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

Sunday, January 10, 2010

the reality of the mission grows distance

They tell me this messiah
 is here
right now
to herald
the end times

my love of peace
shattered by their injustice
my heart spitting out fragments of hate
gone is the child who loved it all

the hand of God can carress
or close into a fist mighty enough to smite the very cosmos

I wave my hand and the
science versus magic debate ends
the mystics and researchers alike agree
we are getting ready to burn
the atmosphere off of this planet
leave a few roaches
to die in the flames

prophesy and charts collide
ignited by the same spark
by a computer model
we just couldn't believe this could happen
to us positive thinking folks
that God would let this world burn...
the minister's for the rich said nothing about this on Sunday
in their polite sermons

Prophets have seen this end since the beginning of bibles

behold the flames to come
the exploding star in my chest insures the destruction
MY DEATH sets off the End
The Reaper comes in wearing the visage of the Christ

are we glimpsing what God is doing to man?
or man to man
or a plan within a plan
within a plan
or no plan ...

nothing to fight
except sheer entropy
the winner
in every war
Time's Champion

the ancient prophets
heard from timeless beings
idle travelers with no reason to lie
they were given glimpses into what the eyes cannot see
and the flesh cannot feel
a realm with a living God of Endless Love

did they want the humans to prepare to die?
To know their end would come?
that all planets die and the souls leave?
Did they try to prepare them for the Pathfinder?
Provide you a Salvation myth?

I am an alarm clock
The Silver Surfer warning a planet that he heralds the end of life
Last Call for Salvation.
Bars Closing for good.
Get your last shot of Holy Water.

I am the solution to the positive thinking
that gave the first fish legs
the reaper standing at the end of the survival instinct
casting a spell to free you
the tight
 maddening grip
of the mortal coil that strangles you about your neck

that feeling of life
gonna go on forever
on every death bed

ancient myths of a world in flames show up in our Math!

The Bibles falls back on harvest worship
says God made this world to feed us
the women to give birth
children to sow the seeds
as if we were God's only concern in the vastness of time...
as if we were not fledgling souls
still preparing to go meet our maker
cycle through life after life

were man wise
 he would not wish for godhead
he would understand that every bodi tree
comes with the pangs of starvation
And every Calvary is Steep
there is the hatred
surrounding me again
See this in a lot of lifetimes...
you surround me and kill me
corrupting the youth
I leave seeds behind
that was good enough before
all I could do
an amazing failure is how it felt to me
time and again waiting for the final reckoning
like the head cases that pop up in the news
hiding out in caves or sheds or boarded up apartments
convinced by some charismatic that the end time is here
gave those people the ultimate Christmas gift for awhile
once in a dream I dreamt that Christ came back
I ran through the streets screaming the news
with a euphoric high like nothing but crack ever gave this body

the mission takes the taste out the food
the dawn out of the sex
warmth from the sun
the joy out of walking the dog on the beach
fills leaning down and rubbing faces with the kitten
with mourning of his coming death

alone the son of God watches as the souls prepare for the final flight
mourning every step of the way
the bloody transition

He Is Pain
He Is The Final Narcotic

the law is Godless
courtrooms scams
where whoever can afford the best lawyers
stays out of jail
--- where we treat humans like slaves/beasts/throw-aways/violent gangs
pit back against white
creates Nazi crap that stinks to all fucking high heaven

The Forever War Goes On*

((* footnote -- Joseph Haldeman's title for a fucking fantastic book))

relative man
pretends he is not
an animal that can be beaten to madness

stubborn dreams of times that never were
people who never existed
keep us telling us that we are more than we are
I am here to Humble Man
By My Example
I Will Show The Saints Within The Sinners

we are
 more worried about dicks
and cunts
and bananas
than we can admit from the pulpits of our suits

an atheist university raised and bred watches a spread sheet burst into flames
flashes on a horror
 he remembers
with part of his mind that he has never noticed using before
or something he remembers from childhood
--like a fear of ghosts
that he could remember as well as the
crisp bleached smell of the sheets in his boyhood home
In this story
he is a man who has refused for fifties years to waste time
on anything he cannot measure with a ruler
he ignites the co-incidence with his intellect and turns away from the flash of fire
leaves the solemn prophets of the coming end to do all they can to stop the Pain of the flames
to call out to the people to fill THE STREETS
to save what we can
for ever how long we can
who knows???
Maybe there is a Miraculous Cure coming?
My heart says not...

