“Sloppy” Joe and the Values Test

"Sloppy" Joe Baconburger was the owner of a restaurant. It was an independent eatery called the Celestial Carnivore. As you have probably deduced it catered to a meat-eating clientele. Barbecue ribs, steaks grilled to perfection, pork chops, and prime rib – these were the staples of the supper menu. Its hamburgers, fried chicken and chili con carne were all popular. The pizza section of the menu had but a single entry and that was for “Meat Lovers”. The Carnivore was most famous, however, for a sandwich.

This sandwich was a multi-layered spectacular. Forget the mere clubhouse or even the triple-decker. This sandwich had separate layers for roast beef, roast pork, roast turkey, and roast lamb. Each layer also contained a hearty portion of ham and bacon and slices of various sorts of cheese. If you wanted, vegetable fillers such as lettuce, tomato, and cucumbers would also be added, but these were optional. It was served smothered in chili and gravy. Naysayers called it “the heart attack waiting to happen” but every day people would come from near and far to order it.

One day something strange happened. Like any other day, "Sloppy" Joe arrived at the Carnivore early, pulled into his parking spot, got out of his car, and headed towards the door. Then he ran into a wall. Or at least it felt like a wall. Whatever it was he could not see it. There was nothing there to the visible eye but something was blocking his path to the entrance.

Baffled by the invisible barrier and uncertain of what to do about it, "Sloppy" Joe turned around and took a step in the direction of his car. He was unable to go any further, however, because he found his path impeded yet again by the unseen wall. Turning to his left and right, he discovered that he was boxed in on all sides.

Uttering something that need not be put down in print, "Sloppy" Joe looked around and saw his neighbour Bob walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. He called over to Bob, asking him to go for help, but Bob just kept walking along. "Sloppy" Joe called louder, but there was still no response. He then screamed at the top of his lungs but Bob did not seem to hear him. Whatever was keeping him from leaving or entering his business was apparently also trapping all sound.

Eventually Bob looked around and saw "Sloppy" Joe at which point "Sloppy" Joe began to gesture as best he could within the confines of his transparent cage. Bob shook his head and said “Better stick to cooking Joe, that pantomime act is never going to sell.”

Soon thereafter one of his employees arrived for her morning shift. She waved to "Sloppy" Joe and said hello as she moved toward the restaurant entrance but did not seem to notice anything was amiss. When she got as close to the door as "Sloppy" Joe was, however, a look of surprise came over her face and then, as she turned in all directions, one of panic. "Sloppy" Joe realized that she was trapped too. One by one, his employees showed up, and each in turn got trapped within an invisible box.

“What will happen when my customers start to show up?” "Sloppy" Joe asked himself.

He did not have long to wait. The first customer, one of his regulars, showed up like clockwork at the time the restaurant normally opened its doors to the public. He too found himself stuck between the mysterious unseen walls. The same happened to every other customer that arrived after him.

Before long the area around the restaurant was surrounded by people, trapped in place by invisible boxes. There was approximately six feet of space between each of them.

All of a sudden, a loud maniacal cackle came descending upon them from above. Looking up, they saw a man standing on top of the restaurant, holding a device that resembled a cross between a machine gun and a video camera. Groaning inside, "Sloppy" Joe recognized the man as Dr. Tofu Veggiebrain the notorious mad scientist and leader of an animal rights/environmentalist activist group that wanted to make veganism mandatory and which had been targeting him and his restaurant with harassment of various sorts for years.

“How do you like my latest invention, 'Sloppy' Joe?” Dr. Veggiebrain asked. “I call it the Insta-Mime. Soon you and all others who murder and eat our animal brothers and sisters will be trapped between invisible walls in the world’s most despised form of performance art forever.”

It looked like he might be right. Within an hour the police, fire department, and other emergency services had been called in and they could find no way of releasing anyone from the invisible boxes. The police wrote "Sloppy" Joe and each of the others a ticket for breaking the by-law against public displays of pantomime and then took off.

Soon, however, word of the strange impromptu mime session outside of the Celestial Carnivore got out and within a couple of days it made its way to the Marshmallow Monks (1) in the Carpathian Mountains. They immediately contacted “Eddy” Johnson who rushed to the scene as Reaction Man, (2) battled Dr. Veggiebrain, and freed everyone from their invisible prison. Since this is not an actual episode in The Adventures of Reaction Man but merely an essay illustration in which he makes a cameo appearance, I will not elaborate on the details, but will instead skip ahead to the aftermath of the trial of Dr. Veggiebrain.

After Dr. Veggiebrain was convicted criminally, "Sloppy" Joe filed a civil action against him to recover the losses his business suffered over the period in which he, his employees, and his customers had been mimed. It was not difficult to obtain a ruling in his favour for the law on the matter and the principle of natural justice underlying that law are quite clear. If you deliberately harm somebody else’s business he is entitled to compensation.

