The actual fact is this. Rutherford bought a set of books from a colporteur (because the Judge had toiled as a salesman himself to put himself through Law School) and felt sorry for the Bible Student offering the books.
This led to a Bible study (ha - a recruitment) and eventually an introduction to the Pastor who'd authored The Divine Plan himself, Russell.
Rutherford ingratiated himself with the Boss and became indispensable as an attorney.
His over-powering personality would impress the mild-mannered Pastor at first.
Eventually, however, we can see from Russell's Last Will and Testament - he knew Rutherford was not the sort of person to be put in charge of the Bible Students (or Russell's legacy.)
Posts by Terry
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4Interview with Russell and Rutherford (satire)
by Terry inthis interview was found amongst johannes greber's papers left in his attic and probably were the result of his wife channeling the spirits of russell and rutherford!.
q: how do you wish to be called; mr.russell...dr.russell, pastor russell?.
russell: for many years i served as a pastor although i never darkened the doorway of an institution of theology for purposes of obtaining certification in the mindset of christendom.. rutherford: you can call me judge or you can call me joe as long as you call me for supper!
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Terry
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6
A Strange Story
by Terry ina strange story.
chad's diner .
the visitor in the tattered baseball cap blinked painfully in the direction of the sun and winced.
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Terry
There was actually a Chad and a Chad's diner I heard about on NPR (a couple of decades ago) which, for me, struck a chord. The real Chad died, however.
But for some strange reason I thought to myself - "What if Chad had not perished, and what if he didn't know he was himself Chad, a further - what if he sometimes visited his own Diner as a stranger? And then the idea became: what if I wrote a story where the reader doesn't know who the protagonist is - but he's being followed around by a strange character? I'd love to see my story done as a teleplay on Alfred Hitchcock presents ;) -
6
A Strange Story
by Terry ina strange story.
chad's diner .
the visitor in the tattered baseball cap blinked painfully in the direction of the sun and winced.
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Terry
A Strange Story
CHAD'S DINER
The visitor in the tattered baseball cap blinked painfully in the direction of the sun and winced. The map in his hand seemed to go white for a second as his eyes adjusted once more to the tiny words.
The Visitor's Center behind him shimmered in August heat with its CLOSED sign dangling from the locked door.
Now and then, he'd pull off the cap and wipe the sweat away stopping to ask strangers for directions.
He'd nod as they spoke. The heat baked his head which pounded with agony, making him lose track of what they had just said.It was right about then --
he began to notice somebody watching him.Across the narrow street he'd caught a man studying him .
Weird.
Immediately the spooky stranger feigned interest in a paperback book and moved his lips as though reading it.Maybe. Maybe not. Could be heatstroke and imagination!
("It didn't mean anything. This headache is all that matters.")
Struggling to make sense of this village map, the man in the baseball cap narrowed his eyes and headed off due west.
At least - he hoped it was West.
_____The large white lettering read CHAD'S DINER.
Stopping in front of a large glassed window the smell of coffee immediately felt promising...smelled wonderful!The bell tinkled as he swung the door open and a wave of cold air met the August heat behind him as he entered.
Whew! Air conditioning! He smiled. But the smile began to fade.
The Diner seemed peculiar all at once.
"Chad's Diner", he whispered to himself.It was bustling with activity as employees wearing red shirts scurried about like ants at a picnic.
That wasn't weird.
What WAS weird was the T-shirt each employee wore...with a name and how the person was related to the owner.
Chad's was obviously a family restaurant with an owner who had a BIG ego.
Three T-shirt employees passed his table. He found himself reading the letters as they passed by:"HI! I'm Chad's Uncle."
"HI! I'm Chad's brother."
"Hi! I'm Chad's cousin."
Walls were decorated with hand-colored drawings signed by "Chad." Each drawing was a different view of the Diner from inside. One thing for sure ; Chad was not a great artist.
Half the pictures were child-like while others slightly more professional.
Curious nonsense!
A waitress suddenly appeared - way too cheerful!
"Hi, I'm Chad's...um....well, I guess I'm not!"
The woman's voice spoke cheerfully. He faced a lady in her mid-40's wearing a T-shirt with white letters he read out loud to himself:
"HI! I'm Chad's Mom."The waitress looked confused. Embarrassed.
"I'm
nother. Not Chad's Mom."She lavished a broad smile.
He blinked at her as though he feared she were dangerous. She quickly reached out and touched his arm comfortingly."Chad's REAL mom gave me her shirt to wear. I'm just a friend of hers from High School visiting for the summer. I haven't seen her in years!
Can you believe it? She put me to work here in the diner!
Would you like a table?"He nodded reluctantly and they crossed the hardwood floor passing tables and conversations, the sound of sipped coffee, rattling dishes and clinking silverware.
Not Chad's Mom sat him next to the window looking out across the road toward the Town Square where musician's were unloading their instruments for a sunset concert.
"Would you like a menu or do you already know what you want?"
"Coffee....please........and.......pie. You have pie?" He stammered.
He rubbed his head poking fingers under his baseball cap.
"I'll bet you have a headache, don't you? That sun is so bright out there! I'll get you some aspirin from my purse. We've got apple, cherry, lemon and coconut cream."
"Apple...is fine. Lots of whipped cream. Thanks. I guess I stared into the sun too long."
He rubbed his cap again and gazed absently out the window."Coming right up."
She turned briskly and headed off toward the swinging kitchen door.Looking out through the window - that weird guy caught his gaze.
