Condemned to Repeat It

by Mike Combs

Camera starts out on a tight shot of a crystal amulet, then pulls back to reveal a man in overalls waving it over a well-used-looking computer. A woman nearby looks on with concern. We are in a courtroom which is as yet sparsely populated.

The technician in overalls seems to give up on obtaining the results desired.

Tech: Sorry. I’m afraid your stenography computer is dead for good.

Stenographer: Well, you know, I wasn’t terribly surprised when the Therapeutic Touch Therapy didn’t bring a response. Computers have never struck me as the type to respond to aura manipulation. But I had really held out hopes for the crystal healing to help. Didn’t I read somewhere that something like a quartz crystal is the heart and guts of these ancient machines? Surely you’d think there would be some kind of simpatico. But nothing.

While this dialog goes on, the technician dumps the computer onto his wheeled trolley, and sets up an ancient-looking manual stenograph machine, blowing the dust off.

Stenographer: That relic looks like it’s been in storage for the last fifty years. (Gets no response, becomes annoyed) Can’t you fix my machine the same way people fixed computers when they used to build them?

Tech: No one has the knowledge to fix these old computerized systems like that anymore.

Stenographer: Didn’t they publish repair manuals at they same time they built these machines? Surely at least a few of those manuals are still around.

Tech: Oh, they are. But understanding them requires a very linear, reductionist mode of thinking. A mind-set far removed from our more modern, holistic means of understanding the universe.

The Stenographer sits down at her tiny little desk, looking disapprovingly at the dusty machine in front of her. There is a nameplate on her desk which reads “Psychic-Stenographer”.

People are starting to file into the courtroom now. A suited man sits down at a desk behind a name-plate which reads “RV-Prosecutor”. More roughly than what is probably required, the Bailiff pushes a shackled defendant into the courtroom. The gallery begins to fill. Lastly, the Judge strides in behind the bench, black robes billowing out behind him. The judge always seems to be in a hurry. The nameplate on the Judge’s bench reads “Channeler-Judge”. He raps an enormous brass gavel.

RV-P: (Ingratiatingly) Your honor, is that a new gavel I see there?

Judge: (Holding it up proudly) Oh, why yes! This one’s made of pure brass. You know how the wooden ones are always breaking on me. (Becomes businesslike) May we have the reading from the Court-Astrologer, please?

A women sitting behind a name-plate reading “Court-Astrologer” glances over her charts once more, and then stands to address the courtroom.

Astrologer: Venus is rising in Gemini, so there is probably an excellent chance of justice being well-served today. Jupiter influences may lead to a tendency towards leniency.

Judge: Thank you.

Astrologer: However, where personal-life decisions are concerned, sexual tensions could lead to quick...

Judge: (Irritably) Yes, thank you. May we get on with this? Remote Viewer-Prosecutor, what are the charges, please?

RV-P: (Rising, and reading from his papers) Jonathan Randall, you are hereby charged that on the night of April 10th, of the year 2053 New Age, you did willingly and knowingly participate in an abduction of and experimentation upon a certain Sarah Hamilton carried out by the Greys. You therefore stand accused of Conspiring with Greys.

Jonathan: (Coming to his feet) It’s a lie!

Judge: (Scoldingly) Sit down! Oh, before we get any further; Bailiff, would you please accompany the bounty hunter to the clerk so he can get his payment, and be back to his duties while we sort this all out?

Bounty Hunter: (Rising) Thank you, your Honor.

With an eccentric flourish of his cape, he departs with the bailiff.

Judge: RV-Prosecutor, call your first witness.

RV-P: Call Roger Hamilton to the stand.

The witness swears in. The camera should get close enough for it to be seen that the witness is swearing in on Shirley McClaine’s “Out On a Limb”. The witness sits in the witness stand.

Judge: Where’s the Court-Hypnotist? Let’s get this witness in a trance as soon as possible, so that we can get to the truth of this matter.

Hypnotist: Here, your honor.

The Court-Hypnotist is a small, slender man who doesn’t seem to match his deep, baritone voice. He is New-England accented. The Court-Hypnotist waves a crystal amulet before the witness, murmuring softly, and soon the desired surrender of will is achieved. The RV-Prosecutor steps over.

RV-P: Now Mr. Hamilton, if you would please, just tell us your story in your own words.

Hamilton: (Softly) Well, Sarah and I both have been getting abducted by the Greys something fierce for the last five years or so. At least one night a month they paralyze us, fly in though the walls, and take one or the other. Little guys with large heads, and enormous, black, almond-shaped eyes.

