NO JUSTICE... NO PEACE...

how about those brit's this week? Maybe two hundred of them are going to be thrown out of office because their personal use of state money was finally made public. People think politicians are different than normal people, but they are not -- they corrupt just like any other creature under God's son. Thing is, they get away with it. In some of the harsher places on earth, like Afganistan for the last 40 years of war, even the Taliban seemed better than the corrupt politicians that they were all collectively sick of supporting for no good of their own. Any law beats no law. Now, I think the time of politicians being able to act secretly is quickly coming to an end. Of course, it takes a catastrope or two to get people off of their asses.

I came to this earth to cause trouble for the wicked and pompous. This I do from the small life on the lake, my illusion, much like the Christ had in The Last Temptation of Christ, where he imagines an entire life as a man with Mary. I feel the pull to forget this holy burden to aright the wrongs in the religions world that I think are keeping a lot of otherwise moral people away from a great source of universal love and strength. Disbelief has no place in a mind like mine, where I have been battered by the supernatural too often to play the agnostic game any longer.

I have faced a brutal god who has feasted on the flesh of his enemies. I have faced a lustful god who travelled in a caravan in the dessert. I have faced a god who lived on a mountain and wrote a few holy books that echo down still to our time, underneath the metaphors of the latest religion to rewrite my words. I have been many, many people as I have lived among humans in obscurity, coming to life again and again, a spirit taking the form of flesh to bring a message from the Father. A message tailored for the various geographies, the needs... intelligence itself, the father seeded into humankind. I see the pattern of one being going from mask to mask, a godling awakening in another flesh, once again seeking to fullfill his mission, to prepare his people for the great journey, off the planet and home to the father.

Absurd as this sounds, and banal... it passes for one possibility of how the rapture will play out. I saw such visions of a long journey, with souls shooting through great expanses of tubes that were made of flesh. That time of feeling like I was going to explode with everything god and man were throwing at me has passed, pretty much.

Funny, how embarrassed I am to describe this sometimes. I think a lot of people would feel pretty good about learning that he has been chosen by god to represent the father on earth. He chose me not because I would want such a privelege, he chose me because I would be the last to take it. I was the one who would make sport of man for suddenly thinking that I was in AMERICA for something so banal as to overthrow a government. I like government. Just give me a fair one. People need to join together to fight off criminals, and predators who think they can buy their way into easy money at the cities, and the tax payers expense.

I think the real solution comes when open government is scrutinized--we have become so impassive that we let the government act upon us, forgetting that the other way around is even possible.

I dream about this stuff, but is it possible? Money buys a seat in politics, and only with money will you get one... yours or someone elses.







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.

SUBLIME REVIVALS

maddening religious fervors rocking the old men in the temple
riling up the crowds with a godly mission to stone a sinner
speaking out in toungues
pissed at the latest attack and giving back
running the cancer kid away from treatment to be with god

embarrassing Christ himself with thier shills on sunday morning tv

Humans wonder why I allow what I do
Those who know what I am capable of

those who tremble to cross me too far
who know there are consequences on heaven and earth for all man does
We think ourselves into lonely depressions
instead of becoming part of a larger organism

how can we trust anyone with all the barkers standing outside the various churches
promising good lord loving and forgiving and a sense of the sacred
and a whatever... beware preachers with promises --
they make such oaths in their names, not Gods.
no one can lay hands on you and cure one damn thing. People do all sorts of things to avoid the idea of death, and that is natural, but sometimes fighting something idiotically is worse than not fighting at all. Period. Part of the lack of faith in this world is the unfairness of death... This is a very short sighted view of a much larger process. In infinity, there is a creature that is you in soul and this beast stepped into flesh knowing it would step out again; the disconnect in our thinking is pretending life is finite.

I blame God for things sometimes, too. I blame men, too. I blame myself. There is enough blame to go around for everyone in the world, sadly enough. Imperfect creatures driven mad by their ability to concieve of themselves as something more than they are... all of us. I do not expect the flesh to act like much more than a sophisticated ape, for the most part. At other times, I think we can actually put our heads together and decide what is best for ourselves. Humans have a survival instinct that is difficult to circumvent; we have been known to rise to great occasions. Still, a spiritual world makes our seem






they find the Christ turns away from the revivals passions
plays down the mad furor in his chest
the swimming back into a deep, black lake in his mind

where he is alone with the God
a time before man when there was no light
no confusion between what man has told him since his birth
and what he knows now to be true

Half the world is on the con
Playing a vicious game of whatever they can get away with
We find all the heros of our politics flawed
We have not yet demanded open government and true leadership
the lobbyiest and the other funders of the campaigns know the score

we sold the dream away
the way we always do
to the highest bidder
let the market determine how much we could pollute
before bringing the whole damn world down into bloody fucking flames






Knows now the lies that are held dear
























http://theelvesattic.blogspot.com

http://thereligiouspsychokillershitlist.blogspot.com

HTTP://generalfactorx.blogspot.com

http://secretposse.com

the return

I am back after a long sabbatical spent mostly lost in the caverns in my brain. I have obviously had a lot to think about lately, what with the end of the world being immenint, and a new kitten to train, as well as in grown ego that has been causing me a lot of problems.

I just finally bought a new computer, an acer, with a webcam and all so I am going to be reading some of my favorite poetry over the course of the next few days and putting them up on utube with a connect back to the blogs.

I have a lot of writing to add. Still have a back log of the poetry from last year, actually... from the period when my waking up was basically tearing me apart. I have had a lot of time to think about what i am going to do now that I have basically torn asunder my old assumptions about religion... sorry to say that i am still not filled to the brim with the ultimate answers.... not God's will, I guess. I am just slopping up some words to let you know I am here... I will be back soon with a real entry.












