Part 2: Echoes Of The King's Mind

Just another overfed gnome

"Your breakfast, your worship."

The king was infirm, bedbound and frail, yet still waited on hand and foot.

"Oh, please, no need to call me 'your worship'. Just treat me like anyone else and call me George."

"Nonsense, your highness! We all live to serve you."

The guilt of undeserved power weighed heavily over the years, tiring the king's shackled soul. He lay in his royal bed exhausted and despairing, trapped to the end. He'd secretly hoped his ill health would have freed him at last from his imposed responsibilities. To be free of the myth of kings was his sole lifeline to hope. Quit believing in me! I cannot save you!

Everyone saw how forlorn he was. A general feeling of pity and a sense of duty of protection came over his diminishing handlers in the fiercest way. Every day the king would vainly try to demur from their worship knowing the false god that he was. How silly for one person to worship another! It would be like watching one blade of grass worship another. Like cells in a body, who would call any one of them unimportant? Such as it is with people.

The flicker of life dimmed as his hope dimmed. The man they called king had tried every trick in the book to be just another ordinary man, to breathe in lifesaving truth. He had no tricks left. It was strange, though. He could feel hope all around him but never grasp it. Why is there this wall? The confusion only dispirited him further, slowly killing him day by day, driving him mad.

What George hadn't realized - but could only sense - was that outside of the nursing home where he resided a revolution had happened. The monarchy and all its trappings had been done away with, replaced by a representative government. The idea of royalty was discarded as an absurdity like witch burning of yore. People found freedom in this though struggled with the newfound responsibility in their lives; no more Anointed One on whom to project divinity to lead them. What an obviously silly charade that had been!

The ex-king's room had been made to look just like his royal bedroom in the palace. The actual furnishings had been retrieved to complete an illusion of times past. Workers were ordered to treat him just as he had been before with no news of the outside world to seep in before his death. The nursing home director had been a staunch royalist who feared the brave new world in which he found himself.

Yet workers complained mightily. "We're tired of keeping up this farce. We want to be free just like everyone else is doing. What we're doing is dishonest."

"We can't always have what we want! There's still such a thing as duty no matter how much it burdens us. I, for one, am honored for the opportunity of self-denial. We serve a greater cause and that cause is to keep George happy in his final days and never to let him know he's not a king anymore. I may not know much but this much I can tell you: finding out he's just another person will kill him. Keep the lie alive. It's the only way. We can't always be obedient to the truth."

Healthcare Shmealthcare

Everyone's taking about healthcare, Trumpcare, Obamacare, this care, that care.
But when it comes to the truth, not a solitary soul cares.

To see this situation for what it really is, to reduce from 1/6th of our economy to a more viable 1/9th, you have to realize there's not a politician in the land willing to do what that takes. The healthcare industry needs to be looked upon as a single corporation. And to make that hemorrhaging corporation work massive, massive layoffs would be needed. Who's going to make the argument for that??

Sen. Turtle Face met with industry lobbyists before even meeting with his own party members on crafting a bill (same as Obama Fraud did). That's all you need to know on the possibility of an actual solution. The insurance industry needs to be weeded out of the equation, the pharmaceutical industry needs to be whittled down to a fraction of its current size, and outrageous overcharging for services needs to cease. You're talking about hurting a lot of local economies across the country.

Since no one has the guts to cut out the gangrene greed that's killing us, the end is already written. The talk we hear of "solutions" ("If only...!") is, of course, wishful thinking, people deceiving themselves because the alternative is too unthinkable. Well, folks, there's lots of horrible unthinkable things coming our way, like a tidal wave that wipes out both the good and the bad.

The worst among us rule the world. There's a price to be paid for that no matter how stubbornly we refuse to connect the dots. And when the time comes to pay the piper, there will be no recourse: it will be too late for protests, too late for hope. Does this sound bleak to you? If so, then you're a moron.

We should be glad that responsibility counts for something. The only reason for receiving punishment is from refusing rewards. We're doing this to ourselves, voluntarily, which means we can undo it if we wish. Nature dictates that greed must lose but there's no dictate we must follow greed. Of course, saying greed isn't the answer is the one agreed upon heresy of our times, violently opposed by all. Float that factoid out there and you'll see just how liberal someone really is!