Things became complicated, however, when Dr. Veggiebrain said that he would not contest the ruling and would gladly pay the damages – but only on the condition that the Celestial Carnivore sign a statement of agreement with his vegan values and convert to serving only plant-based food.

Whereas most judges would not agree to such a stipulation, "Sloppy" Joe was unfortunate enough to have Justice Bob Baddecision of the Ontario Inferior Court hear his case. Judge Baddecision, who as we know is a close friend of Lucy himself and is prone to live up to his last name, (3) considered Dr. Veggiebrain’s stipulation to be entirely reasonable, and ordered that it be carried out.

You have likely already figured out the point of this story. Therefore I will make my commentary brief.

A man’s business is his livelihood. If your actions are demonstrably responsible for harming or destroying another person’s business, by the laws of natural justice you are required to compensate him for this damage. You do not get to hold the compensation to which he is entitled hostage until he meets your demands. If you attempt to do so you are guilty of a form of blackmail or extortion.

Over the past two months many people have seen their businesses suffer to the point of insolvency. This was not due to substandard goods, poor service, or other faults of their own. Nor can it be attributed solely to causes which are outside human control and for which no human agency can be held responsible. The coronavirus did not destroy these people’s businesses. Government ministers and their health officers did with their mandatory social distancing regulations, shelter in place orders, and lockdown of so-called “non-essential” businesses and services. This is why these businesses are entitled to government assistance at this time. Such assistance is not a “bail out” nor is it socialism, although it will have the same long term effect as these of saddling generations to come with an unthinkable tax and debt burden. It is certainly not the government being compassionate, no matter how much Captain Airhead tries to dress it up in these terms. It is the government paying compensation for damage it has itself inflicted.

This is why the government has no right to impose a values test on the small businesses that apply for such compensation. Since the government put these businesses in danger of bankruptcy, justice demands that the government pay restitution. As the party that has committed the injury, the government does not get to hold back this restitution until the party that has sustained the injury agrees to support abortion and the alphabet soup agenda. Its values test is a form of extortion.

Don’t let Captain Airhead get away with it.

(1) To learn more about the Order of the Marshmallownians see “Brother Moonpie and the Devil’s Apocalypse.”
(2) “Eddy” Johnson previously appeared in The Adventures of Reaction Man: Episode One – The Origin and The Adventures of Reaction Man: Episode Two – Reaction Man Versus the Marxist Zombie Army.
(3) Justice Bob Baddecision of the Ontario Inferior Court and Lucy the gender-confused devil feature in Lucy’s Day in Court and Justice for Minnie?

The Adventures of Reaction Man: Episode II

Reaction Man versus the Marxist Zombie Army

Three times every year Aberhart Manning University in Brown Moose, Alberta hosts a series of debates on important and timely issues. The student body is expected to attend these debates but they are open to the public as well. Unlike most universities, AMU loves the most controversial topics and has a firm, long-standing, policy of making sure that both sides are fairly represented in the debate. The more controversial the topic, the more important this policy is.

Admirable as the university’s stand is, it has made them enemies. Foremost among these is the supervillain known as the Woke Millennial. Lurking in his secret lair, otherwise known as his parents’ basement, one day, he plotted and schemed about how he would make the university grovel before him.

“In exchange for my soul”, the Woke Millennial said, “Lucy has given me the power to generate a force bubble around me within which no intelligent thought can take place and so no ideas to which I object can be expressed. I call this my safe space.”

At this point a classical supervillain would have given off a deep, maniacal, laugh. The Woke Millennial instead gave a high-pitched, shrill, something that was half-way between a giggle and a cackle. As with everything else, they just don’t make supervillains the way they used to.

“The problem is that my power is limited. On my own I can only generate a safe space of a few meters in diameter around me. That is not near large enough, certainly not large enough to encompass the university, let alone the world. Lucy told me, however, that there was a way to make my safe space larger. I need to create an army of mindless zombies. The vacuums between their ears form echo chambers which augment my safe space generating rays. Fortunately for me, it is the nature of zombies to feed off the brains of those around them, creating even more zombies. It is also working in my favour, that university students are the easiest people in the world to turn into zombies, and that the perfect tool for doing so already exists and is in my possession.”

The Woke Millennial looked at his collection of The Complete Works of Karl Marx Annotated and Interpreted by the Frankfurt School.

“The average university student cannot read more than a sentence of this without turning into a mindless zombie. AMU is no ordinary university, however. There is a strong reactionary element there. I will need some protection while my zombie army is being created and while my safe space is still vulnerable. I know, I will call my Aunty Fa!”