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.

mayor of da great town of chicago

My impression of Daly over the years has been pretty kind. I love that he does gets all pissed off when he is all pissed off. He shows it, flusters his words, wipes sweat off the whisps of hair on his forehead. He has the air of a man who has too many important things to get done in one life time. Born to Chicago Royalty, he had little choice in life than to take the pie placed before him by his father.

The machine in Chicago. The Machine is not all bad, of course. Or all that abnormal for the way that cities hire people. Mayor Daly is forward thinking, took over the schools and did a lot of good, and of course, on the big issues, like abortion and health care and etc.... he is on the side of the poor. He is no racist. He understands that power is a two edged sword.

The city is blessed to have him. The curse is his baggage. I made a few comments on the Sun Times cite that now knock my blogs back a age... both, by accident, were about Mayor daily and the culture of corruption. I don't want to imply that I thimk the mayor does sleazy shit. He is insulated by a group of people who would never bring a crime up in front of the boss. Or so I think..

I just wanted to write this because to say that Daly could end the corruption right now, would be infantile... he can do more, though... make it a priority of has administration to be cleaner than clean.

new book covers

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.

the new opening for the waking up jesus draft

The creature had no idea what lurked in the far reaches of his mind. He never considered the energies and angels and demons that had watched him since his inception... waiting the rising of the promised prophet. He began to grow wings at five and the pope was brought in; the intelligence agencies in charge of the child kept him a secret, secluded in a small town with no real connection to the outer world. Raised him to be a leftist, though mostly they just left him alone and watched.

Theories of course flew. Each new president who learned of the child renewed his religion. A lot of powerful people began to learn of the Angel. By the time the decision was made to try to chemically wake up the angel, sides had been drawn, theories beaten into minds and tossed out for another. The end?


At thirty two they gave him a book showing that he came from a line of ancient English kings, men who were Templers and Masons and all the crap the conspiracy theorists had been writing about since he first began to examine the world. He reacted to the book like it was cocktail party conversation, nothing to someone who was raised by a fiery woman union organizer to hate the largess of royalty in the face of the starving massas.

At 44 he was writing stories in hig blog that grew increasingly violent, and gained a big audience. He had no idea that besides the people who just thought he was funny, there were others who were wondering just what the hell the angel was up to? Some thought he was a genetic experiment, brought over by the Nazi's, others something the CIA had contrived in case they ever needed a religious revival to stop a revolution on home soil...

How surprised they were when I started my peace campaign with revoltuion poetry instead of my usual comedy. Peace and Pipedreams gained an international audience. I was unsurprisingly stricken by some kind of drugging just as this started, making me manic, unable to sleep for days, and having seizures that kept landing me in psych wards. Nothing of the sort had ever happened before. I got amnesia. Came out of it with a Christ inserted inside of me.

You can make of the facts of this book what you want. I make no conclusions of how or why this book came into being. I do know that forces in the FBI, Homeland Security, and various other law enforcement officials were very, very interested when I started a campaign called Total War For Total Peace. I had no idea that I had any kind of readership who would take my words as anything more than inspiration to get out of bed in the morning... something I have often lacked in my own life.

The poems I wrote on my website, the elves attic, which the government removed and edited, then put back up and shut me out.

One day I was a dope smoking writer living day by day, and the next I was seeing the president of the united states on the Mexican boarder, asking me if I wanted him to tear down the fence. This is after I wrote that I march in the name of Ceaser Chavez. Offered the world, I turned down this request to power, saying, "I would not presume to know."

I realized then that I had instituted some kind of coup. People were either at his back holding guns, of Bush really believed I am the christ.

Next, I hear that the second largest private army is moving into Chicago. They do not tell me why, but I know. The world believes the Christ is waking up, and they think he is me.

This would be astounding to anyone, let alone a writer who hated most religions, and felt like they were a virus. After my first seizure, when they put me in the hospital, all of this changed. I suddenly saw signs of God everywhere. Was the CIA doing a number on my head to stop me from being a peacea activist at a time when they wanted a war?

They misunderstood my intentions when they thought I was a terrorist... an alien... a nazi, for God's sake... they also used a device called a Quasar to keep my back, which has been shoddily rebuilt in a surgery that causes me constant pain, to hurt much worse than normal. This is just when I was starting the radio show and peace campaign. I was surprised into denial by their campaign against me.


These words are true...




























































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.

obama....

we take a stand today on bloody ground
raise our toast to the man of the hour

pray he will bring the troops home
pray he will live his rhetoric
pray the leader of our brave new world is not a smokescreen for some cabal





















































































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.

how many Obama's were racial profiled out of politics?

Legalize it, people... get rid of the gangs, the illicit money that the terrorists use to finance their wars, stop scarring our women and men with forced sexual prostution and slavery. This is an issue which effects everyone, yet the fundamentalists, the just say no nancy -- let me check with my astrologer -- nancy reagan. Abstinence does not work, it only oppressors.

On this historic day as I listen to Obama's swearing in, I hear inspiring words that hopefully will sow the seed of the new administration. Being one of those liberals who could not watch Reagen because the sleasy bastard would suck me into his patriotism... not since Hitler has such a lying scheming man used the power of propgganda with such effectiveness. Look, he convinced a country that was trying to unionize to trust their bosses, or get fired. And look where the lack of oversite got us... cheap airflights that are destroying the planet quicker than any car.


