By TomSchwing, copyrighted by Kalahari
Galloway Publishing, all rights reserved.
25 Cents worth of Philosophy. Excerpt from The Pocket
Universe Chronicles Expanded.
Glennon and Appleweed at the GodlingAcademy
class, take your seats! You there, in the back! Stop that rough-housing and sit
down immediately! Books out, pencils out, and pay attention! There will be a quiz people, 20% of your
strikes, like gunshots, ricocheted from the blackboard behind her, chalk
shrapnel flying as she emblazoned her name. The day’s lesson plan burst rapid
fire from the chalk in her mighty right hand, her arm a blur of efficiency in
motion. She’d rolled up the black sleeve on the right, to prevent soiling by
the white dust, revealing a forearm more suited for the blacksmith’s forge than
the classroom. The mighty nun’s penmanship, even with the humble chalk wand,
was like calligraphy.
Appleweed took their assigned desks in the front row of Grade One at the GodlingAcademy. Even the sophisticated Dr.GiahnAppleweed seemed to be intimidated by the force of will
calling itself Sister IgnatiusTitanicus. He took no advantage of
the opportunity to clown around while her back was turned, though his slouching
posture behind the desk conveyed his true attitude silently to the rest of the
class. Anton did his best to shrink
into anonymity, an impossible task, cross-haired as he was, in the mighty nun’s
high beam gun-sight at the front of the classroom. A student hasn’t known true
intimidation until parked front row center before a nun from the Titan race.
They are Authority personified.
Sister Iggy was seven
feet tall, in full force penguin suit habit, jet black with a big white
valence, concealing most of her forehead. It looked to be more resilient than
stainless steel, and added another foot to her already Titanic height. Razor
thin brows were allowed full expression, just under the cumbersome head gear,
built in warning flags to the potential victims of her discipline. The
full-length habit’s hem just missed the floor, exposing only beefy hands and
face to the world, hiding the steel-toed combat boots that Glennon felt sure
were under there, ready at a moment’s notice to recalibrate any ass foolish
enough to challenge her authority. The headgear framed a fierce red-faced
countenance, oddly like one freshly shaved. The stern face commanded attention,
thrust through this one lonely porthole of the habit, though true gender was
indecipherable on this isolated visual input alone. Save for the title of
“Sister”, announcing her name on the blackboard behind her and the only true
clue as to her gender, Glennon thought she’d be an excellent candidate for the
kindle filled with an explosion of text as Force Ignatius clapped the dust from
her mighty hands and directed her attention to the class. Having found himself
in the front row seat of his aisle of students, he had no inkling about the
identities of the classmates behind him. He noted that the text on the kindle
followed the headings of the day’s lesson blazed on the blackboard. He raised
his eyes as the Force moved down through the aisle of desks, its shadow eclipsing
the text on his kindle as it moved by.
“Who can give
me an example to prove the formula T+E=E? Quickly! Anyone! “MissSchucman!”
“A Course in
Miracles!” replied a tinny female voice from the back of the class.
“Correct Helen! Welcome back to class, you seem to have
recovered from your exorcism nicely.”
Anton looked down when the chat signal blinked on his
kindle. Seems he was being passed a note from one Father
remember that piece of heresy. It was endorsed for awhile by such revered
theological authorities as OprahWinfrey in the Crazy Years. (LOL)
Two psychologists playing fast and loose with
reverse psychology, using the oldest trick in the book, claiming in the opening
pages that the Course was not to be used as the basis for a new religion.
Somewhat like CSLewis encouraging a reader to skip
over certain passages, and thereby insuring that it will be read. Like a “Do
not Click Here” tag on an internet webpage.