Give up the ghost, folks, and face the music: you're on your own. We're going to "pragmatic" ourselves right into the grave. We'll save our jobs but lose our lives! How's that for faith in witchcraft voodoo? History will show great sorrow for us, a tragedy that need never have happened. This is something I've experienced in my own life too and what is the world but a collective expression of our lives?

A Queer Killer

The interrogation room was small and unadorned like all interrogation rooms that fear the truth of who we are. We hope to unearth motives, to bury them before they see the light of day. An unjust society must hide the killers it creates at all costs or lose its assumed moral authority. But simply asking for the right to control eschews any possibility of morality.

INTERROGATOR: Therefore you believe no one is born homosexual?

PERPETRATOR: Correct. You got a dick then the rest of your life revolves around pleasing a woman. And whether you think you can or cannot do that is what will drive you.

INTERROGATOR: But you believe it's a sin for someone to let themselves be driven to the same gender?

PERPETRATOR: Don't really know about that. Not interested. Just making an observation, not a judgment.

INTERROGATOR: So you weren't seeking to punish your victims?

PERPETRATOR: What would I be punishing them for? That's God's problem.

INTERROGATOR: Then why did you attack only homosexual men?

PERPETRATOR: Because they're easier. They're more fearful than the usual desperate male. They carry a lot of shame and guilt. Don't ever see straight pride parades do you?

INTERROGATOR: What you're saying is you just want whomever is easiest to kill?

PERPETRATOR: Bingo.

INTERROGATOR: You couldn't kill a straight male just as easily?

PERPETRATOR: Of course not. How would I get as close? For me, it's about the final betrayal.

INTERROGATOR: You seek to betray their trust?

PERPETRATOR: Exactly. See, if my theory is right then these guys have already betrayed themselves and I'm just fulfilling the final execution of that act.

INTERROGATOR: How is it they've betrayed themselves?

PERPETRATOR: No women! Gotta have somebody in the end, I know, so you'll take what you can get but if it's not real then you've betrayed yourself.

INTERROGATOR: Have you betrayed yourself?

PERPETRATOR: Undoubtedly.

INTERROGATOR: So you see your role as expressing homosexual men's self-betrayal by getting close to them and killing them.

PERPETRATOR: I never really bothered to figure it out that much but that sounds about right. I mainly just wanted to kill.

INTERROGATOR: And you gravitated this direction because these men were the easiest to victimize?

PERPETRATOR: Yeah...yeah, I'd say it happened like that. It all just sort of fell together, it just fit.

INTERROGATOR: No other ways crossed your mind?

PERPETRATOR: Well, the military did, sure. I could get a medal there. But there's something about me getting to choose who gets killed.

INTERROGATOR: You need to choose your own victims. But wouldn't you prefer to have your acts sanctioned?

PERPETRATOR: Not really, no. I mean, I know those army guys think that way but what does that mean? You're out there killing you're doing it for a reason, including me. I have to admit it would have been a lot easier for me had I had a socially accepted reason. But killing is killing no matter how you try to justify it. Those stupid ass generals have no more idea who to kill than I do - or anyone for that matter. How are they qualified to judge who is good or bad? There's no morality to it. Why do you think half of them soldier boys come home and kill themselves?

INTERROGATOR: Are you saying you see your killing the same as any other? You have no remorse?

PERPETRATOR: Everybody's doing it. It's not just me. I just don't hide the fact I'm doing it. I'm not some politician cutting off people's lifelines saying it's the right thing to do. They call me a mass killer but the big shots are the mass killers. They can knock off millions. That's just too impersonal for me. I gotta see their eyes.

INTERROGATOR: So your rationale is that everyone is doing it so why not you? No specific trigger.

PERPETRATOR: The trigger was the money.

INTERROGATOR: The press is calling you the Millionaire Murderer. Most would assume your money would prevent you from killing.

PERPETRATOR: That's because most don't have it. But I knew in order to have the women I wanted I couldn't just be me and hope to get them. I knew I had to be rich. But once I got what I thought was sufficient money...well...I realized I could never have enough, that I'd have to earn my happiness on my own. That's when I gave up.

Ain't no poor man touching them!

INTERROGATOR: Your answer then was to kill??

PERPETRATOR: Yes. I had - have - no hope. I need others to have no hope. That's what I mean by needing to see the look in their eyes, that I know they feel the same hopelessness as I do staring death in the face.

INTERROGATOR: But you know that's not an answer.