The following day was scheduled to be the opening of the first of that year’s series of debates at AMU. The topic for the first debate was Donald the Orange: Good, Bad, or Ugly? The Good position was to be represented by right-wing author, columnist, and media personality, Angela Coltrane. Invited to speak for the Bad position was retired CBC commentator Paul Ladysditch. The Ugly side of things was to be taken up by the anti-racist activist and general left-wing loudmouth, “Borin’” Tinsel.

As the debate was about to begin the dean of AMU began to make his way to the podium to introduce the controversialists. He found his way barred by the Woke Millennial.

“What is your problem, young man?” the dean asked.

“First of all, I object to the terms “young” and “man.” You have imposed these age and gender labels on me. Secondly, I cannot allow this debate to take place. It is unacceptable.”

“It is a three-way debate, and two of the three are on your side! How can you find that objectionable?”

“Because Angela Coltrane is the other debater. Her views have no place in an academic setting. The vulnerable students of this university must not be exposed to any positive depiction of Donald the Orange.”

“This university thinks it best to allow its students to hear all sides and to trust them to evaluate them intelligently and come to their own conclusions.”

A lock of shock came over the Woke Millennial’s face.

“But the students are vulnerable. That is so irresponsible of you. Where is your compassion?”

The Woke Millennial began to cry and as his crocodile tears hit the floor they turned into a cloud of toxic gas from which the dean backed away in fear.

“Now Aunty Fa!”

The Woke Millennial’s Aunty Fa entered the auditorium dressed in a dark paramilitary uniform with her face hidden beneath a hood. Among the powers for which she had traded her soul to Lucy the gender confused devil was the ability to duplicate herself, which she promptly did. Her duplicates formed a barrier between the three invited to participate in the debate and the audience and then began to surround the auditorium. As they did so the Woke Millennial opened up his copy of the Frankfurt School annotated edition of Das Kapital and began to read aloud. As such inane lines as “In reality, the labourer belongs to capital before he has sold himself to capital” and “the value of a commodity represents human labour” fell on the ears of the students in the audience their brains began to evaporate and they became mindless zombies. The first zombies started repeating Marx’s banal tripe to the nearest non-turned students they could find, sucking their brains out and transforming them into zombies as well.

Before Aunty Fa had completely cut off the auditorium, however, preventing anyone from getting in or out, one student managed to slip out and get away. He was a member of the small traditionalist student group Christians United for Royalism and Monarchy Under God and against Egalitarianism and Other Nonsense. Members of this group wear its acronym as a badge of honour, observing that in an age that has gone mad through its obsession with progress the only sane response is to complain loudly about all the new-fangled ways and pine for the good old days. Their response to those who point out that the acronym is misspelled is to say, accurately enough, that their spelling is a centuries old alternative spelling which they deliberately chose because it was archaic. If pressed further, they will say “fine, the d is the d in the middle of Under.” This particular member’s name was Ritz Cracker. He was the youngest son of the youngest brother of Brother Moonpie the head monk of the holy and ancient Order of St. Michael of Marshmallow. (1)

“I need to contact my uncle Graham”, Ritz said as he fled the auditorium. “He will want to know about this and may know what to do about it.”

A short time later, after a very long distance call to a remote monastery in the Carpathian Mountains, followed by another very long distance call from that monastery back to Canada, Brother Whippet, who had decided to remain in Canada for a few weeks after administering the oath of knighthood to Evelyn Disraeli Dryden Bonald Burke Carey Filmer Eliot Hyde Maistre Salisbury Johnson and bestowing upon him the superhero name of Reaction Man, (2) contacted Eddy and let him know what was going down in Brown Moose.

“This is a job for Reaction Man! It will be your first battle, Eddy. Are you ready for this?”

“I don’t know. First I will have to defeat Aunty Fa before I can tackle the Woke Millennial and his zombie army. How am I going to do that?”

“I sent you a parcel. Surely you have received it by now?”

“Yes, it arrived yesterday. But all it contains is a mirror. How is that going to help?”

“It is the Mirror of Truth. Unmask Aunty Fa – the real Aunty Fa, not one of her duplicates – and make her gaze into it. She will see her true spirit reflected in it. Her spirit that is, not her soul, for she has none, having sold hers to Lucy. This will destroy her.”

“Then I guess I am ready.”

Eddy pointed at his cellphone and activated his superhero ability to turn back the clock. The phone transformed into an old-fashioned phone booth. Eddy then entered the booth to change into his Reaction Man costume. Emerging from the booth, he took off into the air, and faster than any airplane, flew to Brown Moose.

Reaction Man landed in front of the AMU auditorium which was now completely surrounded by Aunty Fa and her duplicates. They immediately began to throw epithets at him.

“Racist!”

“Bigot!”

“Fascist!”

“Neo-Nazi!”

“Holocaust Denier!”

“Anti-Semite!”

