Sir . . . Is that you.
This is the appointed place and the
appointed hour, is it not?
Devil . . . God-Father
D’ Evil . . . Yer’onher
. . .
Ahh . . . Sir . .
. How shall I address
call me Big D.
Is that for Big Daddy, Dallas,
or The Devil?
As you will.
I’ve set a chair here for you.
With an air
of authority which matched his deep,
penetrating voice, Big D slid off
the bow and slowly moved across the
deck in my direction. As he
approached, I went into complete
panic. My whole body began to
shake. I strained to control
my anal sphincter. In
desperation, I thrust my left hand
deeply into my jacket pocket and,
with trembling fingers, clutched
both the cross and the holy water.
For a split second that seemed like
an eternity, his eye fixed on my
left hand. He paused
slightly, hardly enough to notice,
and then his demeanor seemed to
Big D You needn’t
be frightened. I'm not
here to harm you.
He Laughed and continued walking in
Big D If I
intended to harm you, you’d need a
lot more than your religious
artifacts to protect you.
Describing Big D
My eyes pierced the semi-darkness as
much as possible, and focused on my
un-welcomed guest. As
near as I could tell in the
combination of dim, yacht light and
the fast-fading daylight, he looked
like a normal human male.
His immaculately cut and pristinely
pressed, dark blue, business suit
smelled of money. A
snow-white dress shirt outlined a
brilliant, solid-red tie held
with a jeweled clip. I
glanced at his feet and noticed his
impeccably polished shoes reflecting
the yacht light in my direction.
As he approached, each heel
announced its connection to the boat
deck with a distinct tap.
He wore a rather large ring on the
third finger of each hand.
Had I not known who he was and had I
seen him at the Beverly Hills Hotel,
or in some other establishment that
caters to the wealthy, I would
easily have imagined him to be a man
of means dressed to meet a prince or
His long, coal-black, neatly combed
hair stopped just above the collar
of his coat. His
clean-shaven face was quite
handsome, his features sharp and
distinct and its overall triangular
shape well-supported by a solid jaw.
His eyebrows were also solid black
and very distinct. And
his eyes — there was something very
unusual about his eyes.
Looking into them almost took my
breath away. They were
brilliant green with a yellowish
tinge, not really sinister, but
piercing as if they were knives
which could open me up and look all
the way to the very core of my
In the casual manner of a guest
visiting a friend, he slipped into
the chair directly opposite me.
As he sat down, I breathed a deep
sigh of relief. My mind
was still in turmoil, but
fortunately, my years as a
journalist came through.
I automatically launched directly
into the first question.
readers would like to know where you
stand on the abortion issue.
Why, against it, of
Now, wait a minute! That
doesn't seem to make any sense at
all. I’d think you’d be
in favor of abortion.
Of course, it doesn’t make any
sense. Do you think I’m
a fool? Deception is my
very stock in trade.
What do you mean?
No devil worth his salt
would ever come out as an evil one.
I regularly rise up among you
disguised as a promoter of what
seems like a good cause.
I set myself up in a power position
and then I gather a flock of
mindless, Would-Be Do-Gooders.
As the controller of a trusted and
"Revered Leader,” I easily
manipulate unthinking "true
believers" into doing my bidding.
Then, from my sacred place of power
and in the name of righteousness or
some other emotional hook, I easily
shower evil upon all mankind.
Please explain how this is related
into forcing the sick, the poor, and
the deprived to produce and be
burdened with even more unloved,
unwanted and, thus, emotionally and
physically unhealthy children.
Then every few years, I get my "War'shippers"
to choose up sides and send these
miserable, deprived, and angry
bastards out to kill each other in
the name of some great cause — in
the name of "This-or-That-God,”
in the name of "Glory,”
"Honor,” "The Flag," or
some other big, emotional hook.
I pay my "War'shippers" a lot of
money for this favor.
Money? Where does money
come into this?
You've probably noticed that among
those I've suckered into depriving
women control of their own bodies,
most are willing to take the money
required to feed and care for these
unwanted children and use it to
build bombs, tanks and guns.
As you may know, tandem
manipulations are a specialty of
mine. A case in point:
My "War Peddlers" and my
anti-abortionists tend to feather
and fly in the same flock.
My "War Peddlers" are my
highest-paid employees, you know.
I pay them even more than I pay my
At this point, the weird became even
weirder. I began to hear
a faint but noticeable buzz like one
might hear when near a high-voltage
electrical transformer, and my
nostrils caught the distinct smell
of smoke. Big D seemed
to almost levitate and to be in a
trance, like someone about to have
Do you remember my old poem:
". . .Grief and misery, pains and
woes, debts and taxes, and so it
goes. . ."? Well,
with my July 3rd Supreme Court
decision, I've just shoved religion
up your nose. And
“. . .released still another plague
of separation, fear and hate by the
unification of church and state. .
He began to shake and laugh — then
stopped. Big D leaned
toward me and looked intently at me
with his piercing eyes.
Instantly, I pulled back until the
chair prohibited further movement.
Sensing my fear, he looked away,
slid back in his seat, and spoke
Of course I oppose abortion rights.
What else would you expect from the
master of manipulation.
I get my agents to shove God down
your throats and you fools still
think you have separation of church
and state! I could get
my agents to shove religion up
somewhere else in your sacred
anatomy and you fools would still
think you have separation of church
Yes, Big “D,” the relationship
between church and state is the real
issue. I'd like to talk
The Devil didn't seem to hear me.
He began shaking. He
started glowing. He just
kept on talking.
And with my "Lawyers-for-God," I'm
dragging billions of dollars and
millions of productive-labor-hours
betwixt your buns. So,
with this latest Supreme Court
decision, DID I SCORE
BIG? or DID I
Besides, look at all that extra
trash those unwanted bodies will
create and load onto your Revered
At that point Big D became
incoherent. The shaking
increased. His voice
slurred. The only words I could make
out were: "...Mother Eeeee...
I'll bust that bitch yet.
Just you wait and see..." The
shaking increased, and suddenly Big
D disappeared in a huge ball of
smoke and fire.
And I awoke to find myself lying on
the grass in the local park, at
least a hundred yards from the
nearest Bodhi tree. I
have no idea how I got there.
I would have thought I had been
dreaming, but my hair was singed,
and my clothes smelled of smoke.
The following morning, I went back
to the harbor to be sure the yacht
owners had retrieved their boat.
To my great surprise, nobody seemed
to have any idea what I was talking
about. It was as if I
had never been there before.
In total confusion, I walked around
the harbor for about 30 minutes and
even went onto the yacht itself,
where I found the setting exactly as
I remembered it, right down to the
color of the cushions and the
placement of the deck chairs.
I could detect no odor of smoke,
only the smell of fresh, salty,
My muddled mind could make no sense
of this, so, in order to make this
confusion as clear as possible, I
went home and wrote the notes of
everything I could remember.
This was just too far out to be real
and, at the same time, too real to
be a fantasy.
Upon finishing my notes, I made two
decisions: first I would write the
brief overview of my experience that
you have just read.
Second, if I ever I meet this Big D
character again, I would be very
forceful and press him for clear,
straight answers. To my
surprise, a second encounter came
The Story Continues in Chapter Two
Interview with The Devil --
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