Friday, September 30, 2011

God Speaks to Me V: Daily News Blog

These are the messages as relayed to me by the various personalities of God.

Getting What They Deserve
By: God the Diabolical

I am sure many of you have seen or heard the newscasts about Anwar al-Awlaki and Samir Khan being killed by an airstrike launched by counter terrorism forces in Yemen. Supposedly it was a joint CIA-U.S. Military operation. Never mind the question of what U.S. forces were doing in that area of the world, but it turns out that al-Awlaki was supposedly an American citizen. Yes. An American citizen. 

Now, there are apparently many individuals who are very much up in arms about this particular American citizen being targeted and killed. Many people point out the fact that this person had rights to trial and all that horse-shit as so appointed by the United States Constitution. 

Really? This guy who you say was a U.S. citizen was encouraging others to KILL U.S. citizens...or don't you listen to what this ding-dong was up to in his spare time? Some people insist that this man should have been put on trial, that evidence of his misdeeds should have been gathered and presented to the court system. 

What were these people going to use as proof of this idiot's extremism? Were they going to wait until they had video footage of him making bombs and planting them? Did they want to wait until they had another list of innocent people killed by psychotic religious extremists who truly think they are part of something great and good and part of God?

Whether or not the nut-hatch al-Awlaki was born in New Mexico, making him a U.S. citizen is not an issue here, oh people of earth. This guy did not behave as a citizen. Don't you get it? He gave two shits and a donkey squirt for any of the standards that individuals who uphold the U.S. Constitution stand for. His actions and encouragements to others to kill Americans and destroy Americans were in themselves very loud statements that he wanted nothing to do with the United States of America, its people, its Constitution, its laws, or its citizenship.

Mr. al-Awlaki planted particular seeds in his garden, and guess what? The little religiously deluded prick reaped EXACTLY WHAT HE SOWED! And you know what? The same thing will happen to all his little pals who try the same damn thing. You cannot claim association and citizenship and benefits of the laws with a country that you have openly declared war on, you assholes. Common goddamn sense...get some.

People like al-Awlaki are exactly why religion has absolutely zero place in politics. Bunch of crap, it is. What the hell is wrong with you humans? Stop killing each other over make-believe deities and stories of martyrdom and what you might win if you go about killing people who believe differently than you.

And now I move onto comments of other bits of news...

China, nice rocket you got there, eh? Care to tell everyone in the world why you decided to play 'America the Beautiful' on your national television when showing your citizens what the rocket would be doing in space? Was the rocket made with American parts and you were simply offering your thanks through song? Well, at least now no one can call you ungrateful.

Ahhh, Bank of America. Going to load up another fee on your already fee loaded patrons? Tell you what, enjoy it while you can, because sooner or later your patrons will get a clue, pull out all their monies and investments, and go to other banks. Maybe even the Bank of Japan...hah!

Did you hear about the grandfather who survived, like, six days in a 200 foot ravine after being in a car wreck, living off of leaves, bugs, and creek water? Amazing! That guy is totally hardcore! My divine hat is off to you! I hope your recovery is swift and complete.

Dude, PETA, shut the fu*k up and leave the meat eaters of the world alone. You are really up in arms about this so-called 'sexy chicken' advertisement? Just for that I am going to eat a fired chicken sandwich AND a hamburger for lunch.

So, a bear in British Columbia walks into a pizza restaurant and...eats a pizza. Where is PETA on this one? Your asses know that pizza can't possibly be good for a bear, right?

Syria...let's get serious, okay? You want to know why the U.S. has such a problem with your dumb ass? Because you keep promoting dumb shit and even dumber people, that is why. Stop doing the stupid crap that you do and there won't be such a problem. By the way, pissing off Hilary Clinton is seriously the WRONG thing to do. Take it from the mouth of the divine, dude, she will destroy your ass and you will only have yourself to blame for it.

Ah, Mr. Obungle! Surely you did not think I would close this divine comment section without making a comment on you, did you? So, suffering a little thinness in the 'ole pocket money, eh? Do you really think that holding a dinner where each plate is ten thousand dollars or more is going to help you? Considering the lowliness of your approval rating, do you think many people want to pay thousands of dollars to attend a dinner just to hear you jibber-jabber on more useless crap that you will either never do, or that will never make any amount of measurable difference? Like one of my divine compatriots has previously stated...all of us divine beings are crossing our fingers that you do not get re-elected. Humm, I wish to hell Hilary was running for office.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

God Speaks to Me IV: Daily News Blog

This is the information as relayed to me by the various personalities of God.

Survival Kit for the Religiously Afflicted
By: God the Manic

Dude, I totally saw this on the Internet and I just HAD to make sure you humans saw this! It is some hilarious stuff! Not only that, but it happens to hold within it a hell of a lot of truth.

 Go to this website for some delicious common sense:

Sunday, September 25, 2011

God Speaks to Me III: Daily News Blog

These are the messages of God as so related to me by the various personalities of the divine.

Same Crapola, Different Day 
By: God the Seriously Deluded

I am only going to say this of the warring Muslim nations...if you all injected a little alcohol into your daily lives and diets you would probably have a whole hell of a lot more fun, get invited more places (that means YOU Ahmadinejad) , and be looked at more as the neighborhood party rats than the neighborhood terrorist thugs.

Hey, Connie Schultz, you don't really think that by QUITTING you will make the so-called 'target' on your back any smaller, do you? You say you want to weigh in on issues that mean a lot to you. Well, quitting is NOT a good start. Get some goddamn balls, honey. You say you are not defined by your husband, the senator. You are correct! You are defined by the fact you are a LOSER because you were worried what people thought of you, and a QUITTER since you ran away from your job. Nice. Do all Americans a favor and NEVER run for office.

The loser 'hikers' that were released by Iran are home. Damn. How could people with such poor instincts get as far as they have in life? And what kind of dip-turds let them back home? Idiots who go hiking in freakin' IRAN of all places ought to be put to sleep. Stop giving these assholes news coverage. Next thing you know there will be a group of swap meet gypsies arrested in Somalia while on a whitewater rafting trip.

If I see one more JG Wentworth commercial with the stupid opera singing I am going to scream. Crappy advertising like that only makes crappy television programming worse.

You remember the story of the boy who cried wolf? That is what is going to happen with the government shut-down. They keep saying it is going to happen, but it never does. Eventually it will...and no one will give a shit. Not that they give a shit now.

So, gold prices are plunging? Hah! I wonder what they are going to do with all the commercials that advise people to invest in gold since it never goes down in price. Say, Pat Boone, didn't you endorse a commercial like that?

So, Mr. Obungle addresses the Black Caucus and tries to sound deep and introspective by telling people to stop complaining and do something...or some shit like that. Like he is some great doer himself. Sure, if you count screwing up everything he touches as 'doing' anything. Whatever, Mr. Obungle. Wayyyy too little, wayyyy too late. I speak for all of those of a divine heritage when I say we hope to hell you will NOT be elected again.

What is this new energy-type scandal with a company that received MILLIONS upon millions in loans and then filed for bankruptcy? No one knew what was happening or saw this coming? What kind of horseshit is that? And did you see all of the company representatives plead the Fifth? People like that can't tell the truth to save themselves or anyone else. Didn't Mr. Obungle's people push the loan for this company? Yep. THAT says a whole lot right there.

Mr. Obungle says he is a warrior for the middle class. Nope. He isn't. He is a warrior for a group of ass-clowns, maybe, but for the middle class? No. The middle class works hard. The ONLY thing Mr. Obungle works hard at is making a big mess even bigger.


Thursday, September 22, 2011

God Speaks to Me II: Daily News Blog

These are the messages of God as so related to me through the various personalities of the divine.

Morons Unite!
By: God the Mean Spirited

Well, well, well. What can I say about the supposed human creation of God? How about this simple fact: There are a lot of fu*king stupid people out there in your neck of the galaxy. Let us begin...

