Despair and Self-loathing in Armegeddon

Do you believe in predestination? Rationally, predestination did not seem possible-- we have Free Will and the right to act as one chooses. I always pondered such metaphysical mysteries when I accompanied my wife to church. It might be the endless acapella songs that prefaced the Sunday morning sermon that put me into a trance. I don't sing and since the Church of Christ did not believe in any type of musical instruments to accompany their hymns it seemed my tragic singing voice could be heard easier. The real reason I would drift off was my upbringing in the Brethren of the Kingdom of God which soured my tolerance for any organized religion. I was an equal opportunity heretic, from Baptist to Buddhist I was not buying it.

I am not an atheist, but more of a Quantum Deist. There is a higher power that can and does shepherd his creation in a certain direction. However, no person or organization can lead one to salvation--it is my responsibility to live a moral, ethical, and altruistic life and see where I end up. When I was five, I believed in organized religion and that the organization was the Brethren of the Kingdom of God, or "The Church" as it was termed by the brethren.

The Church was led by Harold Powers, God's Apostle. Trent Powers, Harold's son, was the heir-apparent to run The Church if Harold Powers was no able to fulfill his role as God's Apostle. It was unlikely that anything would happen to Mr. Powers as it was 1968 and the Tribulation was only four years away. The most obedient and worthy brethren of The Church would be whisked away to The Place of Safety, so as not to suffer the Tribulation like the "worldly" people.

At age five I believed in predestination. I did not know what the word meant, but the concept was cemented in my mind. We were God's chosen people so our future was assured. That was why I was so proud that I was fasting for the Day of Atonement for the first time. I was now one step closer of going to The Place of Safety.

The fasting was not easy. I remember my head was pounding nearly as bad as the time the bumble bee stung me near my eye. I looked at my two year old sister, Nicole with a mixture of anger, resentment and jealously. Nicole or Cole, as I had tagged her, was serenely sucking on a bottle of ice cold water while God's Apostle preached the truth in the October East Texas heat. I was 20 hours into the Day of Atonement fast and I was fantasizing about what I would eat once the sun set. I was proud of myself for fasting but with four hours until sunset and the increasing decibels of God's Apostle preaching "the truth"; my headache was worsening.

"Brethren, the days are growing short--even now Satan has put his minions in place. Soon Trent and I will go to Jerusalem to witness the deception of the Anti-Christ and die in the service of Jesus to bring about the Millennium. We will surely die in the streets of Jerusalem, but will miss out on the terrible Great Tribulation that will follow. If you do not obey and render your very hearts to God, YOU WILL NOT BE RESURRECTED AND RULE BY THE SIDE OF JESUS IN HIS KINGDOM. YOU WILL BE CAST INTO THE PITS OF GEHENNA.

I was sitting next to Mr. Allen and his breath smelled like rotten cantaloupe--this further increased my discomfort. Mr. Allen was a nice man who, at the best of times, had the scent of a very dirty armpit with fecal undertones. It was normally standard operating procedure to keep an empty seat between yourself and Mr. Allen, but today all of God's people within driving distance came to hear God's Apostle speak. It was standing room only and I was packed right next to Mr. Allen, who, as a habitual mouth-breather, was disseminating his malodorous foulness very effectively. Cole was escaping Mr. Allen's breath and much of the heat since she was lying on her pallet on the floor. Dad started making me sit up through the church services when I turned four, so now I was inside Mr. Allen's turd breath zone.

One benefit of sitting next to Mr. Allen was that I was able to get an up close view of his tremendous warts. The warts could be considered disfiguring, but I could not help being transfixed by the carbuncles. The largest wart was on the top right side of his head and was almost an inch in diameter, and then every one to two inches a wart protruded from Mr. Allen's head until the final wart nestled on top of his right eyebrow. In a cruel twist of irony, Mr. Allen had a very scant horseshoe of white gray hair around the sides and back of his head, but three huge coarse curly hairs grew out of each of the eight warts on his head. I had this overwhelming compulsion to reach over and pull one hair out of one of the warts, but of course I did not. I was very worried about these weird thoughts and compulsions I had, I knew I should not have bad thoughts or think ill of others; it could allow Satan to keep me out of the Place of Safety for my wicked thoughts.