PERPETRATOR: How do you mean? I can't make the impossible happen. My needs can never be met.

INTERROGATOR: Many people have feelings of hopelessness but do not resort to killing.

PERPETRATOR: That's on them. No one's ever paid my rent but me.

INTERROGATOR: But why do you feel you have some special right to kill?

PERPETRATOR: Dunno. Never thought about it. Just do.

INTERROGATOR: You never thought about it!? Somewhere along the way you decided you had the right to take life as you please. We're trying to find out why, and maybe - just maybe - get you back on the right road. So I'm asking you, at what point did you decide you have the right to kill?

PERPETRATOR: Honest to God, I have no conscious memory of ever making a decision like that. I always took it for granted. Guess you'd have to say I was born this way.

Part 1: Who Am I?

I am a vassal of emptiness, a wastoid of human wreckage, disconnected from all living things, my true self banished to hidden darknesses, never to see the light of day. I suffer the worst of the possible fates: I am unknown. My heart beats for no reason, no purpose, soundless to the world. I do not eat but rather ingest. I do not live but rather act in permanent charade. What is there for me? What can I be? Who can I be? Who am I?

I am the king.

I must live with the terror of living with men who blindly obey my commands. Men who would rebuke me if I were to rebuke my illusory command. I'm trapped in Hell's hopeless pretense, defined by "meeting expectations" set for me by a tyrannical populace. Sure, somewhere deep in their hearts, they know what fraudulence this be. It's only good to be king when you're not the king. If I were to proclaim this openly only one soul in a thousand would understand.

Love is the biggest issue. I fear it more than any other. Being without it only makes its importance more harrowingly clear. With each passing day the affairs of state seem more and more farcical and irrelevant. I am a joke, a waste of everyone's time. Even I speak behind my back. I feel helpless, as one stuck in an overpowering current, my decisions mean nothing as my circumstance outweighs my will. I simply pose to be making a difference.

My funeral will be attended by thousands but mourned by none. Oh, they may cry over the idea of who I am, but I was never really me. Take away my crown and I'd be the most unnoticed man in the room. I've tested the limits over the years, making insane decisions to see who - or if - anyone would fight back. None ever did. They claimed that would be betrayal. Those sad, stupid men. They think themselves clever and politic in mutual destruction knowing full well their obedience is my betrayal.

I am the most guarded man in the land. To what purpose? I see the toiling peasants and feel no better - if anything, the lesser, a man further from honesty. One feels one will wake up one morning with everyone deciding what a mad spectacle this is, taking my crown and putting me in the fields to work. What could be my argument against it? I've become addicted to this lifestyle in a conspiracy of despair unseen in all the ages. I was never our ruler. Only madness has ruled us.

I've been given the power of life and death. Why is that? Because of a supposed wisdom or morality to be claimed by me? I have neither. You cannot measure the sorrow I feel in a church performing pathetic rituals for a God I long ago abandoned. No, I am not the one you seek to guide you. But do I dare explain that? The power of life and death is the thrill of the political priests, insisting I must have this power so the blood will stain only my hands as they avow or disavow as is their pleasure. Killing spares its harm to no soul, no matter how sanctioned by a willing people.

Crooks cheer me when I'm crooked. Angels cheer me when I'm angelic. But will my soul be lessened its fate of the unloved by false cheers? Not a whit. God has no knowledge of this fiction we've created called royalty. Every soul is precious and must not be damaged. But they say the king's is less important, to be damaged to "keep us safe", of all the crazy ideas. How can damaging a soul help ensure the world?

The slide into self-deception hastened many, many years, deceiving myself into thinking I was doing "important matters". But only love matters, nothing else - no matter how much those around me insist otherwise. Are their lives so loveless they must fervently seek to make mine to be as well? But like a piece of rotted wood I can serve no real purpose (for how does rotted wood become whole again?) but to decompose and return to Nature. I must hide this horror from my mind just to make it through the day.

Rage boils within. I started a war once out of sheer frustration. Men died and women cried because of an angry whim. Is that why we created a king, because of so many directionless lives needing something to die for? I know the truth of my motives but the greater the lie of patriotism the greater they claim it. No one cares how illegitimate my decisions just so long as they don't have to make them. This tunnel has no exit.

In the end I only want what I can't have. If I can have that, I can have hope. I've wasted my life and there's nothing left of me. For a time and then a time more I forced myself to believe in the myth of a king, that the duties of a king made one's life important. Having been swallowed by the abyss, stripped of illusion, I see where I have truly landed. Can no one help?