The same quirky fellow directly across the street staring back at him again! Immediately assuming the posture of a person examining a newspaper and fiddling in his pocket for pretend change.(Some kind of creep; maybe a pickpocket?)
The strong scent of frying burgers pulled him back as his coffee arrived along with a generous heaping wedge of pie.
Lots of whipped cream!Waitress faked her smile.
"I'll be right back. Gotta get this double cheese to Mister Impatient over there before he blows a gasket."
Now and again one of the "HI! I'm Chad's--" would pause and fix their gaze on him and make a face and go away.
(He must have whipped cream on his nose again.)
Or ...
He touched his armpit casually and held his fingers up to his nose.
Yeah. Well, too bad.
Wandering around this nowhere village and getting lost might bring out some honest sweat in anybody!Outside, the lurking weird guy seemed to have moved on.
At least, he wasn't obvious any longer. Maybe tired of his sport already."Here ya go, honey. Two St. Joseph's aspirin for a whopping headache! Just what the Bishop ordered!"
He listened to her chuckle to herself and then swallowed the aspirin, chugging the tumbler of water without pause.
He glug-glugged without embarrassment.
"Woo. You must be thirsty."
She stated the obvious with a sense of discovery.
He checked his nose for whipped cream and began hesitantly trying to find just the right tone, "What is all this...."Chad" business with the shirts and drawings."?
The waitress pursed her lips and looked around at nothing at all. Shrugged.
"It isn't a story to tell out loud, not really."
He watched her struggle with herself and lose. She liked the gossip.
"Chad is my best friend's son. I lived in another State and never met him. But I've heard plenty about him. He always--and I do mean ALWAYS--wanted to own his own Diner when he grew up. Those drawings are his plans he's been working on since he was knee-high. Very bright kid, I'll tell ya, honey! He knew just how many stools at the counter and what they should look like. Drew the table arrangements, color of the walls and all that."
He poked his fork into the crust of the apple pie and it flaked promisingly.
"Chad's idea, you see, was to start a business for the whole family to work at. He saw himself as Boss. Get it? Smart kid! And..ambitious you might say."
"Sure."
The bite of pie was tart, cold and fresh. He checked his nose for whipped cream."Everybody encouraged Chad, naturally. I doubt they--any of them--really figured it would come to anything in the long run."
"Sure looks like it did from where I'm sitting."
He spoke with his mouth stuffed and working the chew.She smiled sadly. A distant look filled her eyes.
"What? Things didn't go as planned?"
He sipped the coffee as the pounding in his head eased off to a mild roar.
"The accident pretty much began and ended everything at the same time."
She seemed to say it more to herself than to him.
("Accident.")
He nudged the last morsel onto the tines of the fork. "Accident?"
She came back into focus and flashed a nothing smile out of habit.
"It was Chad's eighteenth birthday. After the party he and his next door neighbor went into the bedroom so he could show him his new pistol his Daddy had given him. Whatever happened next--the gun went off. It was loaded. Chad was shot in the head."
He paused in mid-sip and slowly put the coffee cup back down with a loud clink. He looked around. Each table, each face, with interest for the first time.
"The family decided to make the Diner really happen after that. For Chad. You know, as people sometimes do. In a strange way it suddenly made sense to all of them. Carry on just the way Chad expected his life to go. They'd honor his dream. They took up a collection and started the business. Took great care to build it just as Chad had figured it should look. Well, as you can see."
She passed her hand around in a half circle airily.
He turned his head away from her as though she were bad luck. His eyes instantly fixed on the figure across the street peering back again unflinchingly this time.
"Want anything else? More coffee?"
"Uh, no. I'll be going now. Thanks."
He picked up the check and reached into his pocket for change.
The waitress was halfway into the kitchen when he turned.
As he rose from the table he looked back at the street where the creepy figure began crossing with a purpose never breaking his gaze. Heading toward Chad's Dinner!
His waitress caught up beside him at the cash register standing next to "HI! I'm Chad's Dad."
They were having words. Not an argument. Serious words.He waited patiently until he became impatient.
"I'm sorry," he interrupted them glancing back outside as the strange man stood just outside the door, "I don't seem to have brought my billfold with me. I'm very embarrassed..."
The waitress quickly turned away from him.
The "Chad's Dad" fellow quickly returned to the kitchen.
He had seemed to be upset.All the red shirts were stopped in the middle of whatever it was they had been doing. Their attention was riveted at the front of the dinner.
"Small town people must love the sight of a visitor with no money", he whispered to himself.
Finally!
"I found a five dollar bill! Whew! That was a close one."
He passed the money across the glass counter toward his waitress.She stared past him for a moment. Directing her attention out the door.
"Say, how long ago did Chad die?"
Faltering in her reach for the five dollars, the lady looked troubled and nervous.
"Chad
didn't die." She stated flatly.
Color came into her cheeks as she spoke."He was shot in the head, but,
it didn't kill him.
The...uh...after effects left him.......not quite himself any longer. He stays in a hospital next to the Visitor's Center for observation. But, according to Chad's Dad - well, occasionally he finds a way out and he has to be fetched back again.
His Dad said, Chad automatically comes here...."The front door tinkled and warm air from outside brushed past his pant legs.
Watching everybody's face gave him chill bumps as he turned and faced the door.
Heading straight for the register with a grin, the weird man stopped two feet away. Confronting him directly with a steady expression, the creep stared into his eyes.
("This is outrageous," he thought to himself.)
A weird hand reached out and touched his sleeve just as he accepted his change from the waitress.
The man from outside spoke something softly as he tightened on his arm causing the change to spill onto the floor.
