TRUE STORY:

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!"





WAKING UP JESUS...

WAKING UP JESUS...
We come into this life expecting too much and leave expecting too little

Sunday, November 09, 2008

my bitterness returns

I am so sick of being a poor american. So sick of being diabled and trying to live on next to nothing. Sick of all the politics around me. Before at least I had a good reason to sit all this shit out, because the neo cons were in control and I kind of looked at it like, there are two america's, one in which people like that exist, and one in which my friends exist.

I never expected the two to mix. The world I studied in University is so far from the everyday man in the street knowledge that I assumed the ideas that helped me the most, philosophy and critical thinking in general, were either beyond the masses, or there was some conspiracy of the right that was going to do whatever the hell they wanted, no matter who was elected. I liked Gore and Kerry, but there was always a part of me that wasn't sure they could really make any difference in this world. I had come to expect little more than headaches from the government, and the prevailing political attitudes of my own country.

It is like there are all these liars on both sides, though the right is definantly willing to more a moral than the left. When I decided to use their own weapons against them, the last thing I expected was any kind of hew and cry, let alone what transpired... watch what you wish for, because you may not really want it.

When I was offered a leadership role, indeed mistaken for someone who would even think about running for president, I had to puzzle out why I was hearing these ,messages... what, I wondered, had I said that made people think this? I wrote about my heritage in a mania. It means nothing to me at all that my ancestors were kings. Nothing. Certainly not as much as the dirty dishes in the sink, or the few bucks left on my food stamps. Made for a good story when I was writing a gonzo history of myself, and trying to tell people that these are all the things I NEVER BRAG ABOUT. You would hardly have seen in my work anything even close to self promotion, before the last couple years. I hate talking about myself, though I seem to end up doing it a lot for someone who does.

I feel like someone who made a pact with satan to be famous, so I got famous in the worst way possible. I should have just let you humans do what you are going to do, and left you alone. I am sorry that I bothered trying to save any of you. Sorry that I cared about people at all. If I could, I would destroy all of this shit and start over with dogs and cats, maybe a couple penguins. Have a nice quiet planet again, without all the pollution and hatred and crime and...

yea, right. I think it is time to quit writing for awhile. I am just too cynical today.

















You are welcome to spread my poems by ANY MEANS NECESSARY.
http://theelvesattic.blogspot.com

http://thereligiouspsychokillershitlist.blogspot.com

HTTP://generalfactorx.blogspot.com

http://secretposse.com

There is some overlap... but they are all different.

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