They speak with envy of the king's power. Yet, power is a dead end. I jailed many men both innocent and guilty just to have others share my cruel lonely fate. They must curse me in the night but we are bonded in misery. In my weakness I could not resist this no matter how wrong I knew it to be. My evil minions, though, defend me as a champion of justice! No, the king has no power, I am the people's prisoner in bondage, voiceless and doomed by projected fantasy, sentenced for life to pretend happiness where there is none.

Point On President

"Why is it some people accept behavior out of their President they'd never accept out of their children?"

"For the President, lying is like breathing."

"Doesn't matter if the President lies! They all do it!" "So that's what you want? Someone who acts like all the rest of them?"

**********

"...And the world will live as one "

"Do you think I have come to bring peace to the earth? No! I have come to divide people against each other you freaking morons."*
- that Jesus guy

Why is it every politician wants to bring us together? Simple. They want to be loved by all, universal acclaim, from both the honest and the dishonest. But how can both the honest and dishonest be for the same thing? That's why Jesus came to divide, to separate the two groups, to keep the wheat and throw away the chaff just like any farmer does. Because in the end, there can be only one!

The whore of Babylon sits upon the throne and the whore knows he's a whore and demands everyone around him be a whore too. That's where division comes! Who will refuse and who will capitulate? We just saw an obvious example where a roundtable was ordered to publicly demean themselves one by one and grovel before the whore. Some say those people lost their dignity. I wholly disagree. I say their lack of dignity was simply exposed, that the only thing lost was their illusion of respectability. Sweet revelation!

So many "unthinkable" things keep happening. But it's so very predictable. If you prefer a roadmap just go read "The Fall Of The Roman Empire". A morally decaying people putting other corrupt people in power. Insanity, treachery, deceit. There's no mystery to what's going on no matter how much we like to pretend we are angels who somehow get tricked by bad people! For those who don't know, the barbarians win in the end. Not a single suburb will survive.

**********

"You certainly showed me your ass."

"As soon as you see a cloud rising in the west, you say, 'A shower is coming,' and that is what happens. And when the south wind blows, you say, 'It will be hot,' and it is. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of the earth and sky. Why don’t you know how to interpret the present time? And why don’t you judge for yourselves what is right, you freaking morons?"*

- that Jesus guy

But it's so much more fun to pretend your President is Jesus! And since I voted for Jesus, I must be Jesus too! "If the Prez said it, it must be true! He's the most greatest and wonderful person in the whole world! He can do all my thinking for dumb ol' me. That's the responsible thing to do! I'm a patriot, sir. I defer to the President - and fuck that Jesus guy! I'm sick of listening to his liberal bullshit!"

We're all going to be called out. Destroyers and builders cannot ultimately live together. Though it may be only one in ten who refuse the whore (and that refusal may seem completely futile), you have to save yourself first before you can save anyone else. The whores are in charge and will remain in charge, though in various shapes and forms. All their lies will use the latest marketing, polling our way to defeat. From space, we're really a fucking absurd sight to see, like a city in the desert trying to save itself by voting to not need water - as if that changes your fate!

As the march towards revelation continues, we'll each be exposed for better or worse. The chains of our misguided precepts will be forever broken and we won't be staking our hopes to insane witch burnings as a way to preserve the future. God, what a relief that will be. I remember a woman reporting a close encounter with an alien and as it looked upon her she said it had "very sad eyes." Because all those who are capable of interplanetary travel have evolved into a permanently defenseless state, the alien surely knows what we're going through. Who will live to see the planet of light? It will be an explosion of life, a sweet surrender to our dreams, and the impossible will become possible.

* From the Homeless Universal Bible Edition

The King Is Like A Jelly Donut

We know who the enemy is - and it ain't us! It's the gubbenment! It's screwing up everything and now we's finally got us someone in there screwing up it!!! Go King Donnie, go! Make all them elitist high school graduaters kiss your arse! They all's made me feel bad in gym class and now we's gettin' 'em back! Dear Donnie's da smartest man in the room - even if he ain't! HAHAHA! He so clever. Even God is fooled!

Queen Donald: "Everyone, tell me why my ass is the best ass in the world to kiss - and do it in the most demeaning and humiliating way possible!"

