The Bunker

No, it’s not the name of a new short story, but you never know. I have no new installments to post from my stories in progress either. But here is a picture of one of my notebooks at my drafting table; first draft fresh from the brain stuff. Then there is the beginning of the second draft, not so fresh off the typewriter resting underneath, as I have been working to finish off the story before getting back to any refinements on what’s already written.

One day I went to bowl at a league event. We only had the one car available at the time so my wife dropped me off at the lanes, or alley as we used to call it, and went on her way with her business. I brought one of my notebooks along, thinking I may get some writing done while waiting for my wife to pick me up after. It was tucked well into a pocket of my bowling bag. So I toss my ball and turn back and what do I see? I guy I know, with several other fellows all around, standing over an open notebook that looked exactly like mine, taking pictures of the pages with his cell phone. I tossed my second ball and came to the seating area All had scattered and there was no sign of a notebook. I checked my bag. This was early in my writing of “Partisans of the Blue,” of which, if I am not writing out the final scene by the end of this month I should cover myself in sack cloth and ashes. If you younger people don’t understand the reference, …read the Bible!

Here is another photo from some more pages, taken with my own camera of course. For this story in particular I have to work out plans and designs for several homes. My background is in architecture, a fact to which I attribute my abilities in copy editing, or rather in not needing any.

But it is not just camera phones that at times have me balling my fists. Several items from our home have gone missing, including a camera I had set up near our computer (not a small expense for us). At a tour of my old High School (a Jesuit institution), an event some years back now, as we walked through the hallways one of my former classmates described the experience, walking through the hallways, in near identical words as I had written in a work I am not currently advancing, simply titled “High School.” Coincidence? Of course I thought, until another classmate turns with disparaging looks and short quip to the other, as if to say, ‘Stop it.’

I have come across several accounts of authors in several mediums and took notice that many have or have had very secure locations from which they wrote; some writing in outright bunkers. I think I can understand why. It may well be chalked up to an overactive imagination. Security of one’s work, especially when they reflect one’s deepest views of life, and touch the very uniqueness of one’s personal character and creativity, is important. To think that one could steal one’s work, take credit for the words of your heart and soul, and profit as you yourself may be living in near poverty seems inconceivable, but history tells a different story.

But what I have described is more than an overactive imagination, or mere coincidence. I believe it to be the result of acts of blatant bigotry. It is for my faith that I have been targeted by those who see my success, or even the holding of any status of relevance in society a threat.

A documented example may drive the point home better. Mr. Toru Goto of Japan, a member of my church and a former student of Architecture, was held captive for over twelve years by those devoted to destroy our faith. It came to the point where they even attempted to starve him to death. Was it that no one knew a man was being held captive, against his will, in a prison like apartment unit? Of course people in the area knew as did most likely the police. But it was considered a ‘family matter.’

These hate groups, criminals, hide behind their victim’s families to instigate their campaigns of hate, destruction and terror. And so I believe it is in my case, that at some point such a groups was empowered to target me by my family, that considers my faith a mindless cult. This is more than running across the occasional individual, in professional or personal life, that despises your very existence because of what you believe. These are not the greatest of hurdles to overcome (life comes with adversity), and I would like to believe such individuals have not influenced associated institutions related to my life and professions.

It is quite different when a small group sets themselves against your very  existence (much like ten people who have been exposed leading a massive Internet campaign against advertisers on a certain nationally popular radio talk show). These hate groups hide in the shadows and validate their activities, that extend to stalking and worse, by some supposed blessing, from a person’s family, the backing by some respected institution such as a party or an acceptable church. The deeper and more extensive their activities grow, without their cover being blown, the more they feel validated and the greater their crimes. In the case of Mr. Toru Goto, the atrocities against him were instigated by a chain smoking Christian minister who is invited to and attends, even in light of his vile actions bring exposed, annual ‘anti-cult’ conferences here in the United States.

Here is a picture of some pens I have run dry this Summer. After taking this picture another ran dry, and I am having trouble finding a working pen around the house. Since I do not have a bunker, cannot afford to build one, or to even buy a good safe of any kind to protect my work, I may need these as evidence of my efforts; to sample and correlate with my notebooks to create a timeline.

A bit crazy? Does it make me a better writer? The fact is I have brought many issues to various members of my family, issues wilder than those mentioned here, and have been met with only diversion or silence. It has never been suggested to me by my family that I was lying, crazy or in need of any help of any kind. In fact, my younger brother is a Catholic priest that has outright lied to me, and afterwards, claiming he wanted to talk again at length, has avoided any opportunity for a sit down. The lie is deep and undeniable.

It is not in my nature to act in malice against anyone. I am also not one afraid to speak truth to power. I can only pray and hope at some point someone will be brave enough to take a stand against these malcontents and haters (gossips, busy bodies and back stabbers in a more Biblical sense), whom I believe more and more are directly tied to the Catholic church, or provide me with actionable facts that I myself can be empowered to protect myself. Or perhaps I should just build a bunker and close the door behind me.