Thursday, August 24, 2006

Risen, And Quite Upset

The Visions of Deacon

Jesus Christ came back the other day.

"I didn't want to make a big deal of it," he explained as we sat in a McDonald's booth eating lunch.

I nodded and popped another McNugget into my mouth. "What do you think of the food?" I asked.

"Heavenly. I mean, back in the day it was mutton or fish. That's why we dosed our wine with mushrooms. You didn't mind eating the same thing every day if you were zonked out of your gourd."

"Yeah, I get that. I ate baked beans and mac n cheese every day for a few months once. Money was tight. So, uh . . . what're you back for?"

Jesus took a ravenous bite from his double quarter-pounder. Grease splashed into his beard. "I thought I'd go to the Middle East, stir up enmity between the Jews and the Muslims, trigger Armageddon, then ride forward to lead my army against . . ."

He must have noticed my eyes getting wider and wider, because he stopped.

"I'm totally fucking with you, man," he said.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Naw." He waved his hand dismissively. "That's just bullshit hype. I'm here to do some surfing."

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Prophecy #14

Saint Walter stood on the steps of the public library and looked upon the multitude.
He proclaimed, "I consider five or six people a multitude." And there was triumphant rejoicing.
People stared at Saint Walter, bored and tired and hungry.
Saint Walter proclaimed, "I consider five or six bored and tired and hungry people staring at me to be triumphantly rejoicing."
There was the bleating of traffic horns and the swish of the library doors.
And as Saint Walter stood he felt the mischievous spirit of prophecy come over him. "I come with a warning, and with a prophecy. People will not believe you when you repeat to them my words."
"That's because people don't believe lies," heckled a man in a red t-shirt.
'Fuck,' thought Saint Walter. 'They figured that one out. Oh well.'
"Nation will rise against nation and kingdoms against kingdoms and provinces against provinces and regions against regions and regions against provinces but not the other way around, no way. And there will be genocide and homicide and suicide and lots of other -ides. Basically, just beware -ides on the march. Also earthquakes and floods and famines and natural disasters. You might think natural disasters are just natural, but I'm here to tell you that they are expressions of divine anger against a number of social causes. The divine acts out sometimes, but it's done out of love. Just be careful because lots of bad things are going to happen and this is totally a prophecy. All of those things I have mentioned will be a portent of a great tribulation."
"Yeah," heckled a woman with blue ribbons in her hair. "The great tribulation called history."
"Fuck," said Saint Walter. "I need hecklers that aren't so incredulous."
"That might help," heckled a boy with a pimple on his nose. "Or you could try not to be so gullible yourself."

Monday, June 26, 2006

Out of Bounds

Saint Walter approached the lunch counter. He eyed the menu. He eyed the burly manager. "Give me a job!" he decreed.
The manager looked him over. "How do I know you aren't illegal?"
Saint Walter thought on this for two full minutes. "Have they started outlawing Saint Walters?" he asked timidly.
"No, no. Are you in this country illegally?" The manager was clearly annoyed.
"They have started outlawing people, then?" asked Saint Walter.
The manager grew even more annoyed. "Don't be a smartass. Now, you want a job here then I need proof that you're an American."
Saint Walter snorted. "What kind of American would ever demand such a thing? Proof? It seems I need proof that you are a human being."
"Get the fuck out of here."
And Saint Walter got the fuck out of there.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Eat your Wheaties

A street preacher stood on the sidewalk and exhorted the crowd to Find God.
"Seek not your earthly reward, there is none to be found in the secular world. Repent, and reserve Hope for a reward in the Kingdom of the Lord!" shouted the street preacher.
People flowed around the man as if he were a stone in a river.
Saint Walter snorted and made a gesture as if committing the sin of Onan, directed toward the street preacher.
A Learned Fool approached Saint Walter. "You think that guy's full of bullshit, huh, Saint Whatever? Why don't you tell me something spiritual?"
Saint Walter knew that silence was the wise answer. So instead he opened his fucking mouth, and spake thus:
"There is no Kingdom anywhere; There is Kingdom everywhere."
The Learned Fool looked Saint Walter up and down. "What a joke," he said. "Is that some kind of be yourself crap? I could've learned that from a cereal box."
And the Learned Fool joined with the current and disappeared downstream.
And Saint Walter remarked to no one and himself:
"What use has that man of Saints? He was enlightened by a cereal box!"

Friday, November 04, 2005

The Malitudes

August 27, 1978
Santa Ana, El Salvador
Saint Walter flipped off a llama and spat on the ground.
Gwen was there, and Deacon, and BugEye.
And Saint Walter began:
"Fucked are the masses, for there are far too many of them.
Fucked are the meek, for they are easily beaten into submission.
Fucked are the peacemakers, for they are ignored.
Fucked are they that would like even a little bit of justice, for it is in short supply.
Fucked are the tolerant, for they are surrounded by pricks.
Fucked are the merciful, for they can expect no mercy in return.
Fucked are the open-minded, for the commonest wisdom is narrow indeed.
Fucked are the poor, for they . . . well, they're fuckin' poor."