Reaction Man looked around at them all and wondered how he would ever be able to tell the real Aunty Fa apart from her duplicates. Then he noticed that one of them was talking to herself and that she was saying something that was more than just the one or two word examples of tiresome progressive billingsgate that otherwise seemed to be the limit to the Aunty Fa vocabulary.

“History is on our side! Reaction Man will never be able to defeat us. We will crush him and leave him on the trash heap of history”

“Aunty Fa! You have given yourself away!”

As quick as lightning, Reaction Man moved to Aunty Fa and, separating her from her duplicates, ripped off her mask to reveal the face of a notorious lobbyist and activist.

“Fernie Barber! I should have known that you were the one hiding behind that mask. So you are the Woke Millennial’s Aunty Fa!”

“Yes, Nazi, you have learned my identity, but you shall never tell anyone else. Woke’s zombies shall swallow your brains before you ever get the opportunity.”

“You sure like to throw that N word around Fernie! One would almost think you were projecting. Shall we find out?”

Reaction Man pulled out the Mirror of Truth and made Aunty Fa look into it. Reflected back at her was the infamous face of a man with a postage-stamp moustache, untidily parted hair, and a gaze that could either hypnotize or send you running away screaming in terror. Aunty Fa shrieked in agony!

“I’m literally Hitler!”

Confronted with the truth about herself, that in spirit it was she, not her enemies, who was the fascist, she melted away like the Wicked Witch of the West and all of her duplicates disappeared with her.

Reaction Man stepped in to the university auditorium. The Woke Millennial, seeing him, said:

“I don’t know how you defeated my Aunty, Reaction Man, but you will never defeat my Marxist zombies.”

The zombified students, with arms stretched out before them, began slowly moving towards Reaction Man, and uttering brain-dissolving phrases like:

“Centralization of the means of production and socialization of labour at last reach a point where they become incompatible with their capitalist integument” and “The essential difference between the various economic forms of society, between, for instance, a society based on slave-labour, and one based on wage-labour, lies only in the mode in which this surplus-labour is in each case extracted from the actual producer, the labourer.”

Reaction Man laughed.

“You will need to come up with something better than that mindless drivel if you want to steal my brain.”

Ritz Cracker, who had just arrived back on the scene, witnessed this.

“Is there any way of turning them back Reaction Man?”

“Fortunately, Ritz, I happen to know the cure for Marxism.”

“What is it, Reaction Man?”

“More Marxism!”

“What?”

“Only from a better Marx!”

Reaction Man pointed at the projection screen at the end of the auditorium and once again activated his ability to turn back the clock. A man appeared on the screen. He had very bushy eyebrows and a moustache, and was smoking a huge cigar. He had eyeglasses perched on a very large nose and his entire face looked like it was the inspiration for those fake nose/moustache/glasses combos that novelty shops used to sell – as, in fact, it was. He started to talk.

“One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got into my pajamas I’ll never know.”

The zombies had turned to watch the screen. Signs of returning life began to flicker across their eyes. On the screen, Groucho continued to speak

“I’m not feeling very well. I need a doctor immediately. Ring the nearest golf course.”

A snicker or two could be heard arising from the zombie army.

“The secret of life is honesty and fair dealing. If you can fake that, you’ve got it made.”

Several more chuckles broke out among the zombies.

“I sent that club a wire stating, ‘Please accept my resignation. I don’t want to belong to any club that will have me as a member.’”

A wave of laughter swept across the room, as Groucho’s humourous nonsense drove out Karl’s serious nonsense and restored the former zombies to life.

“Nooooooo” screamed the Woke Millennial! “Those jokes are offensive. They hurt my feelings. They must be silenc….”

The Woke Millennial never completed that word or that sentence for his safe space, which had grown to gargantuan proportions when it was augmented through the echo chambers of the zombies' empty heads, had contracted once the students’ brains had returned and the force of the shrinking safe space had knocked him into a coma.

“What happened to him, Reaction Man?” asked Ritz Cracker.

“The Woke Millennial has been put to sleep.”

“How did you think to use Groucho Marx to counter Karl Marx. A lot of people would have tried to answer those quotes with other quotes from Smith, Ricardo, Bastiat, Friedman, or Mises.”

“True, but that would not have served the purpose. I needed to cure the zombies, not turn them into a different kind of zombie.”

As the auditorium broke out in applause, Reaction Man announced “My work here is done” and turned to the dean and said “Now, you should probably get started on that debate which everyone is here for.” Then, he stepped out the door, took off, and flew home.

Stay tuned for the next exciting episode in The Adventures of Reaction Man

(1) Brother Moonpie and the Order of St. Michael of Marshmallow first appear in Brother Moonpie and the Devil’s Apocalypse.
(2) See The Adventures of Reaction Man: Episode I – The Origin.

