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04/09/00 Of Vice And Men By Eddie Nambulous Am I the only one among us who worries about this American obsession with gambling? I don't mean the concept of gambling resorts. Hey, I'm as susceptible to bright lights, all-you-can-eat buffets and sequined showgirls as the next guy. And of course there's my internet gambling scheme in order to sustain this little operation. But what I address here is the relatively recent proliferation of legalized gambling in this country and the rampant greed it seems to encourage. From Vegas to Atlantic City, from Native American reservations in sleepy Connecticut to the heart of New Orleans. I mean New Orleans, one of the few places we've got left that's practically built on spirituality, is attracting a whole new breed of tourist thanks to legalized gambling on the waterfront. And what's up with these burgeoning state lotteries? Ever pop into an all-night market for a simple bottle of unpolluted water only to get stuck at the register behind a line of sleepwalkers waiting for their turn at the lottery machine, paycheck in hand? We're turning into a nation of automatons, going through our days chasing a pathetic paycheck, oblivious to what's really going on, just hoping and praying that we might luck out and become an instant millionaire. As if money can save us, right? Some states have six, seven, eight major games a night. Millions upon millions coming in on a daily basis. And we all know that if they're supposedly awarding a few million a night, they're taking in a hell of a lot more than we'll ever know. So where's all that income going? We're not naive enough to believe that anything more than a few lousy bucks makes it into social programs. Believe me, we'd all die of dehydration before any of that money trickled down to the common man. They've made damn sure that money makes our world go 'round, yet it's all fool's gold in the end, as far as I'm concerned. What sparks these particular thoughts, fellow freedom fighters, is Cade's recent investigation of the Winchala reservation, a Native American community that had been wrestling with the question of whether or not to permit legalized gambling to overrun their territories. (cont). The Winchala are specifically referenced by Nostradamus. Couldn't imagine why at first, but it didn't take too long for our man Cade to get to the bottom of things. My first thought was that the Gua were setting up a new base for some good old-fashioned R and R, trying to create their own kind of extraterrestrial resort where they could chill out and get funky. But, as well all know by now, the Gua don't rest. And, needless to say, they aren't particularly concerned with our monetary system. The goal is to manipulate us. Unfortunately, they've figured out that the green stuff still seems to work best on a lot of our Earth brothers. Hey, the guys in charge have even got us hunting each other down for money! I don't have all of the details yet, but somebody put a price out on Cade's head. That's right, our boy made Bounty Hunters Monthly. They're offering a sizable cash reward, so we're bound to get a few morons on his trail. Deer season must be over, so there's got to be a dimwit or two out there looking for new prey and a few bucks. I don't doubt for a second that Cade can handle it --- with a little help from yours truly --- but with the Gua on his trail, it'd be cooler if he didn't have to worry about some backwoods vigilante with a small arsenal and dollar signs in his eyes. On his first day at the Winchala reservation, Cade arrived posing as reporter for The Gaming Chronicles. (How he gets away with that kind of crap, I don't know. Must be the pretty face.) After a couple of conversations with the relevant parties, our guy got the lay of the land. For the Winchala, there'd been a pretty intense battle going on --- between past and future, between tradition and progress. On the side of tradition was Lone Tree --- an extremely spiritual guy, but damned difficult to deal with, from what Cade said. Guess that comes from years of being surrounded by bull. Turns out Lone Tree used to be a lawyer. On the pro-gambling side, there was some sleaze-ball named Alex. Cade smelled Gua from the moment he met the guy. As for me, I never doubted for a second that our very own "twice-blessed man" had more than the spirit needed to beat the house at its own game. Be warned, readers: If you have to play the numbers, best of luck to you, but never ante up your spiritual side. Once you lose that, it's damn near impossible to win it back. READ CADE'S CORRESPONDING JOURNAL
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