smuggled in
or planted
pretended to
tell me of
the subtle fights
they are always trying to draw me into
The Ways You Have Taken The Son Of God
and used me as a reasons to oppress others
to hate God's own creations?
You have sinned greatly against my NAME

My Forgiveness Was Not Enough To SAVE YOU From The Fires Of My Father's Hell
I am sorry you cycled through a burning in Hell
My Time Of Forgiveness Comes Every Moment Of Every Day
My Father's Wrath has always been greater than my Grace
I am troubled by your actions even now
As I try to tell you get ready to head out
The scarred warrior
remnants of broken chains cut into his wrists
as he slashes his sword into the hoards

The last time I raised my shaggy head
they drew first blood
on that cross
I could feel the nails in my hands and feet pulsing with indescribable pain
 as that awful night passed
provoked a God
destroyed the missionary of the One

returned with my armies know
my  father's vengance is dark indeed
Know my forgiveness is eternal..

I shattered Excalibur
scattered the bits to the ends of the earth
telling you to use the magic to make your shields
to protect yourself in this time of becoming

The History channel shows temples in Indian Jungles
where I studied Buddhists
before returning to my Calvary
telling them I had been oppressed in my homeland
a homeless monk who could hear wisdom in every voice
they welcomed the young Jew

They begged me not to return

I am the gift
given by another
the son of God
a Sacrifice
 to mankind

as I awoke they told me story after story
as they tried to explain me to myself
to influence my judgements
to sway the child who grew wings
the angels and humans
liars and the soothsayers
who put this narrative together for their own myriad of reasons

I lived beyond the crucifixion
gone underground
to avoid the Rabbi's and The Romans
My divinity bringing me followers wherever the Father sent me

The secret priests would believe my blood to be sacred
establish a mystical family of aristocrats
hidden from rebellion by staying just this side of the crowns

was the blood line taken underground
controlled by a discreet army with generations of covers?

others knew from then and always
watchers from times before the Christ
told by the Angels
one was coming who would spend thousands of years
doing the will of a God
the pathfinder preparing you for a journey to the face of God

the mythic
begins to understand we were one once
the big family
gathered around
A God
who brings his children home
then sends them out again to create their own destinies
a delighted parent always amazed by even the simplest crayon smiley face

the big bang blew us away from our God
sent out to play among the stars
the time has come to go home

led by the unseen doings of Angels to births
where I could weave another thread in the tapestry of God
 in various lands under various names
living thousands of years studying and steering all religions
a secret kept by angels
who fear no blood

2007 and I am asked to start a radical radio show
a week later I wake up from a mysterious coma
not knowing who I am
just that someone has been giving me messages through the television
a religious fervor to discover who I am consumes all
what I am
something has awakened within me
a hyper-personality aware of mystical currents
and a war for the soul of mankind
 I have no name for this thing... at first
a being inside me can call lightening from the sky and floods with his rages
The Sickeningly mad thought that I am The Christ
comes to me slowly
as I spend a week puking at my sink
in horrible pain
they were trying to stop me from doing the radio show
poisoning me.
the government wanted to keep me a secret
too liberal for the Bush Era
  Most of them had no idea what they were dealing with yet
I am above your levels of top secret
They came up to me on the street
and told me I was Jesus and the entire world knows
sent their president to offer me a crown

the convulsions in the news at my every word were difficult to believe
I did not know you would take me to be a Holy Man...
I thought myself a joker
a poet stirring people to feel and act
I did not understand the words of the Christ in my metaphors
the commands hidden in my raging words

the ones who encouraged me
could have been working for a CIA think tank
 or God
or both
certainly, if my mind is the result of the intelligence agencies
 they don't want me to know
pulling off some heinous break down of all personal freedoms
creating the ultimate agent provocateur to pull out all the crazies
I am the Frankenstein personality
 Hobbled together by the needs of military and the peace and war and justice and GOD
you have longed for with treacly love
and have forgotten to fear

a Manchurian candidate
never would have believed that was possible
but....  inside the Trojan Horse
there in lies the pulsing sun
the heart of Christ
a ghostly presence that takes my body and mind
fills the words on the page
my life with mourning and glimpses of ecstasy

