27. It must be HIM or I shall die

A cruel war was raging relentlessly in my mind. The rational side of my brain was doing battle with my restless spirit that wanted to run free, expose evil and bring justice. The creative, emotional part of me saw the world through different eyes and wanted to change it for the better.

On radio I overheard a conversation about being a father. A panel of men spoke of their experiences. Callers, mostly males, phoned in and told listeners how they enjoyed being a father. It all sounded so positive, as if a culture change had taken place in Australia for the better. I emailed the program while it was still on-air.


Hi all,

Listening to your program this week would have cured fathers suffering from Asthma. All that fresh air!!!


Yesterday I could have cried when I drove past a child care centre and read:

"From 6 weeks to 5 years".


If I was Prime Minister I would outlaw such practice. The children should stay with their mother in a secure, caring, loving home, until they are old enough to make a choice.


How many would choose to go to childcare at 6 weeks - not many - guaranteed!


Kind regards from Adelaide

Dieter Rolf Fischer

PS  The other day a family expert was promoting families to eat together.

It would really be a revolution, if a clergyman would come forward and suggest a bible-reading afterward, plus a prayer for each other and your neighbour!

Let's ask teenagers what they think of the idea. WW 3 - bring it on!



I had claimed to be of sound mind. Without emptying myself every morning before God on my knees and asking for HIS help, I would not have won the battle raging inside the mind. Health experts can only do so much. Tablets have their limitations and side effects. God’s health care plan has neither limitations nor side effects.      

While humans tried to alert me to potential danger on the path I was taking, God let me know that he was there too, watching me, guiding me and confirming my action. The following, seemingly insignificant event took place while reading the newspaper. I emailed it as part of a longer message to the Family Standards organization:


Hi Rita,

I was going to email the following little incident to the Advertiser. But then decided to just tell you (and David), people who know me and can trust.

It’s unbelievable, that's why I’m reluctant to email it, and Isobel has already laughed at me.

I was reading the paper as I ate breakfast this morning Thu 08/01/04. On page 32 a woman in the US won 210 million (name, photo, city all the details). I pondered about how true the story is, perhaps it's all made up?

Just then a small spider (size of a 5 cent coin) ran fast across the page. I quickly shut the paper and squashed it together to make sure he’s dead. I got a tissue to remove it and noticed the peculiarity. Straight cross from page 32 is page 65 (it's the way the papers are assembled). - The headline on page 65 read: "Spider bites".

How unreal !! If these co-incidences would not happen so frequently, I'd just smile and forget them.



One area, which had previously been pure speculation, had risen to another level of significance. I was almost hundred percent sure that when I sent a crazy letter or email and heard a reference to it a day later during a radio broadcast, it was simply because I was taken more seriously than before.


What had started years earlier as a jovial interpretation during a “mental upset” had turned into a sport. I was sure a certain radio station referred to “it” as basketball or football. I was a one-man team, manager, coach and player all-in-one. Surprisingly, it looked like our team was winning. It wasn’t really a solo act; rather a father and son combination; an extra-ordinary partnership scoring one ‘run’ after another. (If you pardon the ‘run’ pun. In the game of cricket, runs are scores on the board).   


In between runs (or walks) I was having fun writing. One Saturday I was listening to the radio between driving lessons. The presenter was exploring the pronunciation of words – Chile, anti-Semitic, Notre Dame, restaurateur and disassociate are the few I remembered. I scribbled them quickly onto some paper, while stopped at the traffic lights.


My creative brain came up with the following letter. It may sound humourous, but I trust you sense the seriousness of the message behind it. (The lettering is in part italic for a good reason). 



New Invention - feedback required


Dear ...,

On Sat. 3/4/1804 I listened to your station. Around 10.15am I neglected my duty of driving badly by writing a few notes, while stopped at the traffic lights. This memo is the result of these notes.


I am an inventor who produced a number of useful products. As “outside the box” people like me find very often, those stuck inside it might as well live on the moon. My ideas have as yet not been appreciated by the public to the extent that I think they deserve.


My latest is a PC program that automatically translates anything typed as untrue - into italic. Hence the changed fants (sorry fonts) in this letter. If the writer is wrong, but thinks his writing is correct, letters alternate between italic/straight/italic/straight. - got it?