The Adventures of Reaction Man: Episode I

The Origin

Evelyn Disraeli Dryden Bonald Burke Carey Filmer Eliot Hyde Maistre Salisbury Johnson was known as Eddy to his family and his friends. His parents, disgusted at how Canada’s public schools had degenerated into left-wing indoctrination camps, had sent him to a private, church-run, school instead, and so unlike most young Canadians his age, he could read and write proper English and was capable of formulating a logical argument. His love and appreciation for his country, reinforced by his having been taught her history without either a Marxist or a Liberal Party interpretive lens, further set him apart from the majority of his generation. He was also a huge fan of superhero comic books and motion pictures based on the same but in this he was not so different from his peers.

Eddy liked to enter contests and occasionally even won a prize. His favourite contest was the annual snap-back-the-spoon contest at the frozen yogurt chain founded by legendary sports figure Jim Morton. Not that this has anything to do with our story, but for the sake of clarity, the Jim Morton in question is neither the Scottish soccer player nor the Australian football player but the Canadian star of the mixed-sport basket hockey, who still holds the all-time world’s record for the longest uninterrupted period spent dribbling the puck. Every summer, his frozen yogurt franchise holds a contest. Every frozen yogurt, ice cream, or gelato they serve comes with a special, contest, plastic spoon. When the customer has finished his frosty treat, he snaps back the handle of the spoon to discover whether he has won a prize or not. Eddy would play every day while the contest was on, although usually he won nothing more than another frozen yogurt.

One hot summer’s day, however, after he had enjoyed a particularly refreshing dessert, he snapped back the handle of his spoon and saw the words “mystery prize.” “Oh boy”, he thought, “this is going to be something really good.” So he took his prize-winning spoon to the counter, and his server congratulated him and took his contact information, telling him that he would receive an e-mail within the next couple of days telling him what his prize was and how he could claim it.

The next morning Eddy checked his e-mail and, sure enough, there was a message from Jim Morton’s corporate headquarters. He opened it and read that he had won a free tour of the Clock Museum. This dampened his spirits somewhat, as a tour of the Clock Museum ranked fairly low on the list of prizes he was hoping to win. To be precise, it was 97, 832nd on the list, right below an ear-wax removal and above a roll of non-stick masking tape. Like Priam of Troy, however, for whom the policy did not work out so well, he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth and, besides, he had nothing better to do on the date of the tour, which was the twenty-seventh of July.

“The twenty-seventh of July”, he noted, “is the ninth of Thermidor, the day of the Great Reaction, when the Reign of Terror of the French Cromwell, Maximilien Robespierre finally came to an end and he was condemned to the same bloody fate to which he had assigned so many others. It ought to be a day of celebration, and I am going to be spending it looking at clocks.”

He, nevertheless, marked it on his calendar, and when the day arrived, showed up at the museum to claim his prize. He was less than thrilled to find that his tour guide was Mona Monotone, widely considered to be the most boring tour guide in the entire Dominion, if not the Commonwealth. According to legend, she had led a group of hyperactive, twelve year old boys, who had just loaded up on sugar, on a tour of Video Game World, and had put them all to sleep within the first five minutes. The legend, Eddy was about to learn, was not exaggerated in the slightest.

When he woke up, hours later, curled up beneath a display of watches that had been made by Thomas Tompion, the famous seventeenth century English horologist he discovered that night had fallen, the museum was closed, and he had been locked inside.

“When it rains it pours” he said to himself.

All at once a flash of lightning could be seen in the sky which was followed by a loud boom of thunder.

“I didn’t mean it quite that literally.”

Eddy walked around the museum looking for a way out but could find none. He then tried to find a way of entertaining himself until the morning when somebody would come by to open the museum and let him out. All he could find was a radio, which he turned on. The only channel that was coming through was playing a marathon of Cher’s post-Sonny break-up-themed hits. “Believe” had just ended and “I Found Someone” was starting to play. Eddy sighed and tried to turn the radio off but found that the power button was jammed. Eddy tried jiggling the button for most of the duration of the song to no avail. He then got up and headed towards the workshop in hope of finding a pair of plyers. As he did, the Cher marathon segued into “If I Could Turn Back Time”

“Well”, Eddy thought, “At least it is fittingly ironic, considering that I am trapped in here among all these time pieces.”

As Eddy passed before the largest window of the museum, he tripped over something and fell into the giant grandfather clock which faced the window. He struggled to extract himself from the clock, but before he succeeded he looked up through the window and saw a shooting star. At that exact moment the song reached the chorus and the title line was running through his head as he saw the star. Also at that exact same moment a bolt of lightning came through the window and struck the grandfather clock in which Eddy was trapped. He immediately fell into unconsciousness again.

When he awoke again, he finally managed to crawl his way out of the clock. He felt strange, but that did not surprise him considering he had just survived a lightning strike. What did surprise him, was that he did not feel injured. He felt stronger, faster, and more clear-headed than before.