They want you to think the internet just found a niche in the religions
that my words crept into the minds of kids
behind your backs
some preacher rose and fell
a performer came and went
another file for the ufo myths and secret societies and conspiracy myths
instead of noticing the faces behind the guns

Whoever was behind spreading disinformation about who I am
and I was one of them
convinced people the tale was taking a lot of strange twists
I did not know what was happening to me at first
The Rising scrambled my personality
I believe almost every myth they told me
all those folk who were wondering
when in the Hell I Was Going To Wake Up
and save this planet
the boy who grew wings...  the angel

Johnny The Ape you called me in your mock trial
Right then I ended the charades
the performance
I read as much in The Red Ey
 after I decided to get off the seroquel crap
that was driving me Manic
Like They Wanted Me

I had to reclaim my mind
right then the Mafia shit pissed me off to no end
The Pope came to me first
Brought Bush and The Fundamentalists
People I was surprised would come to my side came

pissed me off to no end that a trial was taking place
that they even wanted me to comment on
I had no fucking idea what they were talking about
they showed me a lot of money had been made during my campaign
that pirates had raised money however they had to
and laws were broken in my name
I had offered my forgiveness at the beginning

had they seen nothing sacred in what I did?
Did they find me a convenient excuse to break the law?
might as well have slapped my face as pretended
 that had I known
I would have went along with that kind of shit

used Johnny The Ape, alright...
I stayed out of your business and you should have stayed out of mine
I gave your kids the money to buy their way out of your sins
more of a favor than you would have done me

I wanted a purely Sopranos relationship with anything mobster
I never considered it any of my business
 until this shit at fearless radio
had my head up my ass

I knew when the gov. broke into my blog and told me if I was a Don i was going to jail
that i was operating out of my league
It was obvious to me then that there was shady money in the station
but what the hell could I do
my mission was to get a show out that was far left,
honest, and caused revolutionary action/political changes
The World was amazed when I refused to come out and great the crowds
How could I have marched onto a stage hearing your chants that I am alive
How could I be a hero to you when no one should be a hero to anyone
when we are all heroes the word ceases to have any meaning

 a poet told a tale that created religious ecstasy across the world
by offering to forgive everyone
and to take them to heaven
 party on, dudes...
this Christ ain't no fucking square...
better to burn out than fade away
Daddy told me as much when he fated me to lead the four horseman

Did they convince you the Joker burned the money because he only wants CHAOS?
even the Mafioso's told Spiderman
that no one would do anything except for money
or to fight those who make that choice...

Joker's Unite my poetry war started with.
Did they pretend the Joker was me in spiderman
they  shot it here while this shit was going on in 2007,
when they were throwing everythingexcept lead at me
Even that stupid movie Bolt
which was supposed to convince the kids my display was just a tv show
by showing a super hero dog who's show ended and now his super powers were gone
I should warn you all
God kills my enemies without my blessing

no matter how much they distort my message
They will be defeated
Their blood is on their own hands
God's ways are his own
Even the good die in this war
the life behind the symbol is undeserving
the sacrifice as innocent as a hamburger

the manifestations that flowed through me during the campaign
amazed me
teach me to be judicious which voice from my past
I will allow to hold council in my mind

In  this Christ is a blood lust
born of a species that was evolved
from beasts that fights for supremacy
or merely to get or not be food
that is the legacy of this flesh

Have you truly all turned against me?
 All of those who offered support?
 Or do you work in the shadows,
keeping me from even darker retribution?

Did the radicals who hate cops
think I sold out when I went with order
over senseless riots?
When I recognized that men and women are all workers
all deserve to do their best
that they would if our society had not fractured
the wealthy  no longer need the approval of the poor for anything

How can I not judge you mankind?
I brought you the hope of an a symbolic election of a black man
into a country  so racist
that it doesn't even realize it yet
tried to tell you to forgive everyone
send the troops home and give the middle east no more reasons to hate us

When I asked for peace you turned away
when I framed my peace in war you marched along
the wheel needs blood to turn

This world is based on kill or be killed
only with justice can the conflicts cease
Justice would stop the industrialized countries from killing off the rest of us