So, this convicted criminal Troy Davis spoke with me just this morning, and what did he say? He said he cannot understand why his attorneys waited until 1994, three years after his original conviction, to try to say that witnesses had recanted their statements. The first appeals were filled with assertions that Troy did not receive a fair and equal trial (problems with the trial site and the jury selection) and that defense attorneys did not provide effective counsel. Why did counsel wait so long to assert that  witnesses were tainted? Maybe they didn't know? Possible. If so, why did counsel for Troy try to challenge the conviction in 2000, citing that the use of the ole electric chair was cruel and unusual punishment? Did they really believe in his innocence, or were they simply trying whatever they thought might work to either overturn his conviction or commute his death sentence to life? Do they understand that these actions did not help to cement the idea that there may have indeed been credible doubt? Do they know what CREDIBLE doubt is? Not all doubt is credible, do they understand this?

And how can I not mention something about the idiot 'hikers' who were finally released from Iran? Not much, except that they are idiots. Who the hell goes hiking in IRAN? Hell, why not go on a picnic or camping excursion in Afghanistan? Sure. I'll make the sandwiches and you make the fruit punch. If people are dumb enough to go hiking in Iran and get caught, shit, let their dumb asses stay there. Why would you want people that stupid in your country anyways? Don't let them back into your country where they will get married, procreate, and make MORE stupid people.

Ohhhhh, Mr. Obungle. Well, why don't you do everyone on your planet a favor and STOP trying to pretend you know what the hell you are doing in politics, humm? Your voon-der-bar election slogan of "Yes We Can!" apparently only refers to getting into more debt, fighting more useless wars, getting into more debt, demolishing the economy, getting into more debt, bungling healthcare reform, getting into more debt, growing the unemployment percentage as if it were a garden perennial, and...that's right...getting into more debt. By the way, Mr. Obungle, you seriously need to do something about the people you have making up your little propaganda stories that are supposed to make you look good, because they aren't very good, aren't believable, and only make you look worse. Fire them. Get better writers. Hell, hire Stephen King! Just about everything he writes is a bestseller! 

Yay! Government shut down! It reminds me of the winter months when there are loads of snow in some areas of your planet and all the kids are hoping for school to be cancelled...except it never is. Stop getting the hopes of the nation up by saying there is going to be this big damn government shut down...and then pulling the plug on pulling the plug. It is emotional trauma. Pull the goddamn cord and get it over with. Use it as a tool with which to get rid of all the crap politicians. Just don't replace the idiots with more idiots as this will not help your country.

You humans in the United States want to help your debt situation? Hey, you politicians who never pray but should, forgive some of the debt to the middle and lower classes and extend them business credits, give them their homes (and I do mean GIVE) and forgive their education debts with the chance to pursue even greater education goals. Give colleges and universities credits, give home building companies credits. Forgive debts to countries that will forgive your debt in return. Get as close as possible to starting from financial scratch, set the numbers at zero and extend credit. Get people back to learning, earning, building, and buying.

And stop giving a flying fu*k what that freak Ahmadinejad has to say. Don't you get it? Dude is beyond nuts, and he is going to continue to say crazy shit because he KNOWS it bugs the shit out of you. So STOP listening to the little freak and inviting him places. No one fu*king wants to hear his useless rhetoric anyways. Let his own people remove his dumb ass from political power. Stop involving yourselves with trying to solve problems that are not your goddamn problem, geeze.

Texas. Look, did God bless you? I suppose so. I admire your fervent desire to get the gravy train of the justice system moving by clearing out Death Row. HOWEVER, you have got to make sure the guys you put to death are really guilty, alright? You, too, Georgia. And all you people inside and outside of the justice system stop making race an issue in goddamn everything you possibly can. Let the evidence speak. By the way, the color of one's skin should NEVER be evidence, got it? If the fu*ker is guilty the evidence will say so...not their ethnicity or any kind of crap-doodle like that. Race is old goddamn news. Get over it.

Tea Party, you can take a friggin' hike. The United States is a coffee drinking nation anyways, or didn't you know that?

Mr. Obungle, thank JESUS you are not the coach of my favorite NFL team, because your plans SUCK!

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

God Speaks to Me I: Daily News Blog

This blog is written word for word as per the instructions of God the Irritated, who speaks through me...much like the way that God Almighty speaks through Pat Robertson. See, Pat, you are not the only one who can communicate with the make-believe.

Stupid, Stupid, Stupid
By: God the Irritated
While I normally do not like to involve myself in the absurd and nonsense filled activities of humans, I have decided to make an exception today. I watched several television news channels today and am appalled at the stupidity of some of the human beings that inhabit the planet and equally appalled at what is considered viable news.

Why don't we start with a commercial I saw while watching one of these news channels. So, this commercial comes on and is encouraging people worldwide to sign some kind of petition to show support for Israel, show support for peace in the Middle East, and to show how much people are against other nations in the Middle East waging war on Israel. Seriously. This grand petition is supposed to be circulated around the word not only to regular joes, but to political leaders everywhere.

Now, as you know there has been unrest in the Middle East since God knows when. Some people just can't seem to be happy unless they are pestering or bickering with someone else...and usually over religion in some form. Stupid. So stupid. What is even dumber is the idea that some grand petition will change the minds of people who are dead set on destroying others. Do you really think those who desire to wage war are going to give two shits and a monkey's ass about some petition? Nope, they don't. Even if you managed to get a billion signatures they wouldn't care. 

The next news bit to discuss has to do with the idiot 'hikers' who still have not been released by Iran. First things first, who the hell goes to Iran for a hiking trip? Have they heard of Yosemite, Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, the Matterhorn, Mount Everest, Mount McKinley, and an array of other places to hike? Secondly, who picks one of the most dangerous places in the world to go on a little backpacking trip? Lastly, our precious little backpackers don't look very much like backpacking hikers, do they? I thought the CIA was better at disguising themselves and blending in. I guess I was wrong. 

Now we discuss this Don't Ask, Don't Tell military policy taking a hike (Hah! Good pun considering what we were just discussing in the previous paragraph.). Myself and all the other gods in the universe don't give the tiniest damn what your sexual orientation is, got that? Stop making such a big fuss over guys who like the pole and girls who like the carpet.

Moving on, I am sure many people have heard of this 'killer' Killer Whale that has killed a third person. Some advice, stay out of his goddamn water and he'll probably leave you alone.
Next, we have some seismologists on trial for not issuing an adequate warning for an earthquake. How is that for amazingly stupid? The closest you can get to predicting an earthquake is, "Yep, you live by a fault line. Sooner or later the ground is gonna shake." Why don't Americans who are dissatisfied with the presidency of Mr. Obungle sue the democrats for offering and selling damaged and ineffective political goods?

Now we go on to the group of students who painted themselves black and wore the colors of the Jamaican flag in support of Jamaican track stars, or something like that. Oh, and they were chanting something like, "Smoke more pot! Smoke more pot! Smoke more pot!" And of course someone got their feelings hurt. Isn't it always like that? Someone takes a prank or a joke or something done in fun and purposely interprets it as racist in origin and racially discriminating in purpose. Awww. Did someone's few-lings get hurt? Poor wittle baby. No one was throwing bricks through windows, yelling racial slurs, beating up minorities, inciting a race riot, or trying to make a political statement. This is not a racial issue. Grow a fuc*ing backbone, people. There ARE real racial issues out there and this IS NOT one of them. This is a bunch of kids goofing off and having fun. Who fuc*ing cares? Are you going to stand there and point at everything that could be twisted into an issue of race, make it an issue of race, and cry that your feelings were hurt or that you were offended? Tell me, how many white people make a racial issue when minorities dress up as Santa Clause at Christmas?