We have so many problems on the presidents new shoulders . . . he has been smart to surround himself with a round table of voices that bring all concerns to the table.

for obama to have ANY CREDIBILITY... HE MUST PROSECUTE BUSH, CHENEY AND ROVE

OBAMA MUST PROSECUTE BUSH, CHENEY AND ROVE
I have been an Obama supporter since long before he announced his candidacy, and I feel, like most American's (and indeed, countries accross the world), that we finally have a president who will CONSIDER all americans as his constituents, and not just a rich few who finance their campaigns. He could be the greatest president we have ever had, easily.

However, if he allows the past lessons of the Bush administration to stand unchallanged, he is missing a great opportunity to get to the heart of the Neo Con problem. THey will rise again unless their sins are confronted in court.




The american people deserve no less of a president. If he is going to be the law, than let him be the LAW... not just another poltician who does what is convienant.

I like most of his picks, but that Naval officer who aided in the civilian slaughters in Indonesia was a very odd pick. Obama had written about this incident in the past, and lived in Indonesia once. By choosing a man who openly backed the slaughter of dissidents, we have taken a mighty step backwards.

Pot is the other thing. This man would not be president if he had been busted as a teen for weed (which with racial profiling what it is now in this city, he probably would have been).

Obama has to do more than talk about hope... then ignore all the people who put him in power. Bloggers and artists put this man in power. He should know that well. Turning his back on us now would be a grave mistake, lead more and more people who were onced pumped to help the world sickened once more by the ways of Washington.

All political parties are a fiction
only the force produced is real

irregular modern warfare

Come on President Elect Obama, crawl out of that Trojan horse and attack these
fuckers!!!


YOU KNOW FULL WELL WHAT THEY DID TO ME... AND I AM GLAD THAT YOU TRIED TO CONTACT ME... TOO BAD BUSH KEPT US FROM TALKING. YOU WERE BETTER OFF WITHOUT ME AS A POSTER BOY FOR YOUR CAMPAIGN./// LIKE I TOLD YOU, BEING ASSOCIATED WITH THIS GREAT CHALLENGER MEANS A FIRE THAT CAN BURN OR WARM...





HERE IS AN ARTICLE ON ADMIRAL BLAIR.... HIS PAST MAKES HIM A HORRIFYING PICK FOR THE HEAD OF INTELLIGENCE. WHAT IS OBAMA THINKING? WHAT DOES THIS HOLD FOR THE FUTURE, AND ESPECIALLY LIKE ME WHO HAVE BEEN ACTIVELY ATTACKED AND MONITORED BY THE INTELLIGENCE AGENCIES.

I PRAY TO GOD HE RETHINKS THIS POSITION, OR THE SENATE AND CONGRESS HAVE THE BALLS TO STOP THIS MAN FROM GAINING ANYMORE AUTHORITY. WHEN HE STOPPED INTERNATIONAL TRIALS IN INDONESIA (BECAUSE OUR INTELLIGENCE AGENCIES WERE HELPING IN THE SLAUGHTER, IN THEIR WAYS, NO DOUBT), HE BASICALLY SAID THAT AMERICAN IDEALS HAVE THE RIGHT TO KILL AND KILL AND KILL UNTIL EVERYONE BELIEVES AS WE DO. NO. WE KILL AND KILL AND KILL UNTIL AL VILLAGES ARE SAFE FOR ALL CHILDREN -- NO PARTICULAR IDEOLOGY HAS A PATENT ON THAT).

a's New Intelligence Chief Ran Interference for Indonesia's Butchers »
Posted By hyperbola 3 weeks, 1 day ago in Politics
5.5
Scale of 1 to 10

Read: 265

Propped: 39

Comments: 9
Click Prop It to Raise Score
Prop it

The presumptive appointment by President-elect Barack Obama of retired Admiral Dennis C. Blair as his new Director of National Intelligence is being greeted with cheers by the national media, which hail his experience, bureaucratic infighting skills and comparatively moderate views on national security issues. The New York Times, in a recent profile, seemed much impressed by the fact that the 34-year Navy veteran once water skied behind an aircraft carrier, in addition to his stints with the National Security Council, the Central Intelligence Agency and the Institute for Defense Analysis (from which he resigned in 2006 over conflict of interest charges involving the F-22 raptor).

But human rights supporters are right to be worried that Dennis Blair will hardly lead the charge for reform in the nation’s intelligence community after the Bush Administration’s embrace of torture, rendition and other crimes. For in the period leading up to and following East Timor’s August 1999 referendum on independence from Indonesia Blair, from his perch as US Commander in Chief of the Pacific (CINCPAC) from February 1999 to May 2000, ran interference for the Indonesian Armed Forces (TNI) as they and their militia proxies committed crimes against humanity on an awesome scale.....

.... Blair’s apologetics for murder and torture by the Indonesian armed forces in East Timor, and his opposition to trials, international or otherwise, for the high level perpetrators of mass violence, offers a sobering indication of the positions he is likely to take as Director of National Intelligence. President-elect Obama’s choice suggests that he will resist - as Blair almost certainly will - demands for the prosecution of high-ranking Bush Administration officials, much less lower level employees in the Pentagon and Central Intelligence Agency, for torture, rendition and other crimes carried out in the name of the so-called War on Terror.
Read Full Story at counterpunch.com »


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.

No One Speaks In My Name

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Mark Twain.... the real father of this country?

Mark Twain had some of his work put away until 100 years after his death. Some of that work is in one of my favorite books, Mark Twain on Man and Beast, where he compares man to animals and you can guess who won... this was a man who was very, very famous in his time and was of course approached by strangers all the time; sometimes he would simply refuse to talk to them. Yet when a stray cat came into his yard, he would spend hours making friends, playing... I am a little more loving towards humans than he is, of course, but my sympathy in most animal/human conflicts is purely on the side of animals.

