Chapter 335: "Pick Someone to Resurrect, Jonathon Winters."

Monday, April 16, 2007 (Continued)

"I've got a job for you too, Jonathon Winters." He was one of the cameramen. I'd picked him because I'd been able to find out his name and he seemed to have a positive, happy attitude.

"What? Me?" he asked in surprise. My not turning my body or head when I addressed him caused even more confusion.

"Yes. God just told me to provide humanity with more proof that I'm an archangel. He's unhappy with humanity's unwillingness to divert itself from its lemming-like, 'life as usual' behavior, as just ably demonstrated by the less-than-able Director Mueller. Humanity is heading for a series of calamities unless it pulls its head out of its self-absorbed ass, but almost none of you have seen daylight yet.

^-- "After reading all the documents I have as Majestic Countdown, I'd very much enjoy proving my power by getting Old Testament on Washington DC, but God prefers that I prove my divine nature by resurrecting someone. Make a list of several good candidates for me, Jonathon Winters, and I'll get it from you in a week."

"Ahh, I don't understand. Are you asking me to pick someone to bring back to life?"

"That's correct. In LA someone foolishly suggested Elvis. I'm sure your network has that clip on file. Listen to my reasons for rejecting Elvis, then make up some good criteria of your own. Off the top of my head, I'd suggest people who died less than five or ten years ago so they won't be out of touch when they're brought back. People who died unfairly would seem a good choice too, as I'm big on righting wrongs. You'll need to make up many more criteria of your own. Once you've got several good ones, use them to choose some candidates.

^-- "If ABC wishes, it might want to get involved by allowing public submissions for what criteria could be used, and no doubt people will be clamoring to suggest individual candidates too, although getting the criteria right first is the better process to use. ABC can display the evolving process as you work on it." OF COURSE the network would LOVE to get involved! Talk about a ratings hit! It'd also allow us to track whether Mark Anderson qualified.

^-- "It is YOUR project though, Jonathon. If any of your bosses tread on your toes, let me know and I'll shoot them in their feet too. I've found it to be an excellent way of adjusting attitudes. Similarly, listen to the public's opinions if you want ideas, but you're working for God on this, not the public. It's YOUR list I want.

^-- "I'm only half-joking about motivating your bosses. Millions of people have died in recent years so you've got a great deal of work ahead of you developing suitable criteria and then applying them. You'll need a considerable amount of help and I expect your network to provide it to you. I imagine your bosses are smarter than Director Mueller, so they should act on my wishes..."

Someone's cellphone started ringing. I demanded, "Turn it off," which he quickly did. So did all the other cameramen, to play safe. Shooting someone in the foot really is an excellent way to maximize people's helpfulness.

I resumed, "Jonathon, I'll email you in about ten days or so, to arrange a meeting where you and I will review your list of candidates. I want your list finalized by then, so you're going to be VERY busy until then. Do you understand?"

"I'm going to pick a DEAD person to bring back to LIFE?"

"That's half-correct. It wouldn't be nice of me to let you suffer the condemnation you'd receive from everyone who disagreed with your final pick, so I'll take responsibility for that. You'll make the shortlist and I'll get you to talk me through everyone on it, whereupon I'll choose the resurrectee. I imagine your list will contain approximately twenty names, but if you want more or less that's fine with me. If you've got a good set of criteria and thirty people qualify under them, then thirty will be fine. Quality is more important than quantity." I was intending to do some manipulation if Mark Anderson wasn't on the list. I imagined it'd be easy to steer Jonathon because he'll probably be blown away by the task and me. If he resisted, it was still going to be my choice so I could insist on Mark Anderson.

One of the other cameramen asked, "Will we be able to film the resurrection?"

Obviously there couldn't be any filming as it'd be rather difficult to get Archangel Michael, Ron Fisher and Mark Anderson in front of the camera at the same time. It'd be good PR for me to agree to the cameraman's request, and I'd cancel it later by using the excuse of Mark not having a body. For now I answered, "God wants me to provide proof of my divinity. Filming the resurrection would help with that, so 'Yes, it can be filmed.' Whether you're the people doing the filming might depend on where it's taking place. Or maybe you'll be busy with something else more newsworthy, such as Paris Hilton remembering to put her panties on."

