An expose of religion

For an ordered study of wy religion won’t work, see

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Demon Seed- Part 3

Bill Jamison swung with stubborn intensity at his opponent’s haw, hammering away. There was no escape from his fury. Jab, jab, uppercut and, knockout!

Jamison then sat back and gulped down another swig of Scotch Whiskey. “Wanna try another?”

“No, Bill, I don’t want to try another. I came here to talk to you about something important, not play this game of Rock ’em So ck ’em robots you found in your attic”.
Jamison laughed and poured himself another swig of Scotch. “This is important, Paul. I saw a movie a few days ago, and it reminded me of these little robots I whipped everybody with”.

“It doesn’t hurt to glue your own robot’s head on, either does it?”

“You aren’t accusing me of cheating, are you, Paully?”.

“What if I am? You going to whip my ass for real?”

“Your problem, Paully, is that you take life too seriously. You worry too much. You think you can actually make life better by worrying”.

“No, I think I can make life better by trying to do the right thing”.

“And what’s the right thing, Paully? We got millions of people out there, and every one of them doing what they believe is the right thing. The world’ more fucked up now than ever. Millions of ’em, Paully”.

Paul sat silently. That was Jamison’s answer to everything. Don’t try. He loved pissing people off. He wanted them to hate him above all. Paul long ago concluded that it came from his own personal self loathing. Ever since Ellen died….

Jamison stood up, belched, and broke wind, deliberately. That was how he treated the people he liked. His behavior was much less tolerant toward people he didn’t like, which was most everybody.

“An old friend wanted me to talk to you. She has a favor she needs to ask of you”.

“She? Sounds good already. What does she look like? Nice ass? Long legs?”

“I didn’t notice”.

“Yeah, and I’m the pope. If she had ’em, you’d notice ’em. Sounds to me like she’s more than an old friend”.

“She is”.

“And how can I pleasure this old more than friend of yours?”

Paul swallowed his anger and chivalry. “She, um, her husband died…”

“Even better, no jealous husband”.

Paul ignored the barbs and waded into the story. “Her husband died on an old road while he was investigating something”.

“Something? Well, let’s see. Since I made money off two books about UFOs, I assume this ‘something’ was probably a UFO her husband claimed to have seen”.


“And she wants me to restore the honor of her husband in his search for truth”.


Jamison chuckled, gulped down a shot of Scotch from the bottle, and then roared with laughter.

“Imagine that! She wants me to defend her honor! What’s the name of this hero husband of hers?”

“People call him Cal. Cal Johnson”.

For once in his life, Paul detected a look of something like remorse in Jamison’s face, a look of pain he had seen last when Jamison’s wife died. “What’s the matter? You know him?”

Jamison sighed and turned his back on Paul. “Yeah, I knew him. Long time ago. OCS. He wasn’t a bad guy. A bit idealistic, like I was, back then. He obviously never outgrew it”.

“Before he died, he told his wife he wanted you to investigate this thing. ”

“I’m not an investigator. I’m a bullshit con artist. You know that”.

“That’s what I tried to tell Helen”.


“His wife”.

“Oh, Helen. Now I remember. Back when we were looking to be officers, he told me about her. Met her in college or something like that.”

“Yes, I knew both of them in college”.

“And I’m betting you had a crush on this Helen woman, which tells me she’s a looker”.

“She is, not as much now as she was once, but she is”.

Jamison sipped the Scotch slowly, remembering. “Funny how things come back. I remember now. We both talked about Helen and Ellen. My Ellen, his Helen”.

Paul was astonished. It was the first time Jamison had even mentioned his wife’s name in ages. For the first time in a long time, there was a smile on his face, a smile of memory and some pain, but no less a smile.

“Cal Johnson bailed my ass out back in ‘Nam. Saved my life, actually. I got stupid and told him that I’d do anything he asked. He laughed and told me he might collect someday. Damn! Cal Johnson! What a time to collect! ”

Jamison began to chuckle and then began laughing uncontrollably.

“What’s the matter?”

“I been hangin’ around all this time, just waitin’ to die, giving a damn about nothin’, and here comes old Cal, and offers me an opportunity to go out in a blaze of glory.”

“You’ll see her?”

“I’ll see her. But I have to tell you, Cal and I knew some things most people don’t know. You see, we met in the military, bit we ended up in the same group for a reason. Back then, there was a great interest in certain people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cal and I belonged to a rare group. Over time, it was explained to us, but we were told never to say anything to anyone outside our group.”