Twain lived in a time when the most base shit imaginable was happening in this country, and the world. Having a positive view of humans was almost impossible. Especially politicians. When asked if he voted, he replied, "No. It only encourages them."

I gave up on political changes in a country dominated by neo-cons padding the pocket of the rich and forgetting the poor, in a Darwinian inspired nightmare. Rich people who think they are blessed by god (famous people as well) should take heed of this thought... I, the Christ, grew up hating Royalty and Riches. OF course, the human side of me relished the idea of gaining wealth, though my spirit never allowed me to do much to become rich or famous. I knew I would be influencial, though I could hardly have expected to make the kind of splash that I have... A lot of people were puzzled when I refused to be a king, a rich man, or a famous face. Me, too. At the time, I was being drugged by the government, and highly irrational, but inside of me was the Holy Host, and He knows how to play the flesh puppet; told me, wealth and fame are the new golden cows, and you must be an example, no matter how bloody the cross.

Which brings me back to politics. We have mostly been apathetic. No doubt. There are reasons for this. One is that the intelligence community has waged a subtle war to keep certain people out of the system. They fear, more than anything you can imagine, the unions and the blacks getting together to create a European model of Democracy. The stranglehold of a two party system controlled by how well the polticians could smooze the rich for contributions cannot be underextimated. Look at bush and the stats of who he enriched -- the top 5%... the people who selfishly plunged this country and the world into the next great depression.

Which brings me to my obvious point... when our campaign brought the youth into the system, the country changed, at least enough to put a black man into the presidency... it is much more interesting that he is a liberal to me. Who cares what color he is? Well, that is important, too... as someone who has studied symbioism and consciousness creation, I understand how inspiring he is symbolically.

We have all been like Twain in the end of his life, when he was cynical and sure that the humans around us were too fucked up to save this planet. As far as some humans go, this is true. They are selfish users of the planet and other people. I do not think this is confined to any political party. Like I say, I do not support politicians, I support issues.

We forget that politicians are portals for change, and they will change shit for whoever is watching.

THe new openness that is being espoused in the political arena should be taken and run with by anyone smart enough to understand this shit. The time when we could think that burying our heads in the sand is the best way to deal with the scum elected by the money mongers is over. We can all see that this is letting them be manipulated and used by the interested of the few over the many.

I should be out protesting, people say. I was told this many, many times... the problem with this is that I am almost too powerful. If there are two opinions on a matter, there is some common ground between the two that best states reality. IF I take a side, that means I have to take into account everyone's opinion. This is impossible for me. My views are not those of the majority. I am much more socialist than the movements in this country, and the socialists have been sidelined. If I was in a country with a lot of different 'viable' political parties, I would be in the streets with you... and I may change my opinions; this depends whether the greens and the socialists ever rise to power in this country.

I am a Democrat only by default. Know this well -- God is sickened by the politicians, but they are merely a reflection of the people. Obama brings great hope to the world, though already I am seeing signs that he is too worried about being everyone's friend. Oh, well...













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.

Another One Of Those F*king drunken calls from president w.

I am adding this comedy story to this site for the hell of it. Just because some people come here, and others go to the elves attic and the psycho killer... site, which while recently more or less have been consumed with the same poetry and shit as in here -- the others are meant to be funnier, less serious. More like I was on the radio show, though not quite as absurd. I cannot bring myself to write out even the better routines as stories in here, because I did not like all of the characters that much. I did like Moon Bongs gerbongs, and his cat cleaning service. I will eventually do little commercial paradies using his stoner voice...

anyways, this prose more rightly belongs to Johnny Pain than Jesus... In the Johnny Pain story, Bush has been bothering him for the last few years, basically bogging his weed... anyways.... they are compiled in the book of short stories, and this is probably going to be the last one... since Bush is leaving the white house.. this gives a good ending to the tale.








Bush called me in the middle of the night. Around three am. He was out of weed and had flown air force one in to mooch some weed off of me. This is why everyone around here calls him Bogging Bush (secretly we mean that he stole those elections, but there is no bringing this up to him with his penchant for having his 'posse' beat people to, like he loves to say, 'pissin and twitchin'.

Anyways, he was all liquored up. They broke the door down, came in and did a fucking sweep with m16's and shit. He knows I have no weapons and has been bumming weed off of me forever (as a liberal green, I am an odd choice, but he just happened to be in Chicago one time and hopped in my cab, with three guys with guns, and ordered me to score him some weed. He tried to pretend he was not the president, but we were followed by four suv's and I know what he looks like. Whatever. He told me his name was Jorge (the Spanish pronunciation of George), and thought it was such a good joke to pronounce the sound 'whore hey' that he did so, over and over, always chuckling afterwards... the secret service agents chuckled at first, then stopped as he went on... until he got all pissed and ordered them to laugh when he told the joke. He was serious, too. Said something about the 'little nukie' he was keeping in his briefcase and how God told him to come to Heaven anytime he wanted, and he was just waiting for an excuse.

I sort of overheard this and all this other stuff... turns out, the real reason we went into Iraq is because Saddam once stole one of Bush's mistresses, who happened to have been a llama specially trained in the sexual art's by some obscure monastery in India that has been around for thousands and thousands of years, though no one talks about it because all these rich guys are into it and they don't want anyone to know... but if you know the right code to get into their 'llama lover' sites, which Bush got drunk and gave me, you are either going to puke or find yourself down at zoo everyday, watching and lusting, watching and lusting... until you are caught for the second time masturbating... I'm just saying, this could happen. Well, that is enough about llama love.