All of a sudden the front door to the museum swung wide open. Standing in the doorway, however, was not the museum curator, any of the other museum staff, the local police, or anyone else whom he might have expected to come by at that time of night. Rather it was a figure dressed in a monk’s robe, with the cowl pulled up over his face.

“Eddy Johnson, I presume?” the monk asked.

“Well, it isn’t Dr. Livingstone” Eddy joked. “Who are you and how do you know my name?”

“I am called Brother Whippet, and I have been sent from the ancient and holy Order of the Marshmallownians to find you.” (1)

“I’ve heard of you. You guys are the monks who make the Benedictines and the Franciscans look like the epitome of worldliness in comparison. You came all the way from Romania to find me? Alve-Say et-ay Ave-ay.”

“Etay ibi-tay. I’m impressed. Few outside of our order speak our tongue. Brother Moonpie and Brother Wagonwheel told me that you were an unusual young man.”

“How on earth do you guys know anything about me?”

“An ancient prophecy. Long ago, Christendom – Christian civilization – was defended by the brave knights who served its kings and defended the Church. It was foretold that on the anniversary of the Great Reaction a new knight would arise to fight for Christendom in her darkest hour. Today is that day, and you are that knight.”

“Me, a knight? Are you serious?”

“Very serious. Tell me, did anything unusual happen to you today?”

“I got trapped in the Clock Museum. That does not happen to me every day.”

“I meant apart from that. Did anything else unusual happen to you while you were trapped in this museum?”

“You mean like getting stuck in a clock that got struck by lightning?”

“Yes. The circumstances that converged around that event have given you the powers that you will need in your fight.”

“What sort of powers?”

“All of the usual superhero stuff – super strength, super speed, and flight, plus one power that is unique to yourself.”

“What is that?”

“Look at your wristwatch.”

Eddy looked at his watch and to his astonishment he saw that it was going backwards.

“What does this mean?” he asked.

“It means that your special power is the ability to turn back the clock. It is the most essential power of all for the hero who will champion Christendom against the evil forces of progress.”

“Who or what are these evil forces that you say I will have to fight?”

“Lucy the gender-confused devil has recently gone on a supervillain creating streak. We don’t have a complete list of who all he has bestowed the diabolical powers of progress on, but the ones we know of so far are Social Justice Warlord, Madame Diversity, Bleeding Heart, Egalitron, The Secularizer, Abortion Lady, Lezbo the Feminist Fatale, The Woke Millennial and his Aunty Fa, Veganator, small-r republican, Treehugger the Ecofreak, The Mad Democrat, The Forward Thinker and the Globalizer. You will have to face these and many other foes. Since you are a Canadian, it is almost inevitable that your crusade for Christendom will also bring you into direct conflict with Captain Airhead and it is not unlikely that you may have to face Lucy himself.”

“That is a lot of enemies – but I am ready to fight in this noble cause!”

“Then allow me to formally swear you in to your knighthood. Do you swear to loyally serve your Queen, country and Commonwealth?”

“I do so swear.”

“Do you swear to faithfully practice the Christian religion and to defend and protect Christ’s Holy Church against all its enemies?”

“I do so swear.”

“Do you swear to defend the weak, especially those who are picked on and bullied by anti-racists, feminists, vegans, the alphabet soup gang, and politically correct thugs and goons in general?”

“I do so swear.”

“Do you promise to fight Lucy the devil and the Liberal Party of Canada to your dying breath?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then, as a brother of the Order of St. Michael of Marshmallow, I dub thee knight, and bestow upon thee thy superhero name of Reaction Man.”

So it was that Christendom gained a new champion and a new superhero was born.

Stay tuned for the next exciting episode in the Adventures of Reaction Man.

(1) For more of the Order of Marshmallownians see Brother Moonpie and the Devil’s Apocalypse.

Brother Moonpie and the Devil’s Apocalypse

Hidden away in the mountains, in a forgotten branch of the Carpathian mountain range somewhere on the border between Transylvania and Cisylvania, is the last remaining monastery of the ancient and holy Order of Marshmallownians. It is also the Order’s first monastery, founded over a thousand years ago by St. Michael of Marshmallow himself, shortly before he was captured by Count S’more of Cisylvania, who sent him to his martyrdom by burning him at the stake. The Marshmallownians are a very devout Order, who fast three days a week, and slow on the others. They never miss their daily recital of the seven hours of prayer, and often stick an eighth and even a ninth one in to boot. The prayers are never said in the vernacular, nor is ordinary Church Latin good enough for them. Only Double Dog Latin will do for the Marshmallownians and each member of the Order is expected to be fluent in this lamentably neglected sacred tongue. If you ever get a chance to visit them, be sure to do so and to join them for prayer, for you will never hear anything like it anywhere else.