“If I told you, I’d have to kill you. What’s the story about this Helen? I’ll be willing to bet the farm that she’s either pregnant, or she had a special kind of child”.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“It had to do with our military training. Cal called on me because he knew I would understand.”

“Understand what?”

“If I told you–”

“I know, you’d have to kill me”.

Jamison turned and ran up the steps toward his bedroom. He was actually whistling.

“Where you going?” asked Paul.
“Packing. This will be interesting

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Demon Seed- Part 2

A toy sail boat blew across a quiet pond, with a small boy watching it sail as his father kept watchful eye to see that he didn’t try to jump in the water after it. Couples, holding hands, lying on picnic blankets under a warm summer sky, with music drifting from an oldie, somewhere in the distance; “I only have eyes for you…”

Paul Johnson looked into the eyes of a woman he had once thought about marrying, but his thoughts were not of love and romance, and the deep blue eyes he looked into were not those of a smiling face.

“I’m sorry to hear about Cal” he said, as tenderly as his voice could allow.

The woman’s eyes welled with tears and she wiped them again with the handkerchief that Paul found in his pocket.
“How? Why?”

Paul groped helplessly for the impossible words, those that never answer, nor can they, when you’ve lost the love of your life.

“If I can help in any way…” be began.

“I know” she interrupted, “Cal said I should get in touch with you if anything happened”.

“But why? I haven’t seen Cal since our college days. He went in one direction…with you…and I went another”.

“Someone…someone you know” she said.


She hesitated. “I’m not sure if I should say”.

Paul instinctively touched her hand. He hadn’t meant to do that, but it took him back those years, looking into her eyes, and he had wanted to touch her since he sat down with her. “Anything I can do”.

She looked directly into his eyes. “Bill Jamison”.

“Bill Jamison? What’s he got to do with anything? ”

“Cal was studying strange things before he died. I know you’ll think I’m crazy, and I wonder about it myself, sometimes…but I think Bill might get to the bottom of this”.

“Bottom of what?”


“What?! Oh, Helen, surely you don’t want to see Bill Jamison. You must know what kind of person he is”.

“Yes…but Cal seemed to think…”

“Helen, I’ve known Bill for several years. I knew him before his wife died, when he was actually a decent sort of person, but Helen, Bill would be dangerous”.


“Well, Helen, you’re in a very fragile state right now. You’re talking about UFOs, and good God, Helen, this is something Bill will take and rip to shreds, right along with you”.

“That’s why Cal wanted him. He knew that Bill was…a nonbeliever”.

“That’s putting it mildly. Bill Jamison believes in nothing except making a buck. Believer? If you think you’re going to convert him to some wild eyed notion of…I’m sorry. I’m not trying to hurt you, Helen. I’m trying to spare you”.

“I know, believe me, I know. But Cal wanted someone like Bill, who didn’t believe in anything.”

“He couldn’t have picked a better man. If Bill Jamison ever had a heart, he doesn’t have it now”.

“Yes. Cal thought that if Bill could be convinced, then everyone would know, and understand”.

“Won’t happen. Bill wouldn’t believe in Santa Clause if you took him to the North Pole and introduced him.”

“There’s no Santa Clause”.

“It wouldn’t matter if there were. Bill gets this sadistic kick out of destroying all beliefs. Then again, he might support your idea if it gets people to questioning God. He might trade off one fantasy to get at another. You never know”.

“Paul…Cal began investigating UFOs for a reason. He didn’t believe such nonsense himself until….”

“Until what?”

“Something happened….to me”.

“Like what? You saw a UFO? Lots of people think they see them, but it usually turns out to be something that can be explained”.

“No, I didn’t see a UFO. I never really saw anything.”

“So what happ-” He stared at her. “No. You’re not going to say you were kidnapped by them. Are you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember anything”.

“You mean you lost time? Blacked out?”

“Yes, but there’s more….”

“I gave birth nine months after it happened”.


“You know my background…my stepfather….”

“I’m still lost here. What are you saying?”

“I never wanted to have children. After he raped me, I was so terrified of the act of sex… that I had my tubes tied as soon as I could do it without my mother’s permission. I never even wanted to get married, but….”

“Okay, all right. It all starts to make sense now. When I started to kiss you that night…”

“I was afraid. I liked you, Paul. I liked you a lot. I thought I could handle it, but…”

“Yes, and I acted like a jerk. I made it worse, probably. You could have told me. You could have explained”.

“You seemed so angry… like my stepfather…I couldn’t speak because, well, it brought back memories”.

“I’m sorry. I’m very sorry. I didn’t know. But I wasn’t mad, I was…frustrated. We had dated so long, and I just, I was just too young to realize, I guess.”

