Uzi - Super Schola Dog: A President Gone Mad

It was a scintillating, September Saturday morning on the Christendom College campus. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, an Indian Summer was in full bloom.

God was in his heaven.

Uzi thought he would drop in on a choir rehearsal. Sure enough he heard it. The choir director's usual patter. "Sopranos, you're sharp! . . . but . . . uh, in other places you're . . . uh . . . slightly above average."

And all was right with the world.

Nothing wrong here. Uzi smiled inwardly and proceeded on up to the chapel to say a prayer of thanksgiving. He had heard some strange rumors, but dismissed them. He now felt more secure. In fact Uzi was not the only one. The choir director himself had received a call earlier in the week from the college president, or someone sounding like him, trying to convince him to change the name of the "Palestrina Choir" to the "Palestinian Choir" in honor of "the late, great Yasser Arafat." The director had laughed it off, assuming that it was a prank by one of those students good at doing imitations. (The voice at the other end of the phone had also suggested that the schola be renamed "Podiddy and the Schola," which really made the director think it a student prank.)

As Uzi reached the vestibule at the top of the stairs, he saw a big banner stretched across the inner entry to the chapel. It said, "Imagine. Inspire. Innovate. Engage. Evolve." His heart dropped to his feet. In fact he felt like the ground underneath him had collapsed. He felt very sick. There it was. He could see with his own eyes that something was wrong. And that banner had not been there the night before, as students later confirmed.

Still, he had to pull himself together. He was a super hero.

He sensed that he should walk toward the library. Sure enough, on the path he encountered almost the entire board of directors running out of their quarterly meeting which was being held in the library board room that very morning. The men in their suits and ties, but screaming in terror; the women nicely dressed, but in tears. It was hard to get much out of them except that the College president, Mike McConnell, was saying disturbing things. He was using phrases like, "I am passionate about the power of inclusiveness and the power of individually diverse perspectives," and "I am committed to collaborative processes of creative re-imaging in which appropriate individuals with their diverse strengths and empowerments are involved."

This was NOT Mike McConnell. Not even close. He was a good orthodox Catholic, a pious man, a political conservative - someone who made fun of the sort of jargon and left-wing ideas he now seemed to be spouting. He was very philo-Irish, true, once playfully misquoting the College's motto as "Instaurare omnia in Hibernia." This got annoying at times, but it was nothing compared to his current position. If it was HIS position? Was this an imposter? Or had some sort of block been put on his free will? If such a thing was possible. Uzi couldn't quite piece together what was going on. What to do? What to do?

This super-hero was clueless, but on the other side of campus, another hero was very clued-in.

Hearing the phone in Padre Pio ring, Irish Setter O'Shaughnessy put down Machaut's "Livre du Voir Dit," one of his favorites, which he was reading in the original Medieval French, and answered. "Yes, President Bush. Yes . . . Umm-hmm . . . Yes, I received a call from His Holiness earlier this morning. Yes, I realize this is a national security issue as well. Umm-hmm, umm-hmm. Of course, for God and Country, I will do the best I can. Christendom College is too strategically important. Yes, yes, I realize it may be time to 'blow my cover' as you say - at least to Uzi."

Irish Setter O'Shaughnessy was an older chaplain who was specifically placed at Christendom by the Vatican, with the approval of the United States government - to keep an eye on things. Although no one on the local level really knew that. Not even the College administration. (They thought THEY had hired him.) The College was too important to the Church and the Nation. In fact O'Shaughnessy deliberately threw everyone off the scent. He adopted another persona, that of the "old duffer." Think of the character played by Wilfrid Brambell in "A Hard Day's Night," - the mischievous, old Irish duffer with sass and an eye for the ladies, or as Paul McCartney said in the movie, "he's a king mixer and he'll cost you a fortune in breach of promise suits."

But the point was, everyone thought he was a harmless, old man - slightly naughty and cantankerous - but harmless. Not to be taken seriously.

At least that was what he wanted any sleeper agents to think.

