You know back in this period of 1970 I was wrestling with labels people were placing on me. Six or seven weeks earlier I found out that I had been labeled Scitzophrenic by an agency of the State, and I did not take kindly to the treacherous way in which it was done. On tape in my own commentary I spoke of "When I go for my pre induction physical on April 23rd. I'll be able to have it out with the Army psychiatrists and make them tell me that I'm not insane". But when that fateful Thursday finally arrived- - the day came and went and nothing was resolved. I remember that Saturday our dad packed off two cats that were hanging around our house to the pound. I remember looking forward to group therapy that Monday. I had a lot I wanted to tell those people. But then I learned at the last minute the meeting was cancled. I didn't take too kindly to that. I can't say that my mental state improved any in the next few days. Finally things came to a head when- - - (someone turned off my microphone- - wait I'm not done yet)
We now interrupt this filler material to get back to tonight’s feature presentation, which was delayed due to getting the projector up and running. - - - The subject lay on a cot in a small room. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and appeared not to know where he was. He heard voices outside. (outside camera view) The hall was filled with medical looking personell and some of them had clip boards and were gesturing and pointing at the subjects room. Meanwhile the subject was trying to peace his reality together. He went for the door to open it but it was locked. He thought of attracting attention and getting help but then a highly disturbing thought entered his mind. What if he were a prisoner of war being detained by the government. He didn’t find the fact that the people were speaking English at all confortable. He had read all the articles about government torture. What if this were another Abo-grave? Perhaps he should savor this moment of solitude. Perhaps when they do come in it might be to water-board him or apply some other unpleasantness. After a short while the door opened. “You’re ready for the final phase of your processing before you start work”. “Work?” he thought, even more confused. He asks them, “Why was that door locked? I got a little freaked. “That is for your protection. You don’t have your supernatural protection shield yet and on this past night you were particularly vulnerable. The subject asks, “Just what or who am I to be working for?” The medical personnel looked at each other and muttered something about “the usual amnesia that often happens at this time”. One speaks. “Well, to put it in terms you might understand, you are what you might call an angel”. “Angel? Am I in heaven??” “Of course not. You’re in
They walked on down the hall. Something was eminating “fermiliar vibes” but he couldn’t pin anything down in his mind. Maybe he was having a memory of something that had just happened in the last day or two, but he didn’t know. He needed answers. Then he noticed that a lot of the faces seemed to be fermiliar. Where had he seen them before? Then it came to him. “Hey” he says finally, excitedly. This is the set of “24” isn’t. She’s on the show, and she is- - and he is - - and he is. Then he came face to face with Jack Bower at the elevator. “Jack, or whatever you name is in real life- - I forget- - how are things going”. One of the attendants speaks, “This is P F Jones”. “Yeah, I go by the initials P F” “As in Flyers?” A look of recognition falls across Jack’s face. Oh, you’re a funny man! No, my real name is Phinias”. “Phinias- - isn’t that an Egyptian name?” “Hey, this guy is smart. That kind of knowledge will be useful to us. Not that many people know I have Egyptian ancestry. They step into the elevator and re-emerge on another floor. “You can get coffee and breakfast here. We can talk while you are eating”. The subject speaks. I’m just a little- - - confused- - about when everything- - Changed- - - “ “Changed?” “Yeah- - you know made the transference into the Twilight Zone. Where does my reality diverge from yours.” The air hung in a pregnant pause when one of the attendants spoke up. Perhaps a review of history would be appropriate at this time.” The subject interrupted. “Well you know if you’re all angels here- - or did I just imagine hearing THAT- - what’s your gig?” “Well, for history to unfold in the proper manner it’s important that we intervene, unseen to the Living obviously, when the president will be in danger in
An attendant spoke, “Just where it is that you think you’ve been for eight years, anyhow”. The subject says, “Never mind. What I’d like to know is where do YOU PEOPLE say I was.” “You’ve been at our various training facilities around the country. Our organization has been in existence since July of 2001 when it was organized because those in the know - - knew that the Democrats would be in this state of peril from the Right Wing eventually, when President Al Gore began passing his liberal agenda such as universal health care- - cap & trade, and passing the Constitutional Amendment guarenteing the right to gay marriage”. The subject’s mouth drops open. “I – guess I shouldn’t be surprised at that one”. Another said, “Since you died prior to July 2001 you have a preferred status as far as priority of being picked for a mission.” Subject (sarcastically) “Wow, aren’t I the lucky one” Another spoke, who had previously been quiet. “Our mental imaging device from readings we’ve done on your brain show a divergence from reality commencing in the late summer of two thousand. I think your mental breakdown all began in a meeting with your therapist at the Fullerton Mental Health center in mid September of 2000. I believe it was your eighteenth meeting. It seems the topic of your marriage had been under discussion and when you began talking about your Divorce from Laura you kind of lost it and flew into a ranting rage. You were scheduled for a nineteenth meeting in a few days but you never showed. You made excuse after excuse not to go to any more meetings. Does any of this ring a bell?” The subject responded, “Only that the last meeting was number sixteen. And I scrupulously avoided the topic of any event that took place in the mid or late eighties. But there was no emotional scene. I just- - felt I’d had enough therapy and quit coming.” “It’s that false memory thing of yours kicking in again, remembering what you want to remember”. The subject was starting to get a little rattled now. “OK you smarties. So I’m some kind of a raving nut. You know something. They say I was an alcoholic but I never, but never was seen drunk at a public gathering, and why don’t you research your records on that if you’re so smart.” They responded, “There you go again. He goes to the computer. “Perhaps you’d believe it if it was in your own words. Here is a list of all the files you did in the latter part of 2000 and 2001 up to the day of your death”. Continuing to speak- - - “Do these files look fermiliar to you. Will you acknowledge that you wrote them?” The subject looks at them - - “Sure I wrote these from what I see”. Perhaps Thanksgiving of 2000 would be illuminating. Would you like to read what you wrote about the family gathering them. You were at your brothers and you needed a drink when you arrived, and when you got there you drank like a fish and became pretty wasted to the embarrassment of everyone at that gathering”. Subject: “No. That’s not right. My brother didn’t serve alcohol that day. I was expecting it but I didn’t get it. I remember I had the jitters that gathering”. Another spoke. “OK, enough of this reminiscing. You need to hurry and finish your breakfast and so we can get on with your final meta-physical transformation- - and get on to the specifics of your mission to keep President Berock Obama from being Assonated and altering history.
At this point- a caption flashes “End Of Part One- - now here are Previews”.
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