“It wasn’t you. It was me”.

“The classic rejection line. At least that’s what I thought when you said it back then. It hurt. It hurt for a long time. I’m truly sorry if I caused you any more pain…but Helen, you don’t need to talk to Bill Jamison. If I couldn’t save you any pain before, but I can now. Just…let it go, or I’ll help you find somebody else”.

“Cal made me promise”.

Paul thought he had forgotten, but now he hated Cal again, for a different reason. He knew Cal from college, they had been friends. But Cal ended up with Helen. Cal understood something that Paul could not, had broken through a barrier that Helen wouldn’t share with him. She trusted Cal more.

“Why did you marry Cal?” he blurted it, suddenly realizing that he was so absorbed he was literally thinking out loud.

“After you and I…I told Cal what happened. I told him my problem with my stepfather. I told him how I felt, and that I couldn’t have children…”

“What? Wait!” It suddenly broke through Paul’s self pity what she was saying. “You couldn’t have children! Of course! But you gave birth nine months after this ‘sighting’, or whatever you think it was”.


“You’re saying…” he stared at her, “You’re saying that this, this something, untied your tubes and caused you to get pregnant?”


“And that’s how you plan to convert Bill Jamison?”


Paul sat quietly for a long moment. “It might work. Can you prove you had yourself ‘fixed’ before all this?”


“And now everything’s back to normal? How do I know you didn’t find some expert doctor who could do this and get things working again?”

“Then find him. Look all you want. I never went to any doctor”.

“How about DNA?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Cal shows to be his father”.

“There. There goes your case. Strange DNA, something, anything different. Do you realize what you’re setting yourself up for? Especially with somebody like Bill Jamison. He’s going to the equivalent of a rape if he takes this thing public”.

“I have to do it….for Cal”.

“For Cal? Did Cal lose his mind? Surely he would know what would happen if this thing goes public!”

“I have to try”.

“Helen, for whatever we might once have meant to each other, I’m begging, don’t do this”.

“If you don’t help me, I’ll find him myself”.

Paul forced himself to smile. He touched her hand again, instinctively. “Such courage. All right. If you’re determined, I can try and help , but Helen, this won’t be pretty. ”

“Thank you. This really means a lot.”

“It’s nothing”. He lied. It was something, a lot bigger than he wished to admit. He realized he still cared.

“Tell, me, why is this Jamison so terrible? What would make him as mean as you say?”

“It’s kind of a long story, but I guess it’s best you should know. Bill Jamison, many years ago, was a true believer. He believed in Gd, he believed in a better world, all those good things people are supposed to believe in.”

“What changed him?”

“His wife. She died. You see, Bill was a believer because mostly he believed in her. He met her when he was just a teen-ager, and his family moved into the house next door. He was smitten from the first time he saw her.”

” It sounds wonderful”.

“For him, it was. He loved her so much that he forgot about himself. All he could do was please her, not that it was wrong, because she seemed to be as taken with him as he was of her. She was just one of those people who was always smiling. Y’know, the kind of person who makes you feel special just being around her”.

“Cal was like that for me”.

“Yeah, well, Bill couldn’t wait to get married out of high school, but he felt he had a military obligation, so he joined the Marines. She was fine with it. He knew she would wait. It was one of those perfect relationships that you know have to work. No two people were more devoted.
“Bill came back from the war, and he was changed. He was very bitter, didn’t talk a lot, but she was so patient. She accepted what he had become, and she waited. He gradually put it all behind him, and he got a job as a writer. Started out with the local paper, and worked his way up to bigger papers, and finally decided to start writing his own books”.

“About UFOs?”

“No, nothing like that. Bill wanted to make people feel good about themselves, because that’s what his wife did. She made everyone feel so much better, and Bill wanted to help people who had been traumatized by war, people who had suffered deep pain. Bill, believe it or not, studied to become a minister”.


“Oh yes. Bill began writing and preaching, spreading the good news. She encouraged him, stood beside him, loved him completely, no matter what. And then she had cancer. Breast cancer. Bill did everything, took her for surgery. She lost her breasts, but he kept telling her it didn’t matter. he tried to be for her what she was to him, but she kept getting worse. The cancer spread. Bill stopped sleeping, stopped writing, started drinking. It was like everything he experienced began to back up inside him and make him remember. He told me later that all he could do was pray, so he prayed constantly, asking God to take him, give her his life, but she died. It broke him mentally and spiritually. He changed. All the love he tried to feel before, just rotted away and turned into a nasty hatred for everything good. He wrote for the money. He wrote for the hatred. He wrote because he wanted to crush the goodness inside of others like it was crushed inside of him….and, he became rich doing it”.