The following is a practical demonstration how my invention works:


Let me tell you about a teacher I had when I was 15. He lived 35 years in Chile, from where he got his anti-Semitic ideas. One year he took a small group of us to Paris. The highlight of the trip was Notre-Dame. I had never been there, so was disappointed, because it was all in a mess. As I did in Casablanca once at the world’s second largest mosque, I had a bright idea - why not ask a worker (a restaurateur on the site) and ask for a little piece of stone from the huge building as “free souvenir”. I still have it (the one from Morocco on my mantelpiece) which I regularly use for any show and tell.


I was working on a grading system, that increases the italic fond according to the severity of the lie told and minimizes truth when it’s really true. But when I read in the bible that even a little lie is in need of Gods forgiveness, I dis-associated (or is it dissociate) myself from this idea.


Do you think the invention is worth pursuing? I could do with some cash. I need money for a lawyer, but you know as it is. I am scared to even shake hands with that type. Who knows, the fifty dollar unexplained charge on the invoice, may have been automatically generated following my friendly gesture. (The legal system is a classic example where right is punished and wrong defended for big money).


Please let me know, somehow, what you think. Do I need to work on it further or is the world not yet ready for such revolutionary concept? Some people love their white lines (sorry white lies) above anything, despite risking eternal damnation. The whole world is full of gamblers like that.


I shall keep listening to your station (and looking out for police) with my notepad and pen ready at the traffic lights. Anyone for truth? I’d consider going 50/50.


Kind regards

Dieter Winston Fischer


PS  The reason I include a PS in most letters - I read somewhere that people always read it.


This letter was inspired after waking at 3.15 am on 04/04/04 - and generated automatically. We don’t take any responsibility for attacks of belly-laughter or any distress caused by this document.





Sitting in the German Club one evening before choir practice, I had a few moments to quickly read the weekly German-language newspaper “die Woche”. I spotted a small item in the Austrian section. It contained numbers, interesting numbers. This must have been the reason I took note. The numbers didn’t add up in relation to the story told. The next day I sent the following email to a radio station. To save time I combined a few doubtful observations I had made in the press or on radio:.



Hi all,

A story out of Adelaide about the kidnapping of a young Asian woman for ransom had my antenna of suspicion rise up right from the start last Friday morning.

It all has ended happily, that's good.

My question is - when is a crime, such as this one, or the disappearance of three boys a few weeks earlier, declared a major crime? Both of these were declared major crimes within hours. The disappearance of a suspected drug dealer (Jason Plewis, from a house in my neighbourhood) took months to be announced as major?

Another burning question to do with crime and reporting? Under what circumstances is a "media black-out" warranted? Who decides when such measure is imposed and is there an appeal by journalists in place to challenge its validity to ensure the rights of information for the public?

Why am I always asking the hard questions?

Perhaps I should stick to simple subjects, like "the meaning of life"?

Kind regards

Dieter Rolf Fischer

PS Here is a puzzle for you - In the German paper "die Woche" (13.4.04 - P. 7) it is reported that 100 rabbits are run over daily by cars in Upper Austria. This is reported to be 1/5th of all rabbits (presumed killed). There are only 35 000 of them left. How long before they are extinct?

a) 70 days b) 70 days or c) 70 days?



Mathematics had never been my strong point, but common sense has. Reader may well ask where the logic was in all of this. Was it common sense to have an opinion on everything, translate it into a joke and email it to the world? There were many moments when I doubted my course of action; when I was tempted to listen to that accusing voice that tries to convince me that I am just on a big ego trip and liked to grandstand at every opportunity.

But in weeks to come (around Easter 2004) I was to experience God again in unmistakable ways. For the first time I would experience that fellow-Christians were taking me seriously. Were readers of my story really convinced that I was genuine? Did believers finally view me above and beyond the comical wrapping and saw a creative mind behind it all?

If people were touched by my writing, if hungry souls found food, if broken relationships were restored, if believers were inspired to rededicate their lives to God, then my prayers during all those years was bearing fruit. By faith I believed that this was happening. I had no idea to what extend this was happening. I’d rather not know. I may become proud. 

One of my sons recently poked his head around the corner, checking if the P/C was available. He must have been talking to Isobel about me. When he found out, he could not go online for an hour or so, he made a revealing comment:

“Dad, you live such a boring life, why don’t you go out a bit more?” 

“Yeah, right, son. I was thinking of taking up basket ball. But I'm not tall enough.”


Chapter 28