RV-P: I would like to bring it to the court’s attention that this description is consistent with all other descriptions.

Judge: Duly noted. Proceed.

Hamilton: Well, anyway, sometimes there are government men with them. One night last month I noticed one of them was my neighbor, Jonathan.

RV-P: Is that gentleman in the courtroom right now?

Despite the fact that the eyewitness’ eyes seem closed, he points directly at the accused. Perhaps he is only squinting.

RV-P: Let the record show...

Judge: Yes, yes, yes. Get on with it.

RV-P: (Turning back to the witness) What happened next that night?

Hamilton: Ummm, they took us both that night. They levitated us out through the window...

Jonathan: Wait a minute! Your windows don’t open.

RV-P: Irrelevant. This court has already demonstrated that the Greys can pass though walls. Passing any human through a closed window could scarcely be beyond their abilities

Judge: Sustained.

Jonathan grips his head, and goes down to his elbows on the tabletop.

Hamilton: That night they did the usual sperm and egg removals. But they also used three needles to put holes in my head.

RV-P: I would like to draw the court’s attention to the fact that there are three, evenly-spaced welts on Mr. Hamilton’s upper forehead.

Jonathan: FOR GOD’S SAKE! THEY’RE ZITS!!

Judge: (Admonishing) Mr. Randall, we would like to remind you that assistance from the accused is not desired.

Hamilton: They must have done something to Sarah’s appendix that night. The next morning it had burst. She was so sick. We tried everything: Homeopathy, Aromatherapy, Acupuncture. Towards the end, I pulled our life savings, and had a Qi Gong specialist flown in from Beijing to adjust her meridian energies. But nothing anyone could do could save her. She died two weeks ago

The witness is awakened and dismissed. The Prosecutor walks over to the bench.

RV-P: Your Honor, in addition to this testimony-evidence, I also have here sworn affidavits that crop circles appeared on the west side after the night in question. (Hands paperwork up to the Judge)

Judge: (Taking paperwork) Excellent. Hard, corroborating evidence is always helpful in cases like this. (Turns to Jonathan) Mr. Randall, Conspiring with Greys is a serious accusation. How do you plead?

Jonathan: Not guilty. Roger’s just pissed off at me because my dog won’t stay off of his yard. He’s making up this whole thing about me being involved in any alien abductions.

Judge: That will be for the court to decide. Bring in the Court-Aura Reader!

The Aura Reader is a woman in her thirties. She walks around Jonathan, gazing at him fixedly.

Reader: There is a definite violet color to his aura. This is classically associated with Extra-Terrestrials, or humans who were Extra-Terrestrials in past lives. It could be that, or it could be from long, close association with spacemen. It is possible that he is himself a Grey; many who live among us in human form have revealed themselves. In fact... (Holds her crystal pendant up in front of one eye, squinting through it at him) On other planes...his eyes do seem to sort of wrap around his head.

RV-P: In light of this new evidence, I would like to amend the charges to Conspiring with Greys, Possibly a Grey Himself.

Judge: Very well.

Jonathan: (To the Aura Reader) Can I ask you a question about these auras you see?

Judge: Defendant, you are not the one here to ask questions.

Reader: It’s all right your Honor. I am always happy to educate anyone on the nature of the universe around us. (Turns to Jonathan, smiling primly). Ask away.

Jonathan: These auras of yours, do you see them by reflected light, just like all other objects?

Reader: Well, first off, it’s not my aura, it’s your aura. But the answer to your question is “no”. Aura perception has nothing to do with external light. It is your own internal luminescence, seen not with the retinas, but with the soul.

Jonathan: (Pointedly) In that case, I suppose you can see everyone’s aura even in the dark, right?

The Court-Aura Reader’s eyes shift off to one side. One gets the impression her thoughts have never been down this particular path before.

Reader: Errr... well, yes.

Jonathan: Fine. Then turn out all the lights. I’ll try to get away. If you can still see me, you can catch me, and we’ll all know you’re legit.

There is a bit of consternation in the gallery. The judge bangs his gavel.

Judge: Mr. Randall, this is little more than a rather transparent attempt to escape from the clutches... I’m sorry... from the hands of the Law!

RV-P: Quite true, your Honor. In addition, I would like to object on the grounds of Scientific Methodology. (Now realizes the Judge is not listening to him) Your Honor? Sir?

The Channeler-Judge’s eyes are closed, and he is muttering to himself. First one eye, then the other opens.

Judge: Sorry, just repeating my mantra. Sometimes I have to stop and re-center myself when dealing with thoroughly difficult people! (Glares at the defendant)

RV-P: Scientific Methodology.