I have an intuition that ACIM may have started
as an intellectual hoax between two pompous psych professors, concerning the
ease of firing up a cult in the Crazy times. In any case whatever “voice” Helen was channeling is obviously not of a divine
source, considering the fruit produced from that poisonous tree.
was a classic case of the wide open ungrounded mind, begging for trouble. You
know the type, dabbling in religion as a hobby, shopping for the one that
suited her best. This too is a classic Screwtape strategy, to keep the patient
browsing, making him a connoisseur of churches, and in the process isolating
him from any true community of Christians. Of Catholic/Jewish upbringing, Helen was probably the product of religious
indifference cultivated to keep the domestic peace, a common pitfall in
cross-cult marriages. She told me that she found comfort in the Catholic
rituals, but the poor dear never realized that being comfortable is not a
spiritual priority. This was combined with a naïve reverence for pseudo science
that should be reserved only for mathematics in the search for truth.
state of spiritual idiocy was the classic opening for the Imposter, and he
bamboozled her good, once he got inside that wide open door. The demon voice
had the poor thing convinced that she had a direct line to the Holy Spirit. She
ended up as a raving psychotic. I knew her at Columbia, and I visited her near the end of
her life. I have never heard such demonic vitriol as emerged from her near the
end. Claimed she was dying because “That damn book wants me out of the way!”
In any case, any student of Augustine (who himself had fallen prey to the temptations of
a freely stampeding philosophy unbridled by faith) could spot the demonic clues
that the Imposter can’t resist leaving in his works. In ACIM the work logically
implodes in the first exercises; when it reminds the reader to notice that
everything in the room around him is meaningless, then to repeat the exercise
making sure not to overlook anything in the room. This of course includes the
book in his hands. This is one of the T statements that must be culled form the
bulk of error written by the Imposter. In this case there is so much error that
the effort is null, considering that one can only read so many books in a
lifetime. Heads up! Iggy at your !
Anton became aware of the shadow again, Sister Ignatius loomed at
his side. Don’t call on me, don’t call on me, please don’t call on me…
thought. Why does that always backfire?
plus Error equals Error, Mister Glennon,
what other knowledge can we glean by transcribing the formula? Is this
statement true or false?” The chalk wand chattered in a brief staccato across
the blackboard, adding to the original statement.
flustered so he guessed.
“INCORRECT!” boomed Force Ignatius,
causing Glennon to melt into his seat. “This statement is false because it is
assuming facts not in evidence. E is always
an unknown quantity, a random number
at best.” The nun whirled towards the blackboard again, adding a new explosion
of shrapnel to the air; a fifty caliber burst this time. The chalk wand had
restored itself to full length, having been decimated by her use of it to
emphasize her italics on the blackboard.
(E+E+E+E+E+E+E) X = T
Glennon’s kindle chat signal lit
up once again.
and you still got it wrong! Nah, Nah, Nah-nana! LOL-Rena.
Anton felt a flash of memory from the root man’s
archive that he still carried within his cranial database. There were two “Rena” entries stored there, one meek and mild, and
the other a perpetual scholastic rival, considering it her holy mission to keep
him humble throughout his elementary career. His face went from blush to
crimson, causing several feminine giggles from the back of the class, and an
appreciative snort from Appleweed next to him, so he knew she had sent the
malicious note to every kindle in the classroom. He didn’t dare turn his head
to see who the giggling offenders were, but he prayed with all the power of his
own meager will that Force Ignatius would take his revenge for him.
Yes, thought Anton, there is a God!
Sister?” Anton was not comforted by
the expectant and confident tone of his rival’s voice. So much for vengeance.
“What is the
value of “X” in the statement above?”
Sister! Namely, the scientific method.” replied the confident voice of the
scholarly woman from the back of the room. “Some theological mathematicians
postulate that this method, bridled by faith, invokes the variable S.”
“Well done Rena! Good answer!” praised the mighty nun, much to Anton’s chagrin. “Examples! Hands up please! Mr.Appleweed,
what a pleasant surprise, nice of you to join us.”
variable‘S’ equals the Serendipity
factor, thought to be an aspect of Spirit, allowing Yahweh to calibrate human
technology and science for the betterment of mankind. For example the discovery
of penicillin as the result of the consumption of old moldy bread by low income
peasants, who were kept immune from certain plagues, while the upper class who
could afford freshly baked white bread were dropping like flies.”