"It's time to go back, Chad." The creepy guy said to him.
He froze.
His head tingled.
He reached up with whipped cream on his fingers.
The baseball cap went back on his head uncovering his scar.
His headache had returned.Suddenly, the hair went up on his neck. He was ... remembering something...
"Oh..yeah. yeah. Hi Dr. Bruce."
The doctor began guiding him gently toward the exit.
Chad licked the whipped cream from his fingers and pointed to the crowd of customers.
"Nice Diner, huh?"
______
(by T.E.Walstrom)
THE END of Chad's Diner
Partially based on a true story -
4
Interview with Russell and Rutherford (satire)
by Terry inthis interview was found amongst johannes greber's papers left in his attic and probably were the result of his wife channeling the spirits of russell and rutherford!.
q: how do you wish to be called; mr.russell...dr.russell, pastor russell?.
russell: for many years i served as a pastor although i never darkened the doorway of an institution of theology for purposes of obtaining certification in the mindset of christendom.. rutherford: you can call me judge or you can call me joe as long as you call me for supper!
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Terry
This interview was found amongst Johannes Greber's papers left in his attic and probably were the result of his wife channeling the spirits of Russell and Rutherford!
Q: How do you wish to be called; Mr.Russell...Dr.Russell, Pastor Russell?
Russell: For many years I served as a Pastor although I never darkened the doorway of an institution of theology for purposes of obtaining certification in the mindset of Christendom.
Rutherford: You can call me Judge or you can call me Joe as long as you call me for supper! ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Q: Very well. Pastor Russell and Judge Rutherford can you briefly describe your relationship?
Russell: Well, I'm dead and so is Joe. But, due to being resurrected as a spirit we live on in the capacity of disembodied beings.
Rutherford: Speak for yourself Charlie! I'm serving in an executive capacity in heaven on the board, as it were.
Q: Board? Of what?
Rutherford: Board of Directors! I direct....
Russell: He means HELPS direct...
Rutherford: I DIRECT the preaching work under the Christ Memorial division and oversee the protocols of doctrinal dissemination.
Russell: He blusters!
Rutherford: Harrumpf!!
Q: Have things changed for you since your demise and resurrection? I mean...as far as your mission in connection with Jehovah's Kingdom?
Russell: Oh my yes! So many things are clearer now than in my earthly state...
Rutherford: For instance: the first thing you discover in heaven is that God's name isn't JEHOVAH!
Q: Startling news for a Jehovah's Witness!
Russell: Not for me...I never was one; although I used "Jehovah" to reference deity.
Rutherford: At any rate....Jehovah is not the name our Lord prefers to be called. In fact, He despises the very use of it.
Q: What exactly IS the Lord's name?
Rutherford: Randolph. Jerry Randolph.
Russell: I too was shocked.
Q: How is this possible?
Rutherford: He just likes the name, that's all. He says He can call himself anything He likes and He likes Jerry Randolph!
Russell: All those Jehovah's Witnesses drive him batty talking to Him and about Him as though they play golf together.....really ticks him off.
Q: So, are we to assume Jehovah's Witnesses ARE God's ...um...Jerry's chosen people? Or, not?
Russell: Oh my no!
Rutherford: They are definitely on his shitlist! But, he doesn't blame me.
Russell: No, Jerry mainly blames old Freddy Franz. So much imagination in one little man--but, not much fact at all!
Rutherford: And----you can look around heaven all you like; you won't find Freddy anywhere!!
Q: Oh! Should we assume he is...um...in another less appealing place?
Rutherford: Oh yes! He is in Detroit!
Russell: In a very small walkup apartment without central heat and air!
Q: Whaaaat?
Rutherford: That's right. He has been set the task of reading all of L.Ron Hubbard's writings and giving a report on them to the Big Guy?
Russell: Jerry is fascinated by Scientology! He hasn't made up His mind about it yet, though. He can't understand most of it....
Rutherford: ...but, He really likes the soupcans and the Auditing aspect of it!
Q: Since you mention Scientology----this raises the question of exactly what IS the only true religion?
Russell: Oh, I asked Jerry that myself right off when I go here!
Rutherford: So did I!
Q: And......?
Russell: Jerry hasn't made up his mind yet, but, right now He is leaning toward Deepak Chopra's ideas. He likes the way Chopra dresses....and his sauve, manly suntan!
Rutherford: ...especially on Oprah!
Q: This is astounding! The Supreme Being doesn't KNOW which religion is true?
Russell: Oh, Mr.Randolph insists He is not the SUPREME being. He thinks of Diana Ross as the Supreme being.
Rutheford: Oh you dolt! Jerry was making a play on words when He said that to you! Idiot!
Q: Um....this raises more questions, naturally....
Russell: Don't call me idiot, you buffoon.
Rutherford: Kiss my pucker, whiskerboy!
Q: Gentlemen!! Gentlemen!!
Rutherford: We're NOT men anymore. I told you. We are spirits!
Q: Allright. Whatever you like. Can we move on? I'd like to know what purpose God, er uh, Jerry has for mankind. Can either of your give a detailed synopsis?
Russell: Certainly. Jerry woke up in the middle of the universe in the middle of endless eternity and decided He existed. After that, He was really bored.
Rutherford: Yes. Who wouldn't be with all that time on His hands?
Russell: So, He decided to start a hobby or two to occupy Himself.
Rutherford: And, to cut to the chase, He has been improvising ever since then!
Q: Fascinating! Go on...go on!
Russell: He began toying with..the act of creating using parts of Himself.