I looked at God's Chosen People in the auditorium and was amazed how easy it would be to pick out a church member out of a crowd. Harold Powers made it clear that it was God's mandate that no woman should wear make up or be painted like a whore (I asked Dad what is a whore and he said it was bad woman and that is all I needed to know). Furthermore, women could wear no dress that rose above the knees. The men also had their own prohibitions, the hair must be worn short and sideburns could not come below the middle of the ear. Remember, this was 1968 and the "worldly people" were wearing their hair quite long. Likewise, bell bottoms were strictly prohibited since the drug taking, long haired, rock and roll hippies wore them. Aside from the outward appearance, I noticed that many of God's Chosen People were losers in life's earthly contest. Many had physical afflictions. Most were rather poor and several were the outcasts of society. Mom always told me it did not matter how God's people fared in the "worldly" domain, because soon we would be gods and rule at the right hand of Jesus. Dad always said the first shall be last and the last shall be first. That is probably why Mr. Allen did not have the warts removed. Once God brought Jesus back to rule over the Millennium all physical afflictions would be healed or removed. Also, if Mr. Allen removed the warts, it would show a lack of faith and might keep him out of the Kingdom of God. Of course, it would be fine if a Minister anointed Mr. Allen to have the warts removed, but if they remained that was God's will and he would have to live with the warts until the Millennium arrived. Again, I thought of predestination and wondered if Mr. Allen's warts had a celestial reason for their existence. Predestined?

Harold Powers, God's Apostle, continued his message of Millennial salvation. My earliest memories of "The Church" was thinking Harold Powers was God and Trent, being Harold's son, was Jesus Christ. It made sense to my three year old brain; the ministers always spoke of God the Father and his only begotten son. By five, I knew that the real God and Jesus were up in Heaven until Jesus comes back to cast Satan out of the world. Ironically, when I studied the faces of the other brethren it appeared that they thought he WAS God from the expressions of rapture, reverence, and awe. The brethren not only deified Harold Powers, they had complete faith in his message. Not only did they adhere to Holy Days that mainstream Christians would find strange if not heretical. The Day of Atonement was a good example, since The Church observed a majority of the Old Testament Jewish Holy Days, ate kosher, but also banned the observance of Christmas, Halloween and other "worldly" holidays. Finally, they gave 10% of their income to Powers all year long and additionally gave more offerings on the numerous Church Holy Days. It was expensive preparing the world for the return of Jesus and the casting out of Satan.

Mr. Powers was on a roll that day. We had been sitting on the torturous metal chairs for three hours and God's Apostle showed no signs of concluding his message.The auditorium was very hot because it had no air conditioning and close to two thousand brethren showed up to hear God's Apostle--all emanating heat, unbelievable body stench and an amalgam of toxic bad breaths that had no water pass their lips in twenty hours. To worsen things, my butt was sweating and a tremendous itch began that no amount of squirming could eliminate. I never new why they used the agonizing torture chamber chairs. The one upside were the chairs were excellent fart amplifiers.

My best friend, Richie, once purposefully cut a colossal fart on one of the rigid chairs during a church services; it sounded like 20 men unanimously hammering a tin roof with a ball peen hammer. Rich got five swats for breaking wind in church and the additional penalty of sitting on the malevolent chair with his sore butt for two hours, but WOW was it loud. Richie always claimed it was worth getting the five swats to create such a masterful example of fartmanship.

Mr. Powers always sounded like he had root beer bubbles in his voice. He was a good speaker, but the root beer bubbles never went away. He was really hitting his stride: "DO YOU WANT TO GO TO THE PLACE OF SAFETY? THEN YOU MUST REPENT AND SUPPORT GOD'S WORK. THOSE WHO DO NOT GO TO THE PLACE OF SAFETY WILL SURELY DIE WHEN SATAN AND THE ANTI-CHRIST REIGN DOWN THEIR SEVEN YEARS OF TERROR--THERE WILL BE FAMINE, WARS, PESTILENCE AND A WORLD WIDE HOLOCAUST FOR THOSE WILL NOT PROSTRATE AT THE FEET OF SATAN AND SWEAR ALLEGIANCE. MY PATH IS ALREADY SET (predestination?), I WILL ASSUREDLY DIE IN JERUSALEM JUST AS REVELATIONS PROPHESIES, BUT I WILL BE RESURRECTED WHEN JESUS RULES THE KINGDOM OF GOD FOR 1000 YEARS OF PEACE. WE WILL BECOME GODS-- WE WILL RULE OVER THOSE WHO MOCK US NOW. THEY WILL BE OUR SERVANTS, AND WE "THE CHOSEN ONES", WILL RULE AT THE RIGHT HAND OF JESUS!!