Maybe God Sent The Ultimate Suicide Bomber
 In His Son
A Being Without Hate
Who Aspires to Aide his enemies
as much as his allies
Total World Wide Destruction

just seems so absurdly unlikely
from a slovenly haired guy
with his Christmas tree up a little too long

what if I was created in a CIA think tank
the end product of MKL ultra
a leftest targeted with bullets that disappear with the magic words Plausible Deniability
hear of other spies and left wingers targeted all the time
not from the crazies -- in college classes
why do so many think they are Christ?  Gods?
What thin veil of humility do they break through?
Mormons tell ya all men become Gods

Is there a gateway from our mind to the universe
That can we can see through
just enough to glimpse our own overwhelming mystical worth?

Nothing has shown me as much
ignorant or intuitive
I am ignorant

"Live like there is no tomorrow.  Learn like you are going to live forever."

dogma for the foundation
lies for the beams
fictions for the stained glass windows
every truth hidden by a pile of lies

Perhaps  there is a creature called Gaia that captured our souls
and forced us to create a world of life
have we discovered we are trapped until we can figure out a way to burn all this shit down?
the dangerous visions of a nuclear age/the greenhouse/visions of a Christian Gods bloody return
speculations of a mind locked in solitary confinement
shadows on the wall controlled by my unconscious/memories/paranoias/
dreams that seem more real than the light of day

they great they showed me a Christ trapped in a cage with spikes pointing inward
in a cold castle
I was screaming out that I had a son


I have given them my grace
they made me a ventriloquist on  a cross
pretended the strings heading up to their Hidenberg reached all the way to Heaven

I gave you the Christ that rose up in my mind
That drove my life
Gave me the rages of a God with a vision longer than life
into a realm where flesh is meaningless
your deaths a promotion in a war
leading to a ticket

You know me from what you have been told by people who manipulate you
the words they tortured from me were the ragings they wished you to see
ask me off the rack
how I feel
and you may get a reasoned response

When I think of the mission given the Christ
I lose the ability to believe this can be happening
that a God really would destroy life for any reason at all

all those dead planets out there
might be saying something more than that there never was life there
like us before some event that we cannot begin to fathom
anymore than a kernel off corn
can imagine become a plant

my blood lust has risen and receded like a tide
sometimes the waves of blood splash over me
 and i laugh the laugh of a soldier whose won a battle
sometimes I am run as fast away from them as I can
 knowing the blood will feel like acid splashed on my soul

will the silence of the sky erupt in the Roar of angels?
The Babylonian towers tremble and fall
our last words the screams of the burning?

I know my followers that you would rather I preached on how to get a job
a lover
get off drink and coke and speed
stay out of prison
take you into a church
and repeat all the common shit you already know
give you a shot of good lord loving
 to keep you high
until the need comes around again

If I was to start a church
the scandal of my ways would never end
Fame showed me a world
where the opinions differ behind every pair of eyes
There is no pleasing more than a few people at the same time
prophets have usually found this out the hard way
I found it out
when I told my soldiers not to fight the Romans who came for me
I knew my Father's power could smite universes
feared nothing
As they nailed my hands to the cross
I discovered why he made me a man
to learn the pain

What do God's know of pain?
An invention of the process of the creation of life itself
a hammer hitting a nail
to the Carpenter

Was my mission Father to teach you of pain?
Do you rediscover your creations over and over?
Remembering and forgetting/fascinated and bored?

144000 are supposed to leave with me
what secret society is compiling that list?
The Masons?
The Bushes?
The Queen?
A loose affiliation of leaders, rebels, and their families?
Knowledge passed on and culled since the prophets first knew
True prophets kept in think tanks
writing obscurely for the interpretation of those who know
the same groups who capture the angels and remove their wings
to avoid creating a panic in the end time
a backlash against the 144000

or is it just a number so large that an ancient writer figured it encompassed all good people on the planet?

Did they find an alien child?  Raise him wondering what the hell...
got freaked out when he grew wings?

Did the left think they had found their savior
not realizing I was kidding about the violence in my stories
that I am not another Hitler/Mao/Stalin ready to purge the throw-aways
I am the leader of the entire human race
not the blacks or whites or browns or Mormons or Catholics or Hindus or Buddhists
no one can be demonized now
Satan himself is dead
the demons have been absolved and once more wear the white wings of the creator

the son of satan
an innocence sentenced to be raised in Hell
the light of the Lord finally shining on their faces as they emerge from the depths

I am the God of the prisoners you beat down and starve/I feel what they feel
the same rage at my jailers/the resignation that life is nothing but a day to day float through emotions

did they convince us all that I am an actor?
am I?

