Machine Gun God

"Hans, do you hate the Jews?"

"Pretty much do now."

"But before - before the camp was built. Did you hate them then?"

"I heard the talk but never much thought about it. You expect me to go out on some sort of research expedition?"

"No, no. But you hate them now?"

"It's our duty. They wouldn't have us loading them into the kilns for no reason. They must have done something pretty awful to cause all this to happen."

"Ja, that's what I thought too. It would be crazy to order this unless there's a good reason. But my wife says we should each judge for ourselves what is right and wrong."

"Don't talk treason, Frederick. No man is bigger than the state. If you're going to start causing trouble I'm going to stop talking to you."

"Oh, it's nothing like that. But her Christian god will punish us, she says, if we are unjust."

"You think too much."

"But what if it's true!"

"It can't be. If this is all murder then what justice can there be? How can these people be brought back to life? All these orphans growing up alone, how can that be fixed? Punishing us later fixes nothing. If there's a god of justice that god has to stop the wrongs before they happen, OK?  I don't see anything stopping us."

"The Americans are coming."

"I've heard that too. But are they your god of justice?"

"I don't know. I don't know if they fight for the Jews or not."

"If they win the war, will they stop? Will they let go of war or will they go on warring, always looking for someone new to kill? They could be just like us."

"Will they be angry for us working here at the camp?"

"How can they be? Wasn't our idea to do this. The commandant says we are serving our country. We just do as we're told like good people do."

"Even Heinrich? He has a picture of the Fuhrer in every room in his house. He says the Fuhrer is a force for good. They'll leave him alone too?"

"Heinrich is an asshole. He just likes anybody that makes him feel good about being an asshole."

"Do the Americans put their Jews in camps?"

"How should I know? But I don't believe they are any better than us. If their President said to kill and rape women and children, they would do it. It's OK to do that to the enemy."

"So Jews are our enemy?"

"That's what's been decided. They cause bad things to happen. You can read about it anywhere."

"Yes, I know. So when they're gone, you'll be happy?"

"Me? My life is shit. I got no life. No woman can want me. To die would be good."

"You blame the Jews for that?"

"Feels better to blame them than me. I'll do anything not to face myself." Hans turned to look directly at Frederick. "Anything."

"But what if everything we're doing is wrong? Maybe we shouldn't be killing anybody. If this is a giant lie, how do we wash the blood from our hands? How can we be forgiven?"

"Stop it, Frederick! That is too horrible to contemplate. We mustn't think of such things. Do you not like providing for your wife and children? Do you remember how we struggled before we got camp jobs? Do you want to go back to that?"

"Of course not...but not everything can come down to money, can it?"

"Sure as hell has been so far."

Funeral For A Planet

"But we made the numbers work..."

It's nothing personal, Earth, just business. Someone once said you can't serve two masters but that person wasn't a businessman so no one listened. But get this: Nothing comes before business! If Nature gets in the way then Nature has to go! That's just good, commonsense economics. Idealism has its place but one has to be pragmatic and always, always, always put numbers first.

When one starts a business, no one asks: "Is it in tune with Nature and the universe?" That would be nuts and wholly irrelevant. Instead we ask: "Do the numbers work?" Numerology is our actual religion. It's called practical and real because it requires no conscience. Bring the conscience in and things go all to hell. Order must be maintained - and if we all believe in living a lie then living a lie maintains order.

Until we become extinct, of course.

The propaganda is so overwhelming and all-consuming at this point we barely blink an eye when we see it. Soothing commercials of pleasant lifestyles parade across our eyes nonstop, implying we've achieved civilization and the good life is out there waiting to be had. We have those living in false idealism, of "saving" the world in conjunction with our number worship. In our hearts we know we can't win going down this path - and it's eating us alive.



I have been to the Lost Mountains and inhaled their ancient mystic dreams waiting for the inevitable release. Anyone can visit them but few seek them out. Most fear what they might find, of what they may see and hear from that which cannot be conquered by Man. Under the rumbling ground I felt the pockets of repressed love ready to explode. Once released, there will be no going back. Anything not in accordance with that love will be wiped out - numbers be damned for all eternity. Then we'll be forced to face that only Love is pragmatic and everything else is death.

This calls for wisdom: let the one who has understanding calculate the number of the beast,
for it is the number of a man, and his number is 666.

Facing The Echoes

Boyfriend Of The Moment (BOTM) was ringing her phone. She did not pick up. Talking, breathing, living - these things held no interest to her. It was all she could do to grapple with the alternate universe in which she found herself.

