Karmic Tribunal - A Metaphysical & Political Satire


From the Assembly bench a clarion voice remarked, “My name is Amanda S. Makepeace. There are locations all over planet earth where souls who want to are making their judgments known. Each and everyone are being recorded in your Book of Life.”

Attempting to stand in protest, an energy barricade kept her seated. She grimaced as she mumbled, “This is unfair.”

Makepeace asked, “What isn’t fair?”

“All those people getting to…to condemn me.”

Ahah, I understand. You don’t believe every soul should have a free-will choice.” Peering down at the pages in front of her, she continued, “Yes, that is on the Agenda for our review.”

Struggling against the invisible barrier, she shouted, “I do believe in free-will!”

Glori S. Veracity stood. Although petite, her bearing suggested additional height. “That is highly questionable at this point Ms. Carstairs. The evidence will be examined. But since it appears we are going to be involved in this first item of business for a lengthy period, I believe we will introduce ourselves. There are ten of us because this committee represents the Wheel of Becoming and will determine which options you will be given in your next life.” Sitting, she instructed the others, “All please stand. Let’s begin on my left.”

Frustrated and confused, Henrietta stared wide-eyed as she gaped up at them.

First nodding his bewigged head towards the Chief Justice, he then spoke in a pronounced British accent, “I am Frank Lee Justman.”

Her bright pink sari clearly visible beneath her open fronted black robe, she touched the bindi dot between her eyebrows, and there was a serene smile on her lips when she reminded everyone. “I’ve already introduced myself, Amanda S. Makepeace.”

“As have I,” said Michael M. Upright in a deep baritone.

Standing, her hourglass figure couldn’t be hidden by her robe. In a slight southern twang, she said, “My name is Gale C. S. Balance.”

Slightly rumpled in appearance and with a tone of voice very much like the unionizer Jimmy Hoffa, who’d disappeared suspiciously decades ago, the next justice presented himself by saying only, “Ned Les Restrictions.”

Rather than wearing a robe, but dressed like the statue in the New York harbor including a crown and torch, the words, “Faith N. Liberty,” were pronounced in a clear voice.

Remaining quiet for a moment to assess the trio below him, a weather worn and wiry man finally said, “My name is Charles S. Probity.”

The youngest looking of the justices pushed up her sleeves revealing colorful tattoos on both forearms. “I’m called Desiree Properchild.”

Scratching at his clean-shaved chin and then wiping a palm over his head that shined much like an ebony bowling ball, the final justice remaining made himself known. “Last, but never least, my name is Respon Syble.”

Ego man sniggered at the names.

“Now, if everyone on the panel agrees, I will read out the list of complaints against Henrietta Radcliff Carstairs,” said Justice Probity.

Ten ayes were heard.

“Number One: Liar-Dissembler. Two: Dishonorable-Manipulator. Three: Warmonger-Imperialist. Four: Unjust. Five: Greedy-Oligarch-Plutocrat. Six: Fear-monger. Seven: Unethical. Eight: Without integrity. Nine: Cheater…”

“Stop this! Your allegations are vague, baseless, and unproven. I did a great deal to help people.”

Probity responded to her outburst. “Which is why so many people are offering their support to help with the karmic balancing. Every thought and action of your lifetime was written in your Book of Life—the akashic record. All mitigating circumstances will be weighed.” Chuckling he added, “You are fortunate we’re not going to be like the ancient Egyptians who used a feather as the balance.”

Henrietta’s Ego muttered in a stage whisper, “All of this delay is unconscionable.”

Frank Lee Justman retorted, “Unlike you, your Ego, and your colleagues, who wasted years reviewing, reporting, and having meetings rather than taking the actions required to resolve the lack of basic life necessities for all people on the planet, these lengthy deliberations will only affect you.”

Henrietta coughed, then choking sounds were released from her throat. Leaving his seat at the bench, Probity got close enough to examine her. His face was not expressive of concern, rather there was speculation in his eyes. “You are no longer physical, but you do have an etheric body—that’s what surrounds your physical self—and it’s connected to your astral body where your emotions are found.” Striding back to his seat, he called back over his shoulder, “You’ll calm down in a moment.”

COPYRIGHT 2016 by May Sinclair

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any known or to be invented, without the permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusions in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, dates, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

International Standard Book Number:


EAN-13 -978-1540339140

Printed in the United States of America

Book Cover:

Thumbnail from

Egyptian Book of the Dead

Best place to get paper version

Available at Amazon.com

The book is also available in electronic versions through Kindle, iBooks, Kobo, Tolino, Scribed, and Barnes & Noble.

Most people hate politicians—unless they are one.

Wouldn’t it be great to know that what goes around does come round? That politicians who make bold promises to secure their election would have to live with the consequences of their actions—or inactions—just like us ordinary people?

To balance the karma, the politician in this story, Henrietta Radcliff Carstairs has to review her life choices in a tribunal conducted between her last and next lifetime.