“Rich and hated”.

“Yes, but he didn’t care. It proved to him that everyone was really degenerate, deep down. For every person who hated him, or spit on him, it only proved in his mind that people aren’t worth life or effort.”

“And that’s why you think he’ll hurt me?”

“I know he will. He will because he’s destroyed anything resembling a soul in himself. He lives only to die, just waiting, but too big a coward to take his own life”.

“Then you know how I felt after Cal died”.
“You’re not like him, Helen. He’s evil”.

“Then why do you stay around him?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I used to be his agent, when he needed one, but now I just hang around. He’s a strangely interesting man”.

“Maybe Cal knew something.”

“Then Cal wasn’t thinking about you…I’m sorry”.

“It’s all right. I’m too numb right now to feel hurt. I just want to get this over with”.

“Then forget this. Just let it go. Raise your son, and don’t tell anyone”.

“I can’t do that. Either you get in touch with him, or I’ll find a way”.

“All right. For you, for Cal, for old times. I’ll do it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you”.

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Demon Seed

“I’m going to die”. Cal Johnson said it quietly to himself. It was not the first time he had made such a statement. He had made it in Vietnam many years ago, in an effort to accept the inevitable destiny of everyone, sooner or later. He said it now, hoping that it would calm the terror that tried to consume his mind now, but it was’t working. he hadn’t thought about dying for many years, at least not with the sudden realization that it might all be over in a few seconds. He had forgotten how to live with death, and now he couldn’t control the rising terror that sought to consume him.

“C’mon! C’mon! Damn you!” He cursed the little Volkswagen which was so sensible for scurrying about town, but was a major disappointment when you’re fleeing for your life, especially on a muddy road, with deep ruts beaten into it after two days of hard rain. He was approaching the bottom of the hill, where the ruts just got deeper, and the Volkswagen just got lower. If he didn’t have enough speed to get over that stretch…

In a panic, and against better judgement, he floored the accelerator, and just as quickly realized his mistake, as the “bug” veered sideways, and he had to slowly ease off. “Damn!” he cursed again, “damn you!”, but his verbal accusations did not affect the performance of the beetle.

Back in control steady acceleration, keep it steady… With one hand, he carefully wiped the ‘sweat’ from the inside of the windshield. All that he could see was a driving rain, hurled against him as if trying to stop him from reaching the main highway, only a hundred yards away. A hundred yards between life and death.

“C’mon, oh God, c’mon!” He was truly asking for a higher power, something that would somehow propel him to that main paved highway…”God! God!…c’mon, you bastard! Don ‘t quit on me now!”

But it did. Neither God nor the beetle was going to accommodate him this night. As the little car hit the bottom of the hill, it sank into the deep ruts until the bottom scrubbed and embedded itself in the mud. Cal shoved his foot against the floor. Wheels merely spun as the motor whined its protest. H eased off, gave it a second, and rested his face against the steering wheel. He had never been a praying man. he had never believed in any kind of God, but he found himself praying. “Just…dear Lord, just give me the clarity of mind to think! Just show me a way! ”

He waited and pondered, but only for a second. They were coming. They would find him, and if they did…

“Shit!” He pushed the door open and stood in the drenching rain. Thank God it was summer. The rain was cold, but bearable. He tried to run, and found his fifty eight year old body toppling helplessly, face down, in mud. Maybe it would help. He suddenly remembered an old movie where a soldier had covered himself with mud to escape infrared. He pushed himself slowly from the mire and treaded as fast as he could toward the top of the hill. His feet would slide. Every few steps, he had to bend and catch himself, but he kept desperately pushing. Maybe he would make it. Maybe–

And then he saw it. As he looked over his shoulder, he saw the craft, dark and silent, sliding relentlessly through the air as steadily as if it rode on concrete. There was no sound, no reflection of any kind of light, but only a moving, searching light from the underside.
The light moved across the terrain methodically, looking for any unusual movement. Cal had to get off the road, into the woods. On either side, there was a high bank that had to be climbed. He quickly decided, and ran toward the ban on his left. At the base of the bank, he leaped, hoping for any kind of purchase, anything that might hold him, but his hands slid helplessly, along with his body, down the embankment. He quickly rose and backed up, getting ready for another flying leap, pausing only long enough to survey the bank for anything that he might hold on to.

Near the top, he saw a root protruding from the bank. It was small, but it might support him long enough to pull himself over. If he leaped high enough, he might make it. Only time for one chance.

