling off Korea.  It didn’t even go South.’

     ‘Yeah, that’s right.’  Came a couple voices.

     Kanary wasn’t stymied.  He smoothly changed his story.

     ‘Well, I did on an earlier ship before I came aboard.’

     ‘Balone three times.  You’re in for the same time I am.  This is your first enlistment.  You get out when I do so you couldn’t have been on another ship.  You’re a Pollywog.’

     Kanary had been caught in another lie.  Ever the consummate liar he without embarrassment or flinching after only a brief pause said:  ‘Well, I was on a cruise with my parents in high school and crossed the Line then.’

     ‘That too is a lie.  You always complain about how your parents are only schoolteachers and how they don’t have any money because the State doesn’t appreciate their services and they’re underpaid.’

     Then Kanary fell back on the lie of the common thief.

     ‘My parents came into a small inheritance.  That’s how they could afford it.’

     ‘Baloney forever, Kanary.  Civilian life doesn’t count.  What was their destination?’

     ‘South America.’

      ‘Where in South America?’

     ‘Caracas.’  Kanary snapped naming the first city he could think of.

     ‘Caracas isn’t below the equator.’  Trueman retorted.

    ‘Then we went to Argentina or somewhere,  It was a long time ago, I forget.’

     ‘Yeah.  High School was a long time ago.  It doesn’t count even if you did.’

     ‘It does so.’  Kanary cried shifting the argument from geography to contention.

     ‘Yes. It counts.’  Duber said supporting his own.

     The marbles were in the hands of the Homos who were organized from their nocturnal meetings and not with the straights who weren’t so the Homos carried the day.  It was the Day Of The Perverts; they would come into their own and terrorize the straights.

     Ungoverned by Captain and officers the Homos threw away all restraints.  While the Pollywogs were not required to submit to any initiation except on the day the ship crossed the Line the reins of law and authority were assumed by the Homos.  For three days the crew submitted to their reign of terror.  They allowed themselves to be abused as they would have done under no other circumstance.

page 839

     In telling this it seems clear that this was a war between Homos and straights but such a situation was only clear to the Homos who as a secret society knew who they were; the homosexual aspects of the situation was not at all clear to the others.

     Not sure that the crew would accept their authority the Homos began slowly to test the limits.

     In this madness they selected their targets to settle old scores.  Trueman was obviously one but through chance and adroitness he evaded their hatred.  One reason he escaped was their hatred.  Kanary who assigned watches juggled the watches in such a way that Trueman stood more than his share.  Thus in every instance that the Homos prowled he was on watch.

     As they left Kwajalein Dewey also drew the eight to twelve at night.  Seemingly an impossiblity it was brought about by a change in the dinner shifts.  That shift by custom was broken in two to allow the watch to eat.  Thus instead of a four to eight evening watch there was a four to six and a six to eight.  Thus by shifting the dinner watches the sequence of watches were reversed.  Those who had just been on watch came back on.

     The watches were causing Trueman logistical problems.  Because of watches, work and dinner it was difficult for him to find time to shower.  As it was imperative to him to be clean, especially in the torrid tropical heat, he was in a quandary.

     As he stood on watch he pondered his dilemma.  At sea every night was broken by a watch so that getting proper rest was impossible.  One was either retiring at twelve, getting up to stand the twelve to four or rousted at at three-thirty to stand the four to eight.  Trueman like his sleep which he wasn’t getting.

page 840.

     As he stared out glumly wondering how to shower and get sleep he realized he would have to give up some of the sleep which he wasn’t getting.

     His reasoning proved to be faulty because as he stepped into the showers he found the arch queers Paul Duber and Peter Erect in the back stalls.

     Forced sex and rape was part and parcel of their method.  They quickly learned that at sea where need forced changes in customs men were compelled to shower at odd hours after the changing of the guard for the twelve to four.  As sexual predators they hoped to take advantage of these isolated sailors.

     One of the things a Navy man is always advised is that if you drop your soap in the shower don’t bend over to pick it up.  To this time Dewey had thought this was just some kind of Navy humor.

     Duber and Erect had stopped the drains so that there was four inches of water sloshing back and forth as the ship rolled.  It was very easy to slip and fall in the soapy water.  They stood leering at Trueman with sex crazed eyes.

     ‘Careful you don’t drop your soap.’ Duber suggested leeringly.

    At that point Trueman realized that the statement was not a joke.  These guys meant to bugger him if he bent over.  There would be no witnesses; it would be Trueman’s word against theirs if he chose to report it.  Had he chosen to report such an incident the shame would have redounded on himself.  Unlike women who draw sympathy for a sexual violation a man becomes a laughing stock.  Therefore prevention was imperative as there was no cure.

page 841.

     It became apparent why there was four inches of water in the shower when Trueman dropped his soap.  Dewey used 99 44/100% pure Ivory so at least the soap floated; but as the ship rolled his soap floated under the divider to starboard and back again to port, you couldn’t catch it with your foot.  Standing in soapy water was precarious business so that more concentration was necessary to retrieve the soap than to watch you ass.  Diabolically clever fellows Duber and Erect.

     At first Trueman turned his rectum to the aisle to bend over intending to support himself with one hand on the bulkhead but one look at the expectant leering faces of Duber and Erect standing ready to pounce convinced him that ‘Don’t bend over to pick up your soap, was pertinent advice rather than a joke.

     He carefully turned placing his rectum against the bulkhead attempting a different balancing act in the rolling soapy water.  He missed his first couple passes at the soap almost falling over to the amusement of the queer duo.  Then he placed his hand on the ledge of the basin to steady himself retrieving his soap without mishap.

page 842.

     ‘You almost lost your virginity- if you are one.’  Erect quipped.

     Considering he had showered enough for one evening Dewey stepped out of the showers saying:  ‘You queers better watch your step.’

     ‘No.  You better watch yours Pollywog.’  Duber said threateningly.  ‘You better watch who you call queer.’

     ‘I was looking at you.’  Dewey said with disgust as he walked off.

     ‘God, I can’t believe a man has to live this way.  He lamented as he climbed into his bunk amid the stench of unwashed and farting bodies.  ‘But I ain’t got no choice unless I die today.’

The Man Who Shook The World

For even if they should say something true, one who loves the Truth should not, even so, agree with them.  For not all true things are the Truth nor should that truth which seems true according to human opinions be preferred to the true Truth- that according to the faith.

-Clement of Alexandria


     Clement was a man defending orthodox Christianity against not only the Pagans but competing Christian sects.  Here he enunciates the credo of the true believer- it is True because we believe it, any other opinion even if true must be considered false according to the faith.

page 843.

     In the twentieth century the Jewish comic Woody Allen has a scene in one of his movies where some Jewish men are discussing things at a seder.  Allen has one say that he would take God over the Truth.  Or, like Clement he would sacrifice Reason for Superstition.

     There we have the crux of the matter.  To criticize Jews is to criticize God in the Jewish mind.  The inevitable result is anti-Semitism.  Thereon hangs the whole of Jewish history.  It is to be devoutly hoped that the following discussion will not be defamed as Semites vs. Anti-Semites but approved as Reason vs. Superstition.  After all in the Age of Science one would hope that Superstition is a thing of the past.

     The argument will center on the ideas and career of Sigmund Freud- the man who shook the world.  But first the world will have to be placed in the context of competing viewpoints within a Jewish context.

     For many millennia the role of Science was given a subsidiary position below that of Religion.  The knowledge of God was used to deny true knowledge because it conflicted with the true Truth of faith.

     In this environment the Jews were advantageously placed to dispute with Roman Catholics.  After all Catholicism used the Jewish texts as its Holy Scripture.  Thus in debating contests with Catholicism the Jews almost always came out the winners.  This gave them great pride as being superior to the Gentiles.  Their very high opinion of themselves seemed justified.

page 844.

     Had things remained a matter of faith the Jewish opinion of themselves would probably still be unchallenged.  However Science which had been treated by the Church more roughly than the Jews refused to be suppressed.  Actually a higher percentage of Scientists were persecuted to death by the Church than Jews but this fact has to my knowledge never even been considered.

     The rise of Science in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries not only shook the faith of Catholicism to its roots but actually cast Judaism into the dust bin of history.  With the rise of Science the Semitic religions became irrelevant.  They could not win any debates with Science.

     In the many crises of the Jewish soul this was a very signficant one.  It caused the breakup of medieval Judaism.  For the first time the Jews left their ghettoes and attemped to enter the mainstream of European life.

     The Talmud which the Jews had always considered the repository of all true wisdom and knowledge now appeared to enlightened Jews to be the collection of nonsense the goys had always claimed it was.

     As the Jews then, began to enter the mainstream of European society they did so consciously as inferiors trying to impose themselves with their old dignity on superiors.  The Talmud was useless to them in argument; they could only embrace the alien ideology of Science and try to excel the European originators of it.

page 845.

     Bearing in mind their desire to avenge themselves on the European by befuddling them because of their expulsion from Spain they campaigned  politically, economically and intellectually.

     The first major attempt was that of Karl Marx who espoused ‘scientific’ socialism which was superior to ‘utopian’ socialism.  Thus a Jewish social system supposedly scientifically constructed was placed in opposition to a European social system.

     In the realm of Physics Einstein managed what seemed to be a more accurate description of reality.  So in politics and physics the Jews had established a seeming scientific superiority.

    At the same time as Einstein, Sigmund Freud coalesced a theory of psychology that was superior to all that had gone before it.

     All three men tried to turn their achievements to the benefit of the Jews.  As much as anything this was the cause of the two European wars as Hitler so accurately recognized.

     As a little aside it is interesting to note the career of Immanuel Velikovsky.  Like Einstein Velikovsky was a very competent scientist.  But whereas Einstein stopped short at attempting the prove the veracity of Genesis and Exodus Velikovsky plowed straight ahead.  Using his vast Scientific skills to attempt to validate the literal accuracy of every fable he broke on the rack of superstition.  Still, he wrote some very entertaining books.

page 846.


     The influence of Sigmund Freud on psychology has been immense while that influence has been almost entirely of a negative character.  The increase in crime can be attributed to his theories.  Certainly the self-centered attitude of the homosexuals aboard the Teufelsdreck is about to lead to crimes and thwarted crimes which can be laid to Freud’s ideas and career in light of his milieu.


     One of Freud’s discoveries was the neurotic need to repeat.  In other words, the subject repeatedly acts out the encysted subconsious fixation in an attempt to exorcise or realize it.  This phenomenon applies to groups as well as individuals.  In national groups it is called the ‘national character.’  In other words, a people must always act out its chracteristic view of reality, the true Truth of the faith vs. the actual state of things.

     The Jews by and large have been a Stateless people since their origins.  If one takes Genesis as fact, and it is psychological fact for sure, the Jews enter history ‘On The Road’ having been expelled from Ur of the Chaldees.  The theme of expulsion is a repeating figure in Jewish history.  They are never tolerated for long.

     If we take the Jewish historian, Josephus at face value they were expelled from Ur because of the jealousy of the Chaldean astronomers who were angry at Abram’s superior skills.  The Chaldeans were known as the foremost astronomers of the ancient world so the Jewish ego must excel them.

page 848.

     The Jews then go to Egypt which was the home of the greatest magicians.  After having outperformed Pharaoh’s magicians at feats of magic they take to the road again fleeing Egypt.

     Thus the main tenets of the Jewish character are fixed.  They see themselves as an invasive people who are naturally superior to any people whose territory they invade.  These two themes repeat and repeat.

     Thus in the nineteenth century when the Jews move West out of the Pale of Settlement into Vienna the migration must be seen as an invasion of a hostile people intent on taking over the State as in Ur or Egypt.

     A historical characteristic of Jewish invasions is that they are not usually militaristic but infiltratory.  Like the military invasion of Hungary by the Magyars the Jewish invasion of Vienna was no less belligerent and exhibited the same needs to impose its culture.

     In the biblical account of the invasion of Palestine the Jews put entire peoples to the sword to make living space for themselves.  Thus they committed genocide several times over.  It was not possible to exterminate the Viennese.  Not on short order, anyway.

     The bulk of the Jewish people in the world prior to 1700 had been collected in Eastern Europe in what became known as the Pale of Settlement.  This was mainly in eastern Poland and western Russia.  When Poland was partitioned between Russia, Austria and Germany in the eighteenth century Austria acquired a large Jewish population in Galicia and its other Eastern provinces.

page 848.

     The Western Jews already realized that the great challenge to their sense of superiority came from science.  What is called the Emancipation of the Jews was done by the French Revolution c. 1789-93.  The Emancipation allowed the Jews to begin participation in European society.  Thus the Jewish intellect came into conflict with the European intellect.  In Germany this created a reaction called the Kulterkamph.  The Germans opposed Kultur to Semitism.  Semitism is the Jewish name for their intellect.  Hence anti-Semitism came into existence.

     Once within the Austrian Empire the Jews began to migrate toward its capitol, Vienna.

     The Austro-Hungarian Empire was already an unwieldy amalgam of disputing nationalities and races.  Its German governors had their hands full.

     Unable to destroy the Germans by the sword the Jews made a cultural assault on the institutions of the Empire.  Blows against the Empire.  They pitted the Jewish intellect, Semitism, against the German intellect, Kultur.  Freud who fully understood the meaning of Kultur wrote a book denouncing it- Civilization And Its Discontents.

     Now, Jews are not smarter than anyone else although the mythology of the West so asserts.  In fact, the Jews are not under the same constraints as the indigenous peoples.  Thus, the Jews were always a free, if circumscribed, people.  The indigenous peoples were seldom as free and just as circumscribed.  Medieval Europe had been a caste society in which only a certain caste had freedom of movement.  The Russian Serfs were both unfree and circumscribed until 1861 when they were nominally, at least, freed although not allowed to freely participate in society.  Other European peasants had a role akin to the American Negro of 1900 in the South who were supposed to know their place and keep it.

page 849.

     Thus a university education was beyond the aspirations of the indigenous lower classes but open to Jews of any class.  It doesn’t take a genius to realize that social advancement is much facilitated by a college degree.  The Jews accordingly flooded European Universities in greatly disproportionate numbers to their population.  Any Jew could thus place himself above the majority of the indigenous population.

     It was inevitable that they should be disproportionately represented in law, the judiciary, medicine, education, the arts and all prestigious occupations.  As Semitism was unassimilable to Kultur it was inevitable that if the invasion was not resisted Semitism would prevail over the Kultur giving the war to the Jews who would then have conquered the indigenes.  This left the Germans in a difficult situation.  They must either discriminate against the invaders, kill them or go under.

     Given more freedom of movement than the indigenous population and possessing a universal language, Yiddish, they could form the business corps of any community unrestrained by the business mores of the indigenous peoples.  They could make their own rules, upsetting established traditions and customs as in ancient Egypt and Chaldea.

page 850.


Out Of Africa

A Short Story


R.E. Prindle

It is an ancient mariner

And he stoppeth one of three:

‘By they long grey beard and glittering eye,

Now wherefore stoppst thou me?



     Lost in his thoughts Dewey sat silently as the bus pulled into the Lansing station.  Dewey had assumed that as on his previous cross country trip he would change buses in Chicago.  He now learned that there would be a two hour delay in Lansing instead.  This is the way life is lived, somebody tells you there is a two hour delay no one had bothered to tell you about when you bought the ticket so there is a two hour delay.  To argue and fight is counter-productive so the delay just becomes an opportunity for something else to happen.

