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I mention this to show the hardships of a soldier's life, and the difficulties of inculcating business methods into the minds of the saloon-keepers. Oppenheimer meant well, but he did not appreciate cheers for the Union.
Oh, no; California is civilized. There is no such law on the statute books. It is a cruel and unusual punishment, and no modern state would be guilty of such a law. Nevertheless, in the history of California I am the third man who has been condemned for life to solitary confinement. The other two were Jake Oppenheimer and Ed Morrell.
Not until that night, when Pie-Face Jones came on duty and proceeded to steal his customary naps, were Morrell and Oppenheimer able to do any talking. "Pipe dreams," Oppenheimer rapped his verdict. Yes, was my thought; our experiences are the stuff of our dreams. "When I was a night messenger I hit the hop once," Oppenheimer continued.
And then, no sooner out of jacket and circulation restored, than I started knuckle-rapping the information. Further, I taught Oppenheimer the chess Adam Strang had played in Cho-Sen centuries agone. It was different from Western chess, and yet could not but be fundamentally the same, tracing back to a common origin, probably India. In place of our sixty-four squares there are eighty-one squares.
The power of the bomb was estimated to be equal to 20,000 tons of TNT, or equivalent to the bomb load of 2,000 B-29, Superfortresses! After witnessing the awesome blast, Oppenheimer quoted a line from a sacred Hindu text, the Bhagavad-Gita: He said: "I am become death, the shatterer of worlds."
I guess that's what brought you here." Before I return to my adventures I am compelled to tell one remarkable incident that occurred in solitary. It is remarkable in two ways. It shows the astounding mental power of that child of the gutters, Jake Oppenheimer; and it is in itself convincing proof of the verity of my experiences when in the jacket coma.
Jake Oppenheimer rapped his laughter thirteen cells away. "You see, that's Jake's trouble," Morrell went on. "He can't believe. That one time he tried it he was too strong and failed. And now he thinks I am kidding." "When you die you are dead, and dead men stay dead," Oppenheimer retorted. "I tell you I've been dead three times," Morrell argued.
You know there are cases of people who have slept a whole year at a time. That's the way it will be with your body. It just stays there in the jacket, not hurting or anything, just waiting for you to come back. "You try it. I am giving you the straight steer." "And if he don't come back?" Oppenheimer, asked. "Then the laugh will be on him, I guess, Jake," Morrell answered.
He listened to a call that came in for Adam Lowiewski, the mathematician. "This is Joe," the caller said. "I've got to go to town late this afternoon, but I was wondering if you'd have time to meet me at the Recreation House at Oppenheimer Village for a game of chess. I'm calling from there, now." "Fine; I can make it," Lowiewski's voice replied.
One popular account attributes the name to J. Robert Oppenheimer, the scientific head of the Manhattan Project. According to this version, the well read Oppenheimer based the name Trinity on the fourteenth Holy Sonnet by John Donne, a 16th century English poet and sermon writer. The sonnet started, "Batter my heart, three-personed God."
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