Rutherford: That is where his bosom companion came from that we used to think of as Michael or Logos.
Russell: Yes, but we were wrong, Joe--don't leave that out!
Rutherford: I wasn't! It was Freddy who was wrong. He wrote most of my material that didn't make any sense, you see.
Russell: Don't go scapegoating Franz, Judge. You approved of everything he wrote!
Rutherford: Hogwash! I had a magazine to fill. I needed SOMETHING to put in it; even the folderol Freddy churned out.
Q: Excuse me---are you saying that God and his...um...Logos are not part of a Trinity?
Rutheford: You can explain that one, Charlie.
Russell: Oh, thanks. Not much to explain, really, God is a really bored personality who suffers from Multiple Personality Disorder. He switches back and forth all the time.
Q: Astonishing!
Rutherford: Worse than that. Tell him, Pastor!
Russell: Yes....Jerry can't really be regarded as "sane" in the same sense that you and I are sane.
Rutherford: Speak for yourself, Pastor!
Russell: I WAS speaking for myself! Anyway, Jerry gets depressed and prickly at times. His interaction with humanity is alot like a young lad with toy soldiers to occupy his imagination.
Rutherford: Or dinosaurs! He was fascinated with all those strange concoctions for millions of years!
Russell: Yes, I forgot about that. He came up with all kinds of imaginative and scarifying inventions. Finally ended up making them fight and eat each other until even that bored him; then....
Rutherford: Then--Jerry sent a huge asteroid to crash into Earth and He started all over.
Russell: Yes, with HUMANS!
Rutherford: But, that was as He was maturing a bit. Humanity was a more refined game.
Russell: Hardly that!
Q: Are you saying God did not have the divine purpose stated in the Bible that was temporarily thwarted by man's SIN??
Rutherford: You can think what you like, but; Jerry told me He was just making everything up as He went along.
Russell: Jerry use to love talking to mankind or putting a good scare into them.
Rutherford: Or, impressing them with miracles and wonders!
Russell: Or getting really angry with them when they failed to play the game the way Jerry wanted!
Rutherford: Oh boy--did He ever get angry!!
Q: Are you saying the Bible isn't true, or; that it is not fully accurate?
Russell: The bible is mainly a guess and a lot of fill in the blanks.
Rutherford: Yes, unfortunately for the True Believers there isn't much substance there after all.
Q: Amazing!
Russell: Sigh. Yes, all those theology students may as well be partying it up.
Q: So then, there is no Hell either?
Rutherford: Oh YES there is! But, it isn't what humans think it is!
Q: Explain, please?
Russell: It isn't a place of eternal burning. It is a state of continual seeking to make sense of who God is and what He wants mankind to do. Actually, Jerry doesn't have a clue what He really wants to do.
Rutherford: Yes, He seems to be sulking right now. He won't even talk to humans.
Russell: Not entirely or precisely accurate, Judge! What the Judge fails to tell you is that Jerry sometimes will whisper "inspirations" into men's ears and convince them of this or that to start a new religion going and see what kind of marvellous ideas they come up with.
Rutherford: Like hiring scriptwriters for a movie.
Russell: I suppose you could say that.
Q: Such as?
Rutherford: He really liked what Muhammed did with some the ideas Jerry gave him. Went out and conquered most of the world.
Russell: But, Joseph Smith was a favorite for awhile too, don't forget.
Rutherford: Not as much as you were, Pastor. Don't be modest!
Russell: Oh my---well, I suppose I should be straightforward and admit I was a favorite of His for awhile.
Rutherford: Not JUST you! He really liked my style too.....for awhile!
Q: Are you both saying that God.....er...Jerry has set into motion first one religion and then another and another all through history JUST TO OCCUPY HIS MIND and prevent boredom---but--that He tires of all of them???
Rutherford: I'd say that's pretty much it.
Russell: Yes, time is really nagging at Jerry. He is very sick of it!
Rutherford: Even tried to commit suicide back in the day.
Q: WHAAAT? WHEN?
Russell: You know the story---He got Himself crucified!
Rutherford: Tried every way He could to get Himself done in! That Pontius Pilate was annoying the hell out of Jerry trying to get Him acquitted.
Q: I can't believe what I'm hearing! Jerry was Jesus?
Russell: Just one aspect of Jerry's Multiple Personality Syndrome.
Rutherford: Jesus was killed. Now the other aspects of Jerry's infinite imagination memorialize Him by pretending Jesus is still alive.
Russell: That is oversimplifying! It is more complicated than that.
Q: Explain.....that is....if you can.
Russell: Jerry is depressed, confused, bored and pretty unstable. He has done everything there is to do to keep His sanity by staying busy. But, like most superintelligent egos---He tires easily of the same old same old.
Rutherford: That is true! Then, He starts messing with what He has going and confuses the hell out of people, animals and Earth itself!
Q: I just don't know what to make of this.....I don't know what else to ask.....so much to think about and reflect upon.....
Russell: I'm surprised you didn't ask about Satan!
Q: OH! Yes, please tell me---is there a real devil?
Rutherford: Nobody knows for sure. Nobody has ever seen the devil. We only hear rumors from the angels that all is not as it seems.
Russell: Yes, most angels will not discuss Him-whose-name-must-not-be-mentioned without trembling.
Rutherford: My own opinion is that this is just another of Jerry's darker personality disorders at play.
Russell: Perhaps....perhaps.....difficult to surmise.
Q: I think after this conversation I know even less than I did before it began. Have the two of you been involved in any SANE aspects of the Preaching work among the group Jehovah's Witnesses?