In spite of himself, he looked to see where the craft was. Just as he looked, the light scouring the road stopped on his car. The light suddenly intensified, and the whole vehicle started to gleam as if bathed in a red hot lava. Just as suddenly, it exploded.

“My God!” he whispered, not daring to make any greater sound. Only one chance. If he missed that root…

He took one deep breath, and ran as fast as he could. His foot did not slide, and he felt himself leaving the ground driven by the acceleration of fear and terror. His hand reached for the root…Got it! He began to pull himself up, and then just as suddenly, he felt an instant of helpless terror as the root began to pull away from the embankment.

“Oh God, please! Just hold…” The root gave way, dropping Cal’s body down, and then suddenly held. He could make it! As if God had answered, the root not only was longer, but gave him room to hold with both hands and climb. He pulled his feet under him, and began to climb the bank. “Thank you, God. I’ll definitely see you in church this Sunday…”

He was exhausted as he pulled himself over. His marine training was too may years ago. He was soft. But thank God for adrenalin.

His lungs heaved from oxygen deprivation but he didn’t have time to rest. He had to find cover. The damn saucer was moving up the road again, still flashing that damn light back and forth methodically.

Cal ran into the woods and dove for a little ditch made in the ground. There were enough leaves to pull them over his body, still covered with mud, so maybe he could escape if he could just stop breathing so hard. His throat hurt from the gasping for air.
The craft then pulled alongside him, at the spot where he had climbed the bank into the woods. its lights were trained on the area where he had run and made his leap. They saw his tracks. They were studying them. They would soon realize he had climbed the bank, and they would start that methodical search with the damn light.

Cal froze under the covering of leaves, trying not even to breathe. His lungs begged for air, but he breathed as lightly as he dared. Rain pelted him, but he held still. Then came the light, the damn light. It moved right over him and beyond. Maybe he was somehow protected by the layer of mud. Maybe they could detect no body heat. The light came back over him again, but it didn’t stop. It kept methodically searching.

There was a movement just beyond him. Cal turned only his eyes, and saw a rabbit, startled from its hiding by the light. The rabbit began to run, and the instantly the light hit him and seemed to hold him in mid-air. Cal was close enough to hear tiny terror screams from the rabbit as it sat immobilized in the light. he watched as it squirmed, and then its head exploded. Cal almost gasped, but managed to keep control.

His heart was pounding. He was till so exhausted. It was beating so loud…Mentally he implored God to hear him just one more time, making any deal that seemed worthwhile. His heart was beating so loud, he feared a heart attack.

Suddenly in terror, he knew it wasn’t just his heart. It was them. Somehow, they had magnified the sound of his own heartbeat, and it was louder and louder. They were triangulating on his own heart! He could tell they were focusing closer as the light began to come closer and closer…
Cal held his breath, but his heartbeat now echoed through the trees and the rain, as if the whole forest were cooperating with the strange silent craft.
Suddenly the light hit directly in Cal’s eyes, and he knew the game was over. No use in hiding. Noting to do but run. He leaped up, but something strange was happening. His body wasn’t moving. He felt nothing, no pain, not even cold or wetness. he was frozen, as if out of time itself. Only a name now filled his mind: Helen. She would be waiting. She had begged him not to come. he wouldn’t come back to her. “Helen” he whispered, and the forest itself whispered as if mocking, her name ringing through the trees and the rain, mimicking his pain.

Then he felt the crushing pain tearing at his chest like a vice. He screamed, but the scream only amounted to a whisper, echoed once again through the trees and carried by the rain, “I love you, Helen!”

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George- The Reason I was An Honest Loan Shark

I can’t remember the guy’s last name. He was a tall, rangy boy from Georgia whose name was probably given to him in honor of his home state.

He was “country” all the way, and everybody considered him naive, to put it nicely, but he personally thought himself to be the smartest of all marines.

George meant well, but he was genetically gifted with the kind of personality you love to hate. This made me tend to pity him, but I liked to see him get “nailed” from time to time.

We were playing on the deck of the ship, down in the hold, hiding from any Petty Officers or NCOs, a game of Acey Deucey. George’s time came up, and the dealer threw an ace, and then, wonderful luck for George, another Ace, which could be called “high” next to the “low” of the other Ace. Anything in the deck, except a third Ace, made George a winner of $250.00(which was still a good bit of money in the early 70s).

George bet on the whole pot. “Wait” said the dealer, “do you have enough money to cover the pot if you lose?”