     Dewey nevertheless stepped down from the bus with a certain amount of disgust.  As he was descending a bus from Chicago pulled in stopping across the concourse.

     Watching with a curious idle eye Dewey noted the passengers as they came round the front of the bus.  He noted a Black guy with dark blue letterman’s sweater with a big entwined ND on the front who got off tentatively like he was hoping he wouldn’t be recognized.  Rather than walking across the concourse to the terminal he elected to lounge on a bench against the wall.

     Dewey was eyeing him intently when a voice from just behind his right ear queried:  “Do you know who that is?’

     Startled Dewey replied:  ‘Ah, no.’ hoping the owner of the voice would go away.

     ‘That Darkie there used to be Webster Kirksey.  Ever heard of him?’

     Dewey was startled by two things.  The use of the term Darkie was considered derogative and not in social use.  But Dewey was non-critical; he always believed let them have their say.  The second was the reference to a living man as ‘used to be’ as though he no longer was.

     ‘Webster Kirksey?  Yeah.  I have heard of him.  He’s from my home town.  He used to play guard for Valley High.  He was hot stuff, burned up the whole Valley league.’

     The man smiled with a connoisseur’s appreciation of Dewey’s colorful language.  ‘Yes.  That’s right. From there he was recruited by Notre Dame.’

     ‘Oh yeah?  How’s he doing there?’

    ‘He’s already done it.  He used up his eligibility last year.’

     ‘No kidding.  Been that long?  Graduated last year.’

     ‘You didn’t hear me say graduated.  You heard me say he used up his eligibility.  Jungle bunnies like that don’t graduate.  They don’t have what it takes to get in school to begin with.  Look at him now.  You wouldn’t think that this time last year he was eating high on the hog served by White Roosters and tender White chicks would you?’

     ‘Well, Mister, I’m having a hard time following you.’  Dewey replied hoping to discourage this man.  His curiosity was stronger than he realized because he quickly added:  ‘Who are you anyway?’

      With a quiet deep chuckle the man replied:  ‘My name is Lamont Cranston.’

      ‘It is not!’  Dewey replied in disbelief.

     ‘As I live and breathe.’  The man chuckled.  ‘My daddy’s name was Cranston and my mama named me Lamont.’

     ‘Oh yeah?’  Dewey said still disbelieving.  ‘What do you do?’

     ‘Well, Son, for the last thirty years I’ve been a newspaperman.’

     ‘A reporter, huh?’  Dewey said admiringly.  He’d always wanted to be a reporter.

     ‘Well, yes, a reporter, newspaperman, I’ve done a lot of jobs but now my time is drawing to a close.’


     ‘No. No.  Liberalism.  All the kids coming up that they hire are Liberals with all these what they call socially constructive ideas.  They don’t have much tolerance for an old salt like me.  They call me a Neanderthal when they’re angry, a conservative when they’re mild.  It’s only a matter of a year or two before they force me out.  Little bigots that they are.’

     ‘Get you fired, huh?

     ‘Oh no.  They’ll just harass me until I quit.  Look at the beat I’m walking now.  Bus stations.  What’s next?  They’ll post on the bridge to interview the defeated young White women crossing over in search of nigger dick.  No.  My time’s up.  That’s OK.  I’m prepared.’

     ‘You could fight.’

     ‘No.  Wrong end of the pendulaum.  When you’re on the right end and it’s swinging left you don’t have a chance.  I know what it means to be on both ends of the stick.  Now I’m on the short end.’

     Whatever Cranston was saying passed over Dewey’s head.

     ‘Do you get many stories at bus stations?’  Dewey asked naively with knit inquisitive brow.  His inquisitiveness didn’t concern his question which Lamont Cranston understood.

     ‘I’ve got a real story across the way there but I’ll never get it in print.’

     ‘What kind of story?’  Dewey asked who saw nothing but a desolate Negro lounging on a bench.

     ‘A tale of two races.’  Cranston replied with an enigmatic smile.  ‘Across the way there is an encapsulated history of several hundred years.  You heard me use the world ‘nigger’ a moment ago but I’ll bet you don’t know what the word means.  Don’t give me any dictionary definitions either.’

     Dewey was about to dish up some simplistic definition when he was arrested by Cranston’s words.  He had a couple of hours to while away, might as well let the old greybeard loon talk.  ‘Um. No.  Just that it’s a derogatory term for Negro.’

     ‘That it is and much more.  It’s more than derogatory, much more, it’s a statement of perceived reality by both Blacks and Whites such that it can’t be used by Whites while Blacks use it in only the most offensive way.

     You probably think that it’s a term that originated in the South but it’s not.  It goes back to when the White man first encountered the Blacks of West Africa.  Have you read much of the early African adventures of the White man?  No?  Neither has anyone else.  Well, time has passed and it would be difficult to reconstruct how the unregenerate Black appeared to Whites and vice versa.  Richard Burton once made the comparison quite seriously as between Crown and Clown but that was a couple hundred years later.  However, in 1862 Burton felt justified in making that comparison.  He perceived a permanent gulf in mental development between Blacks and Whites.  Imagine therefore how it must have seemed in 1650 when the Western slave trade was beginning.

     Remember that even by then Europeans were no  longer allowed slavery within their own dominions.  It was considered wrong for one human to enslave another human, within White dominions of course.  Outside they were quite willing to enslave anyone Black or White and did.  With the Blacks though it was different.  Europeans considered Negroes to be subhuman.  Even though they considered the Chinese to be of lesser humanity than themselves they still considered them as humans and therefore could not enslave them.

     This feeling was conveyed to the Negro who felt it keenly.  He felt it even more keenly because he feared that it was true.  So, when the White man thought and said ‘nigger’ he meant someone he perceived as being completely devoid of human characteristics except in form.  At best he considered the Negro a trainable ape.

     When the Negro heard ‘nigger’ he understood its full meaning.  More importantly as he made the comparison between himself and Whites he came to the exact same conclusion.  This in turn drove the Negro mad.  You probably think the term ‘White Trash’ originated in the United States too, but it didn’t.  The West African Negro invented the term so that he could feel superior to at least a portion of White people.  When the Negro calls someone ‘White Trash’ it is meant to be as devastating as when a White calls him a ‘nigger.’

     It would be like Dorothy entering Oz except she had her own so she was treated with respect.  The Negro had nothing; he didn’t have his own.  That is part of the meaning of the Negro lament ‘God Bless the child that’s got his own’.  So when he heard Whites say ‘nigger’ he heard the absolute contempt it implied while furthermore subconsciously agreeing with it.  The term became a title of reproach within his own community.  Thus if you listen on streetcorners closely you will hear one Black refer contemptuously to another as a ‘nigger.’  If he just wants to put him in his place he refers to him as ‘Negro.’  The latter is hurtful the former is devastating.  There’s no worse name one person can call another.  To be a ‘nigger’ is the be the lowest, a subhuman form.

     In West Africa after the legal exportation of slaves from West Africa ended in about 1800 and Blacks and Whites co-existed on an equal legal basis, at least in the British colonies, for a White to call a Negro a ‘nigger’ was an actionable offence carrying a fifty pound fine.  I’ve never learned if those were British pounds but if they were that’s a five to ten thousand dollar fine in today’s dollars, fairly serious money.

     It became necessary for Whites in West Africa to disguise their feelings especially as they were tried before a Black jury and Black juries always convicted a White man and acquitted a Black. 

     In the US where Whites are in the majority rather than Blacks the term isn’t actionable yet but it is socially offensive.  I only use the word where I know it won’t offend.’

     Dewy was taken back.  ‘How do you know I’m not a Liberal and won’t be offended.’

      ‘Oh, there’s just something in a reasonable man’s face.’  Cranston said soothingly.  ‘When I said I didn’t think you’d be offended all I meant was that I thought you were intelligent enough to hear the facts and judge them.’

     ‘Oh.’  Said Dewey, allowing himself to be flattered but still suspicious of the smiling Lamont Cranston.  Still Cranston held him with his glittering eye.

      But then the flattery wore off and Dewey thought he had better assert his independence.  ‘So what’s that got to do with Webster Kirksey?’  He said with appropriate testiness.

     ‘On the unspoken level Kirksey is that nigger I’ve been discussing.  On a very real but unmentionable level Kirksey is the equivalent of a trained ape.  He can play basketball like a wizard but if he couldn’t he would never have been seen on the campus of Notre Dame.  That guy is so dumb he doesn’t understand why there’s two ends to shoes laces and he used them everyday.  There isn’t a college in the world whose academic standards are low enough to admit him, although that may be changing.

      Until just recently athletes have had to meet minimal academic standards.  Minimal is meant in kind of a philosophical sense.  But the pressure on schools to win have made them relax those standards for White students;  there never were any standards for Negroes.  They kind of make their own rules as they go along.

     But the college coaches see some oustanding Black athletes who could help them win going to waste so they pressure for academic standards to be waived.  That’s not spelled w-a-v-e-d  if you know what I mean.  The social dynamics are more complex than that but that’s how guys like Webster Kirksey get to schools like Notre Dame.

     I’m not a hard man;  Webster Kirksey has got his gripe.  Look at him over there.  He’s a lost man.  For four years big business men and beautiful White girls shouted out:  Hi, Webster, way to go man.  Now no one will recognize him although I bet half the people here know who he is.  He played against State and won every year.

     Those Big B types used to give him a new Caddie to drive every year.  On loan of course.  They took his last one from him the day after the season ended.  Kirksey dropped out the next day.

     They used to pay for weekends in Chitown; give him spending cash; send White girls, sweet and tender stuff too, around to him in his room…’

     Dewey gasped.

     ‘You don’t know the half of it.  There wasn’t anything too good for Webster Kirksey until his last game was over and then there wasn’t anything good enough.  Webster Kirksey!  Look at him.’

     Dewey looked.  He still saw nothing but a Black guy in a Notre Dame letter sweater lounging on a bench.

     ‘Uh, looks OK to me.  What am I supposed to see?’

     ‘I’m afraid you’d have to go into training to make a reporter, Son.  I guess it isn’t  as clear to you as it is to me.  I’ll tell you what you don’t see.  You didn’t see Webster Kirksey when he passed through here last Christmas.  Last year he was the star guard, the fireplug of the Notre Dame team; they couldn’t win without him.  Last year there were people standing around him gawking admiringly.  White people walked by him smiling approvingly.  White girls shouted across the concourse, a safe distance from his blackness:  Hi, Webster, or even, Webbie.  Last year he was Webster Kirksey; this year his name is mud.  No one will even look at him even though he wears his varsity sweater with that big ND with four varsity basketballs.

      Varsity!  What does that mean?  These guys are professional athletes who couldn’t get into college any other way.  They stay only as long as they play.’

     ‘I think college should be academic.’  Dewey said somewhat lamely after due reflection.  ‘But you got to admit that Black guys are better athletes.’

     Cranston looked at Dewey sharply, paused, then said acerbically:  ‘I don’t have to admit any such thing.  You obviously don’t know what’s going on.’

     Whether Dewey knew what was going on or not he wished this old greybeard, Lamont Cranston, would stop another lonesome traveler.

     ‘Most people have got no idea what is happening with Negroes.  If they had access to all the information, which Liberals will never let them have, they wouldn’t even know how to interpret it.  We’re in the midst of a Black rebellion.  Everyone pays attention to what’s going on in Alabama and Mississippi just like it’s important.  What’s important is what’s going on right here in the North and in college athletics. 

     You probably haven’t even heard of Black Muslims and this fellow calls himself Malcolm X, have you?  I thought not.  Well, this is sort of a Black secessionist movement.  It will cause trouble whether it succeeds or not.  It was started by a dumb nigger who came from Detroit, lives in Chicago now, called Elijah Muhammed.  He wasn’t going anywhere with his movement until this guy who calls himself Malcolm X got out of prison, went to Detroit where he put life in this movement.  Jerk used to live here in Lansing when he was only Malcolm Little.

    So, these Black Muslims are giving these people bad ideas.  You believe they are better athletes by which I presume you mean that a higher proportion of their population than a commensurate proportion of Whites.  This is nonsense.  They are less capable than Whites on the average but for sociological reasons Black players are allowed to be Hot Dogs where Whites aren’t.  It’s a cultural thing.  White people punish their own Hot Dogs and bring them down.  Witness Hot Rod Hundley and Bob Petit.  They’re going to run Hundley out of the pros and make life miserable for Petit.

     These are both great players in what one might call the Black mold; in other words they are not what Whites call ‘team players.’  They are what Whites call ‘ball hogs.’  In Black basketball the ball hog is a desideratum so long as he sticks it to the Whites, so long as he excels the enemie.  They would rather hot dog than win games.

     White basketball is a set game sort of like a programmed ballet; Black basketball is fluid and flowing sort of like Modern Dance.  The only way Blacks get by is by ‘slippin’ and slidin’, they slip by the guards and slide in.  That’s the way they play basketball they slip through the White set up and glide in.  They reach over the Whites by leaping high and slamming the ball in.  Whites are taught that it is a waste of energy to jump higher than is necessary to tip the ball in.

     With White’s it’s science; with Blacks it’s all show.  I’ll give you an example.  At the free throw line the most accurate way to shoot is from between your knees scooping the ball up and in.  You can sink ninety-eight, ninety-nine percent of your free throws that way.

     Blacks aren’t that smart.  Because Whites do it that way they refuse to, they reject science.  Rather than be successful they’d rather showboat it.  They balance the ball above their heads with one hand and try to lob it in.  Stupid.  They only sink fifty, sixty percent of their free throws wasting forty or more points per hundred.

     White people following the Black example are even dumber.  Even though they know a better way they think Black guys look sharper than they do shooting between the knees so they abandon a more accurate scientific way to look like dumb niggers- pardon me, Negroes, niggers isn’t appropriate in that place.

     In the broader sociological sense that is the problem with the Negro rebellion.  It is precisely because they aren’t as good as Whites that they will undermine the scientific method.  In part it is or, will be, because they can’t understand science but the main problem is that because on average they are less capable than Whites they can only excel by refusing to play by the rules or by by changing the rules faster than Whites can keep up with them.

     In the future even though Blacks make up only ten percent of the population they will make up ninety percent of the athletes, at least in basketball and football.

     This will be done in three ways:  In the first place White guilt will accord them the distinction.  Even though Whites will disallow any notion of natural superiority of intellect they will convince themselves that Blacks are genetically physically superior.

     Secondly, Blacks will change the rules of the game to suit themselves.  Basketball which is now a non-contact sport, but in the process of change, will become a limited contact sport.  If you watch closely Blacks are reaching out and touching opponents to feel which way they are going.  Soon they will hold the opponent in an attempt to direct their motion, holding them back or pushing them in a direction.  Because this is currently against the rules they will make it look lke they’re not doing it.’

     ‘Well, if it’s illegal the refs should call it.’

      ‘Perhaps.  But for sociological reasons they won’t.  If the players were White they would but because they’re Black the Negroes can scream discrimination.  Rather than face up to the Negroes and enforce the rules Whites will cave in.   Thus Whites will be playing one game while the Negroes will be playing another.  since the Negroes are calling the shots for their own benefit the game will favor the Negro style.  Whites will tolearate Negro hotshots, even applaud them, while they will still discourage White ‘exhibitionism.’