Russell: Yes, I write "New Light" doctrines and Joe changes them!
Rutherford: Ha ha ha ha---that's a good one. ha ha ha ha.
Q: Is that true?
Rutherford: Certainly not. I suspect Freddy is in charge of that.
Q: And Fred Franz is where?
Russell: Nobody knows....but...strangely----whenever Freddy is mentioned all the angels tremble..........
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22
What is REALLY behind the destruction of the Postal Service? I decided to research it ...
by Terry ini don't know about you - but i never know when i'm being lied to or told the truth any longer.
partisans are tribes warring on truth.
i decided to see what i could find out historically and this is what i've come up with.
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Terry
That's a great answer to a question nobody asked :)
Now that a few days have passed - the story in the news has now devolved into an investigation of mismanagement.
I miss the days of frantic headlines about the "little rocket man" in N. Korea :)
It's hard to sell good news. -
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Bewildering Background revealing who stopped slavery in the world
by Terry inbewildering background.
even among the greatest religious thinkers and moral philosophers of civilizations around the world for 1000’s of years slavery was not considered a moral issue.. only one civilization developed a “moral revulsion” against it very late in its history:western civilization.. abraham lincoln said:if slavery is not considered wrong; nothing can be considered as wrong.. but why did not even the leading moralists among other nations and civilizations reject slavery at all?.
there is no evidence that slavery came under attack in any other part of the world before the 18th century.
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Terry
Being "mainstream" is hardly ever a good thing in the long run. "Everybody's doing it" is the argument of a child who wants license to misbehave.
The oddball, the quirky, the iconoclast, the reformer - hardly ever mainstream. -
8
When Russell Met Rutherford (A Play)
by Terry inthe scene openssetting: beth sarim is a ten-bedroom mansion in san diego, california________curtain rises.
night has come to beth sarim mansion as president joe rutherford (the "judge") sits cleaning his pistol and sipping whisky from a flask on the edge of his silk sheets at bedtime.
(rutherford heads up the watchtower bible & tract society).. there is a knock at the bedroom door.____________.
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Terry
I guess with the pandemic we'll have to go for a teleplay on Netflix rather than a local repertory.
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Terry
“There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.”
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8
When Russell Met Rutherford (A Play)
by Terry inthe scene openssetting: beth sarim is a ten-bedroom mansion in san diego, california________curtain rises.
night has come to beth sarim mansion as president joe rutherford (the "judge") sits cleaning his pistol and sipping whisky from a flask on the edge of his silk sheets at bedtime.
(rutherford heads up the watchtower bible & tract society).. there is a knock at the bedroom door.____________.
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Terry
It would be a hoot to see a repertory company performance :)
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8
When Russell Met Rutherford (A Play)
by Terry inthe scene openssetting: beth sarim is a ten-bedroom mansion in san diego, california________curtain rises.
night has come to beth sarim mansion as president joe rutherford (the "judge") sits cleaning his pistol and sipping whisky from a flask on the edge of his silk sheets at bedtime.
(rutherford heads up the watchtower bible & tract society).. there is a knock at the bedroom door.____________.
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Terry
THE SCENE OPENS
Setting: Beth Sarim is a ten-bedroom mansion in San Diego, California
________
Curtain risesNight has come to Beth Sarim mansion as President Joe Rutherford (the "Judge") sits cleaning his pistol and sipping whisky from a flask on the edge of his silk sheets at bedtime. (Rutherford heads up the Watchtower Bible & Tract Society).
There is a knock at the bedroom door.
____________"Come!" the Judge growls.
The finely polished door opens and into his bedchambers steps a newly resurrected Charles Taze Russell with full beard (minus mustache). He is naked as a jaybird.
(Russell is the founder of the Watchtower Society. After his death, Rutherford inveigled his way to the Presidency.)Rutherford glances up and spills his flask, dropping the pistol to the floor. The gun hits on the cocked hammer and a bullet whizzes through Russell's beard penetrating the oak door jam.
"Great Zion!, what's going on here?" The Judge roars as he woozily tries to leap to his feet.
"Oh, stifle it Joe. I'm an Ancient Worthy returning to claim the mansion. I want you out now!" Russell scratches the hole in his beard and saunters over to the chest of drawers next to Rutherford's bed and begins opening drawers.
"Ah, pajamas!" Russell grins.
"Stop! STOP! You..you maniac...I'll have you arrested!"
The Judge screams and then suddenly pauses in mid breath to appraise the figure before him. It dawns on him quickly----the man really is Charley Russell! Immediately his legs lose strength and he falls back on the bed. The whiskey flask catapults into the air and clunks him on the forehead with a "ping"."Oh, dear Lord...oh dear Lord..." this is terrible...just terrible..."
"What's terrible about me returning, Joe? You told everyone at the assemblies the Ancient Worthies would return."
"No, not that", Rutherford groans, "I spilled my whiskey all over the sheets. It was my last till the new shipment comes in from Canada. Ohhhh ..."
Russell begins tugging on his pajamas.
"What's so bad about that, Joe?"
"PROHIBITION, that's what's bad about it! Started 5 years ago. Those idiots made it illegal to buy or manufacture alcoholic beverages!!"
Rutherford sits up and rubs the bump on his head, then, slyly grins at the sight of Charles Taze Russell wearing his polka dot silk pajamas."What's so funny, Joe?"
"Heh he he, you are one scrawny sumbitch! Always looked anemic to me." (His smile fades.) "Say, why don't you have a Perfect Body?"