Just then, Powers slammed his hand on the podium and actually woke a few people up. However, Mom suddenly stiffened and a deep guttural growl came from within her. She then stiffened even more and then flung herself on Dad's shoes. She then kicked and literally screamed as if she was in extreme pain while one of her feet kicked Cole in the head causing her to open her eyes and started crying. Dad did his best to subdue Mom and several helped carry her to the back of the auditorium to the bathroom area. I was very frightened, but at the same time embarrassed by her disruption of the services. Richie's mom, Aunt Nancy, helped Cole and I get to the area where Dad was cradling Mom's head in his lap as a minister prayed over her. I now know Mom was having an epileptic grand Mal seizure, after which Mom had a period of time where she rambled in very disjointed sentences, spoke to people that were not present, and many times she would digress to a point where she acted as if she were in school or she was sixth or seventh grade. There were many anti-seizure medications, but Mom would not take them because she new God would heal her.

The more stress Mom was under the more seizures she had. When she went to college, where she met Dad, she had some extremely bad gran Mal seizures. Word quickly spread that Mom was possessed. Her room-mate swore she saw their toothbrushes floating in mid air. It was all rumor, in some circles she was ignored. Looking back what frustrates the Hell out of me is a few simple pills would have stopped or lessened her malady. But, that is now, back then the ministers knew all. Some praying, a couple drops of olive oil, and Mom was better. HORSE FECES, there were many times Mom would have a spell in the middle of night and scare the Hell out of Cole, but, most mornings she would wake kind of normal. And I assure you no minister and his olive oil anointed Mom.

Was this my first inkling of the predestination heresy--it probably was. No anointing or laying on of hands made Mom's seizures stop. There was a point in the late 1950's when Mom took the medicine and it greatly reduce her spells. Yet, when she arrived at the College of the Brethren, she was strongly admonished about the drugs as God will heal anything that was causing her problems. It turned out to be unadulterated pig sheist. Even when I was five I knew God was very selective in his miracles. I fervently prayed for a TV to pop up on my wall so I would not be so bored while napping--it did not happen. Maybe I did not pray hard enough, but I fervently wanted the TV. Why did God not answer me?

Now Mom was starting to come out of her spell, but was still really incoherent, talking gibberish and such. And that is when I had the overwhelming and instant need to vomit in a monumental fashion. This was not the type of vomit that one could swallow if to embarrassed to vomit in public. My vomit in the next second was going to be projectile and vile vomit. I had no time to make it to the bathroom so I turned and let loose a torrent of incredible volume for one my size. Was this vomiting a sign of my family's predestination. Being ostracized by friends for going to Church on Saturday and not being able to celebrate Christmas or Halloween (after Dad was fired from the college and we moved from the only home I ever knew)--or was it the banning of lay brethren from dating College Brethren-- or was it the missing out on athletic Scholarships because I could not compete on Saturdays. Maybe, it was the minister whom drove me to the church National Track meet that wanted to strip naked each night and give each other massages. Perhaps, it was the ban on the Church's college girls--yet the vomit continued on its own volition. I could not stop it--it was as if I was taking penance for my future trials. The drinking on the Holy Day's when I was 16, the premarital sex (as much and as often as possible). It may have been my later conviction that the Church was a bunch of crap and the whole lot of the Brethren could bugger off. Maybe by taking that position God turned his back on me, but as time went on I realized that Gehenna was not coming and I was doing just fine thank you.