The current head of the Order is a man whose family name is Cracker and who at birth was given the name Graham after a distant relative who was a famous evangelical preacher. His parents gave him this name because they hoped that he too would become a preacher but he opted to become a monk instead. To his fellow Marshmallownians he is known affectionately as Brother Moonpie, and they rightly esteem him to be the holiest and most devout of them all.

You can imagine the surprise, therefore, when one morning, during Matins, before they had even gotten to the ibi-tay erubim-Chay et-ay eraphim-Say in the Te-ay, eum-Day audamus-Lay, he up and walked out of the chapel.

Brother Wagonwheel, worried that something was wrong, followed him out. Brother Moonpie, not seeming to notice that he was being shadowed, walked down the corridor to the monastic library, where he went to a neglected shelf in the back and pulled a dusty tome forward. A wall swung open to reveal a hidden chamber. It too was lined with books, older and dustier, for the most part, than the ones in the main part of the library, and contained a study desk upon which what looked to be the oldest and dustiest book of them, lay open. Brother Moonpie sat down in front of the book, turned a page, and then said:

“If you ever wish to moonlight as a detective, Brother Wagonwheel, you will need to learn how to trail people in a much less noticeable manner. I have a DVD that might help you in this. It is a very rare copy of the film version of the only known collaborative work between Ian Fleming and Erle Stanley Gardner, a James Bond/Perry Mason teamup which was published under the alternate titles The Defense Never Rests and The Case of the Debonair Assassin when the manuscript was discovered after both of its authors had passed on. Someone managed to talk Sean Connery and Raymond Burr into reprising their most famous roles for the film. I really do recommend it and you could pick up some marvelous tips.”

“Um, thanks, I think. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Brother Wagonwheel really didn’t know what else to say.

“So, you must have followed me, to the ultra-secret reserved section of the library that up until now only I knew about for a reason. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I followed you because I was concerned. It is not like you to slip out of Matins before it is even half sung. I was worried that something was wrong.”

“Well, you were right to be worried. Something is wrong, very wrong, but not with me. At least, not in the sense you were thinking.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Something is very wrong in the world outside the walls of this, our safe haven, my friend. I have observed the signs for years and they have been increasing. I have been unable to concentrate on anything else and so have come here to meditate upon the situation.”

“Signs? Of the Apocalypse you mean?”

“Yes and no. As you know, both Testaments of our Holy Scriptures, contain Apocalyptic writings, vivid prophesies of a climactic final battle, in which our Lord and Saviour shall return, defeat the forces of darkness, judge the living and the dead, and reign forevermore. Signs of this Apocalypse would not disturb me at all, for it is the blessed hope for which we are commanded to watch and wait.”

“What other Apocalypse is there?”

“There is nothing pertaining to our Lord that Lucy has not attempted to counterfeit.”

“Lucy? You mean the daughter of the innkeeper in the village down the mountain?”

“No, I mean Lucifer, the enemy of men’s souls.”

“Oh, right, that Lucy.”

“This foul tome that lies open before me is Lucy’s Apocalypse. We keep it here for reference, but in this strictly restricted section, because it is more wicked than the Necronomicon, the Satanic Bible, the Communist Manifesto, the Feminine Mystique, Locke’s Two Treatises and all other such works put together. As you might expect there are both similarities to the Apocalypse in our Holy Scriptures and significant differences. Like our Apocalypse it tells of a final decisive battle between God and the devil. In Lucy’s version the devil wins.”

“But there is not the slightest chance of that happening.”

“Of course not. But that will not stop Lucy from trying to make it happen. Indeed, Lucy has attempted to make it happen several times throughout history. In your studies you have probably encountered the fact that several historical figures have been identified by Christians in their day as the Antichrist, the Man of Sin who will arise to lead the devil’s forces in the final battle. In one sense this identification was a mistake, for none of these figures turned out to be the final Antichrist who features in our Apocalypse and will be defeated directly by Christ at the Second Coming. They were, however, previous attempts by Lucy to bring his own version of the Apocalypse to pass.”

“His version? With a name like Lucy shouldn’t it be her version?”

“The fact that someone is confused about his gender does not give him the right to impose his confusion on the rest of us. Professor Peterson has some excellent videos on this subject, I’ll send you a link.”

“So the Apocalypse of St. John the Divine, if I understand correctly, tells us what will happen at the end of time because it has been foreordained by God to happen at a time that He has also determined but not revealed, whereas Lucy’s counterfeit Apocalypse gives the outcome the devil wants to make happen. God’s version will inevitably play out in history but only once, whereas Lucy’s version will periodically recur because he lacks the power to bring about his desired outcome and will keep trying until his final defeat in the real Apocalypse.”

“Exactly.”

“And you think we are living in one of those periods now?”

“The signs first became evident a decade or so ago when the first of the Four Justins of the devil’s Apocalypse appeared on the scene.”

“Don’t you mean the Four Horsemen?”