All I had was some shag weed around so Bush had his secret service guys beat the shit out of my kitten, Dash. I thought this was a little harsh, of course, and told him as much. He was just drunk enough to get all blubbery about it, and next thing I knew he was flying in some vet/ for the cat.. then he got to thinking about all the cats dying down at the pound, and next thing I fucking know he has the place broken into by these guys in black helicopters... he lets all the cats free, then gets it in his head that the dogs should be free too... of course he let loose all these mean ass pitbulls and shit that immediately started killing all the cats. Then one of the dogs went for one of the guys in black and they all started shooting the dogs... then, for some reason, they started shooting the cats, too. I was screaming at them to stop and shit. Typical Bogging Bush shit.

Then he got the munchies, right in the middle of this bedlam, and pats his stomach and says, "Okay, got to get some vittles ... that weed made me need... tacos, and burgers, man. Shit, let's take over a McDonald's and cook weird shit ... like Big Mac's with Quarter ponders on em. Fuck, yeah."

I had been through this before, watching them scare the hell out of some high school kids, usually Bush had at least one beaten to, quote, "Make sure you kids know that you better fucking not even think about spitting on my presidential food." Bush had a thing about finding spit in his food, because he was such an asshole and he had never cooked his own food in his entire life and people were always, indeed, spitting on it.

He forced me to come. Then he starts showing me this notebook where he is working on 'a plan to stay presidenting.' I told him that I thought eight years was the limit?
"Yea," he told me,"It is for them pussies. I ain't moving. I like the place. Someone else can do the paperwork, hell... but I have grown fond of that house, and what the hell... I got me a private army all set up to sweep into Washington and pull a coup and shit. I make myself King, see, then they can have their little president, but I will be over him. And King is for life, man... I read that in a Time magazine. For life. I deserve it, man. I got the experience, I'm still young enough to chase interns... heee, heeee, heee...Mostly though, the dog likes the place. And I got my coloring room all set up how I like it, man... how the hell can they even ask me to move? They asking you to move because they got a new president? No. It ain't fucking fair That's why I'll get Blackwater to even things out. We're just taking out the congress and the senate, replacing them with the women from the View. That way, things will be fair and all. I'll be King, and them women can tell me what to do. That way, there's a mistake, I blame it on them. I got this all figured out, man. I can't believe that fucker Clinton didn't try this... oh, yea, he thought he could turn the president thing into a rock star thing, and catch up on all the tail he missed when he in the White House trying to keep it out of... well, he just put it in their mouths. I guess the cigar got a little bit... hee, hee, hee. I love that Monica Lewinsky. I did her and her mom and their maid."
"At gunpoint?"
"No woman has a headache at gunpoint, boy. I told you that before. Nah, I didn't do that. The wife... she'd cut one of my balls off, for sure. I can't keep secrets, not the way I drink. That's why she almost left me back when I was fooling around. I'd be bragging on snagging some poontang and then realize, shit, this is my wife... I shouldn't be doing this. But you know me, that never stopped me from doing anything. Yea, fooling around... hell, at my age, I prefer coloring. Or coke and Viagra and llamas. You ain't gonna see no llama getting interviewed on hard copy."
"No. Has anyone ever tried to write about the whole llama thing?"
"Oh, the Masons have an underground, nuke proof vault filled with millions of books on llama love. Anybody who is anyone gets the llama daily. You're a peasant, so you are let in on shit like that. Like time travel and aliens and crap. You just don't get to know, because we happen to like it that way. Always got something on you. You poor people might be smart, or good at... fixing ... oh, I don't know... fixin ... stuff, yea, stuff... but you would be killed, flat out disappear, along with your 100 closest relatives and friends, at least, if you were to even whisper about this conversation in your sleep. Everything is bugged, and especially you, because if you got kind bud, I am flying in for a few bongs ... can't smoke the stuff at the White House. Mom caught me. Shit, I told her it was tobacco, but she knew better. Spanked me for the first time in months, man, and no matter how old you are, that shit hurts. She puts on her leathers and gets out her whips man. I hate it.... shit, the welts."

"Fuck you smoked all my weed, Bogger."
I should not have said this. He made some hand motion to the secret service guys and they just tossed my ass out of the limo. I forget that he considers peasants without weed worthless weight.

Man, I sure hope they find some way to get him out of the white house without killing his dog. Maybe he wasn't serious?


Just as I was finishing this, he called me and said to forget everything he said last night, that being at the White House having people 'up in his business' all the time was too much, and he was leaving. "Man, I decided, last night, to just take over Mexico. I can smoke all the fucking weed I want down there, man. Buy the local law first, then just take over the country. They love me down there. Love me everywhere, they tell me. Cheney was just saying I am the most loved president in the world. Man, it's good to be the most blessed man on the planet. And that's from Pat Robertson, so you know it's true. You score anymore weed yet?"
"No."

"Don't be calling me like this without weed, man."













u 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.