President of Vice: "I hopes you's can hear me while shinin' your shoes down here, boss! Jess like Billy Maher, you's can call me your house nigger anytime!"

General Chaos: "First off, I'd to thank our commander-in-cheat for allowing us to wear beanies and clown faces as we duly mock our responsibilities to the American people."

Disbarred Attorney General: "Fuck the law! Fuck anyone who wants it! We're gonna fuck justice right in the ass - on live TV!"

Department of the Inferior: "Mr. Resident, as a female - and therefore inferior in every way - I want to thank you for putting me in my place: the White House kitchen. I promise you the best brownies and the blow jobs ever - even better than your Russian hookers!"

Department of Homelessness: "The king's a rich man. If you ain't rich then sumpthin' wrong wit you! And if your ass is homeless, you be way wrong. Keep houses for us good guys only!"

Department of Edjamication: I are edjamicating childrens good to love Dear Donnie the mostest! Their gonna bee Dear Donnie posters in dem classes fer shur to learns them right and bean like us is!"

Department of Insecurity: EVERYONE is fucking us! Get all them foreigners! They be playing us for fools! We ain't fools no more! We got President Rambo now! It's payback time, bitches! (Excluding all Russians, Russian allies, and anything of Russian interest, of course.)"

Queen Donald: "I just want to thank you for being absolutely the best cabinet in the world, in history, and the universe. I honestly believe you truly represent what the American people deserve. Keep up the good work and massive self-immolation because I'm going to need it once word gets out I was anally penetrated by Russian prostitutes while screaming out my master Putin's name."

The Bad Sleep Well

Those who say evil must be done to sustain the world are oftentimes correct. This is because the world is built on criminality. To veer towards a human model now is to destroy everything we've built - to which one can only say: good fucking riddance.

Jesus said we're a faithless and perverse generation, meaning that we've reversed reality. That's the same as saying you're going to live underwater by holding your breath. Only works for a while! And if you're too stubborn to give it up you suffer death by stupidity - which is the fate that awaits most of us. Those who've built their lives and families on criminality are naturally then loath to give that life up. In the end, of course, there is no choice. Win all the arguments you want on how we must sustain our wicked ways but you'll die a screaming wretch all the same.

The worlders are easy to spot. They're the ones who say human nature is evil. Therefore we have to keep people in chains and slavery, blackmailing them from cradle to grave to receive food and care. No one knows who came up with the idea of money, but this we do know: he was a pervert. May he spend all of eternity as a Walmart greeter in hell. But the world does not have to be the way we say it does. That's what we fear. That's what we dearly hope.

This is what's ever-present on our (unspoken) minds.

Listen carefully and you will hear: "Please don't change anything! I don't want to die!" You hear it over and over every day, laced with fear and dire conviction. Oh, people may complain about the effects of our wicked ways, but we maintain "hope" we can be wicked and not be the worse off; no change required. What are commercials really selling but an endless justification for our way of life? Feel the seduction! Your time is going to come.

Today we got a small glimpse into the real world - but only because it had a happy ending. Unhappy endings don't make the news (because that could imply change is needed!). The part of West Dallas called La Bajada dates back to the days of Bonnie and Clyde and has been the neglected stepchild of downtown Dallas for decades. But now there's money to be made by big time developers meaning if you're poor and can't pay 2,000+ a month rent for the our new Soviet style apartments you're just shit out of luck. Just go off and die conveniently out of sight.

One landlord owns the majority of rental shotgun houses and he's been forced to sell due to new city regulations that make it cost prohibitive for him to keep. His only way to avoid millions in fines was to demolish them and force everyone to move. A judge blocked the city from enforcing its code for a few months to prevent 300 families from being thrown out into the streets where no comparable rents can be found. At the last minute a solution has been found that allows them to stay permanently (much to the fury of the city).

Pearl Brown, 80, a lifelong West Dallas resident who is receiving one of the life estates, wept at [landlord] Khraish’s side during the press conference. She and her neighbor, 72-year-old Bennie Kilson — who also will receive a life estate and stay in her house — both said they had been unable to sleep or eat for months from worry. Brown said she had lost 20 pounds.

“I was just depressed and worried," Kilson said. "You wonder where you’re going to go. I didn’t have nowhere to go.”