Wonder sometimes if I have already said all I can about this life?
yet I can't stop
just in case
you are out there

as I
if God has truly
sent a Christ To Chicago?

I have more belief than you
mine is deeper than I can dig out
sacred enough that I feel free to keep it as my secret
An ideation in my mind
given to me by an extrodinary period in my life
the kind of religious experience I had dreamed of having

the disappointed were ready for miracles and wonder
the end times
to be chosen among those 144,000

Your God is much wiser than you man
Saying you know his ways is the path to damnation
for pretending that all you know is all God knows...

start the forgiveness process
give the citizens peace even if we have to give their politicians hell

I started asking everyone to forgive everyone...

somehow they turned me around until I felt the war was vital
a crazed mission of a soldier just out of boot camp

turned me from wishing we could defeat the god-addled
into a peace-nik Christ... and yea I hate war all to hell but I do not object to cops with guns
kicked a lot of ass in my time and have a loud mouth but fighting just seems stupid to me

still...  the mysteries  of why I went from this belief to that to another calls into question
who programmed me and why?

When I was rationale enough to be myself
and realized someone had made this campaign about money
I had to refuse every dime
I wanted to earn mine honestly
do a show and make movies
sure my politics would have been there

Or is all I heard true
or is all I heard a grand mind fuck

The pills and pot and isolation leave me living for what is on the page
my only public face here in this blog, in the books about this

How would you feel if you were the armeggedon
if inside of you a bomb has been placed
and only God knows when the earth explodes

would the glory of an ark of human's traveling to the face of God
lessen your grief at the sight of babies face that you are going to kill

the sacrifices of all religions leading up to this one great act
the God of many masks being prepared by his Father for the merciless day
when the King Of Angels murders his loves
every lamb slaughtered a body he will hear screaming in the last days

The Christians who thought they were going to disappear
will freak out for a few human seconds before becoming joyously soul again

I remember the dream of armaggedon
lightening and lava flowing from my body
destroying all humanity
 after being given such a mission
could you look around at this earth
and not ache to die obscure?

My loyalty to mankind requires I remember this voice that rose within me
My  blood oath to history and the name Ridgway require me to give this story its due

Inside of me may be the greatest magic mankind has known
in my flesh wisdom passed down through genes in ways we barely glimpse
The future has come to me in dreams
my waking speculations make less sense
seem of times far in our future
a map that I have already followed in a future I can feel as real as today

The tv shows try to interpret me or spin what happened
After the revolution of 2007 and the world wide convulsions of my Rising
the backlash started...  I went from being shown people who all seemed to believe in me
to being portrayed as a cult leader
/a paranoid painter
/a lone wolf who convinced a scientist
that he was part of a secret society

I see the acknowledgement as a way of at least showing me cracks in the facade
around me that nothing has changed and no one takes orders from this silly ass blog

even steve martin and tommy smothers could be my buddies
using criticism as a way of not getting in trouble for mentioning me
after they openly slammed me on live tv

I doubt it

Think of this though man...  what is it about my words that they so fear you hearing?

What are they  are afraid I can tell you?

I have no answers.  For all I know they treat me like this to keep me writing.

My God
Make Them Grant Me This One Mercy

....  let honest voices ring in my ears
...  let honest humyns reveal all the have hidden


Your God is here now

Tuesday, January 05, 2010

The Troubled Deity Limps On... The Cross On His Shoulder A Cutting Weight

As always, I feel like more of an observer than a participant of life.  The media delivers moment by moment coverage of the stupidity and cruelty and innocence and imprisonment and dreams and hatreds.  There is no need to go out and become part of the mucky--muck.  No cab waiting for me, every damn twelve hours, to take me out and about the town.  I grew so sick of being out during those days.  If I came home for the night, that was where I wanted to be.  I ate carry out then, mostly.  I would come in with my dinner and eat with my cats, watching tv, alone and happy to be.  No pot in those days, mostly.  Just me the streets and the classes and the apartment filled with paintings and the friendly presence of the two kittens I had adopted the same day from the pound, and raised as little buddies.  Happy fellows they were, now in the past...  