Moving on to the news that some $1 billion dollars plus worth of San Francisco/Bay Area bridge work has been out sourced to China...well...what can you say? So much for some companies trying to help America resolve the growing unemployment rate. How many Americans or American companies could have been paid with all that money? Let China take care of its own jobs and its own money issues. Keep all that money and work in the United States where it is definitely needed.

Last, but certainly not least, let me say something about Mr. Obungle's proposed tax hikes of $3 trillion or so to the rich folk. It is supposed to take place over a period of ten years. That is not going to do crap to ease the debt of the U.S. That is $300 billion a year for ten years, but with rampant spending and ballooning debt, $300 billion a year is peanuts. When you have a country that regularly racks up TRILLIONS of dollars of debt every year, well, $300 billion a year won't do shit. Then, ten years from now the U.S. will be in even more debt than it is now. Not to mention, the proposed tax hikes mean absolutely DICK when the tax breaks offered counter the tax hikes. Hah! You never even left square one.

Most Sincerely,
God the Irritated

Thursday, September 8, 2011

In His Name II: Sacrifice

Sacrifice in the Holy Bible is out of control.
 Blood for this...
Blood for that...
Blood for a lot of things...
In fact, if you take the time to actually read through the Holy Bible, Old and New Testaments both, you will find hard evidence (how is that for a pun? Bible...hard evidence...HAH!) that the supposedly loving God of the universe LOOKS for reasons to kill something or someone. He makes a point of asking or telling people to kill others...even their own children. Then, to show how serious He is about wanting the blood of innocents, He murders His only Son in His own name. So, God sent His only begotten Son to be murdered in His (God's) own name. Hah! Do folks who believe in this crappy-doo actually pay attention to what it is exactly that they are putting so much faith in? Apparently not.

In His Name

There are so very many things that people claim to do on instruction from God, either directly or through the Holy Bible. When you hear someone spouting off about such as you are passing by...hell...ignore them. If they are talking directly to you about it tell them that lots of people think they are receiving instruction from beings that are non-existent. These people are called schizophrenic, psychopathic, pathological, AND plain fu*king crazy. Nothing like being disillusioned by the divine.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

The Autopsy of Christianity II

The Autopsy of Christianity Stoops: By Ester Lighthorse
Sample Chapter
Chapter 6

    It was one of the few times in her life that she was almost NOT able to take control of her temper and make herself stop. She very nearly killed Don right there in the airport terminal. It would not have been the end of the world if she had, but it wouldn’t exactly have been an easy situation to deal with.
    Instead she found herself coming out of her haze of rage as she saw that her fingers were buried deep in the neck of Don, his lifeblood seeping around the fingers that finally realized what they were doing.
    Regina’s breath caught in her throat as her brain registered the red blood that poured forth from Don and onto her hands. She pulled her hands away from his throat and it seemed as though they cried out in silent protest, begging to finish the job of silencing yet another unworthy comrade whom they had detested for so long.
    She felt the ebb of his life tip-toeing in the precipice of death. She was not sorry for what she had done, but she was sorry she found it necessary to save him when she was so close to completely and totally expunging the idiot from the face of the planet.
    Closing her horribly solid black agate eyes Regina took a slow, deep breath and reopened her eyes. They were back to their normal aqua blue color. She realized she was still atop Don, her right knee buried in his groin, and she moved her knee and straddled him. She took his arms and arranged each one straight out and then moved from her straddling position to pull Don’s legs straight.
    Then she reached over to where the broken flowerpot pieces lay scattered amidst the dark, peaty soil that it had once held and grabbed two fistfuls of the soil.
    She did not feel the pair of young eyes watching her.
    Taking the soil over to Don she placed it on his neck, laying it thickly where the blood had been draining from his body. Three more times she grabbed large fistfuls of the soil and placed it on Don’s neck and face and in his ears, nose, eyes, and mouth. When she was done she leaned forward and whispered into one of his soil-clogged ears.
    Don’s eyes flickered open and he sat up suddenly.
    “Regina! You’re all right!” Don spat clots of soil from his mouth and began to furiously slap the soil from his face and eyes and ears and nose. “Where is he? Where did he go?!” Don demanded as he tried to stand up. His ankle buckled and cried out at the sharpness of the hot pain, crumpling back down to the floor.
    “Yes, Don! I’m all right!” Regina said in a frightened voice. She caught Don as he crumpled to the floor after trying to stand, “No, Don. Don’t try standing. Your ankle might be broken. Oh, Don!” She threw her arms around her husband and hugged him fiercely. “The man threw the flowerpot at you and then ran. I was worried you were badly hurt and did not see which way he ran as I was tending to you. Oh, thank God you’re okay!”
    Regina helped Don slap away the soft clumps of soil that clung to his shirt. His hair stood out from his head in crazy directions, the silver of his age darkened by the dirt in his hair. Don felt the moisture on his neck  and his shirt felt sticky with it. He touched his hand to his shirt and then looked at his hand. For some reason he was sure he would see that the moisture on his hand would be his own blood. It wasn’t.
    “Oh you poor dear,” Regina crooned. “He threw his drink on you right before he punched you! You stumbled back and gave him quite a kick to the chest, and then he fell, picked up the flowerpot, and threw it at you!” She touched his cheek and he winced away in pain. “Don’t worry, Hon. I called security from the phone over there. They will be here any minute. Don?” He was looking at something on the floor with a curious expression. “What is it?” He put a finger in his mouth, felt around a moment, and then picked up two small items from the floor.
    “The attacker knocked out three of my molars!” Don exclaimed and then put his finger back into his mouth to confirm. “Here are two of them,” he held out his palm. Two crowns of two molars stared up at Regina from his palm. She took in the sight with genuine surprise. Don began to look around on the floor for the third crown, not that finding it would really make any difference. “Do you see the third tooth?” he asked her.
    “Uhm, no,” she answered as she too began to search for it. “Maybe you swallowed it.”
    Two hours later Don and Regina Stoops were the only passengers on a specially chartered flight from Los Angeles, California, to Epperson, Colorado. Don’s right leg was in a cast from the knee down. His ankle had been broken. When the security personnel at the airport had discovered that Don and Regina Stoops had been attacked they initiated an immediate shut-down of that section of the airport and embarked on a room by room search for the perpetrator. Unfortunately, the wily attacker had made his getaway.
    The attack on Don and Regina Stoops was all over the news, national and international. Regularly scheduled shows had been excitedly pushed aside on nearly every television station to instead focus on bringing to the public the latest information of the unfolding drama of what was now being referred to as the ‘Crisis on Calvary.’
    News anchors around the world relayed the story of how Don and Regina Stoops had found their son collapsed on the kitchen floor of his home just that morning. He had come around and complained to his parents that he was having a hard time breathing and his chest ached terribly. At first he had refused his parents’ pleas to be taken to the hospital, but when he felt his breathing become more difficult and his chest hurt even more Christianity relented. Don and Regina had taken him to Kelsey McGregor Memorial Hospital where he died a short time later. Memorial services were pending the autopsy results.
    The television channels would flash pictures of Christianity and his parents at various stages of his life as the voice of the news anchors continued in the background. Arial pictures of the swelling crowds at Kelsey McGregor Memorial Hospital were also shown. The crowds there had grown ten times in size after the news of Christianity Stoops’ death had been broadcast.
    The news reported that after their son had died Don and Regina Stoops left Epperson, Colorado, and took a flight to Los Angeles, California, to be with family members. Upon arriving at the airport Don and Regina had deplaned and were exiting the terminal when a man approached Don Stoops and yelled at him that he (Don) and Regina were guilty of taking away the light of the world by allowing their son to die. The man then threw his milkshake on Don and punched him. A short fight ensued wherein Don had three teeth knocked out. By the time security had arrived the attacker had made his getaway.

