-The Secrets of the Universe

I, Wesley Brian Jamison, take pen in hand to right a terrible wrong that has been done me. Well, many, actually. You (the audience) have been lead to believe that I am an overbearing, overweight, possessive, obsessive, dumb, egomaniac. Many of these misconceptions are due to the people I have to put up with. To address each issue in turn:

I am not overbearing. Actually I am rather laid back. It is true I have a few issues that I stand firm on, but so does everyone, when you think about it. The impression of being overbearing is the result of having to constantly defend myself against the philistines I live with at college.

I may have a few extra pounds on my paunch, to this I will readily admit. The important thing is that I am satisfied with my self-image. I have enjoyed growing up in the south where the cooking is always good, and also abundant. I have no regrets.

Possessive, they say? Hah! If they owned everything in the room, and were constantly being taken advantage of, they would be a bit possessive as well. Actually, I suffer silently through more than any one person should have to.

I am not obsessive. As previously stated, I have a few issues I stand firm on. I am prepared to defend my beliefs, and if I am sufficiently convinced that I am wrong, I will alter my ideals accordingly. The fact is, the guys I live with couldn’t argue their way out of a paper bag.

The impression that I am dumb is just plain wrong. I am actually rather brilliant and creative. In fact, this story is warped to exaggerate all of my weaker points! I never stoop to argue with Girdwood in such a childish manner, and I certainly don’t let that miscreant WIN!

The thought that I am an egomaniac is pure bunk! Why the world has never seen the likes of me in the area of meekness! The earth is practically in my pocket, I’m so meek… Ahem… but I diverge.

My tale? It is simple. I made contact with the Matson, rejoined him, and commenced a search for the poor excuses for college students it is my misfortune to room with (by the way, I by no means worship Matson, I merely respect the man… or alien, as it turns out).

In stead of regaling you with some story of our search (which was actually rather dull), it is my intention to re-tell this story from MY point of view. You have been done an injustice. The prejudice narrators of this tale have maligned me, and made themselves appear to be the heroes. It is now my turn to set things straight. So we begin:

The whole incident occurred on a rather typical day. I had just finished enlightening everyone at Milligan by putting a quote from the NRSV on our room’s white board, when, glancing at the clock, I noted with excitement that it was "Billy Graham’s hour of Chat" on the internet. As I regularly like to advise him, I hurried to the computer. Alas, as is often the case, I found another upon my cherished machine.

"Dave, as I have an important business on the Internet, why don’t you continue your E-mail in the computer lab?" I suggested evenly. Immediately a barrage of crudities hit me from the peanut gallery. I opened my mouth, prepared to fill my critics with understanding, and as I did so, angels descended upon me. For the next half-hour I overawed them with my wisdom. In the end they were forced to retreat speechless from my presence, no doubt bitter over my deft rhetoric skills.

It was at about this time that the building began shaking, and lifting from the ground. At first I thought it was being drawn up in the rapture. This theory dissipated when I realized that if the rapture WERE to occur, I would be the only one on campus to be taken. Micah, Dan Carpenter, and Girdwood went to investigate. I did the more sensible thing and complained to the RA who gave some feeble excuse about not having control over alien abductions. This infuriated me, so I took it to the Dorm director. He wasn’t thrilled about helping me either. At last I stamped back to the room in frustration. I never did see Dan Carpenter again.

When I came back to the room Joel and Dan Corrizo were there, and everyone seemed to be discussing a "Swear word filter."

When someone rudely demanded that my computer ripped apart in order to access the alien’s computer, I wisely suggested that our time might be better spent discovering the religious affiliation of our captors. Then Micah, who occasionally actually says something intelligent proposed that the aliens might well equate themselves with God.

This was totally unacceptable! I knew then and there that it was my duty to correct the aliens mistaken theology, as it is my duty to lead my college mates into eventual alignment with DOC ideology.

I was working my way down the hall of the dorm, trying to find a way into the alien ship, when suddenly a glaring light struck me. I fell to my knees and cried out for the divine instructions that I knew would come to me. When they did, they where very strange. I heard two voices conversing in the heavenlies. The first one said:

"Dis’ where we dump da junk from our ship, boss?"

Whereupon the second one replied:

"Yeah, dis’ is good enough."

Immediately a flood of trash came pouring down upon me. Straightaway the light was gone. I rose to my feet and surveyed the rubbish. Something glimmered, catching my eye. I dug it out from under a soggy box of unearthly material. It was a chalice! It was yet another divine sign. I looked for a place to store it, but my pockets where full. Recalling something I had read in a Metzger text once, I remembered that it was allowable to store one’s chalice upon one’s head. I donned the chalice, and headed back to the room.

Girdwood intercepted me on the way. He wanted my room key, and tried to engage me in an argument to gain it. I resisted this temptation, however, and in true humility offered not only the key, but also my services in opening the door. There was some trouble with some guard robots, but I sat them down, had an earnest discussion with them, and the problem was cleared up. We mucked about on the ship a bit, and then headed back to the room.

The people I loosely call my peers became troublesome again in the room, wanting access to my computer. I fought it with all my authority, but was forced to submit to the will of the majority, at least, for the time being.

The real trouble started when someone noticed that I was wearing a chalice on my head. Instead of regarding at the sacred symbol it was, there was some childish prattle about my stupidity for choosing to wear a chalice at all. Unfortunately for my deriders, I had the text to prove their error this time.

Upon retrieving it, a voice spoke from above (my life being nothing but a series of pseudo-revelations), that I recognized. Calling out to the Master Matson, he responded that it was indeed he. My fear of our captors was instantly replaced with the joy and relief that it was the Matson in control.

My foolish roommates had the opposite reaction, wanting nothing but to flee the presence of the Matson. And they expected ME to HELP them. I reluctantly opened the room they wanted to enter, not so much for them, as for my own curiosity.

We stepped into what I recognized to be nothing more than a broom closet. There was much pointless dialogue, and then a stranger met us with a name that you did not pronounce except as a pause in speech. He took us, at the Matson’s request, to a deck where we were strapped in and flung into another dimension.

In this dimension I was a king. Servants, whose names where Micah, Girdwood, Joel, and Dan, brought me succulent southern dishes, and begged for me to bestow my wisdom upon them. I had them all beheaded on a whim. This, alas, came to an end.

Those of us on the flight deck where separated and taken to be tested. Knowing that I would pass whatever test it was with ease, I seized the opportunity to bring the wisdom of the NOAB upon my guide, and while he contemplated it, I ran to meet my master.

The master accepted me at once, saying it had been his will all along to have me rule along side him, and that together we would rule the Galaxy. He sent me on the task to rid him of my annoying peers; a mission on which embarked with zeal.

Once more my hapless enemies decided to attempt an escape. I cleverly took control of the escape, and made sure to set off an alarm on our departure. My "friends" complimented me on my piloting skills, totally missing this bit of maneuvering.

A band of ferocious space pirates set upon us, from which I once more rescued our band, and shortly thereafter the petty fools let their differences cause them to separate.

I set out to retrieve them, saving them from themselves. And that is how it REALLY happened.