     And lastly, through a process of intimidation both on the field and in the locker room they will drive Whites from the sports.  Who needs the trouble?

     When they make the pros the whole balance of power in America will change as Negroes amass great wealth and displace Whites as role models.

     ‘Well, yeah, but don’t you think the Black character is the result of discrimination?  Blacks wouldn’t be that way if they had a fair chance.’

     ‘Do you think so , Son?  That is one of the great American fallacies.  It is caused by the false belief, sincere but no less false, that when an immigrant sets foot on American soil they leave their inbred native characteristics behind.  Nothing could be less true, yet you hear Jews, Italians and Blacks claiming that their more reprehensible aspects are a response to discriminatory American conditions.  At best they adapt their characters to the reality of American democracy which none of them have ever known.  You have to remember that democracy is not part of these peoples national heritage.  They’re like ducks out of water.

     I pity you because you will have to live through the greatest changes this country has ever seen.  You will be stripped of a voice and be rendered defenseless in the name of a perverted concept of democracy.

     I know what you’ve been taught.  Obviously you believe it.  You were taught that the transatlantic trip was so traumatic for Africans that they lost language, customs, habits and the whole works, that they began life over in America with a tabula rasa.  Ha! Ha!  Does anyone really believe that a mind can be swept clean of all developmental influences by a change of location?  Apparently so, because the people who taught you that believe so.

     That’s nonsense.

     If you study any people in their native environment and compare it with their manifestation in America you will find more continuity than discontinuity and that is just as true with Negroes as with anyone else.

     Your time with me is short so let me give a quick example.  You probably think the term ‘mammy’ was developed in the South and means mother.  It wasn’t and doesn’t.  The term ‘mammy’ was brought over from Africa as well as its male counterparts Daddy and Daddyo.’

     Dewey gasped again.

     ‘Yes.  French influence began in earnest in West Africa in the seventeenth century although they had a little known plantation on the South Coast in the thirteenth century.’

     ‘Before the Portuguese got there?’

     ‘Oh yes.  In fact the Normans attempted the conquest of the Canaries in the twelfth century and also visited the South Coast.


     ‘Quite so, as you may learn for yourself if you study.  At any rate the West Africans adopted the French, I may not have the French equivalent just right, ‘ma amie’ to ma’mie’ to ‘mammy’ something like that.  They also referred to important men as Daddy.  They put the exclamatory ‘oh’ behind the word so instead of saying ‘O mamie’ or O Daddy’ they said ‘mammyo’ or Daddyo.’  Over the years in America ‘mammy’ has acquired a derogatory tone so Negroes have substituted ‘mama.’  So rather than have mammys they now have mamas.  But they have misinterpreted the meaning of mammy.  The lesser know Daddy and Daddyo have survived intact from at least the early eighteenth century Africa.

     You think Daddy is a hip fifties expression, don’t you?  Have you ever used the term Daddyo?

      ‘Yeah, I do use it.  You’re right, I thought it was something new.  It’s not, huh?’

     ‘No, it’s not.  As I said it’s an eighteenth century Africanism.  So, that native Negro culture and character was not lost during transportation but continued and continues quite nicely, thank you.  Character trait for character trait can be traced back to African culture.  The way Blacks respond to American culture is merely a transliteration from Africa.  if you compare Negro mores here, which are supposed to be the result of White oppression with current Negro mores in Africa you will find they are quite similar.  Little difference at all in fact.

     But the Negroes blame their own native slothfulness on Whites while Whites are so stupid and bigoted that they accept the responsibility.  Rather an arrogant attitude on the part of the Blacks if you ask me.  Meanwhile Negroes look to Whites to ‘help’ them which means literally to tie their shoes for them.

     Just as Blacks change the rules of the game in basketball so they will change the rules of life in general.  There is no reason for them to play by what they call White rules, rejecting any notion of science they can’t understand, or they are introducing and will introduce degrading ‘natural’ or primitive rules.  The inevitable result will be the degradation of American society.  If the Whites keep the Negroes in their place there might be hope for America but rather than face unpleasant facts the Whites will allow themselves to become negrified and so slip into primitive degradation.  I feel sorry for you, Son.

     In the meantime we have Webster Kirksey there who sincerely cannot understand why he is no longer treated like a star.

     Right now he’s running back and forth between Chicago and the Valley hoping the ‘big mens’ are going to do something for him rather than doing it for himself.  They never will and neither will he.  They’ve already forgotten him for the next big star but he’s not smart enough to realize that.

     Even if he were White there would be nothing for him but to sell real estate or insurance where his ‘name’ would mean something.  That’s what the

‘big fellows’ tell these athletes, they can ‘capitalize’ on their ‘name.’  They say it will make it easy for them to do business with people.  Well, if the White athlete knows the true value of his ‘name’ and applies himself to selling he might succeed but if he relies on his ‘name’ he will surely fail.

     Those options aren’t even open to Kirksey.  Negroes usually don’t maintain insurance policies and Whites control real estate.  No Negroes allowed.  No.  Webster Kirksey’s as good as dead.  Pretty soon if he doesn’t now he’ll start carrying a flask, then he’ll turn to drugs then a few years from now they’ll find him face down in a gutter somewhere.  Look at him.  You can see it in his eyes, the way his body sags.’

     Dewey looked again.  This time he could see it.  It was there in the slump of the shoulders, the slouch of the body, the forlorn expression on his face.

     Dewey’s bus was called over the loudspeaker much to his relief as he was having a hard time ingesting all that Cranston was telling him.

     ‘Well, there’s my bus, I’ve got to go, Mr. Cranston.  It’s been nice talking to you.’

     Cranston chuckled deeply:  ‘I hope I haven’t overloaded you Son but what I have told you is the truth.  It’s a truth the Liberals will never be let known because it conflicts with their prejudices.  Think about it, learn on your own and then carry the torch of truth and freedom as far as you can.’

       Then with that knowing, mocking deep chuckle Lamont Cranston waved goodbye and moved away.

     Dewey heaved a sigh of relief then looking across the concourse at the figure of the forlorn Negro he whispered:  ‘Good luck, Webster Kirksey.’  To himself he sighed:  ‘Good luck, Dewey Trueman.’  And then he thought:  ‘Good luck, Lamont Cranston’ as the bus pulled out into the sunlight for its run across America.

  The End Of Out Of Africa

Complete and entire in one clip. Approx. 50 pages.

The Hole In Black Mountain

A Novelette


R.E. Prindle

You can’t trust your eyes

When your imagination is out of focus.

–Mark Twain

     On the West Coast of the United States lying between the Coast Range and the Cascade Mountains in the State of Oregon is the Willamette Valley. (Pronounced Will-am-ette) The Valley is about a hundred miles long, twenty to thirty miles wide.  The bulk of Oregon’s population lies in this big valley.  To the north along the once mighty Columbia River, now ‘tamed’ by man’s ingenuity, is Portland, the metropolis of the State.  Sprinkled throughout the Willamette Valley are numerous small towns.  The most important are Salem, which is the State capitol, Albany-Corvallis, the home of Oregon State University and Eugene at the extreme southern end where the mountain chains join and rise.

     Eugene is a fair city.  Luxuriantly green in summer and mild and wet during the winter.  The lordly Willamette River bisects the town as it does all the important towns of the Valley.  Eugene is dominated by two buttes; Skinner’s to the East and Spencer’s to the West.  The soul of Eugeneans is bisected by the dichotomy of good and evil just as the river divides the town and the buttes are its poles.

     Eugene, much to the chagrin of some of its citizens purports to be a Christian town.  It is the intolerant Christianity of the fundamentalist sects.  The town’s more ardent Christian devotees wished to have a symbol of their Christianity above them.  They longed to erect a cross on Skinner’s Butte plainly visible to all the residents on the West Side of the river.  Those Christians less ardent and the non-Christians opposed such a monument.  Whether a heritage of the frontier past or merely an expression innate to their souls, or whether they were possessed by Satan, the ardent Christians in the still of the night erected a huge concrete cross in despite of their neighbors and possibly the law.  This created a furor.  The other citizens demanded the cross be removed.  The fundamentalist Christians defied them to take it down.  Armed patrols paraded the site at night prepared to gun down their neighbors if necessary to protect their cross.  Over the years attempts were made or talk was bruited to dynamite the cross but all efforts were detected and foiled or never came to fruition.

     Thus it was never clear whether the ardent fundamentalists represented God or Satan.  They professed to be one but acted the other.  They believed that evil could be perpetrated for the sake of good.

     In addition to their souls being bisected the souls were also consumed by envy, an unChristian attribute.  They knew how unhappy they were.  They therefore desired that none others should be happier than they.  At about the same time the cross was erected a pop singer by the name of Connie Francis was reachig the apex of an unparalled career.  She had gone from peak to peak of a record of unblemished success.  She was a symbol of wholesomeness and purity.  Too wholesome and pure thought some Eugeneans; no one can be that good.

      Now, at about this time Connie Francis was appearing in New York.  Just prior to going on she was brutally raped.  The consequence was that she was psychologically unable to recover. Her mental equilibrium was destroyed.  She never performed again.  Her brilliant career was turned to dust.  Envy had triumphed.

      A number of young Eugeneans took great pleasure in this sad occurrence.  They were pleased that that symbol of success had been destroyed.  They went so far in their minds as to transpose the situation to Eugene believing that Miss Francis was about to go on stage in Eugene and that one of them had committed the atrocity.  They could point out the motel she stayed at and everything.  The story was confidently and intimately told to others.

     Dewey Trueman drove into town with high academic hopes.  He hoped for a brilliant post-graduate career.  Dewey came up from California where he had lived for the previous six years.  Those six years coincided with the first six years of the fabulous sixties.  Years of unparalleled prosperity; years of maturation of world popular music; years of cultural changes that moved too fast for hide bound minds to contemplate.  The Beat movement of post-war years had developed into the Hippie counter-culture.  Inexplicably men had begun to grow long hair.  Complex ethnic problems had created student unrest on the college campuses.  The storm had centered on the campus of the University of California at Berkeley.

     Envy caused Eugeneans to profess to despise California.  Cars carried bumper stickers that read:  Don’t Californicate Oregon.  The very thought of Berkeley terrified Oregonians both on and off campus.  The fear was that those damned radicals might come up to Oregon.  Dewey had not attended U.C. Berkeley but had gone through the State college system in Hayward just to the South of Berkeley.  He had formerly had long hair but informed of the narrow attitude in Oregon he had trimmed it to above the collar in back and just touching the ears.  This was not good enough;  Oregon was whitewall country.  Trueman did not respond well to the bullying he received to show whitewalls.  He defied them.  He let his hair grow back.  The locks fell not only down over his collar but over his ears.  His situation deteriorated further.  He soon realized that his college career was going to be cut short shorn of brilliance.  He had better create a new dream.  At the end of his second year the axe fell.  He recieved a letter advising him that he was not of an academic disposition.

     This was probably not untrue although not reason for dismissal.  But then Trueman was not of a corporate disposition either or, indeed, any other.  He was a lone carrot growing in a potato patch.  A very good carrot and worth cultivating but not a potato.  Dewey took the news more sullenly.  He thought, and this was not incorrect either, that the reason for his dismissal was that he wouldn’t get down on his knees for the professors.  In fact the history department was studded with homosexuals.  These gentlemen did have the casting couch mentality.  As all power corrupts they had determined to break Dewey down to his knees.  But there is no changing history; Dewey was out.

     He had anticipated this development.  He was neither a stupid nor obtuse man.  He also knew from experience that he had little hope of success in a corporate environment.  He was now thirty; there was no reason to look for a job.  Consequently he had opened a record store at the beginning of his second year.  His store was now prospering.  He gave up his dream and took up a hope.

     Dewey’s store was downtown on Eleventh Street, actually in the shadow of the famous cross upon the hill.  Not Calvary, but Skinner’s Butte.  Selling records meant selling Rock n’ Roll.  Fundamentalist Christians saw Rock n’ Roll as the Devil’s music.  One who sold the Devil’s music must be a Son of Satan.  A few years on the Fundamentalists would invent the concept and seriously propound it on TV that by playing records backward one could hear Satan talking to you.

     Well, this is more serious than an intelligent person might think.  I don’t want to laugh when I tell you this although it is sublimely ridiculous.  Every store must have a name.  Dewey’s Records was out.  Dewey was a fan of an astonishing rock group named The Doors.  He especially adimired two songs off the first album.  Soul Kitchen and Crystal Ship.  He inclined toward Soul Kitchen, if you’re hip chuckle, but his wife persuaded him, wisely one believes, to call it The Crystal Ship.  This was too simple and straightforward for Trueman who inclined toward the religious or mystical.  Also it was the fashion of the day to change the spelling of common words as the rock groups had changed Beetles to Beatles and birds to Byrds.  Dewey dropped the article and changed the spelling to Chrystalship.  The similarity to Christ was intentional but ill-advised.  Music to Dewey had that connotation of salvation.  Indeed, if Chrystalship was successful it would carry him to salvation.

     It was not his intention to offend the Boxtop Clergy but they construed the spelling as an intentional insult.  And this by a Son of Satan selling the Devil’s music in the Shadow of the Cross.  Not only did Trueman offend the Boxtoppers (Very few of these guys who called themselves Ministers had ever seen the inside of a seminary or had theological training or even elementary education.  For ten dollars or less you could answer advertisements in newspapers for ordination in some bizarre church.  Hence for a cereal boxtop and a few dollars you could wear a collar.)  with Chrystalship but he astounded the Hippies with his daring.  Unknown to Trueman crystal was a term to designate the drug speed, or, by its proper name, amphetamines.  They thought the store was a cover to sell speed.  The Boxtoppers and citizens got wind of this definition before Trueman and converted the term to mean heroin.  You can see Trueman’s predicament.

     Thus exalted by their cross combined with their natural malignancy and envy they immediately outlawed Trueman and made him a non-person.  No one was to acknowledge his existence.  They also loaded him with all their sins which were so numerous he could only carry a portion at a time.  He was confirmed in their minds as a degenerate and pervert not only capable of anything but actually doing everything they wanted to and enjoying it.

     These were stressful times.  Even educated people set aside their critical faculties and believed their worst fears.  Because Trueman had come up from California and because he was first on campus with long hair and because student unrest reached Oregon with Dewey the faculty had cast Trueman in the role of mastermind.  This was absurd.  There was absolutely no evidence to confirm the opinion, but then when one wants to see what one wants to see none is needed.  This reputation on campus was converted into the notion that Trueman was certainly masterminding the drug trade of Eugene, probably Oregon and possibly the whole world.  A twenty-four hour a day watch was set on him.

     All Hippies were deemed stupid.  It was thought that none could succeed in business.  Indeed, a few Hippie businessmen had come and gone before Trueman.  He had been given what was thought to be an impossible location.  In ordinary circumstances it may have been but for a counter culture business the location was perfect.  The store prospered.  Trueman extended his store into an adjacent space in the deserted building.  This made the town fathers uneasy.  They expected him to close up not expand.  Then Trueman approached the landlord to rent the large vacant space formerly occupied by the town’s leading men’s clothier.  That space fronted the main street.  Willamette was the main drag,  the street down which every Friday and Saturday night the town’s teenagers drove their cars.  The street was a dragster’s dream.  Twenty-four blocks, nearly, from Butte to Butte. 