She'd taken her vacation to Los Angeles alone for a reason. That reason she would take to her grave. L.A. was where she belonged. In the group tour she'd taken of the Hollywood Bowl that afternoon, only she was shattered and unnerved by it. "This is the only way I'll ever walk on this stage." The reality of it collapsed her within her own private rapture. She couldn't afford to let anyone see that.

The invading ringing phone on her motel nightstand wanted to hear all about her Instagram-worthy vacation. But all she could think about was returning to the Midwest dive bars where her singing career had stalled for the past ten years. She'd have to stand on the stage and somehow pretend her life was on the straight and narrow even has she now faced it had gone off the rails for good.

L.A.'s siren call had to be answered. She kept hoping when she finally made the trip it would be because she was pursuing her ticket to success. But ever since she refused to audition for a recording contract - refused to see if she truly had talent or delusion - the ice beneath her feet had slowly melted, forcing her to run away to the place she'd once believed she deserved to be.

Part of her begged her not to return, to forget the smoky bar faces that awaited her in bored fascination. She would stay on here, start over, become a new person, to at long last become unstuck! "Don't answer the phone. Answer only to yourself." But her network of support was back in Abilene. That's where she'd be safe to rot.

Dreams aren't safe, she thought. Being dreamless is the practical thing to do. What was it BOTM said? "I love you...and I don't." Her entire life was like that: one foot in, one foot out. But that recording audition was a once-in-a-lifetime offer, never to return. She lied to herself just to be able to keep singing. "Tomorrow I'll audition..." That stage she walked on today - something about hearing the sound of her own shoes as she crossed - told her she's just one more person on the scrapheap of history wishing for talent that was not there or allowed to flourish.

"Fuck me in the ass. I'm good for nothing else," she actually said aloud to a previous BOTM. He was more than happy to oblige because even the mere threat of her having talent was something his no-talent ass needed to destroy. Besides, if she could convince herself of her unworthiness then how could she be a failure? She was like a drunkard who spent every last cent on getting the next drink. Easier to chase a rainbow that can never be reached than be caught fooling yourself in front of the whole laughing world.

Like a needle in her arm, she injected the despair, sprawled out and strung out on a cheap motel bed at the edge of the universe. What would happen if she stopped lying and pretending? What if she broke down and confessed her life a massive disappointment and to its nightmarish existence? She couldn't see the point in that. At least her lies bought her acceptance of the romantic notion of publicly still chasing a career; just another corrupt politician.

Unable to move forward or backward on the railroad tracks of life, she simply decided to let the train run her over, a mercy killing. Trapped in Heaven, she looked down to see the enormity of the talent she left unshared. Even in death she couldn't get away.

The Real Big Con

It's not just that all the world's a stage. It's that all the world is a fraud. We've set up false metrics for success to give ourselves cover - but whom are we deceiving? Our Maker? The universe? Or simply each other? But guess what. Fooling you into believing I have a million dollars doesn't mean I get to live like a millionaire. Yet that's the game we are playing: even when you win you lose.

I have nothing and am nothing. But I have to pull off the con otherwise day after day after pointless day. It's meaningless. Look around you. The whole world is in cahoots kicking the can down the road of the day of reckoning. What farce. I'm sick of it. I'm tired of dragging around the weight of my lies.

Everyone is.

The ending to our Dance Of Death is already known. We get the room to cheer a plausible sounding hope but it's an illusion and the mood fades like a vanishing vapor. That illusion is the worst drug of all. It keeps us from embracing actual solutions. Until that time, all acts are meaningless.

Because we know the futility of what we do, we're cracking at the edges, like a paper that burns from the outside to the center we are being consumed. Just a matter of time before your turn comes. Hope died on the cross two thousand years ago. But as long as there's any piece of paper left, we continue to say the burning is not a problem. Don't forget to duck from the mass shooters.

You'll hear pieces of truth - mostly from those who have nothing to lose - but never whole cloth. All the "heroes" are zeros. Only have faith in yourself. There's nothing else left - thank God.

The words of the Teacher, son of David, king in Jerusalem:

“Meaningless! Meaningless!”

says the Teacher.

“Utterly meaningless!

"Everything is meaningless.”

What do people gain from all their labors

at which they toil under the sun?

Generations come and generations go,

but the earth remains forever.

The sun rises and the sun sets,

and hurries back to where it rises.

The wind blows to the south

and turns to the north;

round and round it goes,

ever returning on its course.

All streams flow into the sea,

yet the sea is never full.