I know that feeling well. And had they'd died a miserable death on the streets or in a shelter (as so often happens) it would never have been reported. But we report this to "prove" the system works - and we don't need no stinkin' change! But those who live at our mercy know the truth of us, that we are blind killers lost in self-deception, thinking our deeds unknown. The city was miffed at being foiled in its land grab but for the time being will just have to eat it (especially our DINO mayor).

So we get a small glimpse into the life of those whom we hold hostage, making their lives a living hell. Tens of millions are held in economic prison in this country, institutionalized from above. We have a President who openly proposes to rape them even further with a de facto war on the poor declared and we give about as much damn about them as Germans did the Jews. Laugh ye whores of Babylon, for your time is short but your fate eternal.

Give back to her as she has done to others; pay her back double for what she has done; mix her a double portion in her own cup. To the degree that she has glorified herself and lived in luxury, inflict on her that much torment and misery. In her heart she says, "I sit as queen; I am not a widow and will never see mourning."

Therefore her plagues will come in one day, death and misery and famine; and she will be consumed by fire, for mighty is the Lord God who judges her. Then the kings of the earth who committed sexual immorality and lived in luxury with her will weep and wail at the sight of the smoke rising from the fire that consumes her.

She Said, He Said

He stopped trusting himself once he realized he totally trusted her.

She told him she thought he was smart.  He told her he wasn’t smart until he met her.

"Fortune favors the brave," she said. "Then I’ll die for you," he cowardly bled.

"Don't come around here no more, whatever you're looking for." "I've got no place else to go!" "Not my problem." "Because you believe I've un-needed you?"

"I never had feelings for you and you can't prove otherwise. Take your fictional dreams elsewhere." "This is no mere court of Man's law! It's not what can be proven that counts, but what you know."

"I won't let you destroy me! I can run to places you can never hope to reach, forever beyond your powers to achieve!" "It's the running itself that destroys."

"Just go away. You'll ruin everything!" "If I mean nothing to you how can I ruin anything? Do you say this to strangers?"

"It's over. The flower has died. Actions and inactions have consequences." "Yes, yes, I know. What a nightmare."

Lying Is Love

Many years had passed since the boy who pointed out the emperor wore no clothes was crucified. The boy had foolishly jeopardized defense contract negotiations by making the king look silly thus he had to be stopped before the kingdom was destroyed. "His unrealistic idealism of speaking the truth gives aid and comfort to our enemies and undermines the king's authority to rule. This may seem cruel but we must be pragmatic and protect the king. So sayeth we the good people."

After that, all children and any other truth-tellers were declared enemies of the state. The king had "Truth is treason!" posters plastered on every building in the kingdom. Pollsters went door-to-door after every nude parade. "Did you like the king's clothes? Does the king tell the truth?" When children overheard their parents' lying in response they asked why. "Because the truth makes people mad. Making people mad is bad. Always lie to the pollsters. You see: lying is love."

Of course, anytime children were caught lying to their parents, the children had the shit beat out of them. In the king's country, betrayal was the national religion, though its official name was "Oath of Loyalty". Great ceremonies were had upon taking the Oath and lofty praise heaped upon the participants. The king, it seemed, could not get enough loyalty. He saw enemies everywhere and even a solitary dissent meant ruin in his mind. This is because the king was trapped.

Having made everyone swear he wore beautiful clothes he was stuck in nude hell until death. As each day passed, it became harder and harder to admit his fraudulent life to once again wear actual clothes. Forcing denial down his throat on a daily basis, he lived a life of self-rape, craving to come clean but never daring. "As long as I keep doubling down I'll be safe." But time was his truest enemy, realizing more every day of his own ridiculousness - and never ever admitting to himself that the entire kingdom already knew the truth. Most embarrassing of all: he kept up the charade for nothing.

Other kingdoms laughed and ridiculed the nude king and his followers, mocking their loyalty oaths to stupidity. This was very embittering to the kingdom. "No one would think we're dumb if you didn't say it!" Outside kingdoms were called loser elitists (Yeah, I know. No one caught the contradiction). The king would engage in bizarre and indecent acts such as public masturbation and urinating on peasants simply to enrage his critics. "Look at our king! He's the great disrupter! Haha! Not so dumb now, are we!" But at the end of the day, this made them only more isolated and miserable.