     Urban renewal was ubiquitous during the sixties.  Even little Eugene had such a thing.  There was little to renew but it was fashionable and provided jobs for dependents.  Urban renewal bought the building the month after Dewey’s inquiry.  Dewey was given thirty days to vacate, even before the deal was out of escrow.  He was told there was no room downtown for the likes of him.  The building was immediately demolished leaving a huge gaping hole in the ground that filled with water and existed for years in that manner.  There was no room in Eugene for Dewey.  Very likely it was hoped there was no room in Oregon for him.

     Trueman was in a desperate frame of mind.  In the two years at the location he had gone from a deficit of one month to an income by which his wife could quit working for what he called ‘the slugs of the Oregon Department of Employment.’  It was true that it was a very good thing for those boys that sexual harassment was not yet an issue for they were an evil crew.

     The thought that his independence was to be taken away from him drove him into a frenzy of activity.  There was only one suitable space available downtown.  That was a dilapidated building on the edge of respectability next to the main branch of the Universal National Bank of Oregon.  A mighty triple contradictions of terms that typified the mentality we are dealing with.

     The employees of UNB would have done anything to keep Dewey out.  The building was owned by a Mrs. Winsome.  She would have honored UNB’s request but for the fact that in their lawless disregard of other people’s rights they had trampled on hers.  While digging the foundations for their bank they had undermined the foundations of Mrs. Winsome’s building.  The brick wall had begun to buckle.  The repairs cost a vast amount not to correct but merely to arrest the collapse.  The wall now bulged inward noticeably.  Her recourse to law had been futile and expensive.  According to her the bank had said:  Stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.  She may have been exaggerating nevertheless it was with a fair amount of pleasure that she installed Dewey next to her enemies at the Universal National Bank Of Oregon.

     The new space was twice as big as the former store.  Trueman’s sales more than doubled.  It soon became apparent to the town fathers that Trueman might survive the move and actually expansion.  In the meantime they lost a golden opportunity to destroy him through their own shortsightedness.  Urban Renewal had decided to make a mall of downtown.  Thus three blocks each of Willamette and Broadway were torn up to make a pedestrian mall.  To spite Trueman the mall was stopped short of his building ostensibly leaving him outside the blessing.  Thus his business was not disturbed by construction and the parking spaces in front of his store were left intact.  Had they included his space they could have heaped an eight foot mound of earth in front of his door as they had done to one or two others who were also in disfavor.

      Realizing their mistake too late, after the mall was completed Urban Renewal condemned the building, gave Mrs. Winsome nothing for it as punishment for having rented to Trueman and gave Dewey thirty days notice.  Now, at this time there were no suitable vacant spaces downtown.  The faces of the town fathers tilted back and looked down their noses at Trueman with a warm smile of spite.

     Dewey’s brow knitted with care.  He no longer had just independence but an income which gave him some enjoyment of life.  He didn’t want it taken from him.  As he assayed the situation he noted that a women’s clothing store called the Orange Garden had just opened a new large store on Willamette and retained an original store two block away on Broadway.  They were at an impasse with the landlord over rent.  Dewey reasoned that Eugene was too small to support two stores two blocks apart, especially as a shopping mall was on the books for across town,  and that he would be doing them a favor if he could get the space.  As it turned out he was as the Orange Garden shut down two years later.

     Dewey approached the landlord.  He agreed to the landlord’s terms.  The landlord, in what he called fairness to the Orange Garden gave them a last offer which they refused.  The landlord then rented to Dewey.  The new location was twice as large as the former location.  Dewey had taken the lease with some trepidation but his sales immediately doubled and continued to rise.  Dewey tried to be cool but he was ecstatic.  The towns people looked on sourly.  As Dogie Doudous put it:  No one should look that prosperous.

     For the first time in Trueman’s life everything seemed to be going his way.   The town fathers turned their backs to him and grew pensive.  There was little they could do to his business now.  His building was up to code.  He was in the new mall across from the prestigious department store called the Bonne Chance.  They still tried a few things.  Dead rabbits were stowed in the power tunnel beneath the front of his store which gave off a fetid odor across the front of the store but Trueman’s business still flourished.  It was after all the heyday of the record industry.  People who had never bought records before now did and lots of them.  Trueman had avoided giving the store a head shop image.  Everyone could shop in comfort in his store.  It had an ecumenical atmosphere.

1o pages.

     The town fathers now knitted their brows sitting around in deep concentration.  It was decided unanimously and without a word of discussion,  Dewey Trueman must die.  This was no joke.

     Plans were made; the delivery of the ‘Death Warrant’ was entrusted to Teddy Tetou.  Teddy was on the staff of KGEN radio.  He had his own time slot from 8:00 to 12:00 AM as well as serving as a salesman.  KGEN was the official radio station of the town fathers.  No Rock n’ Roll disgraced its wavelength.  Neither did many listeners tune in except for the very old and cantankerous.  This rankled the town fathers who deplored the degradation of youth.  KGEN served as call letters for both the radio and TV stations.  The company had petitioned the FCC for the call letters KEUGENE.  This would have made them the only seven letter station in America.  The FCC refused.  The refusal was met indignantly by the station owners.  They didn’t see how it would hurt the FCC to change their entire system just for them.  As they were wont to say:  Where is it written in stone that call letters could only number four?  They were correct.  It wasn’t written in stone anywhere, but the FCC still maintained it was the rule and the FCC made the rule.  The FCC was a hated arbitrary authority figure in Eugene.

     Tueman’s success had not been accidental.  He had applied intelligence.  He had taken chances.  In his way he had overturned the way of doing business in Eugene.  He had proven that their rules weren’t written in stone either.  They took offence because they had meant to do that but just hadn’t gotten around to actually chiseling the letters.  In Dewey’s case it was noted that he was a disturber of the peace and an unwholesome presence.

     The merchants of Eugene believed they were dependent upon the University Of Oregon for most of their business.  Thus in the summer months when school was out of session they reduced their inventories to bare bones and waited for September.  In Trueman’s first year he was just beginning to do well when June rolled around.  He was cordially advised to reduce his inventory.   But in the record industry new releases come out continually.  Keeping up with them financially is the most difficult part of the business.  It doesn’t take long to lose your rhythm and fall behind.  Besides Dewey was too inexperienced to know how to reduce his inventory.  The hits would sell off and slow moving catalog would remain.

     Dewey plowed ahead amidst the laughter of more knowing heads.  But his business didn’t decrease, it expanded at an incredible rate.  At the end of the first August Dewey’s head was reaching for the clouds.  When the U of O returned his business shot into what he then thought was the stratosphere.  Dewey Trueman followed along.  He bought and sold, sold and bought.  His second summer was just as successful.  By the third summer the other merchants had learned their lesson from him, but they didn’t like him any the more for their increased prosperity.  They learned their lesson from him painfully.  They hated him for it.  Quite innocently and without intention he had proved them wrong.

     Dewey wanted to do big business in a bad way.  Perhaps as a joke they sent the towns top Rock n’ Roll, or rather Top Forty DJ, Bob Deal, ‘Your Fifth Wheel’ as he styled himself, to sell Dewey radio time.  Dewey hadn’t inquired because he thought advertising on the radio would be too expensive.  This was in 1968, but he found from Bob Deal that thirty second spots only cost three dollars each.  For a hundred dollars a week he could, as the saying goes, own the station.  As he was rapt in thought Deal laughingly excused himself thinking he had played a good joke.  He was out the door when Trueman recovered himself shouting:  ‘No, no, Bob.  Don’t leave.  Come back.  I’ll take a hundred dollars a week.’

     The Fifth Wheel stopped on a dime.  There were few, heck there were no, merchants buying a hundred dollars a week. 

     ‘The first week’s in advance.’  He blurted.

     Trueman did his own copy and on air delivery.  The advertising was instrumental in his success.  But the Son Of Satan in the Shadow Of The Cross drove his enemies mad with his ‘constant bleating’ on the air.

     The success of his radio advertising made Trueman want to try TV.  It was thought that TV was prohibitively expensive.  This was 1971.  As Trueman saw it ten dollars for thirty seconds could be made to pay.  As soon as he opened on Broadway he began a TV campaign.  He did his own spots on the tube also.  Thus not only had he succeeded despite all efforts to eliminate him but he now appeared nightly in the living rooms of the very people who hated him the most.  Compared to what had happened to Connie Francis, Trueman, they thought, would not be treated so tenderly.

     On February 14, St. Valentine’s Day, Teddy Tetou showed up at Chrystalship at closing time with Trueman’s ‘Death Warrant’ in his pocket.  He entered with an air of hostility and undertones of viciousness which characterized the heralds sent to deal with Dewey.  The general rule was that only the lowest of the low were to communicate directly with Trueman.  He had been slandered to such an extent as a sexual pervert, whatever that might have meant in Eugene,  and drug addict that no one except those of such a mind would try to talk to him.  Since he was not a drug addict or a sexual pervert he ignored any attempts of this sort to communicate with him.  As a radio time salesman Tetou had reason to talk to him, but Tetou had made himself so obnoxious toTrueman by his denunciation of Rock n’ Roll that he was no longer welcome even as a salesman.

     Accordingly as he truculently burst the swinging doors open he was greeted with an equally truculent:  ‘What do you want here in the House of Rock n’ Roll, Tetou?’

     As the townsfolk invariably mispronounced his own name in a variety of ways such as Divi Traubman, Dewey who fought to be cool under pressure, but despised the principle of mispronunciation, nevertheless broke down from time to time and imitated his enemies.  Even then it was difficult to distinguish whether he had said Teddy or Titty.  Tetou winced but as he had been through it before and now anticipated it he said nothing.

     ‘I just came down here as someone in the same industry to talk music.’  Tetou offered as the cash register noisily closed out another day.

     ‘What’s to talk about, Titty?  You reject the culture of your day for an atavistic attachment to the tunes of yesteryear.  You want to live in your Daddy’s world rather than your own.  Why don’t you go back to KEUGENE?  I live in a different world.’

     Tetou disregarded everything Trueman had said.

     ‘Yeah, well, you know, just because Creedence Clearwater Revival has had five hits in a row doesn’t mean they’re going to go on forever.’  Tetou foamed.  ‘Nobody has more than five hits before they miss.  Even your Rock n’ Rollers.  Just watch, Clarence Clangwater Removal if going to fall on their ass next time out.’

     Tetou who shared the prejudices of his fellow Eugeneans despised the notion of continued success.  He hated prosperity in others.  CCR could have been Johnny Mathis or Andy Willians for all that matter.  Tetou didn’t really care.  The important thing was that any success fade away.

     ‘I wouldn’t be surprised, Titty.  No one has ever gone on forever.  Even your hero Bing Crosby told Pat Boone of the white bucks that he would only be popular for seven years.  That’s how Crosby who knew a hell of a lot more about the cycle than you do appraised it.  Besides Titty, future failure does not wipe out past success.’  Trueman went on misunderstanding Tetou’s real objection.  Tetou on his part was hoping Trueman would affirm his point of view.

     Tetou glared at Trueman.  His kind was only successful in their dreams.  Even then it was only a petty kind of success equal to their abilities.  Brows knit, hands in pockets, legs spread Tetou abusively changed the subject without admitting his defeat.

     ‘Yeah?  If you’re finished here Trueman, come with me.  I want to show you something.’  Tetou ordered.  He tried to cover his lack of manhood by bullying.

     ‘Oh, you want to show me something.  I’m sure anything you’ve got to show me shouldn’t be seen by mortal man…or woman.’  Trueman chuckled, insultingly, laughing appreciatively at his own joke.

     ‘Close this place up and come with me.’  Tetou ordered roughly.  They had created such an image of their own virtue and Trueman’s vice in their minds that they were quite unable to distinguish between fiction and reality.

     ‘Who the hell do you think you are to order me around, Tetou?  You’re nothing but a time salesman for the crummiest radio station in town.  Nobody advertises with you but your stooges.  I’m not going to, so take your schedule and get out of here.  Leave.’

     Tetou realized his error and now cajoled and implored Trueman to come lest he fail in his mission.  Trueman perceived the reason for the urgency behind his voice.  Something’s up.  Trueman thought,  I think I’ll see what.

     ‘Lead on, MacDuff.’  He said in his most contemptuous tone.  ‘Let’s see what you know, Tetou.’

     Trueman turned the key in the lock as Tetou pointed vaguely in the direction of what turned out to be Railroad Avenue.  Tetou led the way to a house that has since been demolished, as though that could destroy a bad memory, for freeway construction.  They stood on the corner beneath a stree light.  The corner lot was vacant.  They looked across the vacant lot at a two story rectangular house.  The house had been divided into apartments above and below.  The upstairs apartment was reached by a staircase along the side of the house.

     What Trueman saw was a long line of people stretching from the top of the stairs along the side of the house and turning down the sidewalk to the end of the block.  Occasionally the line turned the corner.  Those who entered the door at the top of the stairs quickly emerged and raced down the stairs and away.  As quickly as the line moved forward others took a place at the end of the line.

     Tetou gave Trueman a malevolent look of satisfaction as though Trueman were responsible.

     ‘You know what’s going on there, Trueman?’  He said smugly, expecting a guilty reaction from him.

     ‘No, Titty, what’s going on there?’  Trueman replied his derision overcome by wonder.

     Tetou gave him a look that implied:  Coy to the end.

     ‘Do you know lives upstairs there, Trueman?’

     ‘Aw skip it, Tetou, just get to the point.  How can I ever know what you people are talking about?’

     ‘Jim James lives up there.  Do you know what he does for a living, Trueman?’

     Trueman turned to leave.  ‘Aw, for Christ’s sake Tetou, can’t you people ever get to the point?’

     Tetou grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back.

     ‘I’ll tell you what he’s doing, Trueman.  He’s selling marijuana.  What do you think of that?’

     Trueman’s jaw unhinged as he stopped in his tracks.  He perceived in a flash the entire situation.  He gave Tetou an incredulous look.  Tetou gave Trueman a vicious nod of affirmation.  Trueman realized that Tetou was ignorant of who his masters were.

     ‘What do you think is going on there, Titty?’  Trueman asked with malicious satisfaction.

     Tetou responded with a knowing look at Trueman.

     ‘Someone’s making a lot of money and it’s not just Jimmy James.’

     ‘Who do you think it is, Tetou?’

     Tetou just sneered and gazed at Trueman knowingly.

     ‘Me?  Oh no, Titty, oh no.  I don’t have anything to do with drugs, regardless of what you think.  Do you really think I would be walking around free if I were involved in that?  Do you really think I have contacts to get away with that?’  Tetou blinked.  ‘No, Titty, no, of course not.  Look at that line.  Does this go on every night?  Night in and night out?’  Tetou blinked yes.  ‘Then you aren’t going to tell me that the DA and the police don’t know about this are you?’

      Tetou thought a minute.  ‘They must not or they’d arrest him.’  He said lamely.

     ‘How do you know about it, Tetou?’

     ‘The guys down at the station talk about it all the time.’

     ‘So the owners of the station know about it?’

     Tetou assented. 