All of them laughed, except for Jonathon Winters, who was too much in shock.

By now there were twenty animals who'd either walked into the clearing to sit around my feet, or who'd flown down to land on or around me. They were just sitting there, most of them looking at me with apparent devotion (actually with mindlessness, but it's often much the same thing, even in humans). The cameramen were starting to get weirded out by it. Only the amazing topic of my resurrecting someone had kept them from changing the subject to discuss the animals. Having come down from the rarified heights of resurrecting a dead person by mentioning Little Miss Hilton, one of them asked, "Why are there animals and birds all around you?"

Ignoring the redundant fact that birds are animals, I explained, "It happens whenever I stand still long enough in a natural environment. Natural creatures react to God's servants differently than self-aware, self-centered, thinking creatures do. Wholly natural creatures' souls resonate with mine, which draws them to me."

"Birds and animals have souls?" asked several of them, in surprise.

"Of course. That's what defines life. Humans are animals too you know. You evolved from little fellows like this." I crouched and extended my hand toward a squirrel, which seemed to happily run up it as I stood again. An act captured by most of the cameras, the others panning around the area, recording the Disneyesque scene. I continued, "Humanity is too egotistical. A few million years ago you were an animal species indistinguishable from many others. A million years from now you'll be totally different again. Presuming you don't destroy yourselves in the interim, in which case something else will have evolved to take your place. God's plan is flexible that way, and It's willing to wait many billions of years for something to work."

The cameramen spent a few seconds absorbing that.

One of them commented, "You've lived billions of years, and you've seen us evolve, yet you know about Paris Hilton."

"Yeah, my job isn't always awe inspiring. Your civilization is considerably less civilized than several which have come before it, which is something you need to think about because those earlier ones no longer exist."

After a pause, another cameraman asked, "When did God tell you to resurrect someone?"

"A couple of minutes ago, at the end of my useless discussion with Director Mueller. The easiest way to explain it is to say that God is connected to all of It's angels at all times, so It knows everything we're doing, what we're seeing, etc. In reality, we're more 'of God', than separate entities connected to It.

^-- "I should move things along, so Jonathon, I'm sure questions will occur to you later. Post them on your network's website addressed to me, and I'll email you the answers. We'll agree on a code phrase soon, so you'll know the emails are from me.

^-- "That concludes our business for today; short as it was because Director Mueller had more important things to do than react intelligently to the most important event in Earth's last 2,000 years. Pack up your gear and I'll fly you back to town."

One of the cameramen who'd received a cellphone call back when we'd been flying here, said, "Wait a second please. My reporter wants me to ask you a question. She wants..."

I interrupted, "Are you about to ask a question that I would welcome, or are you going to waste my time for someone else's benefit?"

"Ahh, on second thought, it doesn't matter."

"Good decision. Director Mueller, here's your gun back." I pulled his arms away from his body, put the safety on, and flew it back into his holster; adding, "I suggest you leave it there until I'm out of sight. Here's your phone back too. You're not in my good graces so I'm not going to be your taxi back to town. The FBI seems to have choppers to spare so I'm sure you'll be able to call for a ride. You can productively spend your waiting time reassigning the many agents around the country who seem to have nothing better to do than ride around in helicopters pointing guns at me. Put them onto getting my leaked documents acted on with the degree of urgency I require. I've also got some expenses coming up and I seem to have left my wallet in my other suit. I'm sure you won't mind if I take yours to do God's work with." I extracted his wallet, sending it to sit on top of the white sheet I had floating to one side of me.

^-- "Jonathon, the FBI would like you to have this spare rifle as a souvenir. Sell it, keep it, whatever you like. I'm sure Director Mueller will fast-track the paperwork for it, and if you want instruction in its use, I'm sure the FBI will be only too willing to provide it free of charge. Correct, Director Mueller?"