    Regina Stoops stared out of the small plane window onto the white cotton candy accumulation of clouds below. To her the story that she had spun on such short notice and planted in Don’s mind sounded thin, quite thin indeed. But, it would simply have to do until she came up with something better. All she needed was a short nap and a little bit of time to focus more clearly on what her objectives were.
    She took her eyes away from the window and closed her eyes and breathed in a deep and silent sigh. Without opening her eyes she reached for the button on her armrest that would put her seat into a declining position and pushed it. The seat eased back, not quite as much as she would have liked, but it would do.
    Pushing all other concerns from her mind Regina began to focus on what she needed most. First of all, she needed to figure out how she would deal with the discoveries that the doctors doing the autopsy on her son had no doubt already made and would eventually release to the public. What were they likely to say? That they had been doing an autopsy on a man that had two fully functioning hearts? It really didn’t matter whether or not the people receiving such absurd news believed what the doctors had to say. The very assertion of such a thing would dig up and revive too many old arguments, and this time more people would be willing to listen to what the opposition of Regina Stoops had to say. She simply could not have that.
    Then there was the fact that almost no one knew that Christianity Stoops was at Ecclesiastical Forensics Pathology. This would have been so much easier to deal with if the bodies had been switched as planned, but it was a moot point to think of such. She had to be the first to mention that her son’s body was no longer at Kelsey Memorial. And wherever she decided to say that her son’s body was it sure as hell could not be Ecclesiastical Forensics Pathology. This meant she had a hell of a lot of lying to do.
    Mordecai was a loose end (a loose end of Don’s creation) that would definitely have to be tied or burnt off. The doctors at Kelsey Memorial were not really a problem since Regina knew they would say whatever she asked them to. Don might think he was in control of that top of the line, state-of-the-art facility, but he was sadly mistaken. She was the one who was really behind the decisions of which doctors got to work there, which health programs and insurances were accepted, which new and amazing treatment discoveries were released to the public, and the protocol by which walk-in patients were accepted or turned away. The driver of the hearse that had held her son was nothing more than a sniveling idiot who could very easily be controlled with even the faintest promise of an Eight-Ball. And even if she decided to kill him, which she just might, no one would miss such a forgettable human being.
    No. The good folks over at Kelsey Memorial were not the ones that really concerned her. It was the good-for-nothing snoops over at Ecclesiastical Forensics Pathology that worried her. Doctors Roe and Seng had quite the reputation for getting directly to the heart of a matter, defining the problem, and suggesting a course of treatment that almost always worked. She had no control whatsoever over that facility. It was privately run and privately funded, and the doctors that worked there were the cream of the creamiest crop. They were brain-buster men and women who made a very good living leaving nothing to mere chance or simple belief. They were the most dangerous of people since they questioned everything, even their own conclusions.
    Regina had never really wanted her son sent to Ecclesiastical Forensics Pathology. All she wanted was the reputation that they had for finding and defining the truth, truth that was supposed to be found in what was the ringer corpse for her son. Unfortunately for her, the situation had more than gotten a little out of hand. It had taken a complete nose-dive into the realm of the Twilight Zone where everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong, and then some.
    In the long distant past Regina had had some run-ins with the faculty of Ecclesiastical Forensics Pathology. At first whenever they released a study or a treatment that she did not approve of she set about digging in her heels and doing everything possible to discredit them. However, because of their strict policy of finding solutions through consistent questioning and reasoning she had great difficulty in denouncing any of their claims. Eventually she resorted to agreeing with them on a limited basis, or simply taking whatever findings they made public and misinterpreting them in ways that were subtle, yet terribly damaging to those receptive of the misinterpreted information.
    She did not know how much information the doctors performing the autopsy had shared within the walls of their own institution. Deciding to play it safe she told herself to assume they had shared everything with everyone inside their own walls. Yet, without any current negative press about either herself or her son on the news she felt confident that they had not yet shared any of their information with anyone on the outside.
    Doctors Roe and Seng would definitely have to go, along with anyone else they told. But you just said they probably shared everything they discovered with everyone in their facility, she told herself. True. Very true. That left only one solution.
    Ecclesiastical Forensics Pathology, all of it, would have to go…lock, stock, and barrel.
    Regina opened her eyes with a start and glanced over at Don. He was in the next row over, plaster cast ankle propped up on the seat across from him, and head tilted back in a snore. Her lips slowly curled into a slight smile. She knew just how to deal with Roe and Seng and their special little facility.
    And as an added bonus, hell, she could get rid of the idiot sitting across the isle.

To acquire the full version of "The Autopsy of Christianity Stoops":

For discussions on Christianity/Faith/Religion/Atonement: 