     ‘The owners of the station know about and they’re big men in town.  A word from them to the police…hell, it wouldn’t even take a word to the police, all it would take is a TV camera down here and all those people would scatter.  It doesn’t happen.  Doesn’t that tell you something, Tetou?’

     Tetou had realized the truth but had gone into a state of panicked denial.  He was busy rearranging reality to fit his prejudices.  Trueman on his part realized why Tetou had been directed to show him this scene.  Drugs was big business.  At certain points in the distribution line big money was to be made.  The town fathers thought that Trueman was surreptitiously making a fortune from drugs.  They now wished to show him their power to make fortunes without fear of arrest.  As Trueman understood it they were telling him to stick that up his nose.

     ‘You know why the cops don’t bust this guy, Tetou?’  Tetou was sweating from the shock, he weakly nodded no.  ‘Because they’re in on it.  Because they’re getting their share of the Big Money.  Look at that line, Tetou.  How many lids do you think that guy sells every night?  Three, five, ten kilos worth?  You know what that means Tetou?  No, huh?  In business terms that means that there are probably three hundred kilos in transit every month just for him.  He must have ten, twenty or thirty kilos in the house at all times.  There must be a warehouse with at least a hundred kilos in storage.  That’s enough to fill a semi or maybe the trunks of hundred cars.  The cops can’t break this?

     Have you ever read any history, Titty?  I wouldn’t think so.  There is no illegal or subversive organization that has ever existed at any time in the world that wasn’t half spies.  There was no labor union that wasn’t half labor spies.  The Communist Party was always half government agents.  They always shoot for secretary of the organization and they always get it.  Do you believe that half the dope dealers in the country aren’t government agents?  Are you people really so stupid Tetou that you don’t think that I don’t know that half my employees are your own spies?  I don’t know anyone who talks to me that isn’t spying, present company not excepted.  You guys are sick; you never get evidence but you never give up your fantasy.  Now I see why.  You need me as a cover for this.

     A couple of years ago I was taken to see some yo-yos who were conspiring to ‘overthrow the government.’  Do you know how many of his ‘organization’ weren’t spies?  Spies were the only ones involved.

     So the cops can bust this guy anytime they want.  You could bust me anytime if I were doing anything.  So why don’t they bust him?  You got any idea how much money they’re making at fifteen dollars a lid, Titty?  Probably somewhere between two or three million a year.  Who’s making it?  I don’t know many people in town Titty, but you can be sure that several shares are distributed to the DA and cops.  Harry Grabstein and Natty Segal who run downtown are getting theirs.  The TV and radio stations are silent so they must be getting theirs.  You don’t see any ‘crusading’ newspaper reporters trying to expose this, so what do you think that means?  Who the others are I don’t know but you can be sure that at least a couple hundred people are involved.  So you guys control the cops and judges.  I’m impressed, Tetou.  Bye bye.’

20 pages.

     Tetou’s mind was swimming as he dogged Trueman’s footsteps.  For a brief moment before denial secured his mind he realized the truth.  He also remembered the ‘death warrant’ he was to deliver.

     ‘Yeha, well, hey, Trueman,’ he said padding after the rapidly striding figure before him, ‘they want your business at KGEN-TV so they told me to give you this.’  He said holding out a folded paper at Trueman’s back.  Trueman didn’t pause.  Tetou ran after him, catching up he thrust the paper in front of Dewey.  Trueman grabbed it and threw it on the ground in disgust.  Tetou quickly snatched it up running after Trueman.  this time he stuffed it in Trueman’s jacket pocket.  Trueman turned with raised fist in the dark.  ‘Get away from me, Tetou, you scumbag, or I’ll deck you with one punch, so help me God.’

     ‘That’s a certificate for a free weekend at the Hole In Black Mountain, Trueman.  Use it.’  Tetou said, scurrying away into the black having gotten the certificate onto Trueman’s person.  He was able to say that he had accomplished his mission.

     Trueman stormed home to pur himself a drink, dangerous habit, to calm himself so as not to offend his wife Angie by his violent mental agitation.  He had no intention of using his ‘death warrant’; the ‘free’ weekend at the Hole In Black Mountain.  He should have thrown the certificate into the trash but some plebian trait of mind ascribed value to the thing.  He couldn’t bring himself to throw something of value away.  He stuffed it into a drawer of papers.

     He knew that some humiliation had been devised for him at the Black Mountain Resort.  He feared assassination attempts but the notion was unreal in his mind, more a premonition of paranoia then anything else.  Yet he was right to be apprehensive, there was no paranoia involved.

     It had been supposed that Trueman would jump at the offer; use it that very same weekend.  All the preparations for his murder had been made.  When no reservation was made the whole plan remained in suspended animation in the minds of the conspirators.

     They had met some weeks before when it became apparent to them that Trueman had evaded their snares.  When they saw his very apparent increased success they knew then that something positive would have to be done.

     Half by election and half by self-selection a band of four evolved who were entrusted by their community to execute its wishes.  They in turn by a series of chance meetings in restaurants and on streets came to recognize and accept each other as co-conspirators.

     Once they recognized each other a series of meetings was held in the law offices of Joshua L. Babycakes to determine a course of action.  The final decision had been reached the week before the unconsciously held deadline of St. Valentine’s Day on which Trueman had been shown their money machine on Railroad Avenue.

     The four were not of the first water, that is that they were not of the inner circle of the inner circle, but they were of the circle.  They had the same walk and knew the same talk.  There would be no questioning of their decision; it would not require consent.  They were trustworthy fellows.

     Joshua Babycakes had achieved his pre-eminence despite very limited material success.  He was a native of Eugene.  This placed his father and grandfather before the turn of the century.  Oregon towns only developed in the latter quarter of the nineteenth century so that seventy-five to a hundred years of residence gave a family antiquity.

    Babycakes’ family had been in on the landgrab.  They had had a couple thousand acres of high timber which they had sold to the Western Timberlands Corp. before it had become practicable to clearcut the land.  Joshua had gone to the U of O law school where he had somehow found the discipline, or, at least, he had the contacts, to graduate.

     Babycakes was not of a settled or subtle mind.  In one of those incredible twists of the human mind his stumbled over the question of small distinctions.  He couldn’t bring his mind to accept small distinctions.  His character had formed around the nucleus of an incident when he was twelve years old just as puberty shot its growth hormones throughout his body and mind.

     Joshua’s father was a stamp collector.  He had an extensive collection of US stamps.  Not a philatelist’s dream necessarily but enough to knock your socks off.  Joshua had one day needed postage to mail a small package.  Since he couldn’t find stamps in the drawer he got out his father’s stamp collection and sent his addressee a very valuable collection of rare postage stamps.  Well, you can imagine his father’s reaction when he discovered his loss.  It wasn’t visceral, it was genetic.  His A! gene became detached.  His rage was communicated to Joshua as a disease.

     Joshua had never been able to comprehend his father’s reaction.  To him, a stamp was a stamp.  Three cents printed on one was the same as three cents printed on another.  Except that the pictures were different they all looked the same.  Joshua in his turn became chronically enraged; nor did his understanding improve.  He failed to understand why one bottle of wine should cost fifty dollars while another bottle of wine should sell for three.  ‘There, look at the label,’ he would say to himself or anyone chancing to stand by him in a store, ‘They both have the same alcoholic content.  One bottles gets you as drunk as the other.  What kind of fool would take the one for fifty dollars?’

    He therefore concluded that only big fools would pay more than three dollars and he despised ‘fools’ of any quality.  If Joshua Babycakes thought you were a fool he thought you were fair game.  As Babycakes set his own ignorance as the standard of conduct you may be sure that he had yet to find a man who wasn’t a fool.  Therefore in his rage he lashed out at everyone.

     The fact is that most people weren’t fools except in the sense of Puck’s:  Oh, what fools ye mortals be.  People accordingly gave Babycakes a wide berth.

     Notwithstanding his graduation, the fine points of the law eluded Babycake’s grasp.  He was therefore so unreasonable before judges, all of whom he knew well, that he was really not welcome in court.  As he treated his clients in the same way his success as an attorney was very limited.

     He was slowly ruining the estate his father had passed down.  He was soon to use Urban Renewal to buy the properties downtown his father had left him.  They sat vacant and rundown because no one would deal with him after they had met him.

     In his rage however he was dangerous so nobody ever called him.  He was treated with kid gloves.  He was able to use his rage to maintain his position.  He was, in fact, a dangerous man.  His second floor office facing Willamette was enshrouded in perpetual gloom as he never allowed light to enter.  Even his lamp was of the dimmest so that, actually without business, he sat in the dark and brooded.  The room hadn’t been cleaned for years.  Papers dating back perhaps two decades were scattered about.

     Seated with him in this depressing setting was the owner of KGEN Radio and TV, Jeremiah (Jerry) Durkin.  His ownership of KGEN must be qualified.  He had been a salesman when the station was under its former management.  It had been bought by a general partnership headquartered in Seattle about three hundred miles to the North.  Jerry had been offered a ten per cent share in the ownership if he would manage the channel at a salary well below the industry norm.  Jerry jumped at the chance.  He mortgaged himself to the hilt to buy his share.  He was in fact now worth less than nothing.  It was a pleasure to him to be in the company of, associated with the big men.  He honestly had no idea he was a stooge.  He had been in his position for over a year now having realized no material advantages.  By the end of the year he would be on the street with nothing but a load of debt.

     There was a rumor that General Motors would build an assembly plant in Eugene as well as the entry of a couple of other large concerns.  The resultant growth of Eugene would make KGEN-TV a relatively valuable property.  It was decided by the Seattle big men to snap up Jerry’s ten per cent and get him out so as not to have to share the bonanza.  A series of losses were then manufactured for the partnership.  Jerry was not able to meet the levy and thus went to work tending bar.

     If the Seattle people had known the strength of the Little Eugene Party they would have let Jerry alone.  The Little Eugene Party was against change or growth of any kind.  They controlled the town.  Thus neither GM nor any one else was permitted to locate in Eugene.  Even aggressive local concerns were driven out.  The Seattle big men outmaneuvered themselves at fair cost.

     But that was in the future.  For the present Jerry Durkin reveled in his new found position of authority.  His life was a salesman’s dream.  Jerry didn’t realize he was a stooge in this instance either.  He was only included as a fall guy.  He was the expendable one in case anything misfired.  If it all came down, it would come down on him.  But there was actually no chance of that.

     He was a physical contrast to Joshua Babycakes.  the latter was a rough uncouth unkempt man given to wearing his clothes as though he crawled into them.  Durkin was a very precise dresser.  Small and thin he might have been seen as prissy.  He wore a double knit leisure suit in such a manner that the jacket resembled a Nehru jacket.  Even while sitting the opening was only about two inches wide.  The collar was high.  To show an unconventionality that no one would question he knotted his tie four-in-hand rather than Windsor, which latter style was de rigeur.

     Babycakes on the other hand wore a pinkish maroon pair of double knit pants topped by a garishly loud giant houndstooth pattern in the same tones.  His tie may have been knotted in some way or not, it may have been of a color that could be associated with a palette, who could tell.

     Next to Durkin was the Reverend Jim Jones.  I would call Jones a Fundamentalist but the boxtop he sent in for ordination may not even have been affiliated with religion of any kind.  His certificate just made him a generic religious type.  He did use the Bible however.  At any rate the Old Testament which he ostentatiously carried with him had the cover conspicuously torn off so that his Bible, like himself, had one cover missing.  Jones was virtually illiterate like all his kind.  He hadn’t even graduated from high school.  Still, as he said, when he received the call he knew he had to answer it.  His message was vengeance and hate disguised as patriotism and conservatism.  He didn’t lack an audience.

     The fourth member of the party was the Patriarch of Downtown, Harry Grabstein.  Harry was the Jewish member.  He was there to listen and observe for the Community lest anything happen that wasn’t good for the Jews.

     There was no point in describing Jones’ dress; beyond the absurdity of the clerical collar one would be hard put to say he was dressed.  The others were dressed in varying degrees of bad taste.  Harry was the exception.  He was a very meticulous dresser from his carefully combed and parted hair to the glowing polished wingtips encasing his feet.  Wingtips look bad after a lot of wear.  Harry never wore his more than thirty times before they were discarded.

     He wore a pair of charcoal grey pants of the finest wool lined in real silk.  His white shirt was of the finest sea island cotton.  His tie cost thirty dollars, a lot at the time.  It was of a woven tiny latticework design which viewed in one light seemed of one color but with a small shift in posture the recessed areas changed through one or two other tones while the original color always dominated.  It was a masterpiece of deviousness.  The knot was an impeccable Windsor.  The jacket was a magnificent plaid symphony of grays in kashmere.  Harry’s clothes always looked like they had just come back from the cleaners.  An impossibly precise trimmed mustache resided beneath his nose.  His face was stolid, grave and composed but betrayed un undertone of anxiety beneath the facade which indicated a deeply seated insecurity.  His knees were crossed, over which lay his right arm, the hand of which lightly held an unlighted straight stemmed polished briar pipe.  His was a carefully structured appearance to instill confidence.  Harry was, in fact, a confidence man.  Harry, as he smilingly observed the others was quite content with himself.

     Grabstein owned a furniture store downtown, since out of business.  He had helped his father build it.  He was not a good buyer.  His retailing methods, if ever sound, were antiquated.  Still, he was one of only two shows in town.  The other was the House of Segal owned by Nachman, Nahum to any Hebraists reading, Segal.  He was known as Natty.  The two of them regulated the Jewish community, which was of some size in Eugene, as well as controlling affairs downtown.

     The Jewish world at the time was being revolutionized by a crazy Rabbi by the name of Meir Kahane.  Kahane could really talk and write convincingly.  Even if crazy he expressed his ideas clearly and forcibly.  The Jewish establishment disclaimed him and, I think, truly despised him but his impact was immense.  He forced the Jewish establishment to go his way.  He had formed an organization called the Jewish Defense League, or JDL.  Its avowed purpose was to assassinate ‘anti-Semites.’  The extermination of the Jews was a bleeding wound to Kahane and the JDL.  The notion was that if Hitler had been assassinated in the twenties millions of Jews would be alive today.  It therefore behooved the JDL to assassinate any incipient ‘Hitlers’ before these ‘Hitlers’ had a chance to contrive to exterminate the Jews again.  Kahane had no historical perspective.

     Well, of course, several attempts had been made on Hitler’s life but they all had failed.  The attempts hadn’t even been made by Jews so far as we know.  Even then one couldn’t be sure that Hitler would do what he did or even imagine it.  Hind sight is always twenty-twenty.  But, you know,  Hitler was not only one in a billion but he lived in a historical milieu which made his actions possible.  That milieu had been created largely by Jews.  Both Hitler and the milieu vanished into Trotsky’s famous ashcan.  Hitler was no longer possible.  There was nothing for rational man to fear.

     Even though the Jewish Establishment disavowed Kahane the fear of another Hitler pervaded the Jewish mind.  Witness the movies from ‘Hitler’s Brain’ to ‘The Boys From Brazil’ to ‘The Exterminator.’

     Harry Grabstein was afflicted with this paranoid fear.  He and Natty Segal were constantly on the lookout for…’The anti-Semite.’  Now every goi in town had to come to Harry to submit their manhood to him to pledge their troth that they would not become the next Hitler.

