The ongoing story of Jesus waking up in Chicago, in the body of an agnostic writer,
who is nothing like the Son of God the right-wing Christians watching him expected.

You are welcome to share my work with a link bank... keep getting asked this...

Last time I was here, I told them I would not lead a revolution, that I was there to spread heresy. The crowds thinned. The day they killed me, I marched alone... This time I have returned to find Romes Soldiers Sleeping, content they have killed off the Troublesome Jew. I was surprised how bloody the Indiana boy became as my sword fell again and again ....

In the years since this story began in 2007, my secret fame has spread out from the halls of power that kept me secret all these years, as they waited for the Christ to finally wake up...

I try to imagine their anticipation.

Remember a dream I had in my twenties about running thru Chicago screaming that Christ was coming back, and man oh man was I happy... a cloud came through the middle of the skyscrapers above me, in the thin strip of blue above Dowtown State street, and I expected to see Christ... instead, just a bunch of musicians painted up like Ziggy stardust.

I surprised my keepers. They thought they had me figured out from the Bible. If that book could have told you everything, there would be no need at all for me.

Jesus: "I have become Known across this planet as a dangerous man with a growing force of hidden followers who value my orders more than life itself. A prophet of war. Once and future King in a court of shadows. Life and death in my hands every damn day. I ROAR, your most mighty shit themselves and run. I make myself a known threat, so I can try to negotiate what otherwise requires bullets and blood. I am here to free the enslaved in body and mind. I cannot be defeated. When the Will of God and The WILL OF THE PEOPLE ARE ONE, NO FORCE ON EARTH CAN STOP US!"


We come into this life expecting too much and leave expecting too little

Wednesday, April 13, 2005


The mighty hamster army is almost ready to replace the failed star wars program with kamikaze hamsters, who will fly up into any nuclear bombs headed toward the elves attic, and blow them up safely out over the Lake.

The hamsters up here, as I say, in what you humans seem to perceive of as a purely mental dimension that is quite possibly chemically inflated.. Thousands of them are alert and ready to fly off at the first sign me or m or the pup or the kitty bum are in the least bit of danger of being bombed.

On the physical dimension that I share with the smelly humans, the results of my work have not been quite so stunning. Oh yes, like Star Wars, there have been problems
Today I set up four pilots and told them that bombs actually were headed for the elf. I expected them to rush off to save me. I mean, I have been filling them up on the idea of a heaven, drilling them on how I am next to god and they better do what I tell them, and all sorts of other crap that is required to properly brain wash an army into doing anything -- including the ultimate sacrifice... They should have responded like speed freaking japs in ww 2.
Instead of flying off for the bombs, though,
they decided to sacrifice themselves rather than save me.

I could not believe it when I saw them developing velocity in the last few feet and literally exploding on contact into red balls of unraveling intestines and other related blood and gore. .

I can only assume that they were all plants from some dark power that is creeping over the land, as sauron out of mordor.... probably from someone either in government or industry who stands to lose power or money if star wars is ever just scrapped for something crazy -- like peace.

M. just came home... Oh, great, she walked in the door, came up to the computer and is now glaring at me and the words coming up on the screen.

So let me add, I may or may not be responsible for the hamsters splattered about in the courtyard of our apartment building.

Oh, here it comes...

M: "Why are there bloody, crushed hamsters glued to paper airplanes all over the courtyard?"

"Those are not my hamsters."
"Oh, yea, and where are those hamsters you got?"
"My great storm of a fighting force is training in the ... I can't divulge that information. A lot of stuff to do with my army has to remain top secret, M., I mean, you're not exactly the type to stand up to torture, you know?"
"I won't listen to one more word of your babbling until you clean up the courtyard."

Luckily, I was prepared for this contingency. I held off feeding the mighty red ruby dog both breakfast and dinner. She has really developed quite a taste for hamster due to the often-rebellious nature of the mighty hamster army (I really need a better, more heavily adjectived name). Hamsters are not easy to train, believe me. I lecture and lecture, of course, doing my best. Because, like they say to the kids, if you do your best, everything will work out just like you want it to (and yes that is my own personal jesus; silly looking boy, ain't he?)..

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