An inner fear began spreading across the land as hope and sanity slipped away. A sad frightening circus of insanity trumped reality in a way never seen before. Self-hate groups sprang up, claiming their patriotism by immolation from the king "who's never wrong!" Traitors were to be found under every bush. Public masturbators followed in the king's footsteps of hate. "Take that you elitist sane kingdoms!" But nothing was ever enough. Pain pervaded every pore. The lying was like wrestling an undefeatable monster and the people feared they'd never leave its abyss.

I bet your right!

Finally, his soul on fire, fearing his truth more than death, the king became engulfed in self-terror. "They want to kill us, to destroy us in the worst way!" he declared, referring to himself of course. He gathered up the self-hate groups (about a third of the population), told them their problems were not their fault, and said for them to kill with impunity anyone they hated. Many, fearing to be targets, joined the self-hate groups but eventually there was no one left to kill but themselves, calling out one another for "not being a true self-hater and a secret life lover."

As with any story, truth won out in the end, the king ordering others to lose their souls as he had lost his. Unrepentant laughter twisted its way into howling tears of mortal terror. Amid the smoldering ruins a statue was erected by the surviving kingdoms of the small boy who spoke truth to power. The king and his followers were doomed to forever infamy in the pages of history to be eternally mocked. Had they come clean at any point they could have saved themselves - but everything they did to save them brought ultimate ruin. The future lies only with love - and truth is love.

A Splash Of Haiku

Griffin and Maher Were Wrong...To Apologize

Firstly, the number of things I find offensive is off the charts. Your average commercial is so crass and flippant of the human condition as to be obscene, making whole classes of people non-persons and invisible. Go fuck yourself with your Buick SUV. The list goes on but the point is regardless of what filth I may see I don't want to be made director of what is and what should never be. I'll Nature sort that out when we finally get revealed for who and what we really are for all eternity. What a delicious day that will be!

In the meantime, it completely sucks with the daily overload of mass posing we see of people getting on their hind legs in their Twitter outrage looking to divert attention from their own complicity on this planet. If we could see ourselves as we really are the world would be a much quieter place what with so many pots calling the kettle black. But that's what happens when you got everyone running for office instead of being honest. We is a silly people.

Let's start with Kathy and the severed head. Around the universe, humans are known as murderers. That's the kind of reputation you get when you brutally kill those sent to save you. And do I think President Nero is a killer? One hundred percent yes. And as we all know from watching superhero movies, killing killers is OK! So why all the outrage??

Part of it is our deep unadmitted shame at having put a monster like this in charge. Everyone knows what that says about us as a people. We raped and destroyed Iraq without provocation and yet still think of ourselves as "the good guys". That's how delusional we've become. So seeing The Donald's severed head causes a gut reaction of what we fear we may deserve. Funny how we reveal our hidden guilt!

Now imagine if you will, if Trumpy saw the severed head and thought it was funny (because beheading lives is a favorite hobby of dictators and his budget certainly proposes this on a mass scale) and started selling them in the lobby of Trump tower along with his ugly ties and other junk. Would Kathy Griffin have been fired then? Of course not! We'd be congratulating her on her edgy humor and the whole thing would be like a scene from "Being There" in a world of unrepentant sell-outs. This boils down to just another "Here's my chance to appear moral!" moment that no truly moral person ever concerns themselves with.

Bill Boy is someone I've criticized before when I feel he's off the mark but many times he's on the mark and that's how he retains whatever relevance he has. I believe him when he says he believes in love but he's weak and afraid like most of us are and often betrays that. God knows I did. But if you think he's sitting around dreaming of ways of lynching black people (and yes those people do still exist in great quantities) then you're guilty of the same prejudice of which he's being accused.

Do we really need to hear what these morons have to say?

I actually had Real Time on last night but when I saw it was some Republican frat boy with his book lecturing us on how to be responsible (now THAT's fucking offensive!) I muted the entire interview. I would not have cared about Bill's use of the phrase "house nigger" because everyone knows what it means and how he meant it even if they pretend otherwise. I can tell you one thing, though. All these people feigning outrage have never lived their life dependent on a manual labor job. All capitalists condone slavery, mon ami.

Ever notice how in commercials nowadays if they show a bunch a kids they make sure to show "diversity", with a token from every "group" under the sun? You know why they do that? Because they're bigots and don't think of people as people. Ever watch kids play together? They're not thinking "I must be inclusive!" They just play without it ever crossing their minds. Kids and Jesus are the only ones not bigots. (For those who just can't let go: "Ten signs you're cat might be a racist", a serious discussion for the conservative left.)