George smirked. He was bad about smirking, which pissed off a lot of people. “Hell yes” he said, throwing down what was $250.00 after the dealer counted it.

George then started bragging. “Looks like I’m gonna take you guys for some money tonight”. Then he started laughing for good measure, and everybody was hoping for that third Ace to turn up.

The dealer threw the third card, and the third Ace hit the floor, right on top of the other two. George’s eyes bugged out, and I figured he was near a heart attack. Most of the guys cheered. He then cut loose with a string of cuss words that were pretty creative for a country boy like himself. Strangely, he never thought to question the integrity of the dealer, who happened to be me. That was what bothered me about George. He was an arrogant ass, but he trusted people. He just couldn’t learn to watch his mouth.

On that same float, George decided to push his luck again. On Thursday nights, we could gather in the dining hall and watch NFL games that had been played the Sunday before. As I said, I always had access to inside info on who won and who lost, and the info was generally kept secret for betting purposes.

This was truly a game for betting, assuming no one knew the outcome. The Miami Dolphins, who had recently won the Super Bowl a few seasons before, still guided by Don Shula and pretty much the same gang, were playing the LA Rams, an up-and-coming bunch coached by Chuck Knox.

LA had a good team, but still no team measured up to the Dolphins consistently. LA had a good defense, but Griese could take apart defenses. LA had a good passing quarterback in James Harris, but he was still inexperienced. Miami jumped ahead in the first quarter.

George looked at me and said ” You wanna bet on LA?”

“Why not?” I said, shrugging.

Miami scored another TD in the second quarter, and a third TD in the third quarter. George was full of smirks, as usual. “You wanna double that bet?” he asked. ‘Might as well” I answered.

Then a strange thing happened. LA suddenyl came to life. Harris thrrew a bomb, which was caught and carried to the end zone. The score was 21-7, most of the fourth quarter left.

George winced, but he was trying to prove his confidence. He smiled at me and asked “Still wanna raise the bet?”


Miami then managed a drive that ended in a field goal. Now it was 24-7, and George relaxed. “Let’s just bet an even $200” he said, “You’re not scared are you?” He didn’t really believe I would, but I did.

Then the kick return specialist exploded for a touchdown on the kickoff and it was suddenly 24-14. Still plenty of time, and LA was only 10 points down. George was looking uneasy.

Miami began moving the ball toward the end zone, and it was looking good. Then Greise threw a rare interception, which was run to the 20 yard line of Miami. Three plays later, it was 24-21, still good time left.

I smiled at George. “Wanna double the bet?” I asked. George was visibly sweating. “No, I’ll stay where I am”.

Miami was stopped, and LA went into its “2 minute drill”. Harris was throwing precision passes, threading the needle, and Miami couldn’t stop him. Less than a minute left, and LA was sitting on the 15 yard line of Miami. Harris threaded a needle to the end zone with two men covering the receiver, who caught it by some miracle, and suddenly it was 28-24, LA.

That was the final score. Several marines were gathered, not so much from the game, but from my reaction to the game. Most of them knew that I had access to inside information, and I was a terrible poker player, because I only bet on a sure thing. When George raised the stakes and I accepted, they knew LA would win. But George, that poor ol’ country boy just couldn’t learn.

Now, they were watching me, and they were watchng George, who was sadly counting out $200.00 in my hand. I knew even they were beginning to feel sorry for the brute.

I handed him back the money. He stared at me. “You won fair and square” he said.

“No, I didn’t”.

“Why not?”

“I knew how it would end before the game started. I always know the score, but I never tell anyone. Part of my deal with one of the guys in communications”.

“You cheated!”

“No. You’re getting your money back. I just wanted to teach you, be careful with your money. That stuff don’t grow on trees”.

“Actually it does. Its made from paper, and paper is made from trees.”.

“You wanna give it back to me?”


“I want everybody to know, I’m honest. I don’t deliberately cheat anybody. I stick to the deals we make, and I want you to know you can trust me. You take care of me, I take care of you”.

Maybe George learned. He stayed pretty quiet the rest of the float.

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Loan Sharking In The Marines

During my time in Okinawa, I discovered there was very little to do on “The Rock” as other marines called it. There was access to books, but most marines don’t read that much. Lots of money was spent on gambling, from poker, to battles between mongoose and snake, which was legal in Japan, down to betting on which side a coin would land if flipped, from sheer boredom.