     Dewey Trueman hadn’t.  He couldn’t.  He had been outlawed, made a non-person from the outset.  Grabstein had actually expressed his displeasure of the little hippie boy.  He had refused to even discuss renting one of his properties to him.  As a transplant from California Dewey had had only the vaguest notion of who Harry Grabstein was.  He had been pushed in Harry’s direction.  He had been advised of the power of the ‘Jewish Mafia.’  But a non-person has no obligations.  Thus he had never pledged his submission to the Jewish people.  Harry could draw only one conclusion.

30 pages.

     ‘He is an anti-Semite.’  Harry said in a calm voice just above a whisper.  ‘We can’t take any chances of another Hitler developing.’

     You should be laughing but you’re not.  Harry didn’t mean it as a joke but it is funny, even ludicrous.  Dewey Trueman had no political ambitions.  Another Hitler?

     No one of the conspirators even smiled.  They looked at Harry, swallowed and blinked.  To have offered an objection would have been to confess anti-Semitism.  They didn’t even know what an anti-Semite was.  Nobody does.  It has never been defined, legally or otherwise.  The term has no, or had, things have changed since this was first written, no legal status nor should it.  Nevertheless it has immense social status; it is the kiss of death in American society.  ‘He is an anti-Semite.’  He is beyond the pale of society.  No proof is necessary, none is asked for.  Send a torpedo at him.  Sink him.  Does anyone here remember the McCarthy era?

     Thus the decision to kill Trueman had been reached.  The code word placing Trueman beyond the Pale had been uttered.  ‘Anti-Semite.’  Prior to 1950 the gois had placed Jews beyond the pale when the word ‘Jew’ showed up as the religion of the applicant.  Since 1950 Jewish bigotry had replaced goi bigotry.  With the simple utterance of the word ‘anti-Semite’ an American could be excommunicated in his own land by his own people in favor of a foreign and enemy nation.

     The three looked again at Harry Grabstein, blinked again in acquiescence then began to order their minds to justify their action.  It wasn’t hard to do.  Morality had been corrupted by the notion that you have to fight fire with fire.  Dirty Harrys roamed the streets enforcing their personal brand of ‘justice.’  Trueman stood as a symbol of their frustrations.  There was little to do but load them on him and drive him to the slaughter.

     The only one present who knew who he was, where he had come from, where he wanted to be and how to get there was Harry Grabstein.  He could do a fair job of recounting the four thousand year record of the Jews.  He knew the pitfalls and the goals.  His one little candle was burning bright.

     The others were beset by vague fears and apprehensions.  None of them had ever cogitated on anything but ‘beer.’  The American history of the last seventy years was closed to them.  O, they knew heroes and villains.  The knew enough to applaud Roosevelt and hiss McCarthy but beyond that they were out of their depth.

     They were incapable of analyzing the effect of immigration or race on themselves.  All they knew was that White guys were bad and everyone else was good.  White guys had dropped the Atom Bomb hadn’t they?  They knew so little that they thought Werner Von Braun had developed the A-Bomb.  The fact the the A-Bomb was a Jewish development would have been vigorously denied by them.  They didn’t know that Von Braun was a rocket scientist.  Their thinking was so shabby they couldn’t even connect the fact that Von Braun had come to the United States after the Bomb had been dropped.  They thought the jet plane just happened.  Much in the way an egg yolk appears when you crack the shell.

     Communism which was linked to the A-Bomb in their minds was merely a visceral reaction.  A troubling one but an us versus them situation.  It was a matter of moral systems.  We had refrigerators and they didn’t. 

     The emergence of pharmaceutical drugs disturbed them.  Which brings us to the physical manifestation of their fears.  The Hippies.  They had no idea of how the Hippies ‘happened.’  The evolution from post-war Bohos to Beats to Hippies was beyond them.  Those people were all ‘weirdos.’  They did know that boys with long hair disgusted them.  Trueman was a Hippie with hair all the way down to here.

     This fact alone made him a kingpin in the drug trade.  Drugs!  One of the most amusing topics of an amusing period.  The major herbals- marijuana, hashish, opium, cocaine had been around from time immemorial.  I know, Iknow, but heroin is refined opium.  They had all been used in modern times by the well-to-do and Bohemians.  In the sixties they were democratized.  They were disseminated not only among the less and least affluent but sent into middle class neighborhoods.  The herbals would not have been a real problem.  The real problem was the man made stuff, the pharmaceuticals.  Industry had created a whole new class of potent drugs after 1950.  Barbituates and amphetamines had come into existence.  Whew!  The Peyote button and its derivative mescaline had come into prominence to confuse the issue.  Philosophies had even arisen about their use.  Sacred stuff, if you believed all that BS.

     The pharmaceuticals were prescription drugs.  All the men in Babycakes office had used or were using pharmaceuticals.  They had all used barbituates to one degree or another.  Jerry Durkin used Valium to ‘help’ him deal with the stresses of his new position.  In the early sixties when men such as John Kennedy, the President of the United States, were receiving regular injections of amphetamines, Joshua Babycakes had even received a series.  You may imagine the effect of that combination.

     But those uses were prescribed by a doctor and were therefore ‘medicine’ not ‘drugs.’  The kids used drugs.  Nor did one have to go to a doctor to obtain drugs.  With a few chemicals anyone could manufacture any of the pharmaceuticals.  ‘Better Living Through Chemistry’ as the Hippie wags put it.  The best illicit LSD was produced by a guy from Berkeley name Owsley.  Got started when LSD was legal and just didn’t quit after the deadline.

     The Bomb, Communists, Hippies, drugs.  They weighed heavily, misunderstood on their minds.  The worst was LSD.  The drug, or more properly, Hallucinatory, was a fearful entity to them.

     At the time the Hippie war cry was ‘Don’t trust anyone over thirty.’  Many saw the humor in it and had a good laugh.  Many others tooke the slogan very seriously.  Their fears were given a visible form by the movie ‘Wild In The Streets.’  In the argument whether movies are pure entertainment or whether they have an effect on society, this one had an effect on society.  A society which was completely devoid of a sense of humor.  Seven words that could no longer be mentioned in polite company.

     In the movie a Rock n’ Roll singer who it was believed was based on Jim Morrison of the Doors is elected President at an age below thirty.  Already the movie is a farce.  He then proceeds to round up the entire population of the United States over thirty and puts them in a concentration, or perhaps, retirement camp, in which they are kept perpetually doped up from LSD in their drinking water.  On any Sunday afternoon you could visit the camp where they could be seen walking around like zombies.  In fact, their children did just that oblivious to the fact that they would joining their parents in just a few years.

     How hysterical would you have to be to take this movie literally?  Well, listen.  A rumor developed that the hippies would soon pour LSD into the reservoir supplying Eugene’s water.  A watch was established on the reservoir to prevent such an occurence.  Young men were recruited to patrol the shores.  No one came to pour LSD into the reservoir.

     But, it was reasoned, if anyone would do it, Dewey Trueman would.  But Trueman closely watched never went near the reservoir, probably didn’t even know it was there.  Accordingly Trueman was lured out to Dexter Lake where the crystal waters come tumbling down from the mountains.  It was only with a great deal of effort that he was persuaded to leave the car to walk along the shore.  As he approached the shore a hurtling form came from nowhere to throw him to the ground.  As he gathered his senses he perceived six men, or ‘youths’ standing over him.

     One was holding up what he called a ‘vial’ but looked more like a gallon jug which he said held pure LSD that Trueman was going to pour into the water supply.  He said that Trueman was under arrest.  At the sight of the gallon jug of ‘LSD’ Dewey Trueman began laughing uproariously which was unexpected.  The thought of all the fish in Dexter Lake under the influence of that much LSD seemed so comical to him that he couldn’t stop laughing.  It was an incongruous thought but the laughter was misinterpreted by the young vigilantes cum lynchers.

     The transparency of their ruse embarrassed even them.

     ‘Well, we’re not going to press charges this time, but if you try anything like this again, it’s jail for you.’

     Yes, these were strange and wonderful times.  There were marvels and portents in the air.  You didn’t even need LSD or the DTs to see them.  the jug sat on a shelf in Babycakes office as a reminder of how close the city had come.

     Reality had indeed become a blurry vision to their overloaded imaginations.  Unable to relate facts to their existences they attempted to use bluster to balance the scales in their favor.  Politeness, manners and fairness which had never been overly conspicuous in American mores had been completely eliminated in their consciousnesses by the interfaces between the other immigrants and competing ideological systems.  On the one hand they bullied each other in an attempt to maintain their positions while groveling before the various ‘minorities’ who built this great land of ours.

     The Communist and Criminal belief systems had demonstrated the incapacityof law and order in their minds.  The Constitution perverted by hostile elements had become a tool to be used against the very ideals it expressed.  Without any real moral fibre they adopted the criminal methods of their opponents.  As they put it:  They fought fire with fire.

     Thus American society was becoming completely criminalized.  Criminal ethics were the order of the day.

     Trueman had succeeded in spite of all their efforts to foil him.  Thus in their eyes he had blunted their manhood, emasculated them.  They were only capable of functioning within the support of a group.  They all needed the permission or assent of the others to do what they did.  In a metaphorical mixing of vital body fluids, they all had shares in each other.

     The group assigned places and opportunities.  Legion were the number who were waiting pateintly for a chance at their shot which would never come.  In their minds Trueman had overleaped all those waiting.

     Trueman had not only succeeded against their wishes as a retailer, in their eyes he was making it big.  He thus made them feel less virile, less manly in relation to him.  His individual manhood transcended their collective manhood.  They had to bring that Hippie down.

     In a society in which the once dominant caste had been compelled to outlaw ‘bigotry’, or in other words its own innate beliefs, they were left with no class against which it was legitimate to discriminate.  All the other ‘minorities’  could discriminate against them and they were defenceless.  ‘Bigotry’ prevented their retaliation.  The Hippies were a godsend.  They could be hated without fear of reprisals.  They could be discriminated against.  The word creed was quickly eliminated from the litany race, religion or creed.  The Hippies could be cast as inferiors, their creed was not allowed.

     The Hippies took the lowest rung on the social ladder.  Even the Negroes who had prviously been on the bottom could look down on the Hippies who, in addition, were White.  As the Black rhythm and blues singer Bobby Womack sang it:  ‘I’d like to help you Harry Hippie; but how can I when you’re laying on the ground.’  Thanks Bobby but, no thanks.

     Trueman represented all their fears and woes; all their shortcomings and failings.  They loaded him up to be driven into the desert to die for their sins.

     Grabstein had said Trueman must die.  Having made his contribution, played his part, he now sat back to wait for the others to plan and execute the deed.  As with Christ and the Rosenberg’s, he and his fellow Jews would be innocent of Trueman’s killing.

     Jerry provided the method to lure Trueman out of town with the free weekend at the Hole In Black Mountain.

     Babycakes provided the method.  They never allowed facts to interfere with their fantasies.  They thought Trueman must be dealing drugs, therefore he was.

     ‘He named his store after heroin.’  Babycakes mused.  ‘So he’s gotta die by heroin.’

     Jones noted that God sanctioned such a solution as He Himself had said an eye for an eye.  The others looked at Boxtop Jim and nodded.

     It was decided to give one of Trueman’s tires a slow leak which would leave him with a flat somewhere, they envisioned, between the lava flows and the turn at Highway 20 down to Bend.  The Hell’s Angels Motorcycle Club was much feared in Oregon.  Sometime after the Angels trashed Hollister, California they had tried to move into Oregon but had been successfully driven out.  It was decided that Trueman was the kind that would hang out with ‘those guys.’  Durkin had read Tom Wolfe, being a progressive sort of guy, and had been astounded at the gangbangs Wolfe had described.  Therefore a group riding motorcycles and wearing Angel-like colors would abduct Trueman and his wife from the road.  To make sure that he couldn’t change his tire before they got there his tire iron was removed from his car.  As a joke a useless four lug iron would be substituted.  Trueman and his wife would be taken into the woods where all would rape his wife while Trueman struggled helplessly.  Then both would be given hot shots.  Their dead bodies would be left to be discovered by whoever might at whatever time that might be.

     During the discussion Babycakes had unconsciously written Connie Francis several times and triple underlined each.

     Boxtop Jim murmured:  ‘He who lives by the needle dies by the needle.’

     Harry took a suck or two on his dry pipe as he contemplated the end of another ‘incipient Hitler.’  The Jews would be safe for another little while.

     Accordingly the ‘death warrant’ had been delivered to Trueman by Tetou.  The conspirators naively believed that their plan would be promptly executed.  But as has been wisely said:  Man proposes, God disposes.  Trueman was suspicious; he didn’t make any reservations.

     Thus the contingent of faux Hell’s Angels wheeled aimlessly about the highway on that Friday afternoon.  The matter remained open in their minds; there was no closure.

     Trueman was a hard worker.  Running his store took all his time.  Wives are seldom understanding of what they construe as neglect.  Angie Trueman was no exception.  She liked the material advantages of success but she didn’t want to pay the fare.  She pressured Dewey to take some time off.  Dewey realized that they had only just begun to make it.  He was fully aware of the precariousness of the situation.  He had his enemies, natural external forces had to be dealt with, internal company forces had to be balanced, he had his own intense personal reactions to contend with.

     Angie nevertheless had to be placated.  Along about early May Dewey bethought himself of the certificate to the Hole In Black Mountain which he had thrown in the drawer rather than the waste basket.  He thought he could be away for the weekend.

     He was still apprehensive but he thought that since he hadn’t used the certificate when intended that their guard might be down.  Still he wanted as complete a surprise as possible.  Thus he called for reservations on the Wednesday previous to his Friday departure.  Word was immediately flashed back.  The conspirators only had time to improvise.

     There were two ways over the Cascades from Eugene.  One was the regular route along the spine of on 126 then down 20 to Bend; the other was a rough seldom used road across the lava beds at the top of the McKenzie Highway.  The Cascades are of volcanic origin.  A large lava flow exists at the junction of 126 and the McKenzie Highway.

     It was decided to lure Trueman onto this road by the lava beds where he would be despatched.  In this case a band of local toughs would be used to beat him to death.  Not artistic, but in administrative murders no inquiry will ever be made.

     As there had been no mental closure a couple of details from the earlier plan were performed automatically.  The tire iron had never been replaced so Trueman was still without a jack.  The right front tire was doctored to produce a slow leak.

40 pages.

     The suggestion of the lava bed route had been made to Trueman.  He had shown interest and said he would take the route.  Indeed, the idea appealed to him a great deal.  He did intend to go that way.

     He and Angie left at noon on that Friday.  His way had been prepared for him.  He was already a TV personality in the area so that there was no trouble identifying him.  His streaming hair would justify any hostility in the rural population who were still years away from adopting long hair in what would be their stringy unwashed fashion.  Folks on the rural routes are the last to adopt a fashion and the last to give it up.

     From the McKenzie Bridge in Eugene’s twin city of Springfield all along the river to the ridge road Trueman was met by unremitting hostility.  People actually lined the road to glare at him.  At the juncture of the McKenzie Highway and 126 the road, really almost a path, across the lava beds was plainly visible.