Judge: Oh, yes, yes. Sustained.

Jonathan clenches his fists.

Judge: Call in the court-diviner.

An elderly man enters, carrying a satchel. He begins to pull out two wires bent into “L” shapes, then stops.

Diviner: (Apologetically) Sorry. Wrong ones. These are the golf-ball finders, not the truth diviners.

Judge: Could we move this along as quickly as possible?

The Court-Diviner has now pulled a second pair of wires out of his case which are indistinguishable from the first. He walks around the defendant’s chair, holding the rods out. Like the needle of a compass, they unfailingly swerve toward Jonathan.

Diviner: Very definite signs of deception from the accused. Most certainly he is not telling us all the truth. Unless... (Stops circling) You don’t happen to have gold fillings do you?

Jonathan: Yes, as a matter of fact.

Diviner: Hmmmm. Well, still, I would say very definite indicators of gross deception.

Jonathan: I think you’re full of stuff.

Diviner: (Confidently) You might be saying that, (Puts his bent wires away) but you’re not thinking that.

Judge: Stenographer, read back the defendant’s last thoughts.

Stenographer: (Raising the tape, and reading from it) “Damn, the human’s divining instruments see through my disguise.”

Jonathan: (Bolting up) I never said that!

Judge: Mr. Randall, must we remind you that the Psychic-Stenographer’s function is not to take down your words, but your innermost thoughts as you think them?

Jonathan: Well, how do we know she’s a real psychic? Not everyone is. How do we know she’s not just telling us she is? What are her qualifications?

Stenographer: (Shooting Jonathan a withering stare) I have been featured in eighteen magazine and newspaper articles, and on three different television specials in the last ten years alone.

Judge: I’m perfectly satisfied with the Psychic-Stenographer’s credentials. Now please be seated!

Jonathan: Well, what about the Diviner’s credentials? Hey, let’s do this: Let’s put a black hood over his head, and then spin him around twenty times. Then everyone in the court stand around him in circle. If he can...

RV-P: Objection. Scientific Methodology.

Now the Channeler-Judge appears to be addressing his mantra directly to his large, brass gavel. At any rate, he is staring intently at the handle, stroking it steadily with one finger, and silently mouthing the same one-syllable word again and again. (It need not be audible, but, for the actor: The word is “bend”.) When he belatedly realizes another objection has been made, he quickly stops to sustain it.

Judge: Sustained! Defendant, your suggestions invariably remind the bench of the kind of deterministic, objective, mono-reality thinking that was banned with the dawning of the new millennium. (Sternly) Now sit down!

Jonathan collapses down into his seat.

Judge: This is a merciful court; therefore, we would like to give you one last chance for leniency. This court is willing to give you the benefit of a doubt that you only conspire with Greys, and are not actually a Grey yourself. If so, then you are no doubt part of the massive government conspiracy to keep the truth from the public. If you will confess this to the court, and hand over all classified documents and records in your possession concerning the truth about UFOs, we are prepared to go easy on you.

Jonathan: (Spreading hands) I have no information to give you.

RV-P: I would like to add Complicity in the Great Conspiracy to the charges at this time, your Honor.

Judge: Done!

Jonathan buries his head in his arms, manacles clinking.

Suddenly, there seems to be some kind of commotion out in the hallway. A loud argument is penetrating the doors. Then, after a brief silence, the doors fly open. A woman in her twenties strides into the courtroom. Before the great doors swung shut, the Bailiff can be briefly seen, knees pointed together, arms crossed over his middle, with a peculiar, strained expression on his face.

Jonathan: Ruth!

Judge: What’s the meaning of this interruption? Who is this intruder?

Ruth: Your honor, I am Ruth Randall, Jonathan’s wife. I would have been here from the beginning, but these goons have been barring me from these proceedings. But you must hear my testimony! Jonathan could not possibly have been out hurting anybody or out doing anything that night. He spent the entire night in our bed. I know he never left, because I slept very poorly that night. At the same time Mr. Hamilton insists he was being man-handled by my husband and taken to a space ship, Jonathan lay sleeping in my arms!

RV-P: (Coolly) Inadmissible.

Ruth: (Gaping at him incredulously) What do you mean, “inadmissible”?

RV-P: Mrs. Randall, there are any of several explanations for why you might think Mr. Randall was with you that night. It often happens that a Grey will take on human form, and substitute himself for a man while he is away. Laying with Greys is a very serious charge, and I don’t think you want to prompt an investigation on that score. Another possible explanation is that your husband astrally projected himself while his body remained behind. (Addressing the courtroom now) The most recent thinking on the abduction phenomenon characterizes it as more of a psychical occurrence than a physical one. It may be less a case of corporeal beings from other planets arriving in metal spaceships as spiritual beings from another dimension intruding upon our own. The characterization of the Greys as ‘spacemen’ may indeed be little more than a holdover from the kind of scientific superstition common before the dawning of the New Age.

