WAKING UP JESUS
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!"
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
we're going to die here
I believed, last year as I wrote this, that the FBI became very worried at this point. I later saw something on tv about Mango And The Slaughter. I by then knew I had started a revolution that they were not going to let me physically lead. America put up a hell of a fight with me... anyways, here is the story, which was written while my life was indeed in danger because of the revolution my presence evoked.
"We're going to die here." I am surprised that I sound amused.
"Yeah, maybe." Mango doesn't let on whether he cares or not.
"Fuck, maybe." I hold the pistol at my side like a gun slinger...
I can hear them getting in the car behind us, starting up the truck and leaving. . . I give my soldiers and my loved ones a running start.... I'm surprised by how calm I feel. I hear them inside yelling, cursing, figuring out what we've done...
Mango's shotgun explodes off to my right.
I can feel the projectory of the bullet from my gun into the man who steps into the doorway... the barrel of his uzi spews flames that leap into my mind as blackness devours the world.
Get that whole NO ONE WINS PART OF THIS???
Or the ready to die part????
I HEARD THE FBI IS WORRIED ABOUT SOMEONE STEALING BUSES????
THEY SHOULD HAVE GIVEN US THE BUSES BY NOW. SHUT DOWN THE SCHOOLS AND TAKE THE BUSES IF peace PEACE peace PEACE... THE PEACE IN YOUR HEAD SAYS YES... THAT MEANS HUMANS ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN BUSES...
ALL WE SHOULD NEED ARE LAP TOPS.
But what do I know? How to write and live... the experts need to take over on this, and keep the peace... as long as the gangsta generals agree.
I leave them in charge and do not talk to them. My soldiers are all equal to me; we just specialize in different shit. Me, I walk the path of Dan Stern. I am ghandi with an uzi in his diaper...
I will do anything to save my enemies life except give up mine. . . or stop, in any way, this CRUSADE OF PAIN