To the place the streams come from,

there they return again.

All things are wearisome,

more than one can say.

The eye never has enough of seeing,

nor the ear its fill of hearing.

What has been will be again,

what has been done will be done again;

there is nothing new under the sun.

Is there anything of which one can say,

“Look! This is something new”?

It was here already, long ago;

it was here before our time.

No one remembers the former generations,

and even those yet to come

will not be remembered

by those who follow them.

Keep pretending. Keep looking.

Modern Tales: Let's Shoot Whitey!

For some, more is never enough. Two dark-skinned fellows dressed in the finest of linen surveyed a neighborhood inhabited with white-skinned folks. Little did the whites know their property had been deemed "valuable" and thus it was time for them to go!

"Just like pulling weeds, isn't it, Mortimer? Got to get rid of the infestation for the flowers to grow."

"Well said, Randolph. Time to get rid of the last of the white niggers!"

Mortimer, gas can in hand, sauntered royally over to the first house spewing accelerant on the side of the house as a curious neighborhood couple watched.

"What ya think that man is doin', Jemima?"

"I nots know but dem is dark folks an' we need to be respectful of 'em," she whispered.

Randolph then walked over and casually set the house ablaze. An angry white man came rushing out into the yard just in time for the TV camera crew.

Mortimer gestured towards the screaming man as he spoke to the newsman. "You see, there's no living with this type of angry people. They are never satisfied, always wanting more, but instead of doing something about it, they just simply blame us innocent darks for all their problems. Outrageous how they stoke the flames of hatred!"

Cleaning up the neighborhood!

The neighborhood whites organized a protest which was quickly condemned by the dark-skinned. "They just need to be quiet! They keep causing trouble like this and something bad will happen, just you wait and see." And to ensure this, the dark-skins ordered the police to shoot a white protestor. "See! We warned you! We're trying to keep the peace but uppity whites won't let it happen."

Furious whites tried to make their case to a prejudiced public but their concerns were dismissed as the whites were labeled an "angry mob trying to score political points. Next thing you know they'll be saying Jesus was white!" Mortimer and Randolph claimed in reality they were the true victims, suffering unfair attacks and any outcry against them was simply sour grapes about their economic success.

Watching the debates on TV had Mortimer and Randolph howling with laughter as their bald-faced lies were repeated ad nauseum. Fueled by an argument of victimization, crackpot dark-skins savagely attacked the neighborhood whites until they were forced to flee (to someplace less valuable). Soon, wonderful (no whites allowed) condominiums were erected and everyone non-white lived happily ever after.

Another whitey complaining

Modern Tales: Leroy LoveJoy Linville

I don't want to die...I don't want to die...

"All my worth, the entirety of my life, is in my bank account. It's what makes me special in the world. I don't need anyone nor heed anyone. No one can argue with money. Right or wrong, I live as a king among peasants.

"It's so wonderfully artificial, this feeling. Nothing real to be attacked. I live in the floating world, unstrung by responsibilities, feet never touching the ground, aloft in a sea of servants living in self-imposed chains who live to grant my every wish.

"I need be nothing to have everything, the free ride dreamed of by the masses. A zero in life - a hero in lifestyle. Walking the streets, I'm the envy of the bustling crowd straining at their leashes to live the life that's passing them by. I pass through portals they can never reach, for I own my time. This is the magic of money, its power runs through my veins like an electrical current.

"Money gives our puny lives purpose, meaning and direction; accumulation is your growth. It is the alpha and omega. No life does not suffer without it! The need for it is inescapable. You can try to fight against it but all roads lead to surrender. Face the inevitable and serve your master. There is no other way."

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I want to live...I want to live...

"All my worth, the entirety of my life, is in my heart. It's what makes me special in the world. I need be someone to have someone. No one can argue with love. Right or wrong, one must have it to be alive.

"It's so wonderfully true, this feeling. Nothing unreal to survive attacks. I live in the floating world, freed by responsibilities, feet firmly touching the ground, aloft in a sea of servitude, gaining myself by giving myself.

"I need love to have anything, the dream ride of every living soul. A hero in love - a hero in life. Walking the streets, the bustling crowd straining for love to live the life that's passing them by. I reach the wonderland only two can share, no wasted time. This is the magic of lovr, its power runs through my veins like an electrical current.

"Love gives our puny lives purpose, meaning and direction; accumulation is your growth. It is the alpha and omega. No life does not suffer without it! The need for it is inescapable. You can try to fight against it but all roads lead to surrender. Face the inevitable and serve your love. There is no other way."