Russell finds a chair near the bed and scoots it across the fine Turkish carpet and seats himself next to Rutherford's bed knee to knee.
"Listen, Judge, there are more things in heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy".
"Huh?"
"Shakespeare....I think."
Russell begins weaving the hairs of his beard into little Hassidic braids and then unwinding them as he speaks."Joe Rutherford, listen to me. I speak in the name of our Lord as his Faithful and Wise Servant...."
The Judge interrupts."No no no. Now just hold on a second. That's not kosher anymore. We changed all that. You aren't the mouthpiece of Jah---I AM!"
Russell glares and stands up looking down on Rutherford's bald pate.
He points a bony finger in his eye."You sir---are a THIEF...a common thief! You were NOT designated to take over the corporation. It was in my will!! You are not my APPOINTED successor. By what right do you make changes?"
The old voice is shrill and raspy and the eyes bulging from their watery sockets.Rutherford jumps to his feet and pushes the bony finger aside and walks past Russell to the doorway. He opens the door and points to the empty space in the hallway.
"Get out you grey-beard loony!"
Russell doesn't budge.
He smiles and sits down on the whiskey flask. Flinches, pulls it out of his behind and tosses it at Rutherford.Rutherford closes the door calmly and sits in the chair where Russell had been sitting.
"Now look, Charley, what I did was LEGAL and pretty damned clever. I pulled a finesse. You know what a legal finesse is? (Russell is motionless). "I'll tell you what it is....it is an indication that I'm the one with the brains to get this religion into mainstream on a paying basis. We've pretty much used up your personal fortune. Now it is time for the brethren to give back. I've given them work to do that generates some real cash flow!"
Russell lies back on the cushy swan's down pillow and crosses his ankles staring up at the canopy over the bed. He purses his lips and then turns his head to Rutherford.
"Racketeer would be more accurate than thief. You are a racketeer, Joe. You want to take what was a beautiful idea and turn it into a racket; a---what did you call it? Ah yes, a 'mainstream" religious sect...or cult. Why? Why would you destroy my work like this? Just for money?"
Rutherford stands up and his eyes grow very large. He holds his index finger aloft and shouts, "Bingo!"
He climbs up on the chair and reaches into the light fixture. Pulling out a small flask of whiskey he pulls the cork and chugs back a gulp. "Ahhh.""Now, what were you blathering about, Pastor Russell? I'm a what? A crook? A Racketeer? Pot calling the kettle black, if you ask me."
He climbs down off the chair and takes another hit from the whiskey and replaces the cork."Follow me old man!" Rutherford leaves the bedroom without looking back.
_______The two men reach the bottom of the stairs and Rutherford gestures broadly to Russell.
"You see all this? It isn't for you as an Ancient Worthy. It is really for me. The boys at Bethel wanted to get me out of their hair. Why? Because I'm tough and foul-mouthed? No, because I don't put up with crap like YOU DID!"
Rutherford leads Russell throughout the mansion stopping now and again to point out the valuables, antiques, carpets, silverware and crystal as he speaks. Russell peers approvingly each time and nods in appreciation.
"Pastor, you poured a King's Ransom into the Bible Students and what good did it do? No, don't answer--I'll tell you. You fed a lot of people a load of crap and nothing more. But, you did do one thing right. You got people busy. Busy Christians are valuable as an asset to the corporation".
They stroll into the garden area and the men pause in front over the various floral groups and hedges as they chat.
"Now Pastor, it doesn't really matter much that you got them all excited for nothing---I mean, Armageddon didn't come in 1874, did it? You thought it would and even promised God told you it would--don't deny it! Do you know what year it is now?"
Russell shrugs. "Last time I glanced at the calendar - it was ... October, I916."
"Ha ha ha ha ha. No, you bewhiskered old fool---it is 1925!!! You've been dead NINE years! And, guess what? There is STILL NO ARMAGEDDON! Ha."
Russell, truly bewildered, begins to weep but no water comes out of his eyes.
"That cannot be true, Joe. It cannot be true. I am alive! That means the resurrection has happened if I was dead. No Armageddon? How?"
Rutherford motions for him to sit on a concrete bench in front of a flowing fountain. The evening air is turning brisk in Southern California. The stars begin to show in a clear sky. Somewhere a dog begins yapping at a noisy neighbor.
"Sit here Charley. Here, have a snort of rye whiskey. It will put whiskers on your balls!"
Russell turns his head disgustedly.
"Fine, more for me then." Rutherford takes a slug of rye and wipes his lips.
"Here is how the cow eats the cabbage. Listen up and be quiet."
Rutherford stands and begins an impromptu lecture, as though he were in front of a jury of tired old businessmen."Your money is the only thing that carried you as far as you went, Charles. Or, Pastor Charles, if you like. That money - and your wife, Maria!"
Russell gives him a poisonous look and grunts in disgust.
"Stings you to hear it? Well, it is true. It was Maria who came up with the doctrine of Faithful and Wise Servant and she applied it to you. That made you a product, a Brand Name, if you will. You became the Mouthpiece of the Lord. Your money, your publishing company and your colporteurs advertised the Pyramid nonsense and made it work. Ya got people all stirred up and Millennial. Don't deny it."
Russell opens his mouth to protest, thinks the better of it and motions for Rutherford to finish with a wave of his hand.
"People love END TIMES. It is delicious and exciting. They get themselves all in a lather about the coming of the Lord. Ya know why? I"ll tell you and you know in your heart it is true. People love to get worked up over the Armageddon business because it is the only damned thing that can make them feel like this bible crap IS REAL!!"