Opinions In the Press

Illinois and the renegade governor
playing elvis with his honchos of boy-men riding along
these people who think they know
the way the world really works...
the megalomaniacs amongst us

can't join them in their pits of ego belief
let alone allow oneself to become one of those centers that can't hold

could 6% of the population really be psychopaths?
people with no emotional connection to anyone else
predators taking prey

I cheer the feds in this city
to some degree at least
they are the ones who are at least trying
to bust the corruption itself

the rot at the soul of so many fucking governments
are simply toad like psychopaths who rise up in heirarchies
who take their bribes and props and stolen goods
they end badly
most
the one thing they really wanted and could never buy -- respect
goes running off from their cold corpses

the ones who feared them kick and beat their dead bodies
in books and myths and truths... mostly truths
that shake the infamous off the list of the famous

we remember the saints more than the sinners
sinners have it easy

saints have to suffer for every bit of collaterol damage their lives are causing
everywhere
on everyone
the planet, our neighbors, pets...

this is why Christ is suffering

the suffering of the god who understood, finally, how it was to be human
in the one hot black moment of hell when His Father left him hanging
on a cross
the only relief a spear in the side
the greatest blessing I have ever known


I am embarrassed for myself and everyone else
a pinpricky feeling like I have no idea what the future holds
at all

even the ugliest cell becomes home to some

I look at the suffering in Gaza and Israel and the fires they ignite around the globe

Wonder who fans what flames for what purposes?

Roland Burris stepped into the flames of A-Rod going down
he plans on walking right through without a scorch on his suite


the cursing governor doll
perfect for the hollywood press

I noticed the corruption in Chicago fairly quickly
I ignored them
never planned on needing the help of criminals or cops
just an artist
a writer of words that amused him more than anyone else
who for decades wrote away in the solitude of being unintersting
unschooled
untrained
ignorant of just how serious every damn day was going to be

how dirty and low they go in the war for human perceptions
when the great we has to defend sanity itself

when the greenhouse is ignored for twenty years
damn the costs they said
damned by the costs we respond


the judgments are here
court is open
the prosecutors have been waiting
to drive home their point
for years
since they first discovered the certain sacredness lurking in the Law
that some find and savor and others sell right off

we all need to remember suffering
and forget suffering

or suffering will subsume us

for awhile I stare into the political abyss wondering just why
I tarry at the blood splattered accident
like a teenage girl cutting herself
all i need are words
keeps the wounds internal
where my map of scars can read be me alone

I want to freeze time
move around a few of the players
on the board
take some of this power and place it there
that power there
like a general in a room of war maps
redistributing
resources

better I write pretty rooms filled with interesting wallpaper
and funny
crazed people
who are us and not us and never meant to be more
than a way to pass a moment away from reality
the stories I used to hate
think worthless, empty
water that had never been blessed
with that sacred touch I found in some writer's words


the Conan The Barbarian books I used to read just to pass an afternoon
to while away my time as I waited for... what?

back to governor elvis -- read a book on The King just a few weeks ago
from his shiny break out on the stage to his bloated, shitting himself death
you can have nothing but pity for people
who never even realized there are slippery slopes
the ones who are doomed to be used by craftier types;
the crew around him did their best to keep the kid alive
still marveled at the flashes of the crazy mountain boy out for pure fun
who could shake off the entire world and go fucking nuts if he wanted
the book is interviews with the people elvis kept around him
the memphis posse
they went through hell to share the limos and chicks and drugs

this entire state has been run by an Elvis
surrounded by good old boys who fed his president wanting ego
the kid who thought he was going to buy his way into the white house


I always hope I am wrong
that everyone is innocent
and the world can just be... fair

everyone has to pay up sooner or later I suppose
cancer catches the smokers twenty years after the last gorgeous puff
etc...

my eyes are too often on the skies
mezmerized by the question marks behind every star

expecting no answer ever
to be more than speculation
















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.

bittersweet year

triumph and tears
a shredding of one self for another
with all the attendant scar tissue left behind
the angry map on our souls

I think long and hard on the burden of the one who brings the end
the apocalyptic one who burns with unwanted fires

Jesus arrives in flames and horror
the hidden message behind the coloring books of lambs laying down with lions

I am a reluctant messiah...


they found me hidden in a man
the angels of awakening
brought out my voice from the opaque black parts of my unconscious
where a beast of savage grace growled and raged and nursed his wounds

a blue eyed hot blooded killer
thankful for the peace of his neighborhood, his friends, his words

I am willing to exist beyond human judgment
on a throne of my own perceptions
in a land of my own making
lecturing from an obscure podium
at a half interested crowd


The Christ cannot imagine how life can go on as before

Forgets and remembers that most people do not believe he exists
he barely feels like he exists some days
in others he gives into running away from the truth
into any fantasy that can bring a glimmer to his eye for a moment

He knows, though...

The opinions of others no longer matter.
His mission is clear.
Lead as many people as he can out of the mundane,
into the realm of the peaceful and sane and inane.


The Father's plans consume him
He cannot understand the motives of God?
The atheist he was awhile was idiotic enough to think
that if there was a plan, he would have figured it out and thus... it was not there

he hears the laughter of God... the one word He intones over and over
from the center of all.... LOVE.

What if I am here to lead a herd of souls to heaven
could I turn from such a thought?
Would it make any difference if I were to be jesus or not?

I prayed hard on blasphemy for months
the last thing I want to do is proclaim myself a god
this is the stuff of madness

what is just is

bullets and rose petals

fall from my hand
the bullets hit first
clatter harsh and ugly

the rose petals drift from side to side
elegantly, silently down

every laugh is a lie
when tears are required

I am far from the peace of faith
puzzled by where I am on this Calvary Walk


I want to be nameless
words without a persona
blank

a clean start

I used to start over all the time







































































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.

the karma of tom cruise

don't believe in Karma very much. I have a weird view of something called social karma, which says that you can spread a certain type of behavior through other beings by acting a certain way; the basic, say hello to people and act pleasant and others will do the same.

In other words, a lot of the time, your social karma is what gets your ass kicked or kissed. This is too mystical to be taken too far. Just a sociological statement I felt that I had to make because the classic idea of Karma sickens me, blames people for shit that is not their fault.