"Yes sir," he agreed immediately.

"Good boy." I enjoyed talking to an important 62-year old man that way. "It's time to go." I gently brushed the animals sitting on me off. The wildlife remembered it was meant to be wild, and scattered.

I picked up everyone except Mueller, putting them on a mass sled. We flew up at forty five degrees toward town. I kept a sight blob focused on Mueller, not that they need focusing, in case he was stupid enough to go for his gun. He watched us passively, not being THAT stupid. Actually, I was sure he wasn't stupid at all. His problem was ego and not realizing how fawningly I wanted him to treat me; neither fault motivating him into drawing his gun as we flew away.

A minute after we cleared the top of the hills, I saw two fighters in tight formation came zooming down toward us. The cameramen were carrying a lot of metal, so we'd probably shown up on radar, or maybe the Air Force had gotten our location from the calls the cameramen had taken during our flight. The reason didn't matter, especially because the annoyance wasn't going to last long. The fighters were acting aggressively, and I knew they were REALLY expensive and the ground under us was uninhabited, which made my idea irresistible.

I moved a sight blob into each cockpit as soon as each plane came into range. The sight blobs had no difficulty keeping up with the planes as I searched around the cockpit (literally "no difficulty". My frame of reference for the sight blobs was "inside the cockpit", and the sight blobs automatically moved around inside their cockpits just as if the planes were stationary. My subconscious processes are very helpful that way). I easily found the clearly labeled ejection lever, a big yellow, triple-pronged handle between and below the pilot's legs [[the fighters were Air National Guard F-16Cs]].

I formed NP-fingers around the rubber handle, waiting for the planes to pass us. Proximity clearly showed that the cameramen were filming the planes, so there was no need to ask them to do so.

As soon as the trailing aircraft had SCREAMED past us - at a distance that was FAR too close for our comfort - I pulled both planes' ejection handles. I zipped the nearest sight blob back to get a look. The canopies were both flying up into the air and being blown behind each plane. The trailing plane wasn't flying directly in the leader's exhaust, so there was no danger of the first canopy hitting the second pilot when he ejected. The cameramen had barely begun to react when the rockets went off under the pilots' seats, blasting them clear of their planes, whether or not they wanted to be so blasted.

While both planes were still in my range, I moved the errant sight blob back into the cockpit, grasped both planes' joysticks and pushed them forward identically. The planes curved downward, toward the forested ground only two hundred feet below.

I left my NP-fingertips holding the sticks forward while I pulled my sight blobs back (it sure wasn't going to take thirty two seconds for the fighters to impact). Both sight blobs zoomed ahead to check that the impact area was clear.

The cameramen were having a great time, excitedly calling out comments to each other, trying to narrate into their mics, etc.

I searched in extremely rapidly widening circles around the likely impact area, happily finding nobody. I kept searching until I heard the loud explosion of the first plane's impacting, added to a moment later by the second's. I pulled the sight blobs back a hundred feet to find the exact impact locations, then zoomed around each of them to make sure there was no one I'd missed. Nope, all was clear.

From pulling the ejection handles through to finishing the search afterward, had taken less than four seconds. The pilots, sitting in their seats, were still flying upward from the impetus their ejection rockets had given them. I said to the cameramen, "We'll postpone your return to town for a conversation with the pilots." None of the cameramen objected.

I started us rising. The crashes were several hundred feet away, but I was happy to get even farther away from any cooking-off ammunition.

I caught the pilots' seats as they reached their highest points, holding them at that altitude and bringing them toward each other as the cameramen and I rose toward the central meeting point. The ejection seats fired their parachutes, but I just used more NP-fingers to bundle them up and hold them against the back of the seats; something I imagined worried the pilots considerably.

On the way up to the pilots, one of the cameramen asked me, "Did you do that, sir?"