     Also visible was a row of thugs ranged along the crest at the first flow like a band of indians in a cowboy movie.  As he approached he could see a car parked across the roadway at the far crest of the flow.  He could see the car waiting to be driven across the road to block his retreat.

     ‘How stupid do they think I am.’  Dewey thought.  He knew the answer and dismissed it.

     Trueman saw the handwriting on the wall.  He knew he should turn back.  He also knew that Angie wouldn’t understand nor would he be able to explain it to her.  His enemies always had the advantage because there are few who understand and fewer still who acknowledge the structure of society.  Few are they who have the nerve to look beneath the surface.  Dewey had been born there so he always knew the score.  His rejection of the lava bed route would be construed by his enemies as that he had told a lie.  He had said he would take the road but now he hadn’t.  In their minds he had labeled himself a liar.  They so thought of him and this is the reason why.

     He had many misgivings but plowed ahead along the ridge.  The question is always how far will they go.  Trueman hadn’t yet the experience to be absolutely sure of his interpretation of the details nor could he understand how people who had never met him would do such things.

     The highway was virtually deserted.  The road was his until the turn down to Bend.  He was astounded that there was absolutely no traffic.  On the descent there were no cars before or behind.  A car or two passed on the other side of the road.   The drivers seemed to glare hatred.  In fact they were.  When word was received that the lava bed plan had misfired a couple of people had set out from Sisters and Bend to snarl at him on the highway.

     Trueman and Angie passed Hoodoo Ski Bowl.  Three Fingered Jack conveniently faced the Three Sisters across the highway.  They rolled by the road leading down to the springs of the Metolius River.  The Metolius is one of the wonders of the West.  The river emerges from the mountain side in huge springs which form a significant river in just a couple hundred yards.  It is a sight worth seeing.

     As they descended Trueman’s defective tire began to assert itself.  Trueman had a new Volvo.  The front tire on the driver’s side began to pound, bouncing and hammering.  Trueman had no idea what was happening.  Before he was able to slow down the tire burst as it slammed into the pavement.

     Trueman immediately divined that he had been had.  The fact that it was the left front immediately made his suspicious.  He could see himself on the highway butt out into the roadway to be run down by a passing car.  He kept driving slowly down the road.  He was still some way from Sisters, the first town.  He didn’t think the tire would even stay on the rim that far.  The rim probably wouldn’t stay on the hub.  He’d really been had when as if by a miracle a sign reading:  Jack’s U-Auto Stop appeared by a driveway by the side of the road.  ‘I auto stop.’ said Dewey

     The way was down an embankment a little way from the road.  Trueman thought it dangerous to leave the highway but the lesser of two evils.  He entered the ruts to slide to a stop before a little shack.  Some guy, hopefully a mechanic, was leaning over the fender of an old wreck to the left.  He straigtened up, eyed the Volvo, then bent over the fender again.

     Dewey blew out a breath, opened the door, got out and walked over to the wreck.

     ‘Hi!’ He said announcing his presence.

     He was ignored.

     ‘Hi!’ Dewey repeated.  ‘You work here?’

     The guy straigtened up looking at Dewey uncomprehendingly with his face half averted.

     ‘You Jack?’  Dewey asked.

     The guy twitched once, then said:  ‘No, Bill.’

     ‘Where’s Jack?’

     ‘There ain’t no Jack.  I’m Bill.  I just call it Jack’s because I’m shy.’

     Dewey thought better than to make any jokes.  He thought it better to play it straight and get out of there.

     ‘Can you fix tires, Bill?’ Dewey asked.

     ‘There ain’t nothin’ wrong with these tires.’  Bill replied mystified.

     ‘No. No, Bill, I don’t mean on that car.  I mean on my car over there.’

     Bill looked over at the Volvo and nodded:  ‘Oh sure. Yeah.  Easy.’

     ‘Well, how about fixing that tire?’


     ‘Why not?’

     ‘Well, looka here.  See how it’s blown.  That’s one dead tire.  Can’t be fixed.’  He said looking at Dewey as though he were stupid.

     ‘Well, then, how about putting on the spare?’

     ‘Won’t do no good.’

     ‘Why not?’

     ‘This here Volvo’s got one of those new temporary spares.  You know, they only inflate halfway up.  Soft.  You’d never make it into town.’

     ‘Well, here’s an idea.  Can you sell me a tire?’

     ‘Sure.’  Said Bill without stirring.

     ‘O.K.  I’ll buy a tire from you.’

     ‘Well, I don’t have any tires.’

     ‘Uh huh. But you said you could sell me one.’

    ‘Of course I can.’  Bill said indignantly.  ‘But I have to go into town to buy it.’

     ‘Well, OK Bill.  I can’t go anywhere without a tire.  Do you think you could to into town to get one to sell to me?’

     ‘Sure, I could do that.  It’ll take a couple hours, maybe more.’

     ‘OK Bill.  As the saying goes:  I’ve got nothing but time.  I don’t have any choice but to wait.’

     ‘You want me to then?’

     ‘Yes, I do.’

     Bill got on the phone.  ‘Hi, this is Bill from Jack’s Jim.  I’m gonna need a tire.’

     A conversation ensued during which Bill was questioned as to who wanted the tire.  He described Dewey.  Words were spoken.  Bill looked at Dewey around the door with an extra shy grin.

     ‘I’ll be back.’ He said sheepishly.

     Dewey grinned and waved goodbye.  ‘Don’t take your time.’  He jokingly laughed.

     But Bill did take his time.  While he did a car left its garage in Eugene to speed to Jack’s U-Auto Stop.

     The day was nice, even delicious.  A warm sun beamed out of a sky with fluffy clouds lazing across it.  Jack’s was on a little level shelf of land against the hillside with a delightful valley below.  The shelf abutted the hillside about fifteen feet below the roadway.  As Dewey looked at the sharp descent he was uncertain whether the Volvo could even make it up it. 

     Dewey instructed Angie to stay in the car, keeping the door locked.  He was conversing with her through the window when he heard a car slowing down.  He looked up to see a bumper and under carriage as the car lurched into Jack’s U-Auto Stop.  It wasn’t Bill.  Dewey’s fears were confirmed.  He got the keys from Angie to open the trunk to get his tire iron out for a weapon.  He was somewhat dismayed to find the four pronged lug wrench but the not the appropriate tire iron.  The lug wrench was not an ideal weapon.  While he was studying the wrench in a quandary the car slid to a stop fifteen feet from him.

     Autry Outrey got out.  Autry had been given the crash assignment of despatching Trueman and Angie.  Autry stood six-three, trim and athletic.  His black wingtips were immaculate.  He wore his suit pants with precision.  The cuffs just touched his shoes.  The crease was a razor edge.  The pleatless pants rested smoothly and snugly across his hips and waist.  His belt was evenly spaced between the tops and bottoms of the loops.  The buckle was in the exact center of his body.  The waist of his pants formed a perfect circle around him.  They were not higher in the back and lower in the front.  His white shirt, even after just getting out of the car did not billow at the waistline.  His grey shaded rep stripe matching his pants and socks had a perfect Windsor knot.  the collar ends were not starched but didn’t curl.

     Autry was Arrow shirt ad handsome.  He could have modeled for a German postage stamp of the thirties.  His thick, luxuriant mustache which projected beyond his lip about a quarter inch exuded manliness.  It was impeccably trimmed, so fastidiously as to arouse your admiration and suspicion.

     Autry Outry stood eyeing Trueman who stood there looking stupid with the lug wrench in his hands.  Outrey’s gaze went to Trueman’s soft loafers.  He lifted his toes slightly as a sign that hard wingtips were more manly than soft loafers.

     He unconsciously hoped to emasculate Trueman with his shoes.  As Autry eyed the lug wrench he realized that his assignment wouldn’t be that easy.  While others described Trueman as a paranoid they apparently didn’t know what paranoia meant.  Trueman had had his finger on them since being shown the pot shack.  The image that was held by the townspeople of Trueman was, of course, erroneous.  the image that he was an abject coward who would never fight but cravenly beg for mercy was merely a projection of their fantasy.  Thus the notion had been that Autry would put his arm around Trueman’s shoulder and strangle him to death.  Why not?

     Autry had been chosen for the assignment because he had put it about that he had known Trueman well at the U of O.  This was a figment of Outrey’s imagination.  Outrey was a homosexual.  He had formed an intense mental fixation on Trueman, had railed at him but never actually met him.

     Outrey had been turned by a retired army officer who lived on his block.  Autry at eight had been a beautiful boy.  He had been befriended by his neighbor who had seduced him.  His seducer had been a model of military deportment.  The liaison had lasted two years until Autry had been discarded for another eight year old.  Autry had loved and respected his seducer.  It was from him that Autry learned to wear his clothes, trim his hair and mustache.  It was from that man Autry learned his lessons in manhood.  From the day of his seduction his father had ceased to have an influence on him.  His exterior would have been a model for a Marine advertisement.  His interior had been corrupted by his rejection which Autry had never been able to understand.  The pain of it haunted him night and day.

     Autry was still young enough to be seeking another older man as a companion and lover.  That was why he attached himself to the big men of Eugene and was willing, even overjoyed, to do their dirty work.  Within a few years a relationship with an older man would no longer please him, he would seek to duplicate his experience by finding eight year old boys.

     When Autry had seen Trueman in college he was both enraged and in love.  Trueman violated every concept of manhood that Autry cherished.  Dewey had had long hair, wore love beads, shaved clean and worn his clothes in an ambiguous manner with loafers that infuriated Autry.  At the same time he represented the internal Autry to himself.  Autry had thought him beautiful.  He also believed Trueman was a homosexual and ought to respond to him.

     But Trueman was not a homosexual.  He even spoke disparagingly of homos.  Trueman didn’t hesitate to call them fags.  Thus Outrey was faced with the perennial homosexual problem: unrequited love.  He knew he could never have Trueman.  Autry, as a frustrated lover, had taken to hurling abuse at Trueman, as a substitute for affection.  First from around the corners of hallways, then from behind trees, finally from a distance of five or ten feet.  For various reasons Trueman had ignored him.  He didn’t recognize Outrey now.  Autry was dumbfounded.  their relationship was real in his mind.

     Autry’s classically chiseled features that looked so good at rest dissolved into the marshmallow of his interior when he spoke.  His head reared back while in some strange fashion his features turned globular moving up and to the side of his face leaving the center with the appearance of being hollow.

     As they studied each other, Trueman moved to put his back to the far drop off with the shack on his left.  He held the lug wrench tommy gun style, grasping the lower and rear prongs.  As a child he had been floored with a punch to the solar plexus that he had never forgotten.  Unconsciously he intended now to avenge this incident.  It was his intention to thrust the lead prong under the ribs up into Autry’s heart.

     Autry looked at him baffled by the intended resistance.  This wasn’t in the script of his movie; he didn’t know what to do.  He feared the wrench.  His head reared back, his features dissolved as he began to articulate a phrase.  He changed his mind.  The classic Arrow, German postage stamp face appeared again.  Autry looked denyingly at Trueman for a few moments then turned to walk back to his car.

     Unsure of Autry’s intent Trueman dogged his steps with the wrench at the ready.  Without turning his head Autry sensed Trueman behind him.  Autry couldn’t be sure Trueman wouldn’t club him from behind.  He did a fatal thing.  His fear made him take a half skip into a run before he checked himself.  At the signal of submission Trueman stopped following him.  Autry immediately broke out into a copious perspiration.  He had confessed weakness.  There was now no chance he could go through with it.  He had failed the men he respected and loved, expecially his seducer.  He hadn’t been able to perform as a man.

     Within the next few steps his shirt darkened between his shoulder blades.  The sweat poured down the small of his back soaking the top of his pants and down between the cheeks to his sphincter.  Autry Outrey choked back a sob.  He couldn’t face his men in Eugene again.  Unseeing, blind he got behind the wheel, backed up in a roaring cloud of dust to speed East down the highway.  He roared through Sisters in blind panic onto 395.  He lost five pounds in a fast and furious drive from Bend to Boise.

     Shortly thereafter Bill returned to Jack’s U-Auto Stop with a tire.  Trueman stared at the tire in disbelief.

50 pages.

     ‘Why didn’t you get a new one?’  He asked.

     As in the Hank William’s song:  The tire was doing fine but the air was showing through.  The tire was three rotations past bald.

     ‘This was all they had.’  Bill said lamely.

     ‘What do you mean?  In all of Bend they only had this one lousy tire?’  Dewey said indignantly.

     ‘I didn’t go to Bend.  I only went to Sisters.  You either take this tire or you get nothing.  If you get nasty I won’t even sell you this one and can get your broken down car off my property.’

     Dewey saw his bind but he wasn’t going to give in easily.  Bill had already paid for the tire.

     ‘God, from the looks of that tire I would think you would give it to me.  How much are you going to charge me for it?’

     ‘Thirty dollars.’

     ‘Thirty dollars?  I can get new ones cheaper than that.’

     ‘Well, don’t buy it then.’

     ‘No. No.  I’ll take it.’  Necessity is the mother of surrender.

     ‘I know it’s bald and it probably won’t last till Bend.  But as you enter Sisters there’s a gas station on the left hand side of the road.  Go in there.  They’ll fix you up.’

     ‘I’m sure they will.’  Dewey said to Bill, adding to himself:  In more ways than one.

     Angie was not a fearless rider.  She hated the road.  She saw problems when none existed.  She had seen how bald the tire was, which was at least something to worry about.  Thus as they approached Sisters she was anxiously scanning the other side of the road for the gas station.

     ‘There it is.’  She excitedly exclaimed.

     ‘Nooo.  Nooo.’  Dewey said looking back to see the gang shaking their fists at him.

     ‘What if this tire explodes too.?’

     ‘We go into Bend on the rim, the hub.  I know where we are now.’

     He’d also picked up his tail who he noticed in the rear view mirror.  He wasn’t too worried about things in Bend, he didn’t think they would hit him in town.  But he did still need a new tire.

     He pulled into a tire shop off the highway onto the road through Bend to Mt. Bachelor.  He was met with overt hostility.

     ‘I don’t have that size tire.’  He was curtly told.

     ‘Well, can’t you call around.  Someone in Bend must have one.  If not, we’ll be in town a couple days, have one sent from the warehouse in Eugene.’

     The attendant’s boss who was watching with compressed lips heard Dewey and called the attendant over.

     The attendant returned.  ‘I can’t sell you a radial like you’ve got but I got a regular tire that will fit pretty well.’

     Trueman had already spent thrity with Bill at Jack’s and he’d have to replace the tire when he got back to Eugene.  Also he would look stupid with three radials and this oversized tire.  He considered the difficulty of his situation then consented.

     While the tire was being changed Dewey looked down the road toward Bachelor trying to figure out his enemies next move.  He decided it could only be to get him into an accident.  Dewey was learning his way around.  As he passed thrugh the center of town he could see he was being eyed.  He was good on the road.  There was no way to surprise him without hurting themselves.  Of course it was always possible that someone could be found who might not mind hurting themselves or might be too stupid to be aware of the consequences of their actions.

     Dewey made it safely through the core.  He had sped up as he approached the edge of town.  Suddenly a car flahsed out of an intersection in front of him.  He slammed on the brakes.  They don’t if they get hurt, he thought, because if his reflexes had been less quick he would have rammed the car between the wheels killing the driver.