Russell leaps to his feet in a self-righteous zeal, "Stop that blasphemy you contemptible cur! Don't speak about our Lord's revealed word in such a venal tone! He will strike you dead on the spot!"
Rutherford makes a mocking face and smiles, "Okay, Strike me down now, Lord----if you are up there--out there, over there----umm, where exactly is the Lord this evening, Pastor?"
Russell pulls himself up to full height and tilts his head back in disdain.
"MY Lord is watching you and weighing every word that falls from your blasphemous lips. You have been weighed in the balance and found lacking!"Judge Rutherford pulls back his smoking jacket and points to his cummerbund with the holster.
"See this pistol, Pastor, that is the only word of the Lord that can speak around here."Russell points to the empty holster.
"Oh!" The Judge mutters with surprise. "I forgot I wounded your beard with it. Sorry about that. You startled me."
_______Russell beckons for the Judge to sit beside him in a gazebo near the center of the flowered walkway. The Pastor speaks quietly building up a head of steam as he goes.
_________"I sincerely believed every word I wrote or spoke in my lifetime. You wouldn't understand that, would you? No, you are a lawyer. A lawyer is all about getting a thing done regardless of it being right or wrong. A judge, in fact, is the one who decides what is right and wrong--does he not? You speak it---and it is now a legal truth. That has obviously become a habit in your thinking."
Rutherford burps.
"Judge, you are an ambitious and ruthless fellow who saw a good thing with certain potential and you found a .....for want of a better word..."legal" way of stealing it. Yes, I said STEALING. I specified in my will who should succeed me and you invalidated my wishes. The corporation was mine, bought with my money and hard work---and you have destroyed my life's creation."
Rutherford sneers at this.
"Ho ho ho, I see you admit it is YOUR creation and none of the Lord's doing."Russell turns defiantly.
"The Lord used me as his instrument to prepare the way for his Kingdom. I prepared people and made certain their attention was on His coming. I pointed the way like John the Baptist did....""Ha!"
Rutherford spits the words out of his mouth along with a sip of whiskey.
"Ha! You were wrong about every thing you were CERTAIN you were right about. If the Lord were working through you He was himself a bumbling fool."Russell, aghast, can only shake his head painfully.
______
A chill flows through the garden and the gazebo begins to move slightly as a breeze catches the leaves and flowers. Rutherford continues.
_____
"You sponsored the most convincing Adventist fanatics with their charts, timelines, chronologies and such. Do you know why? Well, I do. It was because your Mother coddled you too much. She'd had so many miscarriages and you alone had survived! She filled your head with Hellfire fears! Right? You knew her fanaticism was extreme so--you chose a kinder and gentler Jesus. Your father's business success taught you how to organize people to work for you. SELLING - SELLING- always selling your No-Hell nonsense to empty-headed rubes."______
Russell is shivering in the cold now, half-distracted.
He sticks out his lower lip and reaches for Rutherford's whiskey bottle.
The Judge passes it approvingly to the old Pastor and watches with a fatherly smile as the old man chokes down a warm glow of Prohibition Booze.
______"You didn't know my mother, Joe. She was a pistol. All she talked about was Hell this and Hell that. She scared sweet Jesus out of me. The Scottish version of hellfire is the worst."
_____Rutherford takes the bottle back and corks it.
He pauses to gaze up at the night sky that looks now like spilled talcum powder on a black suit. Shaking his head to clear it, he continues in a moderate tone of assured confidence.
_____"You built a religion and a Jesus who didn't scare you and who offered a nice reward without hellfire. You had to convince yourself first -- and you found people with a salesman's glib patter who could make it sound real. The invisible Jesus who rules now is a real twist of genius. But, you fumbled it badly Charley, you really dropped the ball. You became over confident that your writings were
the whispers of God.You didn't know any more than anybody else did. But you were a spoiled child who got his way. Finally, that silly Great Pyramid gave you a concrete (or should I say limestone?) masterpiece of bullshit to convince others.""Oh stifle, Judge. Just stifle." The pastor replied meekly. His face troubled and drawn.
"Ha! Maria figured you out pretty quick, didn't she? You were not a husband in the bedroom with her and she was willing to accept that until she caught you with that young girl---your ward--what was the name?"
"Shut up! You don't know what you are talking about! That was evil rumor and nothing more."
"Right, Pastor, and I'm not a drunken Judge either. But, I digress ... through your mismanagement of Miracle Wheat showing yourself to be a phony scholar on the witness stand unable to read simple Greek sentences - you blew your authenticity. Oh, but the faithful few still regarded you as all they had to point their way to the Promise. So many gullible folks stayed to see what you'd come up with next. But you disappointed them by dying on a choo-choo train on Halloween. That was callous of you, Charley. You ripped their hearts out and left them alone with an Unfinished Mystery titled, ironically:
The FINISHED MYSTERY. Ha!""Well," the Pastor began, "the Lord saw fit to take me unto him."
"Wh-a-a-t?" Rutherford looked mockingly quizzical. "Is this place heaven and am I the Lord?"
"I - I," the Pastor halted. "I ....I just don't know."
Rutherford beamed brightly.
"You never did 'Know', you old fool! You just THOUGHT you knew."
_____The two men slowly rose and walked back into the house out of the night air. They settle in at the vast kitchen area at the dining table. Rutherford pours them each a thick shot glass full of rye and they begin smoking long cigars from Cuba.
Thoughtfully, Russell begins to muse...