"Yes. I'd requested that helicopters should stay more than a mile away from me or they'd be downed. A sensible person would've known that two fully-armed fighters screaming past me in an aggressive and annoying attempt at intimidation wasn't going to be tolerated. I'm amazed at how long it's taking your Government to learn that disrespect is not a good idea. Your leaders are very full of themselves, aren't they?"

The cameramen were agreeing with that as we neared the pilots. I'd moved their seats side by side, and they were talking together. Proximity showed me that the pilot for the rear fighter was uninjured, but the lead pilot was bashed around a fair bit. Nothing life-threatening, but he certainly hadn't had a clean ejection.

The uninjured pilot accused, "You did that!"

"Sure. Didn't your mother teach you not to be rude? We were flying along peacefully doing God's business when you obnoxiously intruded into my airspace..."

As I'd baited him to, he reacted by proclaiming, "This is AMERICAN airspace. We can fly wherever we want!"

"God has a different opinion. You might've heard, 'In the beginning God created the Heaven and the Earth.' It's claim predates America's by several billion years and is considerably stronger because It MADE the airspace. I can't imagine how you can be so arrogant as to claim you have dominion over God. I've heard enough of your nonsense, so shut up now." I clamped his jaw shut, turned his chair around, and sent it twenty feet away.

To the other pilot I said, "You've got a broken right tibia and cracked ankle, your neck's been badly strained and is going to need some work, and your left upper-arm has some muscle damage. Plus some contusions and mild strains. Nothing life-threatening, and you should be flying again in several weeks.

^-- "There's more fat lining your major blood vessels than there should be for someone your age and occupation. You don't want restricted blood flow or a clot during high-g maneuvers so you should reconsider your diet." (I'd learned that from the reading I'd done for my own flying.) "I also suggest you see a dentist about a sizable cavity you've got forming in your lower left jaw. Judging by the amount of work done on your teeth, you're eating too much processed sugar too. Other than your dietary problems and recent injuries, you're healthy.

^-- "That leaves your major problem being your lack of wisdom. Goodness only knows why you thought it was a good idea to come screaming past me like that. I suggest you spread the word among your fellow pilots that a nice, respectful, two-mile distance would be much safer for them. If you want a close look at me, carry a pair of binoculars. It'll cost the American Government a lot less than replacing your annoyingly loud toys.

^-- "Do you want me to set you on the ground here, or would you prefer being delivered to a hospital in town?"

Through gritted teeth, against the pain from his right leg and neck, he said, "Here please."

I knew pilots had emergency locator beacons in their ejection seats, or maybe in their flight suits. I wasn't sure exactly where, but I knew there was probably a chopper already on its way to pick them up. Presumably he'd answered the way he had because he wanted to be away from me as soon as possible, which was fine with me. I lowered him and his partner to the ground, taking a few extra seconds in his case, to be gentle on his injuries. [[At the time of his ejection, the lead pilot had been turned in his chair to look back over his left shoulder at me. F-16s have seatbacks that recline at thirty degrees, making looking behind an awkward body maneuver, so it had been a bad time for him to be ejected.]]

The cameramen and I sped back to town, with them getting me to prove I could see the health of human bodies by telling them about their own. There are plenty of things I can't see about human bodies, so I manipulated the conversation to hide that fact. Fortunately being a cameraman doesn't seem to be a healthy lifestyle, so there was plenty I could talk about to kill time. Including explaining to them why I wasn't going to be healing all their ills. I gave them some crap about freewill, and not opening cans of worms that billions of people would want in on.

I was headed for a location several miles east of the convention center I'd picked the cameramen up from. One of them queried where we were going.

I answered, "I don't want to play more gun games with the FBI. I imagine you're also not eager to head back to an area where bullets could start flying, so I'm dropping you off a safe distance away.

^-- "Jonathon, I'll need you to give me a code you want me to put on my emails to you, so you'll know they're from me. Make up an unlikely phrase please?"

He answered, "Okay. Do you know my email address? It's..."

I cut him off by quoting the address I'd seen on the business cards in his pocket.

"That's right! How did you know?"

"One of the little birdies that sat on my shoulder told me."

"Really?"

