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

Monday, April 11, 2005


SECRET service agents interrupted the Conan O'Brian show last night, stopping a derogatory skit about the president in mid-stream. The W could be heard off stage egging the secret service agents on as they first cuffed, and then beat Conan O'brian to death with repeated punches to the stomach, doing permanent damage to the popular hosts' trademark red pompdour.

The W, as the president now requires by law that he is referred to in all press articles, then ordered the agents to, "Mace all their asses up good, and if they cry, you just go all ape shit on them alright? Cowards.... I won't have em', not in my country."

The W. then took a seat at Conan's Desk and addressed the late night talk show demographic wearing what has become his trademark look -- impenetrable black sun glasses and all black leather from his ankle length coat, shirt, pants, and steel toed boots. Sporting a new diamond ear ring, a blonde die job, and a tattoo, still bloody, of a cross on his forearm, the president then announced to a stunned world, "From here on in, the w is all about the music. Yea, the w is getting a band and the w is living hard, man... a new town, a new chick every night, man... like the w used to dream of.... before, you know, the w found out that he wasn't cool. Back then. He's cool now, of course. Hell I'm cool. AIn't I boys? See them secret service boys think the w is cool. SOrry guys about trying to get ya to eat those microphones last week. I was playing quarters with the girls before I came out for that speech. Tonight, the w sticking to the weed and beer and wine -- no hard stuff. Oh, yea, weed's federally legal now, blah, blah, blah... Just try and bust the w, man. The w got all his body guards smoking a doobie every two hours, man, and they are paranoid, more keyed up than ever. Don't let those red eyes fool ya. Unless your thinking they're crazy mad killers, and then you would be right. Now, the w is still gonna be president, I mean what the hell? But from this day forward, the w will basically be living for tunes, man. Just playing music, recording, touring.... the w has been told he can be a rock star. Man, ain't that the shits? The w means, president is cool, but.... shit, rock star's a lot cooler. My daughters are gonna sing back up. I guess this started as their idea... maybe? You know Clinton really thought he'd be able to jump from the presidency into playing in a band, and man, he wasn't happy when he couldn't pull it off and had to go back to lawyering (We have a secret tape of him lamenting all the 'pussy' he lost by never touring with a band).Anyways, see all the schools and libraries and shit will have to buy my record, because I'm prez., so we got a built in audience. The w got a cool band, too. . Ozzie of course is singing back up, with eninem and slash base and shit... whatever they do... for the lead singer, we're gonna have that guy who did Alvin and The Chimpmunks come in... that shits funny, and it touches me, man, like Elvis..... Weird Al is writing all the lyrics. The w made him poet loreaute of america today, too, which can only help the band. As far as running the office, it's always been a family business, and will continue to be. Dad will be around answering phones, and mom and other folks, you know, that I trust. Hell, whatever they say is fine. The w will come in one day a week, and whatever normal work falls on that day, the w will do it. No more, though -- the w don't want shit piled up on my desk when he comes in, remember that, or more will die mother fuckers. Rock on."

Bush then abruptly left the studio.

O'brian's signature pompodour survived the attack that took the late night hosts life, and was able to finish out the show. NBC was so happy with 'little reds' performance that the puffy locks was offered a full time gig as the new host of the late show.

Brian Tannedtocancer, the nbc executive in charge of late night programming, announced the new host at a brunch this morning that started out as a wake for Conan but quickly turned into a photo op for the irrespressible 'lil red.' The pompodour impressed the executives ast night by taking the reigns of the Conan show, after host had just been beaten to death by a surprisingly legal presidential decree, and taking up right where Conan left off -- despite the handicap of haveing to get the audience laughing and run the show, from the top of the head of the dead body of his predeccesser.

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