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

"You better put down that religion right now!"

Well, maybe I am delusional to tell this kind of thing to a dog, but only time will tell. I just don’t want animals to make the same mistakes that lead humans to become such hypocritical clouds of shit specks.

Though M., with her tendency to JUMP TO CONCLUSIONS, thinks I am ‘wasting time that I should be spent working on that ‘damned book’ and painting more salable landscapes and what not. Oh, how cold my soul grows at the thought of painting hotel room landscapes.. that is probably her plan for me in the end though, I might as well admit it. This explains a lot, because I can’t figure out why she would keep a darko like me around.

Of late she has gone from naysayer to censor, by the way. She won’t let me tell other people about the security checks we went through when I became, foolishly enough, convinced she had connections to osama bin laden. Hey, I had some evidence, that has been since lost, but… yea, not supposed to be writing about that. M. can be very mean about this shit. I hope she is comfortable wearing the cloak of a censor, that is all I can say….


(now M. is making me come back and say that she really didn’t call me names, and also didn’t say anything at all except that she wasn’t sure she liked being used a censor).

I’m not letting her read this anymore. A strategical error, for sure.

I painted one sorta traditional landscape of the moon over the lake, and now she thinks I am going to continue the style, just because people ‘like it so much.’ This alone would be enough for me to never, ever paint a traditional landscape again, but that M., she is a materialist and gets all weird when the electricity goes out and stuff. At times like this I have a tendency to tell her, “Hey, deal with it whine-ass,” since I always forget that it is beyond her, or something, because of instead of the expected laugh, she gets all pissed. There is no logic to her moods!!!

Ruby dog is the only one who listens to my lectures now that the hamsters are gone. Of course, no matter how weighty and important my words, Ruby mistakes any and all attempts at communication as a hint that we are going for a walk. I have tried in no less than four languages to tell her how to kill, still won’t listen, just starts bounding about and chasing the cats and all sorts of other somewhat baffling signs of perfect happiness that she experiences at the merest thought of a walk. No dark side at all. With the possible exception of hamster eating, though the verdict is still out on that one and probably will be until M. backs off this stiffling ‘No Torture’ policy.

I have to talk to them. I don’t care if the neighbors bitch. Sometimes my lectures get heated. What can I say. You try reasoning with these three all day, as they contemptuously keep their silence, letting you go on and on. They talk amongst themselves, I am convinced of this (even though I faked tapes that I tried to tell M. was the cats and the dogs talking, and now there seems no way to even approach this topic with her…. Like I say, just no logic to that woman’s moods

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