It was a beautiful, sunny day in Ann Arbor with the temperature in the mid-thirties. Professor Bradley Fletcher, who loved the cool fresh air, had the windows cracked open to his office on the seventh floor of the law school’s research “stacks,” as they were called. Actually, this part of the law school resembled, at least from the inside, a series of dark dungeons, filled with narrow aisles, each with dim-flickering florescent lights that barely illuminated the thousands upon thousands of books, leaflets, and other variously-bound papers, seemingly “stacked” on shelf after shelf, rising from the floor to the ceiling.

Professor Fletcher’s office was not much more than a large cubical built into one end of the stacks. In front of his office was an even smaller room that served as the secretarial station. Behind Bradley’s office was a door that led to a little-used stairwell (and largely forgotten since everyone used the elevator at the opposite end of the stacks) that the professors once used to move from floor to floor of the library without bother from students.

Bradley had just pulled out his Mac and his screen flashed with the title of his present article:

Jones v. Bouchard: The United Nations of America.

Bradley looked at his title and shook his head. In a way, he couldn’t believe what was happening. The Supreme Court had actually considered the opinion of the United Nations in deciding what the founding fathers intended when they penned the Second Amendment. This was beyond anything he had ever seen… though he had seen a lot in the last several years as the nation had been turned upside down since the Obama presidency.

Justice Ahmed had written in the majority opinion that the founding fathers intended the Constitution to be an evolving document, and since the world had evolved to embrace the principals of the United Nations, so America had to evolve to embrace the idea that some of its outdated rights must give way to the new world order.

The New World Order…

Fifteen years ago the simple mention of the idea got you branded a whack-job militia nut.

Now it was a foundational principal upon which American jurisprudence was based.

It made Bradley’s head spin.

And it was only the beginning.

The United Nations had just gone on record, claiming that “the United States discriminates against the rest of the world since the Bill of Rights applies only to Americans.” None of Bradley’s prodigious analytical skills could untangle what that meant.

Following the Supreme Court's decision, it had taken Congress only a matter of hours to debate and pass, in both houses, the Omnibus Un-American Act, and it had been signed into law the same day by Wallmire. The following day, yesterday, the U.N. had offered to send in “neutral” troops to perform the task of confiscating all privately-owned firearms. It was believed that Wallmire was going to use his 1,250,000 strong Domestic Defense Force, complete with Hellfire-armed attack helicopters.

Bradley was scared. Charlton Heston had famously quipped that the government would only get his gun from “my cold, dead hands.” He wondered how many Americans shared that view.

“Bradley, I’m freezing my you-know-what off. Would you please close the window? And your brother is on the line,” yelled Bradley’s secretary, Beth Simmons.

“Thanks. Sorry about the cold. Close the office door if you want, but I’ll close the window anyhow… and don’t wait so long to yell at me if you are cold. Okay?” Beth stepped in from her desk and closed the window before Bradley had a chance. She smiled as she headed back to her desk. “Thanks Beth,” Bradley turned his attention to the call. “Hi Bill. I told you so.”

“Yeah Yeah, little brother.”

Bradley rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He didn’t really hate being called “little brother,” but he could never come to like it, especially since it was one of Bill’s ways to jab him.

Bill said, “You were right—as usual. Do you really think the president will have the U.N. come in and confiscate guns?”

“Why? When he has his personal Domestic Defense Force that’s staffed with U.N. officers?”

“God,” Bill said, “it will start a riot, and we’ll be the ones to have to solve it.”

“Not a riot, Bill, a revolution. This is the most scary stuff I’ve ever seen. And the anti-gun left is on every news cast pleading: ‘if it will save just one life!’ Bill, we are going down the tubes.” Bradley wanted to say what he really thought, but Beth hadn’t closed the door between their offices. Bradley made a mental note to thank her since he knew that she kept the door open for his convenience (he disliked using the intercom) though she frequently got chilled from his open window.

“But how will all this start a revolution if Senators Elmer Kennison, Dianne Flamsteal, Lancy Pilltakesie, and Harriet Blead are being so effective? Doesn’t their effectiveness rule out any widespread opposition? I mean, they are getting the public to buy into it. Right?”

Bradley shifted the phone to the other ear. “The majority that watches tv, yes. The advocacy channels have over 40 million viewers at any given time compared to three million for Fox. Michael Savage has already been jailed for hate speech. And they are currently investigating Rush, Levin, Hannity, and Coulter. With talk radio off the air, there is simply no conservative answer. The public’s ability to think critically went out with the remote control. Still, the 76 million that voted against Wallmire are still out there somewhere. They can still think. Most of them are armed. And their backs are up against the wall…”