"Yes, I was convinced the Lord was speaking directly through me as his mouthpiece. You know what helped me believe that? Not the failed prophecies and the wrong dates, surely, but what really made me believe in myself was......the look in the eyes of the brethren when I met with them and spoke to them face to face. They looked at me AS THOUGH the Lord were speaking through me. You know what that feels like to a man like me? IT IS EVERYTHING!" He cooed wonderingly.Rutherford snorts dismissively.
"Oh I saw that myself. I personally HATED IT. Those people are idiots. I'd rather do what Machiavelli said. You know what he said? "I'd rather be feared and obeyed than loved." That is my motto. It works better than your method. I wear a pistol and I have bodyguards. I have a chauffeur and a flask of whisky. I turn my death ray of words on all my enemies. You know who my enemies are? The big-shots with all the fame, glory and money. I put myself right up there on their level ...You know how? I put myself HIGHER MORALLY than they are. I condemn them! It works, Charley, it works. They fear me and hate me. I'm pretty hot stuff as a result."Russell shakes his head and tugs his beard causing the few braids to fall out.
"It's all about you, then, Judge? The Lord is nowhere to be found?"Rutherford looks straight into Pastor Russell's watery eyes.
"It is all about POWER!
I now have the power to keep people busy and spread the brand name around and make it worth some real cash. I'm working on a real brand name to top the current bestseller: CHRISTIAN. You have to have a brand name, you see, to advertise and promote your goods. I sell hope and protection against the most fearsome of all adversaries. No, not Satan, but Jehovah himself!!
Jah can whoop Satan's ass in any barroom brawl and everybody knows it. I want people to fear the LORD HIMSELF. Then, I present myself as god's best friend and I'll put in a good word for them IF I approve of the work they are doing on my behalf.""Disgusting!"
Russell frowns and closes his eyes in pain. He rubs his temples and heaves a long sigh."No, it works. My new brand name will be revealed eventually when I work out the kinks in the theology of it all. It will contain the divine name, though, I'm sure of that. A real attention-getter. For now, I have to find ways of setting the new brand off from the competition. You see, our religion has to have not only a brand name, but, a different quality to it. Our brothers and sisters have to appear more devoted, faithful and righteous than mainstream Christianity. We'll get lots of publicity each time they don't salute a flag, don't say the pledge, don't celebrate a birthday, don't go for Christmas and Easter or serve in the armed forces. We'll get free publicity everywhere because.......you know why? Do you? Because people will HATE US for being so superior! Ha ha ha ha. Why, we'll even be willing to die for our faithful stand!"
Russell can stand no more. He jumps up and pushes the dining chair back away from the table.
"You must be stopped, Judge. You are dangerous. You've wrecked everything I ever stood for. I'm going to stop you."
______
Rutherford beckons for Russell to follow. They climb the stairs. Re-entering the bedroom, Rutherford reaches down on the floor and picks up his pistol. He checks the cylinder to determine how many bullets remain.
______"Pastor Russell, I misjudged you. Which is ironic for a man called JUDGE, is it not?" Rutherford chuckles out loud having a good laugh, then continues.
"I buried you and your faithful and wise servant image. I've taken it upon myself and the other boys who do my bidding. We're in the process of scuttling the Great Pyramid teachings too. We are replacing your work with a real campaign of door to door work that will bring Christendom to its knees. I prefer the time-tested formula of CARROT AND STICK. Paradise and Heaven are the CARROT and Armageddon is the STICK. I'll play up one and balance it with the other over and over again. When the brethren get sluggish or backslide I'll pull out the stick you used inadvertently: DATE SETTING! That will bring the money flowing in. When the date comes and goes without anything happening---well, I'll do what you always did: I'll be humble and show how eager we were for Christ's promises to come now. I'll even turn it back on them if they get surly about it. A certain amount of turnover is to be expected in every business...um, I mean, Religion."
Russell, aghast, reaches for the telephone...but, Rutherford points the pistol at his face and shakes his head from side to side menacingly.
"I wouldn't do that, Pastor. You only live twice, you know."Russell decides the Judge is bluffing and picks up the receiver anyway.
"Last chance, Pastor, I mean it. I don't know how you alone came back to life or why you are here, but, I can't let you stop my success from happening. I'm a mover and a shaker and things are starting to move. People will believe ANYTHING you tell them if you put fear behind it."
Russell turns to leave.
"I can't listen to any more of this. You are obviously quite insane."As Russell reaches the door, the sound of three loud blasts shake the windows and echoes against the wood paneling. Russell falls to the floor with a loud thump and groans once ... then twice ... and a death rattle brings only silence.
Rutherford watches impassively as the gun smoke swirls in curlicues around him. He reaches for the tug cord and summons the help. Perhaps his chauffeur can lift this old man into a gunny sack and dump him in the Pacific Ocean before sunrise.
Rutherford takes another long swig on the bottle and lays down upon the bed to rest for a moment as the sound of footsteps running up the stairs is heard.
"Sir? Sir? Judge, sir? You rang for me, sir?"
The voice wakes Rutherford from a deep and troubled slumber."Huh, the hell you say?" Rutherford's eyes open like a newly born kitten.
"What are you blubbering about?""Sir, you summoned me. Did you have another of your nightmare's sir? If I might caution you sir, that bootleg booze can be quite deadly, you know. Homemade booze has poisoned many people. It is in the papers. Really sir, you should be more careful. Wait for the shipment to come in from Canada."
Rutherford pushes the man away. "Remove the body, will you? Before sunrise?"
"What body, sir?"
The two men stand for a long while - each staring at an empty spot on the floor.
Curtain falls
_________