I found one of my better opportunities on loaning money to cover the “pot” during a card game called “Acey Deucey”. Simple game, easy to bet on. Two cards are thrown. If it’s your turn, you can bet on whether the next card falls between the two cards thrown. The further apart in rank the two cards are, the better the chances. For example, if one card thrown is an ace, and the other card thrown is a two, you have a good opportunity to collect the “pot”. If two aces are thrown, you can count one as “high” and the other as “low” so that anything else thrown will fall between the two.

Since I was generally quiet, and considered honest, I was asked to deal from time to time. A friend of mine was getting ready to bet, and I threw two aces with $400.00 in the pot. He had a sure thing, but not $400.00 to thrown in order to cover the bet. I offered to cover the bet, since I had the money. Everyone agreed, and my friend and I split the pot.

Since most marines worried more about something to do instead of being frugal, a marine suggested that I loan him money. He borrowed $20 and paid back $40. I couldn’t turn that down, so I went ahead and did it. Next thing I know, people are coming to me from all directions, asking for loans of various amounts. One guy borrowed $400.00 from me, and repaid $700.00. I didn’t have the heart to charge him a dishonest amount. 🙂

In time, I was the “banker” to many activities. I never asked what the money was for, only that it got paid back. During that time, I was introduced to an NCO here and there who had spending problems, and I worked out deals with them in which they could act as intimidators and collectors and I would forego monetary re-payment for their help in collecting.

One guy borrowed $20 from me about the time I started loaning, and ignored my requests that he re-pay me. About two nights before he was to leave The Rock, he was visited by a muscular sergeant who talked with a Philly accent much like Sylvester Stallone in “Rocky”. The sergenat told the guy, “If you do not pay my friend what you owe, I will see you again, and I won’t be wearing these stripes, understand?”

Early the next day, the guy shows up with a handful of money and says “Call off your dogs!”.

“What dogs? What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about! Just tell them to leave me alone!”

He hands me forty dollars and leaves.

I always liked to keep informed on latest news as well, and generally had ways to avoid duty in certain areas. I really hated those incorruptible Commanding Officers who knew I was up to something but couldn’t prove it. Constant harassment, threats of Office Hours, refusing to pay me during “pay call”, none of which hurt me, since I could call in favors in any situation, and I was already making far more money than the marines paid me anyway. If they never paid me again, it wouldn’t have made any difference.

On float to Australia, the NFL sent tapes of games played on Sunday, but I was generally informed before everybody as to who won the games, well before the games were shown on ship. Made great money on that.

Had I stayed at Okinawa, I could probably have bought out some businesses in the “Ville” as they called the town outside the base, but too many officers were getting suspicious of me, and I figured it was a matter of time. I left the island in quite good financial shape.

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Judge Alito and Search Warrants

The Supremes have now gone and kicked aside the requirement for search warrants in pursuit of criminals. A recent case in which police were supposedly pursuing a criminal led them to a closed door in which they said they smelled marijuana, and heard noises of the person inside possibly destroying evidence.

The Supremes have ruled that this is permissible, since the evidence may have been destroyed by the time a warrant was obtained. Was there probable cause? Well, if the police did indeed smell marijuana, certainly they had right to suspect a law was being broken. Were they of necessity restricted to waiting for a warrant?

The answer is both Yes and No, depending on which view you have of the Constitution:
1.More recent interpretations of the 4th Amendment, involving exclusionary rules, or
2. The original intent and meaning of the 4th Amendment as intended by the founders.

Did the founders ever intend that a person could hide in his home if he committed a crime, while they had to wait for a warrant to obtain evidence of a clearly committed crime?

NO. The wording of the Amendment is quite clear:

“The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and persons or things to be seized.”

The issue is not about warrants, but the first part of the amendment:

“The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, shall not be violated..”

If the people had the right to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, how is that right violated?

Actually, there is only one way it can be violated, and that is by making a law that creates a crime of itself.

If a person, residing in the privacy of his home, harming no one, commits an act that is declared criminal of itself, then the police are empowered to kick down doors if necessary to apprehend the criminal.

Can this be done, by the Constitution? Can the legislature create a crime simply by making an action in which no one is harmed criminal? If they can, then the legislature has the power to incriminate any person at a majority whim, and then can pay a policeman to act as the accuser of the defendant.

Let’s see what Justice Joseph Story says about this in his commentaries. Keep in mind that Justice Story was appointed as Justice by President James Madison, also known as the father of the Constitution, so Story should understand the original intent.

“Formerly, search warrants, in a general form, were issued from the State Department in England, authorizing officers to search houses and persons, without naming any persons or places in particular, so that, under color of such warrants, every man’s house in the kingdom might, at the mere discretion of such officers, be searched, without any ground of accusation. Such warrants were, however, held illegal by the courts of justice in England, and this amendment(4th Amendment) not only pronounces them illegal, but prohibits congress from passing any laws to give them effect”.