     A car was waiting at the next intersectdion too but Dewey was prepared.  He had slowed in anticipation.  the earlier cars had flashed out and then turned toward town.  At the third intersection the car wheeled out in front of him and stepped on its brakes then floored it.  Billows of acrid black smoke blew out the exhaust.  The driver then immediately screeched to a halt forcing Dewey to do the same.  Dewey knew the game and he knew he couldn’t win but he had to play.  He crossed the center line to pass.  The driver gunned ahead across the line blocking Dewey’s passage still emitting billows of smoke which drifted through the clear air across the blue sky above the neighborhood.  Dewey drew back across the line slowing in anticipation of the driver’s screeching stop.  This time dewey was a few car lengths back.  The drive, thoroughly enjoying himself was laughing insanely.  He was unable to bee Trueman through the smoke.  He imagined that he was right behind him.

     Trueman anticipated the next move also.  A stream of cars was now passing slowly in the opposite direction so passing was out of the question.  His effort would only be frustrated anyway which was the intention.  Trueman had begun some time before to adjust his mentality to their methods.  The thought they were criminal or insane so that whatever they did was characteristic of their mentality.  Their acts were no reflection on himself.  In fact he was developing the attitude of a doctor in an insane asylum.  The attitude infuriated them more.  Dewey hadn’t flown onver the cuckoo’s nest he had landed in it.

     The driver before him now made several false starts.  Dewey remained motionless as the lead car now several blocks ahead of him rocked bac and forth in isolation after each stop.  The driver finally had the sence to use his side mirror.  He was humiliated to find himself alone out there.  He now drove slowly forward.  Trueman had no choice but to follow.  There was no chance to pass as a car came by at thousand foot intervals.   Dewey knew any attempt to pass would be foiled.  All he would do would be to get himself worked up to the point where he might do something stupid.  No car came upbehind Dewey as he drove into the smoke at ten miles an hour.

     Then to his left he saw the sign of The Hole In Black Mountain.  As he drew abreast his escort emitted a horse laugh which he could hear and sped off toward Mt. Bachelor.  The driver turned off the gimmick he had used to create the smoke screen.  His exhaust cleared as he sped away.

     It was quite clear to Dewey that none of this was coincidence.  But, if he told the story everyone would say so.  He resolved to keep the whole trip to himself.  He marveled that these people had no more life to lead than to spend ours, use dozens of cars and spend money in their attempt to torment him.  In its own way it was a supreme compliment to his superior manhood but one which he didn’t appreciate.  He was lost in this reverie as a car edged across the entrance of the lot in front of him.  The car had started too late.  Dewey kept going forcing the other driver to an abrupt stop a hair from the side of Dewey’s car.

      Dewey would have won that one except that Angie began to berate him for placing her in jeopardy.  There was merit in her argument.  It had been a long trip but Dewey kept his temper.  He ignored the obscenity hurled at him as the other car raced through the lot.

     He now looked at the building before him.  It was a conventional two story wooden inn streching some two or three hundred feet along the road.  He’d taken the bag from the trunk before he saw the entrance.  A large black structure closely resembling a cowl had been built over the doorway apparently in imitation of a cave.  Its black constrasted sharply with the natural finish of the building while blending into the asphalt of the parking lot.

     ‘This must be the actual hole in Black Mountain.’  Dewey said with a laugh as the smile on Angie’s face erupted into a matching laugh.

     ‘Business must have been so bad they tried to Disney the place up.’  She said.

     Still laughing they passed through the black hole into the lobby.

     ‘Hmmm.’  Said Angie.

     ‘Yeah.’  Dewey replied.  ‘And this place has a great reputation too.  It doesn’t look like they clean up in between seasons.  I guess they’re trying to save money by not turning the lights on too.’

     There was no clerk in sight.  Dewey rang the bell.  Minutes later he rang the bell again to no avail.

     ‘Hey, hello.  Anybody here?’  He called out some time later. 

     Still no one showed.

     About half an hour later he picked up the bag.  He told Angie that they might as well leave.  As though picking up his bag was a signal a slovenly, surly young woman appeared fromt he office.  She looked at him blankly.

     ‘We’d like to check in.’  Dewey said with mock suavity.

     ‘Do you have a reservation?’  The clerk asked in stilted tones as though she might have failed in finishing school.

     The game was clear to Dewey but he had enough experience to be patient.  He was a long way from home base.

     ‘Oh yes.’  He replied.  ‘Trueman?  We’re here on a certificate from KGEN.’

     ‘KGEN?’  She said blankly.

     ‘Yes, KGEN.  It’s a TV station in Eugene.  I’m sure you’ve heard of it.  Here’s the certificate.  Trueman.  They said to be sure to mention them and who I was.’

     ‘I’m not sure this is any good.’  She said stiffly.

     ‘Sure it is.’  Dewey said grimly.  ‘Just check it out.  We’ll be here till Sunday.  You’ve got time.’

    The clerk looked at him, blinked, then gave up the masquerade.

     ‘You’ll have to carry your own baggage.’  She said.  ‘We don’t have nayone to help you.’

     ‘Or clean up.’  Dewey said snidely, unaware of what was before him.

     The Hole was vacant May not being high season in the skiing industry.  Black Mountain was seriously mis-managed.  It didn’t even do well in the high season except on overflow weekends.  They were led to the most distant room.

     ‘This room hasn’t even been cleaned.’  Angie said indignantly.

     ‘Truly.’  Added Dewey.  ‘The ash trays, look at them,  at least six, they’re heaped with butts.  This room reeks of cigarette and cigar smoke.  The bed clothes haven’t even been changed.’

     Dewey and Angie were astonished to see splotches of semen stains on the sheets.  The floor was gritty as though dirt had been brought in for the occasion.

     ‘Very untidy.’  Dewey said, feigning urbanitywhile being deeply offended at the insult.  ‘Why don’t you give us another room?’

     ‘The resort is full.  This is the only room we have available.’

     ‘Well, clean it up and we’ll be back in an hour.’

     ‘No.  This is good enough for the likes of you.’

     ‘We’ll go elsewhere.’  Angie sniffed.

     ‘Go ahead and try.’  The girl said spitefuly.  ‘There isn’t a available room in Bend for you.  When youcome back this one won’t be here either.’

     Dewey sensed that this was true.  As the sun was setting he didn’t dare attempt the drive back to Eugene in the dark.  He could easily be forced from the road.  He and Angie were stuck.

     ‘Well, loot at those ashtrays and that bed.’  Dewey said tensely.  ‘They’re filthy.


     ‘All right.’  She said.  ‘We’ll empty the ash trays and make the bed.  But that’s all.’

     ‘We’ll come back after you’ve changed the bed.’

     ‘No.  I said make the bed, not change it.  You’ve got to take it the way it is.’

     So saying she dumped the contents of the ashtrays into the wastebasket and threw the blanket and bedspread up covering the sheets.

     ‘There.’  She said.  ‘That’s good enough for you.’

     So saying she slammed the door and left them.

     Joshua Babycakes had occupied the room the night before.  As he had anticipated Trueman’s death in the lava beds he had occupied the the bed intended for him the night before.  It was a macabre joke.  In his ecstasy at Trueman’s anticipated demise he had spent the morning masturbating into the empty bed as though he had Trueman before him.  When word had been flashed that the plan had misfired he ordered that the room and bed be left so that Trueman as he imagined would have to sleep in Babycake’s own filth.

     Dewey didn’t know hwo but he intuited the intent.  Angie was so disturbed that she became ill.  Thus Dewey went to dinner alone.  He was the sole diner in the restaurant.  As there was no one in sight he selected a table and took a seat.  Immediately a waiter appeared to tell him that section was closed.  He was led to a table in front of the men’s restroom.

     ‘Oh, come now.’  Dewey said as diplomatically as possible.  ‘I’m not going to sit her.  I’ll go back to where I was.’

     ‘I told you, buddy, that section is closed.’  The waiter lisped severely.

    Well, listen, pal, there’s no one else in the restaurant.  Either all sections are closed or any one I choose to open.  Only one waiter is required.  Do you follow my logic or do you follow any logic?’

      ‘Read my lips.  The section you want is closed.  This is your table.  Take it or leave it.’

     ‘I’ll sit here.’  Dewey said moving over two tables.  The waiter capitulated.

     ‘We get all kinds of boors in here.’  The waiter groaned.

     Dewey never got into arguments with stupid people so he let the comment pass with a snort and a contemptuous dismissal.  The waiter had no shame so he did a corn cob walk into the kitchen as though he had scored a great triumph.

     Dewey ordered without hope.  His dinner was served accordingly.  The food was improperly cooked.  It had just been thrown unappetizingly on the plaate.  Dewey could only imagine what adulteration had been done to it.  It  had been spit in.  Dewey sat looking at it dumbly for some few minutes, the he threw his napkin on the table in disgust and got up to leave.

     ‘You didn’t eat your dinner.’  The waiter said as though offended.

     ‘Not hungry.’  Dewey said.  ‘You can have it.’

     ‘I’m not going to eat that.’  The waiter said with evident disgust.

     ‘See.’  Dewey said ironically, which was, of course, wasted on the waiter.

     He went back to the room to find Angie sitting disconsolately in the chair.

     ‘How are we going to sleep?’  She asked.  ‘I’n not going to get into that filthy bed.’

     Dewey thought for a moment.  ‘They probably forgot to remove the extra blanket, I’ll bet.’  He said going to the closet.  ‘We’ll just have to lay on top of the bedspread.  Oh look, two extra blankets.  One under us, one over us.  Perfect solution to a bad situation.’

     And so they spent the night at The Hole In Black Mountain.  The inn certainly deserved its name.

60 pages.

     They didn’t bother to check out the next morning; they just got in the car and drove off.

     ‘If they’ve got anything to say they can say it to KGEN.’  Trueman said as they drove back through town.  He pulled into a gas station to fill it up.  While the attendant was checking the oill he punctured the radiator.

     Dewey had turned unto the ridge road before he noticed that the car was running hot.  He pulled over to take a look.  He quickly spotted the puncture.  The attendant had made it near the top of the radiator so that while the engine overheated it wouldn’t burn up.  Satisfied that there would be no trouble getting back Dewey lowered the hood to see a car pulling to a stop behind him.  In all his life no had ever volunteered to help him so Dewey realized that his enemies were still behind him.  He hurriedly got back in the car and drove off.

     The rhododendrons were blooming cheerily in the dappled sunlight of the forest as they turned down the McKenzie Highway.  As they crossed the McKenzie Bridge Dewey began to feel secure again.

     It was only Saturday but he decided to stay home until Monday to as not to give the impression that he had been had.  Everyone knew, of course, but Trueman didn’t know they knew.  He was not yet that familiar with the system.

     The ‘free’ weekend had been an expensive one.  Between the tires, the radiator and other repair work he paid out several hundreds of dollars.  He also lost several hundred dollars of merchandise.  Harry Grabstein had had a small collection of classical records delivered to his house.  The employees had helped themselves to merchandise and cash.  Generous discounts had been given to their friends.

     As Dewey walked in Monday they were all in their places which was such a rarity that Dewey immediately guessed the truth.

     ‘How was your weekend?’  They chirped knowingly.

     ‘Hey, it was terrific.’  Dewey said breezily, unwilling to give anyone a triumph.

     ‘It was?  No kidding?  Nothing happened?’  They said incredulously.

     ‘Yeah!  Why not?  You know anything I don’t?’  Dewey replied.

   Dewey didn’t wait for a reply as he mounted the stairs to the office.

     He had just begun to open drawers when Jim James who ran the marijuana operation on Railroad Ave. came in to request to see him.  Dewey had never met James but he came down to see what he wanted.  James had formed a serious relationship with Trueman from television, from the fact that Trueman was prominent in the conversation of the people he knew, because he owned the record store and because James also considered himself a successful businessman.

     ‘Hey, Dewey,’  James said grabbing his hand in both of his as though he really was an old dear friend,  ‘I just came in to say good-bye.  I’ve got to leave town now.’

    ‘Oh, sorry to hear that.’  Dewey said only vaguely aware of who he was talking to.  ‘How come?’

     ‘Oh, they told me it’s getting to hot for the business.  If we keep it up much longer the police will have to act; they won’t be able to hold them back any longer.  So I gotta get outta town.  Well, Buddy, it’s been fun.  See you around.’

     ‘Uh, yeah, take care, see you around.’  Dewey replied amicably waving good-bye.

    With an affectionate wave good-bye to everyone in the store who all seemed to know him, James left.  Astonished at his openness and amazed that James thought him a buddy, Trueman trailed outside behind him.  James went down the street shaking hands with everyone he met, addressing them all by name and telling them it was too hot to continue.  The house would be dark from now on.

     ‘How does he get away with it?’  Trueman muttered to himself.  ‘That’s way too open.  There’s no way to conceal that, not even under the cover of darkness.’

     The citizenry had been aroused over the last few months, not so much by James’ operation as to the outrageous doings in the so-called massage parlors.  Prostitution had began to flourish in Oregon under the guise of massage parlors.  The parlors were owned by combines of various big men in town.  The men they employed to run them were real wild cowboys.  Rivalries had developed.  Parlors were raided by shot gun toting competitiors.  Parlor after parlor had been burst into and shot up.  A couple of cowboys had died.  The last straw had been when one of the managers, as the newspaper had reported, had fallen asleep at the wheel, missed the McKenzie Bridge, gone down a steep embankment, which should have arrested the progress of the car, careened across a hundred feet of sandbank, which was clearly impossible, to drown in three feet of water, which was incredible.  The case was closed as accidental death.   Perhaps his murder was not intended.

     James’ operation had been a casualty of the massage parlor warfare and the accidental death.  James was only a very naive eighteen.  Had he been wiser he would have taken his cash and run for his life.  Instead he became the sacrificial lamb.  After completing his all too obvious farewell tour, his friends gave him a little party, put a thousand dollars in his hand, ten kilos of grass in his trunk to help him get started in California and waved a fond farewell.

     A crime had been committed;  It was necessary to expiate the sin.  Someone had to pay.  The punishment of James would serve for all.  James heart was agow with fellowship and he sped past Roseburg, through Medford and Grant’s Pass to the Oregon border just beyond Ashland.  He was simple enough to think he was going to repeat his performance in Sacramento.  As he crossed the border he didn’t see the Highway Patrol car that whelled off the sideroad behind him.

     He did see the red light in his rear view mirror as it flashed behind him.  The Patrolman didn’t even ask to see his license he just said:  ‘Open the trunk.’  You can hear the train whistle blow in Folsom Prison on the American River just outside Sacramento.  That’s where Jimmy James spent the next twenty years of his life.

     Back in Eugene the conspirators gathered once again in Joshua Babycakes’ office.  There had been great satisfaction in the rape of Connie Francis that had gone off without a hitch.  Trueman had foiled their hopes and dreams.  Babycakes hand fondled his groin as he considered the failure.  A frown crowded the humanity out of his face as he subconsiously acknowledged his defeated manhood.  He cleared his throat as all looked up in anticipation.  But Babycakes was just clearing his throat, he had nothing to say.  Their minds flailed about in the seim-darkness in the Shadow Of The Cross as they sought the next move.

     Is it our imaginations or was the Cross actually installed upside down?

The End Of The Hole In Black Mountain