The day to day whithers and dies as the power of my memories make the past more real than the now.  Seems like the years are separated by sheets of glass, not the dense physical changes that sweep away the old landscapes and replace...  I feel as if time has no power at all over my emotions, old loves linger decades later, old hatreds last forever, long after doing anything about them becomes absurd and plain out stupid and wrong.
I look through the panes of glass and see myself there again, doing this or that, the embarrassing, or images of ecstasy, and I am back there.  Usually I tend to cringe at what life has thrown at me, and what I have thrown back... for some reason the darker memories stand out -- I suppose that is one of those survival instincts, that wants us to concentrate on our enemies, be wary and remember them well.   Now most of them are un-needed but they linger on.  I guess this is why the elderly became the teachers, to warn the young of the lions in the forests.

Sometimes the past is a mental whip that I take out and lash myself with.  The cutting leather snaps up from my unconscious;  sometimes I just mentally shrug it off, but other times I try to examine why that shit would come up like that now?  I remember too many times where who I was is not who I wanted to be.  I guess that is the human condition. I went out into the world with a wild passion, and of course I made mistakes, but it is not like I have killed, raped, or stolen from people.   Luckily I was not raised to even think about crime as an option.  Thank God.  I read about a mother training her eight and five year olds to help her shoplift.  What a horror they have walked into.  Another mother used her son elaborately, even sleeping with him, as they conned everyone they could -- she raised him to be a confidence man, and then ended up making him murder an elderly woman;  they are presently jailed for life.

 I hate the idea of ever  being one of those people who will only talk about happy topics  -- a technique Scientology tries to use, because it brain washes you into cutting off your critical thinking abilities, keep you docile, so you will accept whatever.   I have to go there...  part of being an artist, as well.  I need access to every one of my emotions in my art.  I have a couple friends who are always doing that to me -- oh, we don't want to discuss that because it is depressing.  Odd.

I have punished the innocent, lost my temper, told what can be kindly referred to as tall tales just for the hell of it.  All the sins of excess.  Drunk and lost to all discretion, feeling how appalled everyone was only the next morning when my dreams are raw and my mind screaming there is no penance for allowing myself to become the vessel of evil... or so it feels, even if I just made enough of an ass of myself that my friends add an anecdote to my legend, or I wake up in an emergency knowing I am the shit that hit the fan.  A few times when I seemed like the only thing in the universe, a pinpoint of worthless pain that no one had any right to tell me I had to be, I reached for what was left in the bottle and swallowed and puked up into my mouth and poured in more burning whiskey and and swallowed again and again, not ready to waste one drop of the coming oblivion.  Reason enough for a young man with ambition to throw out his booze and go back to the gym.

No one is without sin.  We hear that a lot.  You would not know it from the judgement of the courts and the commenter's on the web.  OR you would think that sins have numbers beside them, one through ten.  God didn't say that this sin will only get you ten whacks, and that one will get you a dirty look.  I think the Catholics invented all those levels of  heaven so everyone has a shot at some kind of redemption, so the magic of the confessional booth remained untarnished -- these are magic men with these collars and pointed hats, they play it down but they say that they will be your lawyer before God.  Courts grew out of the old catholic system of paying so much to priests to get out of crimes.  And this came out of tribes paying each for deaths by fighting sometimes, instead of endangering everyone else with a war.  A man is killed, and the offender is made to pay off.  Keeps the family alive, where-as killing the perpetrator would give them a moment of satisfaction before they went into the poorhouse for the usual starvation and disease, if they were lucky.

I am here to show you there is a crux between the mystical and the material, a tear in the reality between flesh and spirit, and that I know how to traverse such tricky terrain, go in and out on this great rescue mission... to tell the human family to stop allowing their few differences to destroy our infinite sameness.

Everyone has a past.  Easy to forget this.  There are sins from all sides of the table.  Some are subtle, like being an asshole to the people around you.  Employees or service people.  Spouses and kids.  People do this.  Brutalize.  Sober, successful people who are filled with the dark side.   Their sins are impossible to treat.  Not like just putting down a bottle.

