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!"
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
THE United States has a bit of socialism built into our Capitalist system. We should have had a bit more government control, instead of allowing the heartless market to just flip and flop about based on the anxiety of a bunch of frat-freak traders. The redistribution of wealth has been happening in the states always. This is a basic tenant of the old thought, Noblesse Oblige... the Obligation of Nobility. A lot of wealthy people are glad they pay taxes for nice streets, etc... schools, etc...
The problem has been that the political sides of the jobs associated with the governments, such as people who contract to do street work, have been given out to people who do political work for THE MACHINE. T^his means the best people do not get the jobs...
People then lose faith in the government to do anything. This denigrates all the millions of folk who have worked well for the government. Nepotism, chronies, etc...are the worst workers.
This is what people do here -- they find sponsors in the political world. This is another reason I got out of working in politics. I found raising money, which I was good at and inevitably ended up doing in some capacity, demeaning. Then when a govern er Celeste whom I worked for refused to close down a series of homes for the mentally challenged where the employees were taking them home and making porno movies. This was discovered two days before the election, and the Governor decided he would let it go on two more days.... My friend went to his opponent, the sitting Governor, and got those places shut down and the creeps busted. After that, I raised money for Citizens For A Better Environment when I first moved to Chi town. Politics is a nightmare. Serious, serious, shit. Soul crushing, hair graying.
I feel good about Biden, and have always known Obama was my choice, though I would have supported anyone who will turn around this train wreck of a country. The Neo Cons got their way, through trickery and lies that kept the opinion of the citizens from having anything to do with their decisions to go to war, and pass fiscal policies that destroyed the surplus Clinton brought to the country, and the US people have woke up, and are not going to let the damned ones lead us any more.
If Obama loses though... I heard two young black kids on the train discussing how they would jump in front of a bullet for Barrack, and how they wanted to be his body guard. When one saw my hat, we bumped fists and talked politics for a minute.
The night before, coming home from a Halloween party in a suite, the train was packed but this one guy had his small bag on this seat, and he was one of these angry young black guys who is going to do whatever he can get away with... I point at his bag and say, Hey, I need you to move your bag so I can sit there.
He looks at me like he can kick my ass. I pick up his bag and toss it into his lap, sit down and since he is half on my seat, I shove him back and keep my elbow on his ribs, because he is doing the same to me. Mary Ann was all worried because this guy was looking at me like he could kick my ass. I was ready to destroy him at the slightest move with two fingers into his throat and my thumb into his eye. He was just a pussy though. We sat there, me in that cold anger I get when injustice makes me choke... I am one fearless mo fo. I know my Father has plans for me, and that I will win any righteous fight that I get in. I have never picked on people, been a bully of any sort, and am polite as hell with everyone at first, though I take no shit from anybody.
Strange, how different life is for people. The angry guy and the two kids filled with hope. I imagine the one guy had been in jail. He had the look, and what he was doing was just so over the top ... he had this tiny bag and the train was packed.
I of course was in a lot of pain, from having done a bit too much for my broken back. I had been up all the night before working, then went to operation push, then spent six hours at a party... so my pain level was intense, despite my even taking a couple vicodins on top of my usual hand full of pills... This is usually when I go off, I hate to say. Being in pain twenty four seven effects everything. I have some mornings when I wake with barely any pain, or none, though if I do not take my pills within a half hour or so the pain will catch up with me. Funny how straight I was all those years going to school and working out, with cigarettes and coffee my only vices... and that now I am forced to use drugs. Weird ironies in life.
The socialist shit about Obama is crazy. I guess the entire neo con block are panicking at this point. THe racist skin heads are going to get a big surprise. Their children will study in school a great black man who straightened out the country, and became a great world leader who lived his entire life in the service of his fellow man. Or they will go into their home schools... these scare the hell out of me. I am completely for public schools, though of course they need to be funded correctly, and run by people who have nothing to do with Scientology. The world needs to collectively, like scientists, all move toward the truths together, not just shatter into a bunch of different myths that we all try to defend to our death.
This is why I do not care what religion someone is or is not, I care about their ethics, philosophies, behaviors, curiosities, potentials... I am interested in the ways that people experience God. I hate the use of God to make money, though... the cults that sell bottles of water for eighty bucks and teach basic breathing techniques that make them think the water is responsible for their burst of serotoni. I learned how to start a cult, and easily could with my knowledge... what a sickening idea. I was told that two were started by my writing. This is not my intent. I am here to scribe to words that God feeds me... I will soon enough share all of my eastern knowledge and hypno stuff on mp3's you'll be able to use to get to sleep, take mental walks, etd... some are very intense. OTHERS, like reincarnation therapy, I would have to do in person, because you are supposed to stop people from reexperiencing your death... and my visions were both of the times just before my death, I think... in one, I was a torry, and being dragged down to a pier, in Boston, and hung. I had the knee socks, a fat gut, one of those white wigs... in the second I was a native american running through very tall, brown grass... we were fighting a calvary unit, though we had no horses. Oddly enough, my brother Mike had much the same native american vision, and we later found out we have some native american blood on my mother's side. Her father really looked like a native american. He was short and stocky with jet black hair right up into his eighties.
You are welcome to spread my poems by ANY MEANS NECESSARY.
There is some overlap... but they are all different.