“…God forgives all.” “…true. However, your karma is not between

you and God…be judged on behalf of those who were affected…”

She gets several options and must choose which of the consequences she will experience in her next life, such as: By supporting unethical trade deals, she can choose to work in a sweatshop. Made war, bombed countries, thus could decide to reside in a country being bombed.

Which karma will she decide to balance?

O My Heart of my different ages! Do not stand up as a witness against me, do not be opposed to me in the tribunal…

…She did not go about with deceitful speech while she was on earth.

The Egyptian Book of the Dead

Alas, she did.


BOOM! The explosion was heard for miles.

Henrietta could see bodies and parts of bodies scattered all around. Something was odd. She was seeing them from above. Another weird thing, she could see through the smoke. The other curious part of it was she only heard silence.

Then she saw her own body. Some of it. Her head and chest. Arms and legs were gone.

“I must be dead.”

Behind her there was a round of applause. Turning to see what and who she caught a glimpse of her body. “I’m transparent.”

Hoots of laughter and murmurs of, “About time,” echoed throughout.

Gazing around her she saw a huge room of dark wood paneled walls with a long row of seats high above her. Frowning she asked, “Who are you people? Am I in the Senate?”

The woman seated at the center of ten individuals answered, “Henrietta Radcliff Carstairs, this is your Tribunal. I am Chief Justice, Glori S. Veracity, one of the justices, but each of us is here to review and then pronounce karmic judgment on the pain and suffering your actions caused.”

“Am I going to be punished for something?”

Sighs filled the room.

Shaking her head sorrowfully, Glori explained, “Reward and punishment are controlling concepts. Karmic balancing maintains equilibrium, therefore we experience the consequences of our thoughts and actions.”


One of the men on the panel stopped Henrietta’s stuttering. “Be still. Your Soul and Ego will be questioned at length.”

Another council member introduced himself as Michael M. Upright, before instructing, “You’ll be given all the time needed to view your life just like in that book by Dickens, A Christmas Carol.”

To her left Henrietta saw a plate glass window. Behind it were thousands of people in three orderly lines waiting to come up to the glass. In one queue they placed their palms together like small children saying their prayers, in another some gave a thumbs-up sign while others thumbs-down, and in the third row still more made a sign by raising their fists.

From the bench, Henrietta heard, “Do you know what those people are doing?”

Unable to remove her eyes from the window,

she answered, “No.”

“They are part of this hearing. The prayerful ones are forgiving you. The ones offering a thumbs up signal are willing to help you balance the karma. Those with thumbs down are also willing to help you get the balance, but they won’t be nice about it. The tight fisted ones are letting us know they want revenge.”

That remark forced Henrietta to turn to the council. “Revenge? For what? I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

The snorts of derision again resounded throughout the chamber.

A calmer member said smoothly, “Yes. That does remain to be seen.”

Peering at the beings on each of her sides, Henrietta saw a brilliant feminine body of light and a tall stern man. Before she could question more, Chief Justice Veracity said, “That is your Soul and your Ego. Why not take a seat? We must continue the review of forgiveness, offers of positive and negative help, and demands for reprisal. Your actions affected so many it looks like it will take a great deal of time.”

The council member at one end of the high bench made a statement, “I don’t think Henrietta Radcliff Carstairs will get through the Bardo in the seven weeks normally achieved by a Soul.”

All the council murmured their agreement.

“What’s the Bardo?” Henrietta asked.

“It’s the place where a soul travels between one lifetime and the next. We must judge the type of life and parents you will get to choose from before you reincarnate.”

Her outraged response was quick, “I don’t believe in reincarnation. I am to go to Heaven for my good deeds.” In secret she wondered, Could this be Hell?

Henrietta’s Soul breathed out a long suffering sigh and her Ego nodded in agreement about deserving heaven. Her eyes were alive in anger. “Besides, God forgives all.”

A stentorian voice above her said, “That is very true. However, your karma is not between you and God. The karma is based on your actions—and lack of them—that caused the equilibrium to be out of balance. You don’t believe in taking responsibility for your behavior, but that doesn’t mean you will not be judged on behalf of those who were affected by the things you did or didn’t do.”

Without movement on her part, Henrietta found herself sitting in a comfortable brass studded, maroon colored, leather armchair. Sliding her eyes towards the body of light she’d just been told was her Soul, in a matching chair next to her, she whispered, “What are you?”

“As was said, I am our Soul. I had such high hopes for us when I used the genetic materials to form your body. All those gifts…well, what’s done is done.”

Henrietta rolled her eyes. Not a happy soul. Purposefully, she then turned to her left to ask, “Who are you?”

The man sat up straighter than he’d been before. “You made me. I’m you premier Ego,” he pronounced proudly. Pausing for a moment, he then pointed at the window where legions of people were shuffling up to make their opinion known. “This will take forever. There should be additional places where all of this can be done.”