"Nah. I'm jerking your chain. I find some of your expressions amusing and can't resist making a joke out of them. I know your email address because angels have ways of knowing things that humans can't duplicate. I'll float you over now so you can whisper your code to me."

When he was close enough, he whispered, "The cat sat in the hat."

"Got it." I floated him back to his pack. Not that it mattered much, but I'd wanted all the cameramen to see Jonathon whispering to me, rather than me to him, to make it look more like Jonathon was independent of me, because that might reduce the risk of someone later claiming that I'd told Jonathon to put Mark Anderson on the list.

On his way back, Jonathon said, "The job you've asked me to do is too large for me. It'd take me MONTHS to do it and I'd never live it down afterward."

"I agree it's too large for you to do it yourself, but you're the boss not the sole worker. If ABC doesn't give you enough resources, call up George W. Bush and tell him you want a thousand secretaries and researchers. He can strip them out of the armed forces and bureaucracies all over the country and send them to you overnight. It's also going to take computer programmers to match your criteria against everyone who has died in whatever period you decide on, and other specialists too, depending on what aspects are important to you.

^-- "George, when you listen to this, call my helper Jonathon here and put yourself at his disposal. I'm sure there's nothing else more important for you to do than smoothing the way for one of God's specific instructions.

^-- "Don't sweat the small stuff, Jonathon. Your job is to have the final word on the criteria, to make sure the work is being done quickly and well enough, to decide on the shortlist of candidates, and to present their biographies to me a couple of weeks from now. You've got an accurate gun now, so if anyone doesn't give you the cooperation you need, shoot them in a foot. You're doing God's work. That's not some self-deluded Catholic priest spouting some bizarre nonsense like 'God is against condoms.' You ARE doing God's work. You were with me when I got the instruction straight from the horse's mouth so don't let human laws stand in your way. You've heard of 'Presidential Pardons', well now you've got as many 'Angelic Get Out Of Jail Free Cards' as you need to get the job done. If you're having trouble getting cooperation from anyone - and I mean ANYONE - put a comment about your problem on ABC's website, and if they don't straighten up immediately, I'll fix their attitude. It's not often God gives me a specific instruction like this, and when It does, I move Heaven and Earth to get the job done. Ten days is ample time for the resources you're able to command.

^-- "You're right about not living it down afterward though. It will change your life. That's a consequence of hanging around with angels; unusual things can happen to you. A very self-important man got shot in the foot and dumped in a forest. While you, who Director Mueller doubtless considers far less important than himself, have the major role in choosing only the second human being to be resurrected in the hundred thousand year history of your species. You may recall that Jesus valued people in unusual ways too. Angels don't judge people in the same way your society does.

^-- "If you think your life is going to change, imagine how much more the life of the resurrected person is going to change! Which reminds me, one of your criteria for the people that you put on your list is that they have at least a moderate ability to defend themselves emotionally from the pressures that being resurrected will bring. For examples, very young, infirm, or previously vain persons would not be good choices. You don't have to worry about physical defense, as God will provide physical protection for the resurrected person."

Jonathon asked incredulously, "The President has to do what I say?"

"If you said you needed the Swedish Bikini-Babe Beach Volleyball Team flown to you, then I wouldn't give George a hard time if he refused to put Air Force One at your disposal. You could give it a try, and if you got away with it, then kudos to you, but that's not something the President would be required to do for you. But if some bureaucrat is blocking your staff's access to a database of death certificates, and if George hasn't removed the obstruction within fifteen minutes after you've called him to explain the problem, then I wouldn't want to be in either of those politicians' shoes. Same thing if George doesn't take one of your calls or if he tries to claim one of your country's laws prevents you from getting what you want. Working on God's direct instruction supersedes every one of your laws. From what I've been reading as Majestic Countdown, most of the senior politicians in your country spend most of their time plotting to break your nation's laws anyway. My comments apply at the State level too. If a Governor is being unhelpful, call George and tell him to send one of his goons to shoot the Governor in the foot. And if that doesn't motivate the Governor enough, get him shot in the head and see if his replacement is any more cooperative. You've only got ten days so don't stand for ANY time wasting. It'd be disrespectful to God, and you don't want to permit any disrespect to an entity that can erase your solar system far easier than I can disable helicopters. You got the idea, Jonathon?"