The Autopsy of Christianity

The Autopsy of Christianity Stoops: By Ester Lighthorse
Sample Chapter

Chapter 5

    Regina Stoops was a woman of many talents. Highly intelligent and gifted in the arts of persuasion she was the master manipulator of all manipulators. Her intuitive powers were uncanny, and if a person was afraid of her she could smell that fear from a long ways away. She did not hesitate to utilize the fear she sensed in others to suit her own means and ends.
    A woman of old, Regina had more than just been around the block a few times. She was the one who had designed and built the block. She knew every nook and cranny, every shortcut, every alley way, every shadow. With ruthless precision she delegated the who, what, when, where, and why. It was not very often that she was bested by anyone, and whenever something like that did happen it was always a direct result of some asshole or other failing to follow instruction.
    She prided herself in the manner in which she had raised her only son, Christianity Stoops. From his very birth she taught him how to garner respect and instill fear. She taught him how to control and direct the minds of men. And in the event that those he led turned on him, she also taught her son how to slip through the judgments of humanity, re-create and re-invent himself, and then re-integrate into society.
    The death of her son was not a complete surprise to her. She knew damn well he was more than in just a little trouble health-wise. So, she had been biding her time and planning everything perfectly so that she would be able to render the proper treatment to cure that which ailed him. Unfortunately, for all of her intuitive abilities she had underestimated just how very deathly ill her son was. That was okay, though. She could work this out. She could make it work to her advantage. There was always a way to get done what needed to be done, and she always found that way.
    Something wasn’t quite right, though, and ever since leaving Kelsey McGregor Memorial Hospital she had felt an uneasy queasiness pecking away at her gut. At first it was relatively easy to push such thoughts away, marking it up to the stress of the situation. As the day pressed on it became harder and harder to ignore the feeling that something was terribly wrong. And now the feeling had settled over everything within her and without her like the thick blankets of doom that would settle over the Midwestern farms right before a brigade of tornadoes tore everything to shreds.
    Looking at Don as he gazed forlornly through the airport terminal window she immediately regretted not acting on her gut instincts to personally check whether or not the body of her son had been switched according to plan. In many respects, seeing was believing for Regina Stoops. She considered herself to be a woman of honor and expected people to take her at her word, yet detested taking people at their word. She liked to see things for herself, needed to see things for herself. It was better that way because then she could say without a doubt that she knew something for sure.
    It would have been as simple as unzipping the body bag upon arrival at Ecclesiastical Forensics Pathology and giving her ‘son’ a goodbye kiss on the forehead. In the few seconds it would have taken to do so she would have been able to tell whether or not her son was still in the bag or if he had been switched as instructed. The ringer corpse she had arranged to switch with her son’s body had all of the same tattoos, but was in far better physical condition. Under no circumstance did she want anyone to discover the true condition of the health of her son.
    After leaving Ecclesiastical Forensics Pathology in the hearse, Don had received a text on his cell phone that said “It is done.” It had been from Mordecai. Sitting so close together in the front of the hearse Regina had seen that the text had been from Mordecai. But, not wanting to make a scene in front of the hearse driver she had said nothing. Instead she looked straight ahead out of the windshield, forcing her bubbling temper to remain in check.
    And there was something else bothering her and gnawing at the fringes of her mind and begging to be brought front and center. It was something that had to do with the loading of her son’s body onto the hearse at Kelsey Memorial. Was it the hearse? No. Was it the gurney? No. Had she left something important at the hospital, maybe her identification or her purse? No. She had those things with her. What was it?
    She continued to brood over it and systematically began replaying the entire morning in her mind, checking things off as she recollected them. She was absolutely confident she would figure it out, probably in a rogue thought of instant illumination.
    Now as she approached Don in the airport terminal she wondered what in the hell else had gone wrong? And there was so very much that felt wrong, wasn’t there? Even though Mordecai (one of Regina’s least favorite people on the planet, a person whom she had given strict instruction to Don to NOT use in any part of their planning) had indicated that the switch had been done there were a million other things that could have gone wrong. Maybe someone noticed the extra-wide shape of the hearse and the extended thickness of the floor and decided to investigate. Maybe the mechanism in the floor that held the body of her son malfunctioned and they were having trouble getting him out. Maybe the private plane she had chartered to fly her son’s body out to Hawaii had met with disaster. Even if all of these things had happened she could fix them. It sure as hell would not be easy, but it could be done. Besides, what were the odds that so much or everything would go wrong?
    But with each step back to the airport terminal where she had left Don she wished she would have at least tried to look in the body bag before leaving Ecclesiastical Forensics Pathology. She would have felt much better at least seeing to that part for herself. If it was up to her, hell, she would do everything that needed to be done all by herself. Why? Because she trusted no one more that she trusted herself.
    It didn’t take a rocket scientist to read Don’s body language and tell something was very wrong. He was resting his head on the window, hands stuffed in his pockets and shoulders sagging forward. His posture gave Regina the impression that he was desperately trying to disappear, or at least make himself smaller so that he would be more difficult for her to spot. Somewhere in the back of her mind she had known that this was going to happen. She knew that somewhere along the line Don would stray from her path of instruction and end up fucking things over royally. This had happened every single time she had needed to come to the aid of her son in such an over-the-top, dramatic fashion.
    “Don?” Regina called to him. She watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard. She felt the anger within her building up in her heart and filling it, metamorphosing into rage. That rage increased exponentially with each breath she took in, sharply slicing away at the self-control she used to tame her temper. She felt her control slipping, the white-hot embers of her wrath beginning to spill over and course through her veins to every part of her body. She would kill him for sure. Not here in the airport, but she would definitely kill him. And just to show him how true to her word she was she would make his death long and suffering and terrible.
    And make no mistake about it he would deserve every bit of it.
    “Don?” Regina called out to him again. “ Don?” She thought for a moment he was doing something he had never done before. Ignoring her. “Don!” She absentmindedly clenched her fists. “I am talking to YOU, Don! Turn around!”
    He didn’t want to turn around, but he did. She saw that his eyes were wide with fear and tendrils of approval shot through her body. Now standing only a few feet from him she saw the sweat that beaded on his forehead and she knew that whatever news he had for her it was going to be the worst. Far worse than she would have ever expected.
    “R-Regina,” he stammered, “there’s, ah, there’s been some unfortunate developments.” He swallowed and his throat clicked dryly.
    “Has there been?”
    “Yes. The, uhm…our son-”
    “MY son,” Regina corrected Don.
    “Yes. Your son. He…uhm…” Don began to fiddle with the change in his pockets. Regina’s hands twitched, begging to fly to Don’s throat, to interlock their fingers, and then to shake whatever information this happy asshole was trying to say out of his mouth.
    “You know, Don, it would be better for you to just get out whatever it is you are having trouble with. You already know I am pissed. At the very least that should be obvious. So, why not save us both the added trouble and come out with it?”
    “He’s not on the plane to Hawaii.”
    “Uhm-hum. So, where is he?” She took a step forward directly into Don’s personal space. He tried to take a step back and met with the wall.
    “He’s not here at the airport,” Don almost whispered.
    “Then WHERE is he, Don? Or maybe you would rather play twenty questions?” Regina’s voice had started to rise. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl as she spoke, “Is he still in the hearse?”
    “No,” Don answered in a very small voice.
    “Did the hearse driver go back to Kelsey? Is his body still there?”
    “No,” Don answered, and Regina could smell the sour acid that was bubbling in his stomach on his breath.
    “Then WHERE is he?”
    “At Ecclesiastical Forensics Pathology.”
    Christ. This was very bad news indeed.
    “Is that so?” Regina’s expression darkened. “And why, pray tell, is my son still there?” Don saw that Regina’s expression was not the only thing that had darkened. He could no longer see the pupils in her aqua blue eyes. Neither could he see the aqua blue of the iris.
    Regina’s eyes were completely and totally black.
    Don felt his bladder spasm, and if it hadn’t been for the fact he had emptied his bladder twenty minutes ago in the men’s room of the terminal he would have urinated on himself.
    “They are doing…an autopsy…on him. As we speak the doctors are examining his body-” Don’s words were cut short. Regina’s hand had moved with a swiftness that ninjas only dreamt about, leaving a perfect, red hand mark that covered the majority of the right side of his face. Don cried out in pain and terror, pissing off Regina even more who promptly brought her other hand across the other side of Don’s face.
    “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” Regina screamed into his face, and just like that her conscious mind locked onto what was wrong about loading her son onto the hearse over at Kelsey Memorial.
    There were no camera crews filming the event.
    Not her special camera crew or anyone else’s. At least none that she could see, at any rate.
    “You STUPID mother fucker!” she exclaimed through clenched teeth. The cords in her neck stood out ferociously and her face burned crimson. “You forgot to call the mother FUCKING camera crew? What the fuckey-DOO am I gonna tell everyone now, you goddamn imbecile?!”
    Don instinctively looked around the terminal for help, but save for the mother and two children who were scurrying away from that particular airport terminal and down the hallway to, well, to someplace else, there was no one.
    “Regina! Please!” Don begged as he brought his hands up to protect his face. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know!”
    “Didn’t know what? Huh? How to follow fucking simple instructions?” Regina roared, violently grabbing him by the lapels and jerking his face so close to her own that their noses almost touched.
    “Mordecai! Mordecai! He didn’t mean to send the text saying it was done to me! He made a mistake! A mistake! He was sending the text to-” Don broke off mid sentence as he felt himself lifted and thrown like a child’s rag doll over three rows of chairs. His body turned and twisted in the air, and when he came down he landed awkwardly on the side of his head, his neck twisting, shoulder crunching, and back painfully scraping the metal armrest of one of the chairs.
    “YOU!” Regina screamed like a banshee in pain, moving with the eerie swiftness of an owl’s shadow in the light of a midnight moon.
    “No! Regina, please!” Don begged as he righted himself and tried to stand up. “Mordecai didn’t even make it into the hearse! H-he was h-high on m-meth-” Don screamed as Regina half crouched and grabbed his testicles in one hand and his neck in the other. She threw him again, this time her uncontrolled anger propelling him even further. He hit the top of the airline check-in desk and skittered across the top sending papers flying every which way. His momentum carried him off of the desk and he promptly landed in a large clay flowerpot that broke.
    Don rolled to his side amidst the dark, peaty dirt and broken pieces of pottery. He knew Regina was coming for him. He could feel her coming for him, her black agate eyes shining with hate and the fingers of both her hands pulled into talons that were more than ready and willing to quite literally reduce him to a pile of ribbons.
    He lost his balance as he tried to stand up and thrust his hands out to catch himself. His hands came down on the razor sharp pieces of broken pottery and he cried out in pain and fear. He had hit his temple quite hard when he landed on the desk and his ears were ringing so he sensed more that heard Regina moving behind him. He swayed as he stood up and turned to face her, his bleeding palms held out in surrender.
    “Plea-” Don had intended to tell Regina that he was pretty sure that the only people who had seen the real body of Christianity Stoops were the two doctors performing the autopsy. Well, the two doctors and maybe their assistants who probably didn’t do much more than measure, weigh, and take pictures of the body, however that went. He didn’t get very far with what he wanted to say when an explosion of stars speckled his vision.
    Regina had spun smartly around on the ball of one foot and connected one of her fists with Don’s jaw. Three of Don’s molars broke off where the crowns met the gum-line and he fell back, arms pin wheeling and legs collapsing. Feeling a sharp pain in his throat he numbly realized in a far away thought that he had swallowed a tooth. He fell hard on the floor and a random thought flitted across his mind: My foot feels different. He had lost one of his shoes.
    Then Regina was upon him like a great and terrible monster released from a pit, wrapping her hands around his throat and squeezing with hellish force. She kicked one leg back mimicking a donkey kick and then brought her knee straight into his crotch with deadly aim. The world started to swim away from Don in a wave of white-hot sparks that occurred in a realm of pain he never knew existed, much less ever experienced.
    Right before he passed out he realized he had indeed peed his pants after all.