If a law makes an action criminal of itself, it then acts as a warrant justifying police enforcement of that act.

Can this be done by congress? In a word, HELLNO.

First of all, we can see from reading such treatises as the commentaries of St george Tucker, Justice Story, Chancellor James Kent, and the SCOTUS decisions such as United States vs Aaron Burr, along with Calder vs Bull, that SCOTUS has no jurisdiction over common law in criminal cases.

Chancellor James kent, a highly respected legal expert, contemporary of Joseph Story, writes:

“The United States, in its national capacity, have no common law, and their courts have not any common law jurisdiction in criminal cases”.

He further writes:
“34th section of the Judiciary Act ‘Trials at common law’ was not applicable for crimes. It applied to civil suits…In a great variety of cases, arising under laws of the United States, the will of the legislature cannot be executed unless by adoption of the common law”.

So, what does this have to do with anything? Well, what was understood by the colonists has been ignored and blurred by generations of lawyers and statists over the past two centuries. The function of common law is found in the 5th and 14th Amendments of the US Constitution under “due process”:

“(no person shall) be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law…”

So? Here is the very important point: due process of law is common law, not US Constitutional law.

This is pointed out clearly by Justice Story:

“The other part of the clause(due process) is but an enlargement of the language of Magna Carta: ‘Neither will we pass upon him, or condemn him, but by the lawful judgement of his peers, or by the law of the Land’. Lord Coke(Chief Justice of Common Pleas of England) says, that these latter words ‘by the Law of the Land’ mean, by due process of law, that is, without due presentment or indictment, and being brought in to answer thereto by due process of the common law. So that this clause, in effect, affirms the right of trial, according to the processes and proceedings of the common law”.

As James Kent has shown, there is no SCOTUS jurisdiction over common law, and no person can be deprived of life, liberty, or property, but by due process, which is clearly defined as common law.

So, constitutionally, who has the jurisdiction over common law? We can turn to “Federalist 45” and see what James Madison, the “father” of the Constitution, has to say:

“The powers reserved to the several states will extend to all the objects, which, in the ordinary course of affairs, concern the lives, liberties, and properties of the people…”

Notice that; “lives, liberties, and properties” will be reserved to the states. Now look at the due process clause of the 5th Amendment again:

No person shall be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law(common law). Criminal jurisdiction over common law was reserved to the states! This is the plain statement of James Madison, combined with the 5th Amendment.

But doesn’t SCOTUS have appellate jurisdiction over common law? Can’t it reverse state decisions regarding common law jurisdiction? Again, in one word, HELLNO.

Here is what Justice Story writes:

“An appeal is a process of civil law origin, and removes a cause entirely subjecting the fact, as well as the law, to a review and a re-trial. A writ of erroris a process of common law origin. As Story points out, the colonist got really upset about the phrase in Article 3 of the Constitution that “The Supreme Court shall have appellate jurisdiction both as to law and fact”.

The understanding of the colonists was that common law is superior to civil law. This underastanding, in fact, was derived from Blackstone and early writers on common law, such as Edward Coke.

Blackstone writes:

“For the civil and canon laws, considered with respect to any intrinsic obligation, have no force or authority in this kingdom; they are no more binding in England than our laws are binding in Rome…Because it is most plain that it is not on account of their being written laws, that either the canon law or the civil law have any obligation within this kingdom: neither do their force and efficacy depend on their own intrinsic authority, which is the case of our written laws, or acts of Parliament. They(canon and civil laws) bind not the subjects of England, because their material were collected from popes or emperors, were digested by Justinian (Justinian Code), or declared to be authentic by Gregory. Those considerations give them no authority here”

Quite simply, Justinian Code, corpus juris civilis r laws originating in Rome, k nwn generally as civil law, had no authority over common law.

This is what the colonists understood, and they rejected any appellate power of the Supreme Court over common law. For that reason, they approved the 7th Amendment:

“In suits at common law, where the value in controversy shall exceed twenty dollars, the right of trial by jury shall be preserved, and no fact tried by a jury, shall be otherwise re-examined in any court of the United States(federal courts) than according to the rules of the common law.”

Appellate power was restricted to civil law.

From this perspective, therefore, the recognized right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, were not to be violated. Violated how? The Supreme Court could not intervene in common law decisions regarding criminal law. No federal warrants could issue, unless there were specific names of places to be searched for specific reasons. IOW, the federal government had to have permission to search any person regarding a criminal act!

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