Intern Adventures

Welcome to the first of the semi-whenever-the-hell-I-feel-like-writing-it series known as “Intern Adventures,” composed by your lowly author internbeatit. You may have seen my comment on the Michael Jackson post – yes, I am the same person. One of the many perks of being an Intern in the political office is the many interesting excursions I am “privileged” to undertake. Truly, there is nothing greater than paying my school thousands of dollars to have various political staffers tell me how to spend my time during one of the last summers before I’m forced to enter the mysterious and terrifying place my parents always call “the real world.” Honestly – this is a good gig! Nothing could make me happier than doing what basically amounts to routine data entry for no pay when you have a newly remodeled pool at your apartment, populated by 18-25 year girls, and it’s about 82 degrees outside. As such, I’m only half joking when I say that my little excursions are a relief and a break. “Intern,” (they don’t use my name here, it sometimes provides me hope and self-esteem) “take this so-and-so’s office,” or perhaps “Intern, go into a district and help so-and-so pass out fliers and surveys.” These little vacations from the office help save a person’s sanity.

That was until I was asked to investigate the link between the government and the Catholic Church, and their obsessive stalking of a constituent who is clearly disturbed by the satellite photos and black vans intruding upon their life.

Yay for me.

In case you don’t know what I’m talking about, I refer you to an earlier constituent call that my boss posted on July 7th, the text of that call I shall include here.

“Hello, my name is Catholic Enemy #1.  I hope you can help me.  I am calling to let you know that the people in this county have made my life a living hell.  I am constantly harassed because I moved up here a few years ago.  I am constantly followed and harassed by local law enforcement.  Yesterday a cop drove by my house 3 times!  It didn’t just start when I moved here either, I moved here because the government has been following me for a long time now.  I think they are now working together with the local catholic dioceses to get the local police to harass me.  I am sure the locals are just useless pawns as the government has been taking photos of my house from space for years now.  I am sick of this harassment and I need you to help me once and for all get them away from following me.”

I’m sure by now you are feeling the sharp, stabbing pain in your frontal lobe. I apologize for making you read it, but really, you can’t understand what I went through without understanding for whom I suffered. Why did my boss put me on this assignment? I’d like to say it’s because I was raised and confirmed Catholic (no no, don’t worry, I’ve recovered, I’m fine), attended Catholic school for a time, went to religious education, and took a few religion courses in my time at my university. I’d like to tell you it’s because of my credentials. Surely I’m the most qualified to undertake this vitally important mission of saving an immigrant who believes themself to be followed and harassed by the combined, longstanding, well-publicized alliance between the governemnt and the Vatican. Their history the Church and scientists/astronomers of being good pals is well documented (see: Galilei, Galieleo), so at least they have that in their favor. Unfortunately, my credentials aren’t the reason. In short, my boss doesn’t want to do it, so off I go.

I began my search in the reasonable way: I talked to “my priest,” meaning the pastor at the church we go to on Christmas and every couple years or so, on Easter. He didn’t know who I was, and I was quite offended. After all, he’s “my priest!” Simply put, when I asked him if MY local diocese ordered the local police forces to follow various sinners and heretics, and if not, was it common practice of the Catholic Church as a whole? Two things came of this conversation. One: I finally met my priest, and Two: I’m forever banned from my church. This is undoubtedly a positive.

So, having been thoroughly rejected by the local priest, I jump into my Toyota (hey, I got it when U.S. cars were terrible. If I could afford to trade it in for a Ford Focus, I would, even though it’s an AWESOME car. Let’s remember – I’m the opposite of paid) and start to drive away, pondering my next move. I check my mirrors like any good driver (you know who you are) and see some asshole is tailgating me so close I can’t even identify the make of the vehicle. I tap the breaks. It doesn’t back off. I speed up. It accelerates. I hit the brakes hard, and it swerves around me. It’s a black van with a single, white cross on its door.

I can’t believe it. I pull into a parking lot and grab my phone, shaking. I quickly dial my uncle, who designs satellites for Lockheed Martin. That Mars satellite that went up recently? He says you’re welcome (don’t give him crap about the Polar Lander fiasco, that wasn’t him). Panicking, I demand he tells me what he knows.  He pauses for a moment, and my fear begins to grow. It’s one of those terrible pauses in the movies, right before a major secret is revealed and you’re sitting on the edge of your seat. I could tell – if this was a movie, starring me (played by someone awesome, like a young-looking Christian Bale with a goatee), we would hear heavy breathing, and a sinister sounding Jason Isaacs (sorry that this movie stars British actors, the young American talent in Hollywood these days) saying, in that bad guy sort of way, “I always told you you asked too many questions.”

Click.

That’s it. I’m freaking out. My own UNCLE is in on it. I peek out of my car and stare into the sky, trying to see a satellite. All I got for my trouble was pain in my eyes, but I was losing it. I got back in my car and drove frantically, trying to get back to boss to get some legislative help on this ASAP. I was convinced! I needed no more proof! And then I got pulled over by a local police officer. A local police officer with a cross around his next and a space shuttle model on his dashboard. My hands got sweaty. I was shaking. I thought amount making a run for it – do I get out of the car, or move into a high speed chase up the highway until I either hit the inevitable road blocks set up by the police, the Archbishop, and astronauts or escape to safety?

I settled for getting my insurance and registration ready.

He comes to my open window.

“Your left tail light is out.”

Damn it!

I know my only option is to escape from the country. I have to get away; the conspiracy is too great and reaches too far. I have to get somewhere where the government and the Vatican have no power.  I have to get out of the United States and flee to where they can’t find and can’t extradite me. I’ve delved too deep, learned too much. I’m a danger… I’m a threat…

In short, this entry is totally written from a small Internet café on the China-North Korean border.