Tom Cruise, who I surely do hope people will quit threatening, has been the target of my ire ever since I began to awaken to the problem of cults. But.... it is his right to join a cult, and it is his right to go around and talk about it. It is our right to avoid his movies, and to speak truth to their lies. Anonymous has done a wonderful job of showing how to protest a social movement that the government cannot/or will not.

Now, Cruise is building a five million dollar bunker under one of his homes. What a waste of money. People really need to make clear that when they criticize someone, they are criticizing behavior, not condemning everything a person is. People have intrinset worth. Tom Cruise is not a child molestor or a rapist or a murderer. These are the only people who the general debate grows around having killed. Everyone else deserves to live how they want. Even Tom Cruise.

I do hope that he will realize that all of the attention his cult is getting, actually means something. He is not a smart man, obviously... and more than that, he is a victim of a cult, as well. L Ron Hubbard's corpse should be dug up and pissed on, but whoever is left of his dying delusion will just become more religious curios. Read about the early 1800's america's and all the different religious beliefs people were trying on and you will see that nothing has changed.

A true religion may arise from the ashes of the conservative christian movements and the crazy cults... That religion will not be started by a guy who took a lot of speed and thought he was satan.

Tom, sorry they are on your ass... but you asked for this shit storm when you declared yourself a budding little god. You are the Golden Cow of fame and wealth, using your influence to fleece people of money with a mish mash of mind control techniques. Inside your cocoon, you do not even realize that their are actual butterflies out here...













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.

the new editions are out

LAst night, I finally got the first three new editions out. They are not going to be perfect until I once more see the hardcopy, make whatever changes I missed.... Still, the books are there and readable.

I would recommend ordering them quick. One War, Waking Up Jesus, and The Religious Psycho Killer's Shit List. You can get them cheap at this point. I got all three for forty bucks. I will raise the price once I have the books and have made any final changes that I want.

I have not finished the collected works yet, but that is kind of a joke to me in a way. I want a book that has a novella, poetry, and comedy, so people can see all the different sides of my work. I suspect I am close on that front, but... I still have a lot of comedy that has never been published. A second volumn of the psycho killer's shit list and whatever will come...










































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.

firestarters in Gaza

the news makes me feel like I am participating in life
monitoring the world for some reason I cannot begin to fathom

I watch the rise and fall of this and that regime
idea, haircut, verbs du jour...

A story of three angels has been banging out in my head
I lay trying to sleep on a night with none trying to take the story further
to dream out how the story will end

so far I have three angels who have come to earth to awaken the Christ
they find him as they expect to, mourning his fate and still
in the thankful oblivion of his true mission

they have plaid this scene out on other planets and times
they do not envy the Christ
He alone goes out on point
becomes a human to try to save them
from his father's judgement

At first the Christ refuses to believe the angels
Laughs at the idea

Then slowly he comes to know that he is the end
the harbinger of the big fire

The angels in the story are weary warriors
they have been warring the forces of satan
retaking the souls snatched into hell by the master deciever

They have won and now they have come for the son of God
they both fear and love him

He is a creature who thinks he is a man
oblivious of the powers he could call upon
how easily he could toss the very planet into the sun


The Christ will have endless conversation with the Angels
he mistakes His fears of His Father with Hate
became an atheistic writer of violent comedy

They finally launch their mission
take over the media and plunge the world word into chaos
The Christ is mistaken again for a man who would be King
Is tempted by the world he could own again by the forces of Darkness

The tale slowly percolates in my mind
a secret place that I go when the conversation doesn't interest me
the obsession of hours laying in bed wishing sleep would come

I feel the guilt of the bomb
the guilt of fire
the guilt of bullets

the guilt of life and death

i watch cnn while I write my poem/story idea

seeing gaza getting hit by hundreds of missiles
the jews responding to the fanatics and their bombs
by massing troops on the boarder

by the end of the night the war could enflame the smoldering middle east

the us and Israel are bound together in the middle eastern mind
they despise the americans for staying out of the conflict
for not coming to their aide

When does the rain come that puts out all these flames?
the flood of holy water
that washes us clean of this blood


i hide myself in a poem on the middle east
in a story of angels
the far back dark reaches of my unconscious
where the unknown stand and speak from opaque black

I make up the angels to have some comic relief for this Christ character
comic relief... there is no room .... no room...

One war plays out on my tv, in the middle east, south america, africa... anywhere people are picking up guns and joining a side to wage war
is the same war
the same break down of reason
the same Darwinian struggle to be free
















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.

The Christmas Sermon

Seek peace with men of all religions. Speak to your enemies in the hope they will see into your soul, and learn of your kindness.

The Iranian premier's speech on BBC should be seen as an attempt to entice Obama to take himself seriously, and confront the number one most contentious problem in the middle east. No more bombs... can't ignite them oil fields, or we will all burn this time.

We will not be able to lead the world if we simply choose our friends and the rest be damned. The time has come for the metaphors of war to be retired. Talking in terms of winners and losers, evil and good, etc... are all lies. We are creatures encasing souls. We do not know much of our story. So little is known that no one can be right forwever. Sooner or later, science will come up with something better.

Ending the easy conversion of Islamists to terrorists organizations, will require respect and love. This is a fuck or fight world. Pretend otherwise. I started this campaign by telling you to seek love, to fuck out your war jizz. I hope this held off some of the violence for awhile.

I have been ordered to get in the shower to prepare to go out for christmas dinner. Yum













































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.

SANTA SLAUGHTER IN LA

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

A PARABLE FOR THE DEPLORED

There has been a battle waging since the angels split off, some becoming demonic, others trying to stop them. We have fought on earth in the forms of men forever. We fought as Neanderthals... as soon as the image of God began to appear in the faces of the creatures of Eden. We have kept all of this secret to the humans, fearing the mass hysteria that would have enveloped the world. The massacres we could see down that future path kept us from allowing events to steer us into such a dark place.

