So This Is Hell

This day has been coming for a long time. Too many bad decisions. Too much anger. The chickens have come home to roost, pecking me into insanity. The nightmares have overtaken me. See me for what I am. I never got what I needed. I never got who I wanted. I was just pretending. What do you do when you have nothing to offer? Justice must be done. If you knew the whole truth you would despise me. So I ran away. Goodbye.

Men In Robes

"How did it go with the altar boy?"

"Perfect! You could see the shame pouring over him."

"You preached the value of self-recrimination, I hope? That God never wants us to feel good about ourselves."

"Of course. His holy self-loathing has begun. This will be a good one! He truly wants to be an honest capitalist. So touchingly naive! The self-hatred will no doubt open the door to years of abuse."

"You too must maintain your morality."

"Yes, my bishop. I plan on hating myself later in a session of self-spanking and thrashing. My back will have fresh scars. It's great for horrifying the boys when I show it!"

"Good. We cannot profess the true word of God without a belief in our morality."

"Just so long as we don't say everything we know to be true!"

"Remember: what's one altar boy compared to God's church! Millions depend on us! We hold the world together, the glue for its sin. What is the world but an amalgamated expression of our individual lives? As we make our lives less inhabitable we make the world less inhabitable and vice-versa. It's not our Maker in whom the people believe, but us as His representatives. Ergo, supporting their belief in us supports their belief in God. Our image must be maintained for the greater good."

"Just like the President!"

"Same job, different religion."

"But I must also admit to impure feelings."

"Such as..."

"Valerie Fallon! You see her last Sunday?? What a rack! Just one session with those legs and I'd be a new man!"

"You'd be a fallen man! Do not succumb to the pleasures of skin! Your very soul depends on it. You've got to hide your lust away."

"I promise to enjoy nothing!"

"Now tell me about our latest acquisition, that stockbroker of yours. Did he come again last Sunday?"

"Yes, your holiness. He betrays his clients in the most wicked of ways, leading them down the garden path, setting them up to be exploited. He secretly delights in the horror that is to come their way because of the trust they put in him. 'If they were honest they'd know I am dishonest. So they deserve what they get.' That is what he tells me."

"And you told him how to make amends?"

"Oh, yes. The checks get larger every week and I shower him with approval proportionate to the money. I told him to do a great wrong, do a little right."

"Excellent. Just make sure he never gets weak and tries to comes clean to his clients. He's right about what he says about dishonesty so affirm to him he's doing God's will with his deception - just as we are with ours. We should squeeze much funding out of him before we're done!"

"Where would we be without the misguided masses, sir?"

"The better question is where would they be without us! They'd find themselves without the Lord's approval. They'd be filled with woe and looking for answers. Sin is our business - and business is always good."

"Praise be to the devil Lord!"

"That just leaves us with one remaining issue: are you going to eat that last blueberry muffin over there on that plate?"

"Actually, yes. Been looking forward to it!"

"But you know it's more blessed to give than to receive?"

"Of course, your holiness. That's why I'm deferring to you to receive the blessing of giving to me."

"But the bottom line is my robes outrank your robes and I want that fucking muffin!"

"Not if I get there first!"

It pisses them off if you
ask if they lost a bet

The two robed combatants lunged towards the prized muffin, wrestling one another with devilish fury until exhaustion overcame them as they lay heaving and out of breath on the sacristy floor. Suddenly, the bishop - the more aware of the two - started laughing out loud, disturbing his cohort.

"What is it? Why are you laughing? Someone might hear!"

"It just hit me as we lay here on the floor in our soiled vestments and petty desires that there's people out there who actually base their belief of God's existence on clowns like us!"

Hey, Jose, Shut The Fuck Up!

God was suddenly bored.

"This new bowling alley has been kick ass but after 684 million perfect games I need to find something more challenging."

"Try living on Earth," muttered Jesus.

"Ah, the shithole planet! How are things there since you were crucified?"

"Worse."

"Worse? How could it have possibly have gotten worse?"

"Simple. They've convinced themselves that if I were to return they wouldn't crucify me again."

"My, my. Seems my plan of throwing the baby out with the bath water isn't working. This is a challenge!"

"You know they don't think that far ahead."

"Do they think at all? It's supposed to teach them to keep the water clean so the baby won't get thrown out!"

"Maybe we could try an experiment. Maybe we could try protecting what's good instead of allowing endless pain and anguish to rule."

"Is that allowed?"