 They live in a past where they needed to act that way to gain some advantage...   Thank God if  you have an obvious problem like addiction that is kind of easy to address -- a lot of people get help for too much drinking, and that is the key to getting over it, learning to be a student and asking for all the help you can get.  It is there.  Once you are past thinking you have to do this on your own, and keep thinking for yourself the same thoughts that got you into trouble, you are there...  drunks tend to go back there once in awhile, so you have to be forgiving of yourself, not add to the self-hatred that makes drinking such a good pal in the first place (not that everyone drinks for this reason, but I did sometimes).

That is enough preaching on that topic.  I do not believe in total sobriety anymore at all... it works for some, but others do just fine with the usual self-limitations.  I am not saying go try heroin or something, but I do believe that human emotions can be horrible at times, and if you need to self-medicate to survive this mess, that is better than killing yourself... remember that, it is... sober people actually have a higher suicide rate than using drunks....oh well... better you stick to mild stuff like coffee and weed.  Even the occasional nerve pill, the benzodiazapines  that go under names like valium, klonizpan, xanax, etc... kill a lot of people.   Drink where it is safe if you need it, and man I used to love it and would never want anyone not to know that feeling a few times....   Now, though, Personally, I look at drinking as too heavy of a drug.  I mean, the stuff can really, really fuck you up.  Where-as with pot, you get a mild high, and your personality does not shift into asshole, or whore, or any of the other wonderful drunken personas I used to run into when i drove cab.  I really have met every type of drunk you can think of, and add to that six months as a bartender, and I can tell you that after a few drinks, people change;  I would enjoy talking to them when they came in, then they would becomes someone else and I would avoid them.  The utter sadness in that place drove me nuts some days.

After all that has happened to me, odd what haunts me the most are the people I miss, and the people who threatened me.  I can still rage over a slight 40 years ago...  weird how those rages can accumulate in a person, until they just burst into a school with a gun, or blow themselves up in a terrorist act.   And weird how the other side of the coin, what I also remember the most, is the people I loved.  Love and hate, the strongest emotions we have, seem to brand instances into my memory.

  I used to move on from one relationship to another without too much damage when I was in my twenties, then this last time I had to take a year off dating to deal with the emptiness and sense of betrayal.  Lesson learned.  Love is deadly.  Sex is a slippery slope that is a thrill to ride down.... I used to have a free love belief.  I did.  Sex was something immediate, existential, often unconnected to a relationship.  The release of my come meant it was over.  Sometimes the person I was with agreed with me, other times they wanted something more, and vica-versa.

Strange mating rituals we have here in the states.  I have been writing back and forth with an old friend from grade school, who tells me he has given up on having a relationship altogether.  It is the first time that I had ever heard someone in their forties just say that they had simply decided to be celibate.   Of course he is Catholic, comes from a home with a father who was sometimes an abusive drunk, and other times, like when he was around me, a great guy -- I liked him a lot, though my opinion changed when I found out he hit his fourteen year old daughter (an act that inspired the oldest brother, a boxer, to beat the hell of the man).  I remember all this so vividly that these people still seem in my life, though I have not seen them in thirty years.

What is remembered and what is forgotten is interesting to me.  The events since my awakening have a profoundness that keeps them forever close to the room I inhabit.  The sweeping visions of humankind as souls preparing for a cosmic journey still excites my chest and seems so fucking true.  I am still surprised that i am the Christ.  I expected things to be more miraculous, though they were pretty miraculous in their ways.

Joseph Smith believed as Allah did, that the words that came to him were evidence enough that God exists and was using them.  They  were inspired by a muse much like mine I suspect.  I wonder sometimes where I come in, who  I was as my soul wove from body to body?  The only memories I have of past lives are of Christ, and those brought up when hypnotized.   The image that haunts me the most is the crucifixion.  Being nailed to a cross is not something you take like a stoic warrior.  You scream and writhe.  I kept seeing the sky above and expecting it to open, not realizing quite yet that bodies have to die to release the soul of man, and I had become a man...  We are not programmed to know all that is to come, it would disrupt our lives too much, be bad for the survival of the planet, etc... the little bit that I have seen changed everything for me.  I now hold eternity in my mind, and can see how petty this experience is over-all, yet how important it is, how every moment counts as we build the house of our memories, where we will dwell in this flesh.