“No. Remember, Lucy’s Apocalypse counterfeits the true Apocalypse. It is in St. John’s Apocalypse that the Four Horsemen are described as being unleashed upon the earth when the first seals on the seven-sealed scroll are broken. In Lucy’s version, the Four Justins are beings that Lucy sends to wreak his wicked will through the means of popular entertainment. We have seen three of the four make their appearance.”

Brother Moonpie indicated with his hand an envelope on the desk next to the book and Brother Wagonwheel opened it and looked at the three glossy pictures inside. He then objected:

“I thought you said they would be popular entertainers. This one is a Canadian political leader.”

“Evidently, you are not familiar with Canadian politics. It is a form of popular entertainment, a subgenre of ordinary clowning. The individual you have indicated is well known to be a clown. Many people have a hard time distinguishing between clowns and the bogeyman. There is a reason for that.”

“Are you saying that he is like Pennywise?”

“It is hard to tell exactly where on the scale of clownish evil he falls – perhaps he is closer to the Joker, maybe he is closer to that guy who sells hamburgers – but either way he is a definitely a clown and like the other two Justins has all the signs of having come straight from Lucy himself.”

“Two of the three are Canadians, the other is an American. Does that mean that the fourth one when he appears will be an American?”

“It is possible. We know that Lucy’s most recent attempt to raise up the Antichrist involved an American. Three years ago one of Lucy’s American daughters, a member of the sisters of the night, the most sinister witches’ coven of all, was poised to take control of the American military-industrial complex and start World War III. Lucy’s scheme was defeated, however, by the triumphant rise to power of Donald the Orange.” (1)

“Wait, would that not mean that this round of the devil’s Apocalypse is over?”

“I wish it were as simple as that. But Lucy is not admitting defeat and, indeed, seems, if you will pardon the expression, hell-bent on bringing down the man who thwarted his designs and is more determined than ever to bring his version of the Apocalypse about.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have all of the facts, but this much I can tell you, that Lucy’s relationship with Mick and Keith has been under a lot of stress in recent years and the Orange Caesar’s defeat of Lucy’s daughter happened to follow immediately on the heels of the latest and ugliest quarrel. Illogical as it seems, Lucy appears to blame Donald for the fight.”

“How do you know this?”

“Do you remember how a year or so ago we granted sanctuary to a man named Cesare Salad?”

“Yes, he was a sort of a rough looking character.”

“He had been an enforcer for the Fettuccini crime syndicate in Ontario, Canada. His godfather, Don Alfredo, the head of the syndicate, is a good friend of Lucy’s. (2) One day he happened to overhear Lucy discussing his plans with Don Alfredo and some Ontario judge (3) and it frightened him so bad he ran away, all the way to us.”

“What kind of plans?”

“Apparently Lucy has been using the findings of stem-cell research, of which he has plenty to make use of for every aborted foetus is a sacrifice to Satan, to conduct experiments in the genetic engineering of demons and has found a way of crossing the harpies from the seventh circle of his infernal domain with the Malebranche from the eighth to produce a kind of super-harpy. He has made four of these fiends so far, which he calls his “squad”, and they are supposed to be so terrible and horrifying as to make the Justins look tame in comparison. He has sent them to wreak his vengeance on Donald the Orange.”

“Surely he will just send them back where they came from.”

“Most likely. In the meantime, however, the signs are continuing to increase.”

“What is the latest one?”

“The disturbing increase in veganism. Everywhere you look, these days, you find these new plant-based meat substitutes being advertised and sold.”

“I know that veganism is disgusting and silly and wrong but is it really a sign of the devil’s Apocalypse?”

“Of course it is! It is central to Lucy’s entire plan. Have you forgotten that is was by persuading Adam and Eve to eat a piece of fruit that he brought sin into our world long ago? Or that he caused the first murder by inspiring the plant-eater Cain to be envious of his carnivorous herdsman brother Abel? Lucy knows that even with Original Sin working in his favour the only way he will ever be able to deceive enough people to follow his Antichrist will be if he can starve their brain cells of essential nutrients and that the easiest way of doing so is to persuade them to voluntarily reject the most delicious source of nutrition that God in His grace has given to man.”

“So what you are saying is…”

“That to foil this part of Lucy’s scheme we must get beyond vegetarianism.”

At this point Brother Moonpie glanced at his watch and exclaimed “Look at the time! We have been discussing this all day. Vespers will have started already. Come with Brother Wagonwheel. With any luck we will still be in time for the agnifcat-May.”

The two monks left the secret room, carefully concealing the entrance again, and walked back to the chapel to resume their prayers.

(1) See The Witches Sabbat.

(2) Don Alfredo and the Fettuccini crime family feature in Justice for Minnie?

(3) Justice Bob Baddecision of the Ontario Inferior Court first appears in Lucy’s Day in Court.