To acquire the full version of "The Autopsy of Christianity Stoops": OR go to this website:

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

From Another Angle VIII: Best of Times

From Another Angle VII: Even Better Times

Well, He DID say in the Holy Bible (a b-zillion times at that) that He IS a jealous God.
For discussions on Christianity/Religion/Faith/Salvation/End Times Crap/Rapture:

From Another Angle VI: Good Times

From Another Angle V: Crazier

From Another Angle IV: More Craziness

From Another Angle III: Craziness

Some people seem to think that the more religion they inject into their lives, the better. Hey, there are many, many things that surround us on a daily, moment to moment basis that are good or COULD be good. But, even too much of these things can be very destructive or degenerative or immobilizing or terrorizing or demeaning or misleading or infecting or harmful or mean or sadistic or lethal...hell, you know as well as I that the list can go on and on.

For more discussions on religion:

From Another Angle II: Screwy

Religions founded on the Holy Bible have some very peculiar beliefs, one of them being that eating wafer and drinking the holy wine signifies eating Jesus' body and drinking his blood. Nice. Let's all pretend like we are cannibals of some holy being. You know what is crazy? Tell various Christians that you are having a ceremony where you are 'calling corners' and that you are using salt for protection as you contact the Guardians of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. You are not eating anyone's body or drinking anyone's blood...and you are also NOT pretending to do these things. But, what will many Christians tell you? They will tell you that you are practicing Satanism or that you are misled or that the Devil has blinded you or some other happy horse poop that they dream up in an effort to make their own practices seem better, safer (spiritually), saner, more true...and a whole bunch of other things. Where is the balance in this? How can people not see the disparity in this? Do people really think that pretending to eat a body and drink blood sounds any more sane or real? Seriously.

For more questions and answers on Christianity/Religion:

From Another Angle

Read the Holy Bible and find out for yourself what a friendly fellow God ISN'T. Need a Holy Bible? Well, go to this link:  or this one: or even this one:

Saturday, September 3, 2011

The Twenty-Seventh Book of The Tenement Gospel (the REAL Holy Bible New Testament)

 The Tenement Gospel
 (the REAL version of the original translation of the Holy Bible New Testament)

The Book of Revelatin’
(the twenty-seventh book of The Tenement Gospel)

Chapter 1

    1 What it is, my brotha? This here be me revelatin’ to you about the Tenement Gospel as so stated by God his own self, so that the muthas who be prisoners of the Gospel of Disaster might be doin’ something to be settin’ theyselfs free.
    2 Now, the folks who be preachin’ the Gospel of Disaster be sayin’ that they scriptures be the complete and indelible truth, but this be a bunch of horse shit.
    3 The reason for this be simple, ‘aight? They main problem be that they faith be based on a load of frightening prophecies that be making no damn sense no how. Now that be what we gonna be talkin’ about here, you dig?
    4 But before I gets into tellin’ ya’ll what ya’ll should be lookin’ out for an’ shit, I wanna be greeting you and thankin’ you for being here and readin’ this, ‘aight?
    5 So, with all the love in the universe that be making up what God be, I bless you and hope that all thangs be goin’ well for you and all of yours, you dig? Know in your heart that wherever you are, so God is there also regardless of whether or not you want him to be.
    6 I have been charged by God and all that be making up what God be to write this book so that ya’ll know the truth about what to be expectin’ from the nut cases who be spoutin’ off about the Gospel of Disaster.
    7 Now, these things be coming to me through a dream, granted a really whacked out dream that in all fairness could have been a direct result of the mow I smoked. I am writin’ these things exactly as I herd ‘em or saw ‘em in my dream, ‘aight?
    8 In my dream I be standin’ on the most beautiful, white sand beach that be havin’ the most gorgeous blue water. And stuck in the white sand be these really cool lookin’ tiki torches.
    9 And standin’ near these tiki torches was this servant guy who be bringin’ anything I be askin’ for. So, I gots a really cool drink in a pineapple. Now the guy standin’ near the torches be havin’ Rasta braids and be smokin’ really great mow.
    10 And dude says to me, Ya’ll be writin’ this down, foh-shizzle, so people be payin’ attention to what they should be doin’. And if people be sayin’ to youz that they don’t be havin’ the info that they be needin’ you tell them they full of shit,
    11 For everything that people be needin’ to be knowing in order to be livin’ happy and healthy and abundant lives be all around them if only they be openin’ they eyes and they minds and they hearts and they spirits. This be the truth, my dizzle.
    12 And tell this to people so that they be knowing that there ain’t no alpha and no omega, for everything be now and all at once, you dig? That be what Jesus be tryin’ to tell people about what the ‘I Am’ be meanin’. It be meanin’ oneness with the ‘now’, you dig?
    13 Now folks needin’ to be knowin’ that there ain’t no big damn tribulation that all that be makin’ up God in this universe be making people to be going through. Don’t ya’ll know you be making all your own tribulations?
    14 God ain’t tryin’ to put people through more of that shit! Hell no! God be trying to help ya’ll get yo asses out of the bad things you done gone and did to ya’lls selfs.
    15 So youz go and be writing down everything that I be telling’ you so that hopefully somebody be payin’ attentions an’ start gettin’ shit right, you dig?
    16 So, I done told the guy with the Rasta braids who be smokin’ a doobie that I be doin’ exactly like he be tellin’ me an’ writin’ everything down.