Ruth: What’s the matter with all you people? Are you all insane? Are you all blind?

Judge: Mrs. Randall, have you noticed our statue of Lady Justice we have here? Have you noticed that she wears a blind fold?

Ruth: Yes.

Judge: Have you ever wondered why that is so?

Ruth: (Sullenly) No.

Judge: She is blindfolded to remind us always that what is seen can be false, whereas what is believed in our hearts is known to be true.

Ruth: What about the scales?

Judge: (Disappointed) Well, I can see you missed my point. Now please be seated.

Ruth sits down. Jonathan looks at her with an expression not yet entirely devoid of hope.

For the following dialog, the camera should have the Judge’s name-plate in the frame, to remind the audience that the Judge’s title is “Channeler-Judge”.

Judge: Now, if there can be no more interruptions, I should like to pass judgment at this time. For a case of this seriousness, I can turn to none less than Sarius, Atlantean High-Priestess of the Mystical Order of Frod.

The lights in the courtroom suddenly dim, except for a soft spotlight on the Judge’s bench. The Judge’s eyes close, and his head slowly rolls from side to side. The entire court leans forward attentively.

The Judge’s mouth opens, and one silky, falsetto word comes out.

Judge: Guilty.

The lights come back up. The Channeler-Judge jerks with a start, and opens his eyes. The court buzzes. Jonathan is staring off into the distance, not seeing anything.

Judge: (Uncertainly) What was the verdict?

RV-P: Guilty, your Honor.

Judge: I see. Now all that remains is the sentencing. (Turning to the defendant) Mr. Jonathan Randall, this court has found you guilty of the charges brought against you. You are hereby sentenced to being taken to the nearest mall parking lot, being tied to a stake, having firewood heaped about you, and having a fire lit and built up until such point as you spontaneously combust. I would additionally like to issue a restraining order against your guardian angel to prevent him or her from interfering in the carrying out of this sentence.

Jonathan: (Screaming) NOOOO!

Jonathan leaps up, and begins to bolt from the courtroom. Several members of the gallery grab and restrain him until the Bailiff, now evidently recovered, is able to get Jonathan into a headlock. Ruth batters the Bailiff, and has to be restrained herself.

Judge: (Shrieking) ORDER, ORDER, ORDER!!!

The Judge is on his feet now, and begins pounding his mighty brass gavel like an out-of-control pile driver. The RV-Prosecutor, who had recently moved to stand next to the bench, now discreetly backs away, looking certain that any second the gavel is going to splinter its plate into a hundred flying fragments.

Jonathan continues to struggle in the grip of the Bailiff.

Bailiff: Settle down. Settle down! Don’t make me use my Ninja skills on you, now!

Judge: And now, if we could please have the services of the Court-Aura Reader to work over my aura, to pull out any negative karma lest it trouble some future life.

Ruth twists away from the mob, and staggers over to the Judge’s bench to plead for mercy. She can’t get the judge’s attention because his eyes are closed, and he is humming to himself. Behind him, the Court-Aura Reader continues to work, making little plucking motions all around the air surrounding the Judge’s head and shoulders. Her head moves back and forth, and she sometimes blinks, jerking back a little, giving the impression that the judge’s bad karma occasionally splashes up into her face like the water from a lawn sprinkler.

When she is finally finished, the Judge’s eyes snap back open. Then he holds up his brass gavel, and smiles. We can see the handle of the gavel is slightly bent.

Judge: (With delight) Hey, look here! Looks like all those Psychokinesis seminars are finally beginning to pay off. And speaking of seminars, (Glances at watch) I have one to give myself in less than two hours. Remote Viewer-Prosecutor, is there anything else on the docket today, anything important?

RV-P: (Scanning some paperwork quickly) Nothing of any great consequence, your Honor.

Judge: Fine. (Bangs gavel) Then I declare this court of the Municipality of Salem, Massachusetts to be adjourned!

Cut to black.

Voice-over: Anyone who thinks the claims made against any character in this drama are too insane to be stated by any real person should study the history of the Inquisition.

Anyone who thinks the human race is less cruel now than in the Middle Ages should turn on the Six O’clock News.

Anyone who thinks the kind of superstitions which darkened the Middle Ages are dead and gone forever should attend a New Age seminar.

The End

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