Another part of his false persona was that he was physically kaput: old, a cane user and often in pain. True, he was almost 80 years old, but in actuality he had the strength of a man one quarter his age. A martial arts expert, he would put these skills to use soon. Still, no one man could do this by himself. He needed help, he needed Uzi. Time to let the young whipper-snapper in on this caper.

Uzi went into the chapel to pray before the Blessed Sacrament, first ripping down the offending banner. It was a FELT banner! (Ugh) After awhile it hit him. Where did that circular white thing out in Kelly's field come from? He was always suspicious of it. It was supposed to be an 'observatory,' but . . . really . . . No one saw it delivered to the site or constructed on the spot. It just appeared one morning. Almost as if it emerged from out of the earth. From below. From under. From . . . down under?

Of course, Professor Townsend.

He was Australian, right? Or was he a New Zealander? Whatever. Close enough. "The Land of Down Under." Sure he had that gentle, teddy-bear personality but, as Uzi was soon to learn, things were not what they seemed. Later, O'Shaughnessy filled him in. Townsend was a sleeper agent. Himself presenting a different persona, pretending to be the gentle orthodox Catholic, "tradition loving koala bear," spouting science and St. Thomas in that really cute accent. Harmless, harmless . . . harmless?

Sure.

In reality he had been trained back in the late 60's and 70's as a very young man by the late Wo Fat, Steve McGarrett's old nemesis, to be an operative for the Red Chinese. The perfect scam. A white New Zealand orthodox Catholic. It seems the Chi-Comms wanted to destabilize the country, maybe even build a missile base on the campus. A dagger at the throat of the nation's capitol. They were going to realize their pernicious plans by first destabilizing the college itself. But how did Agent Townsend gain such control over President McConnell? Not even O'Shaughnessy quite knew at the time.

Uzi heard a commotion outside. President McConnell was outside the chapel trying to tear down the statue of Christ and replace it with a big sign that read, "Self-Actualization Fellowship Chapel." O'Shaughnessy snuck up behind him and gave him the Vulcan nerve pinch. "Uzi me laddie," he said, "we have to get out to Kelly's field and into that so-called 'observatory.' No time to explain."

They left the president lying by the statue, unconscious, to be dealt with later. It was decided that O'Shaughnessy would go first as a decoy because, sure enough, Townsend's young goons were there protecting the observatory. There were twenty of them, students, all wearing short ties in imitation of their merciless master. O'Shaughnessy came up to them on his cane, playing the old fool to perfection. "Well, me laddies, I just got me dispensation from the pope to marry one of these young Christendom beauties. Now what was her name . . . Sheila? . . . Mary? . . . uh . . . uh . . ." The guards started smirking. O'Shaughnessy bent over faking heart trouble. "Oh, its too much good news for me ticker to take . . . uh . . . a young colleen . . . uhhhh . . ."

A couple of the guards came forward to help. "All right gran' dad, you've had enough excitement for today." Whack! Whack! O'Shaughnessy straightened up and knocked them both unconscious with his cane. Five more of Townsend's goons came at him, but he whirled with one of his legs extended. It was just like in The Matrix - in slow-motion with everything coming to a stop as he made contact with them while in mid-kick - then everything sped up again as he knocked them all over like a row of bowling pins. This continued for about two minutes after which, with Uzi's help, there were twenty unconscious students lying in Kelly's field.

The two of them broke the lock on the observatory door and found some sort of ray-emitting mind control device inside. It had only two settings: 1) Annoying Secular College President, and 2) Annoying Irish-American Catholic College President. Uzi thought to himself, "you mean those are our only two choices?" O'Shaughnessy said, "let's just destroy it," - an idea to which Uzi readily agreed.

Having done this, they raced back to President McConnell to wake him up. Finally, he was free from those terrible rays. Free after almost thirty years. Free was his will, no longer impeded. Free to be the man he truly was with no undue outside influences. What would that be? They shook him. He rubbed his eyes, saying, "Where am I? What day is this?"

"You are at Christendom College and this is Saturday, September 27th," they both responded.

Suddenly he sat up and, looking at his watch, he beamed.

"Only 172 days and 13 1/2 more hours until St. Patrick's Day!"