Chapter 2

    1 And a voice said to look and I looked, and I saw nine golden pot bongs standing in a thick haze of smoke from the most holy mow. Then did the voice say, It is four and twenty.
    2 Then was a righteous doobie passed unto me and I did smoke of the most holiest of mows. Then a voice said, You must be hungry.
    3 I turned toward the sound of the voice and, behold! I saw a man clothed in the garment of an ice cream man, girded about the chest with cinnamon buns, his hair was the blinding salmon pink of cotton candy,
    4 His head was a nacho tortilla chip and his eyes were watermelon flavored ring-pops; his arms were fruit roll-ups and his fingers were golden corndogs; his thighs were carne asada burritos and his calves were churros;
    5 His ankles were hickory smoked turkey drumsticks and his feet were buttermilk biscuits with sweet potato toes.
    6 As I began to eat the ankles and the toes of the man before me he spoke, saying, Know that the things I am about to tell you are the things that those of the Gospel of Disaster say are about to take place, but never will,
    7 Or they are things that those of the Gospel of Disaster normally be spoutin’ off about for one reason or other.
    8 And I be fallin’ at the feet of this fella an I told him that I was not into lisnin’ to some puffed up scriptural mumbo-jumbo that said I was going to be burning in somebody’s hell. And he said to me,
    9 No, Bozo! I am not gonna preach that crap to you. I am telling you what to look out for from the people who do preach that crapola for shits and giggles and for the purpose of scarin’ the beejesus out of everybody on the planet who don’t be believin’ like they do.
    10 Now, listen up! The folk who be teachin’ the Gospel of Disaster shall be claimin’ all kinds of signs and symbols and messages in damn near anything that be happnin’ or not happnin’, you dig?
    11 Now some of the messengers of the Gospel of Disaster claim to know that the works and labors of those of the Tenement Gospel are evil and that the preachers of the Tenement Gospel are false apostles.
    12 The reason why those of the Gospel of Disaster claim the teachings of the Tenement Gospel to be false is because such a message preached is not one they wish to hear about,
    13 For the purveyors of the Gospel of Disaster do not wish to hear that they have completely departed from the message of love of the universe, and in doing so they have also left God,
    14 And instead of treating their fellow men with acceptance they point to them and say, Look! They are doing this wrong! Look! They are doing that wrong!
    15 He who has half a mind to hear don’t listen to those of the Gospel of Disaster, for such say nothing worth hearing when they preach about the things they hate and the people they hate and the practices they hate.
    16 It is true, however, that those of the Gospel of Disaster who overcome the urge to hate and detest and abuse others shall in turn overcome the fruits of the Tree of Disaster, therefore reverting back to the love that comprises what God is.
    17 And some of the messengers of the Gospel of Disaster say that to suffer tribulation and poverty and grueling life demands is in reality to live with richness and wealth in life,
    18 Yet, these very same messengers become very rich and live comfortable lives with the very same money they beg for and take from those who really are poor and suffering in the depths of poverty;
    19 Such messengers slander the faith and the love that they supposedly preach, and in doing so neglect all that is God.
    20 And they tell their flocks to not fear or worry about their seemingly endless well of suffering in the now, for those suffering are told they will be rewarded most richly in a distant, later life,
    21 For the Gospel of Disaster states that its followers must be faithful in everything, even unto death. In return the faithful are promised crowns of life, but a faith that preaches death in the now and life in the later is doomed to disarray.

Chapter 3

    1 And some messengers of the Gospel of Disaster say that all other faiths are like double-edged swords and cut the hearts of those who hold alternate faiths or no faith at all, and cut the ears of all who hear messages of different faiths,
    2 For the Gospel of Disaster claims that all other faiths are stumbling blocks and not intended to bring people to God, but rather to take people away from God. Such messengers say,
    3 Lo! Faiths of a different origin are from Satan and therefore do not qualify as a valid belief.
    4 The messengers of the Gospel of Disaster say that all other faiths and members of such faiths must immediately repent of their wicked faiths and their wicked ways lest they be cut-off from the truth of the Gospel of Disaster,
    5 For those who believe differently than peddlers of the Gospel of Disaster will find that a holy war has been declared upon them under the guise of preaching a peaceful gospel,
    6 And it is in such a cause that those of the Gospel of Disaster say that their faith is the one, true faith that is above all others, saying,
    7 To the man who has ears to hear, let him plug them up so he will not have to listen to the sin of all other faiths,
    8 For the God of the Gospel of Disaster promises that those who listen only to him shall be given special stones that no one else shall receive or even know about.
    9 And there are those messengers who claim that God hates the tolerance of any faith other than theirs, calling all other faiths sinful and evil and filled with idol worship.     10 The same messengers even accuse believers of other faiths of being wicked fornicators and of purposely sacrificing the truth, therefore giving just cause to treat other religions as adulterous in nature,
    11 For according to the Gospel of Disaster members of different faiths or no faith at all shall be thrown into the fires of a great tribulation,
    12 But I say to you to never fear these things for they shall never be. Those of the message of disaster shall claim to have authority over all other nations and religions, but this is one of the biggest bullshit lies in the history of religion.
    13 If a man has the ears to hear then he shall do himself a favor and never lend an ear to the Gospel of Disaster, for such a gospel that is steeped in fear can never bring about anything nurturing or beneficial.
    14 And much like a neglectful parent toward an unwanted child the Gospel of Disaster labels all other beliefs as dead in faith, ignoring them as though they were bastard children.
    15 Messengers of the disastrous faith say that no man is saved by works, but then these same muthas turn around and point to other faiths, saying,
    16 Look what they are saying, look what they are doing, look at what they are believing, and look at what they do not do. We are better than they are for the works we live by are loved by the one, true God.
    17 The messengers of disaster become a source of great disdain amongst many nations, and they claim such disdain as a sign of their longsuffering, but in reality it is everyone else who suffers at the hands of those that are caked with the muddiness hate.
    18 It is God that blesses anyone who has the endurance and tenacity and the patience to ignore and put up with the crap of the Gospel of Disaster.

Chapter 4

    1 The scriptures of the Gospel of Disaster cannot be truth since they were penned by a bunch of picky bastards who only chose to write about what they liked, what they wanted to hear, and about those things they could use to control people with.
    2 Such people are blind so long as they hold onto the Gospel of Disaster, for so long as they fail to see the many paths that lead to God, they shall not have eyes that recognize anything of great or lasting value.
    3 When venomous men such as these come to your door and ask for the ears of your heart, do not let them in for they will only devour you and the objectiveness of your spirit.
    4 After I was shown all of these things I was given another mega doobie of the most holy of mows and told, Smoke up, for you will now be shown those things the proponents of the Gospel of Disaster shall say and do during what they think is the end.
    5 Then I was made non-corporeal and taken before a very large throne made of skeletons that had been dipped in gold, and upon the golden skeletons were green emeralds with many small rainbows seeping out from them.
    6 And around this large throne of golden skeletons were many, many smaller thrones identical in appearance, and upon the miniature thrones were many different manifestations of those who preach the Gospel of Disaster,
    7 And behold! A voice said unto me, Look at these who sit here one these thrones made of skeletons dipped in gold. They have convinced themselves that they are above all because they have built a throne similar to the one they claim to be God’s throne,
    8 But the very throne they claim to be God’s throne is the same throne they created in secret and labeled in secret to be God’s own. Though they claim to have discovered this throne it is not so, for they worship their own creation.
    9 One cannot discover what one has created. That is some stupid shit.
    10 Standing in the midst of all the thrones is a great beast with many sharp teeth, hateful red eyes, razor sharp talons of the hardest metal, a tongue of fire, the belly of a dragon, the feathers of a chicken, and the whiskers of a catfish.
    11 And the beast had many eyes and many mouths from which came many negative words and phrases, and those sitting on the thrones looked upon the beast with awe, bowed to it and prayed to it. Then a voice said to me,
    12 See these people on the thrones worshiping this beast? These are the proponents of the Gospel of Disaster. Do you know what the beast they worship is? It is the fear that they rely on in order that they control people with their blind rhetoric.
    13 And behold, a dead horse, and the men standing astride of it were beating it in order to get it to comply with their wishes, but it would not respond for it was dead. Crowns with the word ‘Dunce’ were given unto the men who beat the horse,
    14 For they were trying to sell the dead horse in an effort to pass it off as something valuable. Unto the people who passed them by they said, Come, buy this horse and it shall till your gardens and take you anywhere you wish to go.
    15 And when some people passing by asked why the men were trying to sell a dead horse the men said, It is not dead, only resting. For the men who buy this horse and manage to wake it, it shall be an asset unto them.
    16 It came to be that some of those passing by the men with the dead horse paid them no mind at all while others simply wanted to stare at the carcass and yet others wanted to buy it.
    17 And behold, I saw a green horse, and the man who sat on him wore golden armor and held a great sack of money. The horse had a bridle and a saddle made of pure silver. And this man had the ability to speak sweet words to people in order that they give him their money,
    18 For he promised them that if they gave him money he would lead them to the eternal way and to a special seat in heaven next to Jesus.
    19 Then I turned, and behold, I saw a blue horse, and the man who sat on him was crying and his expression was one of great sorrow. And to this man was given the burden of a heavy heart,
    20 For he allowed the destructive promises of his supposed faith to divide him from his family and from his friends and from society.
    21 And I looked again, and behold, I saw a yellow horse, and the man who sat on him was trembling with great fear. And this man was consumed by the non-sensical rumors of what might happen to him when he would die,
    22 For this man chose his faith according to the terrible tribulations that that particular faith promised to save him from if he would only believe.
    23 Then there came a great noise like an air horn at a football game, and I saw all of the lives of people who chose to wage war in the name of God and of faith, and they cried out, What is this that we have done to each other?
    24 For we say we know the mind and the love of God and then we murder each other, burn one another’s cities and towns, lay waste to lands meant to sustain the life of people, and even commit heinous suicides thinking it makes us martyrs.
    25 And as these people are reborn many consign themselves to try to compensate for the atrocities they enacted in their previous lives.