Now we are coming above ground. Demons and Angels are actively appearing int he unconscious of the humans; possessed since birth by deities they will never undrestand, these humans now wage the ultimate war between good and evil.


We have gathered in Chicago to meet the one. The Christ. The humans have known about since his birth, a secret that t most learned about when the Awakening Movement needed their aide. I have been a sleeper agent in my own mind, learning of the humans and their times by the ultimate tool - becoming one of them. Waking up from deep cover is not easy. There is no instant switch. You exist as two people at once, and in my case two warring people.

The battles would be fought in the old ways. As when the Gods themselves clashed over planets... or Gods they seemed to themselves, warring with powers that are unheard of here on earth.

You begin to remember the other lives you have lived as you fought the dark ones. The countries where you found them and their armies and tried to destroy their followers, before they could sweep the earth and earn their dark right, to avoid the flight to the father, to rule here on earth for eternity. They fear the fathers dark vengenge for the war they inflicted on the Son. They seek to keep humans on their sides purely to keep their delusion going.



I am weary from the battles I have returned from. The wounds of angels are all internal, mixed up with killing beings who were once your lovers, your fellow angels singing in the court of The Almighty. I know Jesus is close. Can feel his warm presence. I do not know if he is awake yet. He is usually the last, though sometimes the first. I find him in a dive bar, scribbling on napkins a poem that would be later lost from his pocket and dissolved into the snow lightning the Chicago streets.



I sit on a cracked, acrylic seat beside him. "Do you know me?"
His clear blue eyes look at me with rage, then he seems to go to another part of his brain to calm down, and answers in his gorgeous voice, "I have known you, my brother, since before you knew there was such a thing as I."

He never has grown used to being the Father's Judge, the siren for the four hoursemen with the steeds of fire. He came up later this time, 44, and his beard is greying. The waif of skin and bones he had been in the last life was gone. He looks skinny, yet well fed. He has grown the long hair of the mystic and magic. I can tell he has had the dreams. One showing God's Face to prove that he was in touch with a deity, and the next of the endless lightening and fire flowing from his trembling silhouette.

"Your father sends his greetings."
"Yes, he would."
"Have you seen the demons?"
"They are everywhere. They cannot attack me and I leave them alone. I have become like an animal in a zoo to them. The lion they never want to meet in the jungle, chained and neutered."

I order a beer and take a cigarette out of his pack. Angels are like soldiers on leave, forever trying to just stay in the moment and if drink and drugs are needed, the humans have an endless supply.

"They think I will not fight them. I want them to think I am defeated."
"They can hear you and yet...."
"Now that you are here, they understand that I am about to burn their Eden down."
"You loved here?"
"How could I not... these were my children once."
"You know I speak with the new Satan?"
"He is nothing like his father."
"His fate was worse than mine. Still, he believes in these beings, sees their free-will in the perversions, the lust for life itself."
"The heavens makes this place seem like a hell."
"The babies don't know."
"Now you sound like Satan. This is a planet meant to grow souls. To send seeds out into the cosmos. We go to the father's face, he sends us to the heavens where we will be happiest, or off to some other war."

"What have you been doing here?"
"Writing."
"Anything good?"
"No. I wanted to change time itself, make the end a dream no one needs to have..."
"He sent you here to burn all this shit down."
"Collectively they are a virus. One on one though...."
"Save a few for breeding..."
"And forget the rest."

I understood again why only the son himself could bring on the end of a world. Angels would have died from the pain I could see in everything he did, from the grim resignation that he sipped his coffee to the cigarettes he left to burn away in the ashtrays.

"When?"
"The goal will be to save every soul on the planet. The projections are much smaller, of course. First we will need to use the armies to eradicate those who are not going with us. There will be even more blood... I have already shed more than I feel like I can take, though I know, being I am, I can take anything."

"Where are you staying?"
"I sleep on the subway."
"We'll need a better field office... do you know where the other three are?"
"They will find us within hours of opening the office. Call the company the Reluctant Apocolyptics. I want the left over demons to know where we are as well. I forgave them."
"What?"
"Oh, I perished a few... mostly I offered them their old jobs back. They knew from the beginning of this battle that they were going to lose. They were stuck with Satan after the revolt. He was the one who had to hear their cries of pain over their fates. I would have even forgiven him for trying to teach the humans that they are for a reason, that God relishes their lusts. Of course, like an angel, he took it too far. The distance from the father drove him mad. The impending end, where we find ourselves now.... must have preyed on them."

We spoke of the other wars raging across the cosmos, where bits and pieces of the Son of God was still battling the left over pockets of the demonic invasion.

"Any closer to figuring out why he does this to them?"

Jesus sighed, "Not that question again... he is not going to tell me his plans, because... who knows?"


New reports that night were filled with firefights between shadowy figures who witnesses claimed were flying around on white wings. Scientific experts were brought in to speak about mass hysteria. In a secret agency within the CIA another entry is made into a file labeled project omega. ^To his superiors, James Kenny wrote that an aplha red pronto emergency scenario was breaking out in downtown Chicago.

News teams filled the streets surrounding the battles. Burning swords and blasts of lightening and fire flew back and forth between the creatures, destroying store fronts and leaving ominous fires up and down State street. A white being, too bright to be photographed or looked upon directly, appeared above the carnage and the entire scene disappeared. A melodic voice of authority filled the streets, "I am."

Speculation filled the news shows for the next week, though nothing else happened...