"If you don't know, nobody does."

"OK, this could be fun! Let's try giving a damn!"

*******

That night on Earth, a voice spoke to Jose. Jose was a 30 hour a week dishwasher at a national chain restaurant, one of the most despised and hated creatures on the planet.

"Hey, Jose. It's me God. I've got a favor to ask."

"YOU'VE got a favor to ask???? Go fuck yourself! Who needs Your damn ass? You want a favor, try punching a time clock every goddam day - then we talk. What don't You try giving for a change instead of always asking?"

"That's exactly what I plan to do with you."

"Alright! This stupid lottery ticket is finally going to pay off!"

"Oh, I can't do that. All the omnipotent talk is just propaganda from the fake priests. Truth is, I'm mostly pretty useless. Can't pray your way off the cross! That's why I want to try something different."

"Such as?"

"I want you to say 'Love' all the time from now on."

"You woke me up for that? Look, You go pull my soul-killing shift wearing that stupid little hat tomorrow and then we talk. Copper mines of Giba got nothin' on this chico!"

"Oh, hell no. I don't want my life to suck too. All I'm asking is for you to say 'Love'."

"I thought God was supposed to know stuff. Crazy talk like that will get me fired. You want love, smart guy, then go fund it. Man, You're a troublemaker!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to trust me. I can't get anyone living high off the the hog being comfortable to help me. I need someone who has nothing to live for who'll throw his life away since all you're going to do is hump away at some crap job until arthritis takes over and makes your life twice as painful."

"Now that's the God I know! Work hard, be honest - get DOUBLE fucked in the end. Hallelujah."

"This is your way out. Remember: 'Love, love love'."

*******

In the morning Jose got to thinking about his doomed and miserable future being surrounded by dirty dishes and petulant patrons who can actually afford to eat out. May as well fucking die now and get it over with.

"In that case, no need to rush to work."

Upon his late arrival, Jose was duly chewed out. "Look at these dishes stacking up! Get to work you piece of shit!"

"Love, love love," replied Jose.

"Smart ass, bastard!" That made Jose smile because now his shift supervisor felt exactly as he did when talking to God the night before.

"Love, love, love!"

"That's it! You're fired!"

But then the shift supervisor was demoted to dishwasher - a curious trend that was to follow.

Departing the restaurant in the "nice" part of town, Jose heard the usual taunts walking down the street.

"Go back to your own country, you lazy leech!"

"Love, love love!"

"You can't talk to me like that!"

"Love, love love!"

"That's it! I'm going to punch you right in the face!" But as he attempted the punch, a blow of equal force hit the attacker in his own face even though Jose never moved. "Goddamit! You see that? That spic hit me!" A stubborn man, the attacker tried again but with the same result - until finally he knocked himself out.

An angry crowd gathered around. "Hey, that wetback knocked out Tom who never did nothin', just minding his own business. Let's kick his ass!" But the attackers were again rebuffed with equal force until a morass of strewn bodies encircled Jose. That's when the talk began.

"They call him the Love Man," beamed the female reporter to the camera. "He is said to be favored by God. A perpetual crowd follows this illegal immigrant asking him to heal their children, end droughts, and perform other miracles. His small apartment has been broken into where a cult has begun that worships his shoes in unyielding dissatisfaction. Hey, Jose, send love my way!"

But those at the top of the world were deeply concerned. "If love wins, we lose!" Employers who demanded Jose not be given a job went bankrupt. Those who demanded he should not be given food starved to death. Every chain of the world snapped in futility. The entire socioeconomic structure broke down seeing a jobless man thrive. The authorities decided they must step in and wrest control as they had throughout the ages.

Judges - whose deeds are dirty but whose hands are clean - smirked in their betrayal. "We'll deport his ass according to Man's law!" But that only got the judges deported. The D.A. who indicted Jose was indicted. The ICE goons who tried to jail him were jailed. Frustration was mounting. "Somebody DO something!" tweeted the President who was then impeached and forever banned from Twitter.

Jose simply continued with his "Love" mantra, watching in wonder as the human sea parted before him. Priests who preached "Never listen to this false man!" were never listened to again. Lone assassins hoping for approval had their own bullets returned to them. The military who tried to blow him up were duly blown up. All the tried and true ways of the world used over the centuries were useless until finally - ultimately - the destroyers of the world destroyed themselves. Jesus laughed.

Even God was amazed at the outcome. "Me damn! I should have done this sooner!"

What Does It Mean?

What does it mean when you have no hope?

In a world that sees itself as perfect, it means: "You must be a worthless useless piece of shit loser deserving of nothing capable of nothing waste of time effort energy life-sucking parasitic degenerate destroyer of all that is good."

In a world that seeks to always improve, it means: "You must be a superstar flower-to-be dreamer to be unleashed deserving of time effort energy bringing the gift of healing opportunity joy of life to join and enrich all that is good."


Of course, in the first example it also means you got shot on Valentine's Day. Hopefully, there's a card out there for that.

Angels And Ministers Of Grace Defend Us!

Emperor Commodus, 161 – 192 AD

...intrigues and conspiracies abounded, leading Commodus to an increasingly dictatorial style of leadership that culminated in a God-like personality cult

...he seems to have had little interest in the business of administration and tended throughout his reign to leave the practical running of the state to a succession of favorites, beginning with Saoterus, a freedman from Nicomedia who had become his chamberlain.

Commodus raised the ire of many military officials in Rome for his Hercules persona in the arena. Often, wounded soldiers and amputees would be placed in the arena for Commodus to slay with a sword. Citizens of Rome missing their feet through accident or illness were taken to the arena, where they were tethered together for Commodus to club to death while pretending they were giants. These acts may have contributed to his assassination.

...the conspirators sent his wrestling partner Narcissus to strangle him in his bath. Upon his death, the Senate declared him a public enemy (a de facto damnatio memoriae) and restored the original name to the city of Rome and its institutions. Commodus' statues were thrown down.

Every time she speaks an atheist is born

We no longer have to wonder what it was like during the fall of the Roman empire. I realize some idiots still live in denial and have to have the piano fall on them before they realize a fall is upon them. But for those who choose to see, we are a self-loathing people - as all selfish and greedy people are. As I've said before, we all know how this story turns out even if we never publicly admit it.

So what a parade of freaks and half-wits and stooges and deliberate liars and other emotional mutants we see on a daily basis now. The fact we allow this to go on for even a day is a mark against the nation. The daylight insanity is out there for anyone to see. No need for shame or even to pretend as such. Openly lie about even the most obvious of facts and the world shrugs with a sigh.

Sure, there will probably be a pushback just as there was against Commodus, but that won't stop the descent. In reality, there should be such a huge howling that these clowns would be run out of power regardless of any election dates. Either one is healing or rotting. And a day spent rotting means another day owed for healing. The fact we've yet to face we are crucifying our children - and the ensuing intolerability of living with that - shows we just aren't being serious about our lives. No one will be smiling at the end of this.

His name is Porter

Goupil: The Terrible Horrible Inevitable End

I've come across many assassins in my time. We naturally despise and draw away from one another. It's a peculiar trait of perverse pride each of us thinks only he knows "right" way to kill. I'm not speaking method here, but of kind of morality. You see -

Goddam kid squealing downstairs! What they doing to him? I hate that little fat bastard walking with his sugar drink and video from the car!

You see, a need to feel "justified" cannot be resisted. We are all frauds in that sense. American military type do it for Jesus. I kidding you not! Some try to be cynic, say only money is good. But money not enough for doing this. Something push you into it, drive you. We professionals hate the clowns who get in for what they think -

Shut fucking kid up! Crap studio is living hell! I can't live like this. Drive me insane!!

- they think is quick, easy dollar. Cop catch them like flies. Must have drive to be professional. But assassins are like magnets that repel. That Spaniard in Lisbon, how I hate working with him! He never find out it I put cockroach in his bed. Went right up his arse! Truth is we bunch of weirdos. They like to show quiet efficient killer in movie but those twisted the most. They -

I hate these people downstairs! On and on and on! I'm going to kill them! I'm not joking! This torture very must cease!

- they hide love desires they cut off from. I remember this turmoil. I around Holly Marie Combs actress many, many years ago when in Los Angeles city. Such struggle for acceptance! I like her very, very much. She between relationships and not happy. Just like regular person! But I could not enter her world. I was dying to be something real, have something real to offer. Not even for sex, but for friend -

Goddam! Goddam that brat! I'm kicking shit out of him squeal one more time! Whole life here is merde! Shit job, shit money, shit life. Stop pressing on my brain!!

- for friend like I wish to have, person of quality. This aching like drowning man no one can hear. Those actors types around her with dreams, make me feel small and lost. Most unhappy hit I ever do. If target in movie business I would back out for sure. Taste of that crowd still linger, still sting the heart. That when I should leap off train to start over, back then when still time. I debate! But too scared. Too afraid find out I really nothing. I wonder this too late now?

That's it! I can't take that sound anymore! I'll give him something to scream about! I put end to it NOW! Where my gun!

------------------------------------------------------------------

Police arrived on the scene of a triple homicide and suicide in a rundown south side apartment building involving the long hunted French born assassin Goupil. An immigrant family of three was shot dead apparently by Goupil who then turned the gun on himself. According to police the child was brutally kicked and thrown across the room by Goupil who had matching bloodstains on his shoes and hands. The boy, however, had previous burn marks on the soles of his feet which had been routinely inflicted by his parents according to neighbors. The parents had stepped out to bring in their laundry from the complex's laundromat but were greeted by two fatal shots each from the gun of Goupil.

No one knows what set off the killings but police believe this was an impulse kill. Goupil is a suspect in many foreign based assassinations including the highly contested rumor of a contract ordered by California representative Dana Rohrabacher who had no comment on Goupil's death. Legendary for his ability to elude capture and tracking by law enforcement, the killer is suspected to have "imploded" according to officials. "He was able to run from the law but not from himself." A note was found in his apartment stating: "There really no such thing as demons, just love you can't get out."

Late arriving reports that his employment was as a fry cook for a nearby Burger King have yet to be confirmed by a company spokesman who yet vigorously denied fast-food work drives employees to murderous rampages.

I Saw Three Swordsmen In The Rain

[By 1836 Japan had lived under a single government for over two hundred years. During this time the government rotted from within, seizing lands and power on the flimsiest of excuses at the continual expense of the outlying clans, leaving thousands of wandering samurai with no place to go. Isolated and secluded from the rest of the world, Japan detached from reality, its only direction perpetually inward. This caused a time warp in the land, accelerating into the future.

Souls came into existence never before seen in this incarnation of Earth. Souls distilled from a boiling planet yet to face the consequences its own treachery. Souls terrorized and made devoid at having faced the truth of an inhabited world - and having found in it no future.

In thirty years time, the seclusion would end vaulting Japan back into conjunction with the world in a furious phase of re-entry that eventually ends with the explosions of two atomic bombs. But Mankind has yet to commit the worst of its deeds.]

I saw three swordsmen in the darkening evening rain.

I saw three swordsmen and knew the world is doomed.

The drenching forest rain was menacing, inviolate from Man. The cold steeped my bones into submission. The wind howled in my ears telling me civilization had disappeared. But these men stood still and sturdy, one with the elements.

Swords drawn, held out to the side, ready to take what they could take. Doubt had been wrung from them ages ago. Resolute. Resistant. Removed. Words do not exist to sway them off their course. They had moved beyond.

Living in nameless conviction, they roam the silenced land. Their focused steel is not their greatest weapon: but rather the strength of knowing what they know. Peasants instinctively avoid them like black priests of the night. No one speaks of them after they leave, passing invisibly by, unspoken as evil within.

They do not contemplate after taking a life any more than a child stepping on an insect. Nature has spoken, that is all. They carry the rage of spurned lovers. Once samurai of the castle, they answer to no man ever again. Survival a day's business. Life and death endless pursuits. Their sentence of death freed them of worldly concerns.

Words rarely leave their lips. To whom could they speak who could possibly understand? Of what they know can not be explained. To attempt to speak only proves one's self-deception. Their pained eyes see through worldly images.

In paralyzed moments I stood staring at them as if in a spell. Could have been seconds or an hour before I returned to consciousness. I remember a great feeling of compulsion to ask them to divulge the secret of what drove them. It was more than revenge or bitterness at being outcast. A spirit wind - a kamikaze - pushed them onward and outward, to resurface generation after generation. I tried to doubt my eyes.

I have known these woods all my life. I did not know them that day. The lonely pines belonged to the three swordsmen. I shall never cross these passes again in the same way having seen this dream of despair. I thought we had a chance. I thought we had hope. But no future exists with the likes of these. I'll carry this coldness in me evermore.

My name is Kuzuryu, of the Gifu prefecture. It is said I'm a person of vision but to what end I do not know. I write this as witness to what I saw. I feel this is more important than anything I've ever come across in my life. I do not know what - if anything - will come of this writing. But I feel compelled to do it. May the gods have mercy upon us!