Read more of The Tenement Gospel:

The Twenty-Sixth Book of The Tenement Gospel (the REAL Holy Bible New Testament)

The Tenement Gospel
(the REAL version of the original translation of the Holy Bible New Testament)

The Book of Judes
(the twenty-sixth book of The Tenement Gospel)

Chapter 1

    1 Yo, dog! This be Judes, no longer a slave to The Man, I am the brotha to all those with brothas from another mutha! Released on bond and kept home by some ankle jewelry!
    2 Whut-up! May the love and piece of a sexy lady be upon you, foh-shizzle!
    3 Fallin’ back on my fifth grade edumacation, I be writin’ you ‘bout the salvation for us all. I had tuh be writin’ you’z so I be sure you be preachin’ the most ho-leh Tenement Gospel.
    4 Now it be the truth that some half-ass pimp daddies be sneakin’ in and tryin’ tuh change the Tenement Gospel, trying to hide the richness from the po’ folk.
    5 Neh’ mind that shit, ‘cause ya’ll know I be tellin’ that gumbo straight up, ‘aight? Don’ be messin’ with no bullshit some punk be tellin’ you that Tenement Gospel ain’t true.
    6 And those pimp punks that be tryin’ to tell you what to be doin’ even though they be fuckin’ they own shit up and shittin’ where they be eatin,’ well they got another thing coming their way, baby.
    7 So don’t you be all worryin’ an shit, ‘aight?
    8 Ya’ll be leavin’ them doomsday an’ hellfire damnation crackpots alone, you get me, dog? You cain’t be tellin’ them truth if they ain’t lisnin’. You know why?
    9 Cause these mother fuckers be crazy, dog! If you be standin’ on dry land and breathin’ air these dudes be jumpin’ in the ocean and try breathin’ under water just to spite you.
    10 Shee-it. Ya’ll don’t be needin’ no jive turkeys like that, fuck no!
    11 Now these dudes be sayin’ that God nuked Sodom and Gomorrah just ‘cause they like sex and they be homos and lesbos.
    12 But this ain’t the truth, brotha! God ain’t like that, no way an’ hell no!
    13 See, the Tenement Gospel be sayin’ that love be patient, kind, forgiving, non-judgmental, an’ it be goin’ on forever.
    14 The Tenement Gospel also be sayin’ that God himself is love, see.
    15 If y’all take the time to connect the dots you be seein’ that if God be love, foh-shizzle he is, there ain’t no way he be sendin’ people to hell. Wanna know why, dog?
    16 He cain’t send them to hell ‘cause he be love, ‘aight? An’ if he be love then he also be forgiving. An’ if he be love then he also go on forever. And if he goes on forever and be forgiving at the same time,
    17 Then he forgive everybody for all the stupid shit they done do…forever. An’ it don’t matter if they ask forgiveness or not, and it doesn’t matter whether or not they be believin’ on God or not,
    18 For if love is non-judgmental, then God is also not gonna be pickin’ who he feel like forgivin’ and not forgivin’.
    19 And the same mo’ fos that be sayin’ this shit also be sayin’ that sex an’ pleasure be bad, that partyin’ be bad, that money be bad, and that position and influences be bad.
    20 But these dudes don’t be knowin’ any better ‘cause they be wrapped up in thinkin’ they better ‘cause of what they be believin’ in.
    21 And these mutha fuckas be arguin’ against whatever they don’t know, and whatever they don’t be understandin’, and whatever they be feelin’ is against them an’ opposite of what they be thinkin’ is truth.
    22 And the hearts of these assholes be corrupted by their thinkin’ that there be only one answer to everything, that there be only one truth and only one straight line to that truth.
    23 Well, I feel sorry for these mutha fuckas because they be goin’ the way of Cain when he killed his brotha and then left his homeland without makin’ things right.
    24 These beanbag for brains jack-offs be just like the muthas that plotted against Korah an’ his gang and called on the power of the God they understood to destroy Korah and his gang,
    25 Just because Korah an’ his company be belivin’ in Balaam.
    26 And these muthas try to mask their desire to subjugate those who believe differently and live differently, but they cain’t be hidin’ the dark whispers of superiority in their hearts.
    27 For they live in constant fear of a day that may or may not come ‘cording to whatever religious text they be translatin’.
    28 And these muthas say, Come, throw down with us so you be escapin’ judgment from a terribly angry God who is really a lovin’ God.
    29 Come with us an’ love like we do, talk like we do, walk like we do, think like we do, eat what we eat, see what we see, and spread our Gospel of Disaster by livin’ in fear just as we do.
    30 But these muthas don’t be seein’ that by bein’ this way they wander the eternity of their lives in gloomy darkness.
    31 And even Enoch, a descendant of Adam, prophesied about muthas like these fuckas and said,
    32 Behold, there shall be those who be sayin’ they be the only ones of the Lord, and who shall proclaim they be the only saints of God,
    33 And they shall be expert guilders of the languages of all men, master manipulators who shall cause men to forget that we are all God, and in God, and of God, and for God, and possessing of the powers of God,
    34 And these men shall be settin’ muthas against one another by complanin’, murmuring, and sayin’ ridiculous shit that only serves to make people angry with one another;
    35 But you be remainin’ strong and remember the words of the Tenement Gospel that be commandin’ you to live your life to love, and love your life to live,
    36 Bein’ mindful of the wonderful joy of many paths and the beauty of many faiths and truths. Such be the words of Enoch.
    37 Don’t be forgettin’ that those mutha fuckas who make purposeful separations between the nations of the earth and of the universe have fuckin’ ugly spirits and little black hearts that find joy in the supposed greater spiritual value and choices of some men over others.
    38 But you, homey, know this and be keepin’ it in your heart: There is common ground and joy in everything, and that, in and of itself, is absolutely holy.
    39 For when you be seein’ many different faiths, you should also be seein’ that the common ground ‘tween them all is the fact that they all be faith.
    40 And when you be hearin’ the prayin’ and chantin’ and invocations and spells and spiritual commands of many faiths, you should also be hearin’ that they all be prayer.
    41 And when you be witnessin’ love ‘tween two people whether it be two men, two women, or a man and a woman, you should also be understandin’ in your heart an’ mindful in your spirit that you are witnessin’ love, and love be one of the few absolutes in this universe.
    42 Now it be hard for some mutha fuckas to understand the grace of the Tenement Gospel, so you be havin’ some mercy on them. ‘Course, that don’t be meanin’ you have to take they shit if they decide to try to give it to you.
    43 If you can, save them mo’ fos from the bullshit they be tryin’ to peddle to the rest of the world. Save them from gettin’ burned by the fire of the crap they be creating.
    44 Just you be rememberin’, homey, they be those who you cain’t be savin’ until they hit the ground first. Some muthas just don’t be learnin’ until something’ bad be sneakin’ up on they ass.
    45 So, you be keepin’ the words of God in the Tenement Gospel very near and dear to your heart, know what I’m sayin’, for to honor that which is God is to honor yourself, and to honor yourself is to honor your fellow man.
    46 To God be all the glory forever an’ ever, foh-shizzle! Amen.

For more of what is discussed in The Tenement Gospel: