HERE IN THE ARMS OF ASSASSINS - Part 2 by Ken Gage ©2001

They had god in their eyes and guns in their hands -- those were the mentally inert. But an active mind resides in an active body. Retirement isn't an option for the mentally alert. Plus there were other dangers to be considered.

Retirement means less exposure to psychic attacks. Probable and possible. The mornings begin slowly. Maybe get one's ears wet listening to any U.S. radio news program. Problem is that the mind soon follows. And water on the brain is, as they used to enjoy saying in school, no joking matter. Makes one gray with envy.

"Why not become a parapsychologist?" is a question that automatically arises next. But parapsychology is a dead profession; it's one of those jobs that begins with retirement. Besides, just ask any five-year old about it and he or she will adequately respond with "What's it like to jump out of an airplane?"

No, it's a ghost-chasing road to Pac-man nowhere. Save it for the final act. When there are only three installments, you can expect the second one to be long-winded and short-circuited: important political tools. Long-winding and short-circuiting might get one through college easily enough, if you follow the rules.

"Why not become a parapsychologist?"

A curious fact about the news -- any news or systematic propagation device really -- is its amazing expansive capacity. Never a blank page produced. No dead air. Can such a thing truly be? The news inspires. It boggles. Expands and radiates.

One can almost see oneself becoming a C.I.A. killing machine, exerting worldly influence and dispensing patriotic ideals for the universal benefit of mankind. How could the dying object? They don't know any better. Kill them gently; they'll soon get over it. It would be very un-American if they did not.

"Why not become a parapsychologist?" Kids ask the darndest things, don't they?

A little erasure here, some pen marks there and Alesda Maderi walks in the door.

"Sorry about the confusion. Been a little too caught up in everybody else's soap opera and it can make a girl a touch unbalanced. I feel tons better now -- physically, that is -- almost over this period thing, you know."

It doesn't take an advanced degree in biometrics to finger a culprit like P.M.S. The F.B.I. man complains, "That's the way things are in today's crime-ridden world."

On the T.V., the Penguin and Joker complain to Batman about the woes of the law-ridden world. It's just as ridiculous sounding. Perhaps moreso.

F.B.I. bigshot continues, "Truth is, you can't legislate morality. Any good character education is wasted if your pupil is a first-class shithead."

Alesda finished her coffee and spoke up. "Ahhh...well, it is better than it was a year ago. I cannot say that I do not beleive that there is some kinda chemical or hormonal imbalance occuring, but I also do not subscribe to the idea that there is an instant cure out there in the form of a pill that I can take. Why risk dulling the brain on a consistent basis just so that we girls don't feel icky for a few days once a month. I feel perfectly fine if I am allowed to deal with it naturally, without inhibitions. Up until about 4 months ago I really was very, very scattered. Had problems with concentration and wanted to hide from the world in general."

F.B.I. man flaps his jaws quickly, "Then again, if morality can not be legislated, what the Hell has Congress been doing all these years?"

He hit the nail squarely. Alesda knew he'd never drive it home though. Too dense. Weak swinger. Congress, meanwhile, continued to work at their phantom morality machine, all the time protecting the power structure and it's vested interests. Everyone pretended to call the whole deal "normal."

"I am not depressed or anything. Just seem to need a lot of extra rest...and then I'm fine. Really," Alesda explained. "Thing is, this world finds that abnormal. And that is the problem. Physically, I feel just...well, AWFUL, really really AWFUL, at least for day two and three of this monthly curse -- like I have the flu, and I run a small fever and get extra sleep and don't have to face the outside world and, then, I am fine. It's going to work and stuff that makes me crazy!"

F.B.I. man shrugs.

Alesda: "And I dunno if that makes any sense or not, but that is how it is and, really, i think it is NORMAL. But they think they have to FIX IT. Problem is, fixing it really just makes for larger problems. As far as I am concerned, ...."

He turns pale blue. Stammers, too. And then the F.B.I. guy opens up. He says, "Guess that maybe sometimes I am afraid that being so honest will make you hate me. You see, I cannot ever remember being a kid. Wasn't allowed in my house. Had to be the best. Remember getting beat up once over not having the right answer to flash cards when I was four years old. Had to be so many other things. It seems silly now, but that is how it was."

"Why not become a parapsychologist?"