"It's UNBELIEVABLE! Why ME? I'm just a cameraman, not anyone special."

"Were Joseph and Mary 'special' when they were chosen? Being special is overvalued, especially by the people who think they're special. Don't denigrate being a cameraman either. Your work is continuously and openly judged. If you do a good job, people can see it. If you do a bad job, they can see that too. Director Mueller risked the lives of several of his agents by deliberately distorting my instruction not to bring guns on helicopters within a mile of me. If the pilot had not carried out his emergency landing so well, deaths could have resulted. The FBI's helicopter was damaged to reinforce that I mean my instructions. I should never have had to do that, but I needed to because Mueller insisted on considering himself more important than one of God's archangels. The cost of recovering and repairing that helicopter should come out of his pocket, but it won't because he'll refuse to take responsibility for its getting damaged.

^-- "One of the reasons I gave you the job of producing the list of candidates is because I want someone who will do a job because a job needs doing; not someone who thinks that his ego is more important than the job. You work in a profession where you're used to dealing with egos. In the job I've given you, it'll be important that you manage the egotists that'll try to grab at the glory of the task. Some of them you'll need to get work from, others you'll be able to blow off immediately. You've only got a week and a half, so you don't have time for people who play games with you. You should be experienced enough at recognizing bullshit quickly, and knowing how to deal with it. In a couple of weeks it's just going to be you and me sitting down somewhere and going through the shortlist's biographies together. I'm not going to allow anyone else there, no matter how big their ego is. Your knowing that is going to keep it real for you, just like when you hand over a tape. The final result of your work will be judged for what it is, with everything else left outside the door.

^-- "I also expect you're not the sort of person who'd agree to wear a wire or play any of those types of Government games. I'm sure your job experiences around this town have left you with no illusions about how wise and benevolent anyone working for the Government is. This is God's business, not your Government's, and you've got the experience to appreciate that.

^-- "There are other reasons," although I couldn't think of any, other than my knowing his name, "but that should be enough to counter your, 'I'm just a cameraman' concern. In this town, there aren't many professions more suitable to draw from than yours..."

#13: <The cameramen are eating that crap up. I think we're guaranteed to have our best side photographed from now on, haha.>

I ended with, "That's a good place to end it. I'll drop you here and leave you to file your stories."

"WAIT!" begged my unaware smoke-and-mirrors guy. "I've got more questions: Do you want Americans or do I have to search the entire world? Do they have to be Christian? Do they have to be as sinless as possible, like not having a criminal record? What about..."

"Jonathon, I could resurrect a dead squirrel on live TV and achieve most of what God wants, so don't get so worked up. God wants me to resurrect a human, but It doesn't much care who that is. It's my being seen to perform the action itself that matters the most to God, so I could pick a dead person at random. Your job boils down to my giving you the opportunity to find someone more deserving of resurrection than a random choice would likely be. There's no way of anyone doing a perfect job in ten days. Not even in ten years, as it's very much a matter of personal judgment. Do the best you can, and that'll be fine. You can answer your own questions easily, but I'll get you started to illustrate how you should think about them:

^-- "'America or the whole world?' There's no reason to believe that the most deserving Americans are any more or less deserving than people from other countries, so if you chose to restrict yourself to America, the quality of your shortlist won't suffer appreciably. An American serves God's stated purpose just as well, and it's America which is currently causing the greatest harm to humanity, so I'd prefer the resurrected person be an 'in your face' reminder of my visit. Plus you've only got ten days and there's no way you can comb the world in that time, and if you tried you'd only start jingoistic arguments. In your shoes, I'd choose American citizens who died in America. It meets God's requirements and it's quickest. You'll easily find plenty of very deserving people for your shortlist.