“Nice to see
all those Cannablend cigars you consume haven’t yet fried all of your synapses Mr.Appleweed.”
replied the nun, causing a loud wave of laughter throughout the classroom. Weed
glared at the Force, not intimidated, but the hint of a MonaLisa
smile crept into his rebellious countenance nonetheless. He knew it was the
closest semblance of a compliment that the likes of him could expect from the Force.
Sister Iggy returned to the board once again. “So
it would seem that we can extrapolate another Theo-mathematical formula as
T= F(X) + S
“Where T equals truth, F equals
faith, multiplied by X being the quest for knowledge using the scientific
method, plus S being Serendipity or a manifestation of Spirit. Any questions
class? Yes, Doctor Newton?”
all of my conclusions using the formula minus S, and my physics have been a
foundation of T for centuries. How do you explain that?”
you scheduled on your calendar an appointed date with a falling apple Doctor Newton?” The wave
of laughter rolled through the classroom yet again, reassuring Anton, as misery loves company, and SirIsaacNewton was certainly an elite
partner to have in his humility.
Sister Ignatius placed
the chalk on its shelf under the blackboard, and turned to the class, hands
clasped before her, the signal to them to prepare for a lecture.
never fall into the traps set before the scientific mind by the ancient Enemy,
and his chief demon Pride. Should Pride creep into the formula, truth is
reduced to mere knowledge, and error than runs exponentially. Under the old
Yahweh clock, the human races were allowed to plod along at a toddler’s pace. Consider
the alchemists, misguided in their quest by greed, squandering their talent and
wasting lifetimes. This led to centuries of stumbling through the dark. The
truth was found only with calibration as required by Spirit. With Pride running
the show, many of the highest caliber minds, having achieved certain glimpses
of truth, which are the mind of God, than tended to use this evidence to prove
that God did not exist. Yes, Doctor Einstein?
“I found zat
revelation vas proportional to awe, concerning ze incredible mind of Gott.”
said the good Doctor in his meek German accent. “Zee closer I drew to him in my
mathematics, zee more I respected him.”
Exactly!” responded the nun. “Which is as it should be for a good Jewish boy
such as you. Having recognized the Grace
of your talent, and its Source, the fruits of your work are stipulated. The
quest for Truth directed by sincere Faith fine tunes the channel of knowledge
that leads to the breakthroughs in science that accelerate the usefulness of
man to his Creator. Patience with the pace of time, though not always with
human conduct, is an aspect of Yahweh father, yet the history of miracles would
suggest that Yeshua Son does not share this aspect. In Yeshua’s kingdom we will
not have the luxury of plodding through new dark ages.”
Sister Ignatius returned
to the blackboard and wrote out:
Homework Assignment Theological
kindles for individual assignments class. I will expect your reports to be
handed in complete at the next session. Anyone who hasn’t completed her or his
work will be sent immediately to Yeshua’s office, you can explain yourself to
signaling the end of class rang, tolling as if in a cathedral, and the students
began to rise from their desks.
“HOLD IT PEOPLE!” bellowed
Force Ignatius, in a thunderous voice. The class immediately dropped to their
seats again, frozen at attention. “The bell does not dismiss you! I am the one
who dismisses this class!” The mighty nun turned her back to them, leaving them
to contemplate this grave transgression, and leisurely began to erase the
blackboard. When she was finished, polishing the board with extreme care to its
originalperfection, and cutting short
their allotted four minute transit time to the next class by half, she placed
the eraser on its shelf and turned back to face them.
Appleweed joined the bustling herd headed for the door. With only two minutes
until he was due in his next class (Demonology 101) he was left with no time to
socialize with his classmates, but RenaRealivitch
did manage to stick her tongue out at him, just before she disappeared through
the door, surrounded by her ever present bevy of laughing and admiring women.