The mouth is the overflow of the heart. I don't place absolutes on individual words. That's just beyond dumb. For all anyone knows covfefe may stand for nigger and therefore everyone who's said it is now a terrible racist, omigod! But it's the heart that matters. I, in fact, make up my own racial slurs. Whenever I see an hourly Hispanic worker driving very slowly in his work truck and blocking my ass going down the highway I call him a "fucking Pedro." Now Pedro is obviously not a bad word but in that context it is. So you see, those who simply hang on words but not see the heart (intentionally) miss the point.

As I've said before, all bigotry and all the "isms" are an illusion. What it really is is an expression of self-loathing projected onto others. A person with no problems with himself has no bigotry. A person with problems does. And I don't know anyone who has no problems. But it's amazing how much we've degraded since the 70's and "All In The Family", a show which stands no chance of being made now. (Yeah, yeah, the running-for-office people say that's because we're more innocent now. BS!)

Want to be offended? Be my guest! Just don't forget whom we also are often offending, starting with our Maker and the guy we nailed to a cross.

A Room In The House

It was my secret feelings that did me in. Or rather, keeping my feelings secret was my ruin. The hate and anger for the people in my house - and for a world bent on death - I kept hidden. I've never had a home. Then it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy as I now walk by homes where I know I can never ever share what I feel: I want a room in the house.

"Mommy! Daddy! There's a homeless man in here!" It's like sighting a cockroach, I must be gotten rid of at all costs. Those who show overt anger against me do not bother me, the "get the hell out" crowd. What kills me is the breath-holding pseudo-politeness that kills. They won't breathe until you're gone. They won't even share their anger with you. Wow, that really is living outside.

Hotels are like prostitutes. You can have a place but you have to buy their time. But even then I fear resentment for not being normal enough to claim a room. "Oh, you're homeless," spoken like you have a bad smell. It's like banks: they only want to make loans to those who don't need them and hotels only want to rent to those with their own homes. So I check in with all sorts of guilt, feeling like an interloper. It's supposed to be a special treat but it has withered over the years into another ongoing headwind.

You can live your life. I want you to be free. I just want a room where I can hang out. I wouldn't have anything to offer other than how to find the best public bathrooms (hotel lobbies) or advice on not going to back alleys to buy your pot (there's always danger bringing out your wallet). Not much of a role model for your kids, I know. But I do want contribute. I want a real room.

These are the feelings that plague me when I walk through a neighborhood. I can tell no one of my passing pain. I have to act like I have somewhere to go - while having a flashing neon light above me saying "Fool". So I avoid walking through streets with homes while I do realize others walk through thinking nothing of it. I want to tell those blithe trespassers, "Don't let them know how you feel! They'll kill you!" But that's just me they'll kill.

I will go to my grave with no one knowing my greatest secret: no one has to lie to me. Truth is like oxygen. It means respect and hope and life when someone gives it. We are trained to lie, to live in the vain hope it serves some purpose. People are always looking for a purpose for their lies. Turn on any TV and you can see it. All those talking heads, secretly looking for love, trying to feel important. They too hunger for a room - and the truth that goes with it.

There are two things that make people mad: truth and lies. It's an unspoken universal dream to have complete honesty 100% of the time without persecution. It would be the end of the eternal warring. There's a commercial out where everyone speaks completely honestly and it's hilarious ("I'm going to pretend what's on my phone is important so I won't have to make eye contact.") That's exactly how I wrote the characters in my novel. Honesty is the bridge to paradise. (And it's the only bridge.)

But I'm a loser liar like the rest. Sometimes you become desperate, using lies to get in the door. I call that "running for office." Your whole life is then absorbed into the ensuing never-ending conservative cover up. The Bible says to come clean. That's why the dirtiest people yell "God" the loudest, their hell a constant reminder of what most needs to be done. One can only smile when hearing talk of the "glory" of defiance. "I'll never come clean - and you can't make me!" Nobody's trying to, it's just you making you.

Took me a long time to realize that even those with rooms don't have it made. They live in self-fear. If you listen, that's what people are crying out about. "I'm going to lose my room!" We invent enemies who must be destroyed in order to keep our rooms safe from ourselves. It's actually a relief when we are attacked, to be able to point the finger away from us. We are a shivering nation, panicking in the face of love, knowing the price of betrayal, hoping the truth never wills out. When do we come clean?