As the vomit started to reduce I realized I had vomited of one of the ministers stylish white shoes and a matching belt that gave him the conservative "mod" look. The minister looked at me with righteous disgust and took a handkerchief out to wipe his shoes. He then said between clenched teeth, "You little bastard have you ever heard of using a bathroom--go get me some paper towels to wipe this mess up." Unfortunately for the the white-shooed minister I had just enough bile left in my stomach to stain his stylish paisley tie with a rather garish yellow-green muck of indelible puke that could never be removed from the vain minister's tie. Richie later said that was twice as good as his masterful percussionist fart.

I did not know what a "little bastard" was, but the fashion in which it was spoken to me made me understand that one should shy away from being a "little bastard". I was doing the walk of shame since I had just puked on a rather important member of the Church. That was when I began to believe in predestination--It looked as Mom and I would miss out on the place of safety, her being "demon possessed" and I being a little bastard. There was still time though, it was only 1968, maybe I could do something about being a little bastard. In the end, 1972 came and passed and know body went to The Place of Safety, or the following year and the year after that. In fact the prophesied Tribulation never came.

I soon learned what a little bastard was and I was certainly not one. But, there were months where I could not sleep, because of my fear of being left behind.

Now I look back at those days with a little amusement. There were deacons and ministers that one could liken to Hitler's SS. They were there to guard the Church and the "Truth". Now, the Church has splintered as if one hit a china dish with a 16 lb mallet. I wonder how the ruling class of the Church of old was handling not being an important fish in relatively good sized pond. Now, nobody gave a crap if they were deacons or elders. Most of the splinter groups were just trying to put back a gospel that all could live with and the uber-deacons and elders had to check their enormous hats and egos at the door.

I'm still not sure about predestination--the flashing insights I had into my future life did seem to have some merit, but was it because I had been indoctrinated into the church or did I have a guttural mystical experience. I am not sure, and guess it does not matter as much as a warm bucket of spit. I do know what Hell is like and Hell on earth was the manipulation, mistreatment and malfeasance of the brethren of the "Kingdom of God". I got out when I was 18, but still have dreams of having to hurry so we could go to The Place of Safety. What of those that came to the realization that they had been fed forty years millenial mendacities.

The "Church" no longer exists in the unified form as it did in the 1960's. The vain minister I puked on was found dead in a closet in what seemed to be an act of self-sexual aphixisation. Both the Powers are dead. They had a sad and meaningless power struggle over who would be the head of the church--which was non-existent two years later. The minister that molested me is still preaching somewhere--I guess God forgives those that really repent, but who knows we waited for the end of the world and it never happened, so maybe he is still into naked full body rub downs with sixteen years old boys.

In the end, I guess none of this means much when/if we meet our Creator. I do know being a slave to predestination turns one into a meek, malliable, automotons. And if one is an automoton predestination may exist. I choose the road that the carrion eating, billboard, TV Sunday self-promoters do not take--that of extorting as much money and ego from their flock. There is a God and I visit him every time I go for a long bike ride or run, or just having a quiet moment with my daughter--unconditional love, the supernatural, celestial love only a deity can bestow upon a person. The clarity and euphoria after these sessions no man can create or cause to be created. Sorry Jim Bakker you cannot give me these moments of peace, satisfaction, and true belief in God. Besides, I can sing to myself while I am running without a soul knowing it. I lived through the Tribulation, the potential end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine).

The Real Zen Year in Review

Now.

The Zen Year in Review 2

The existential comedian side of me wanted to post the title "The Zen Year in Review" and then have no actual texts since Zen is about being in the moment the Zen year in Review would essentially be the moment you wrote "The Zen Year in Review", and as you can see by this long run on sentence it would be a joke that few would get and if it takes this much explanation to describe the humor it probably is not that funny. But damn, it really is clever for any twisted existentials with a Zen leaning that find self-apparent ironies prettied up with post-graduate terminology. As many of you know from my investigative work on the death of Gonzo journalists and my own creation of a new literary style, I will experiment, but more often than usual my self-acclaimed movement of post-modern Neo Gonzoism creations are the lack of understanding proper grammar, but in this case I think there is some actual content or "content" or meaning or "self-validation" of this spewing of words in the context of the Zen year in review. James Joyce actually used this style but in a more literary and literal style. I am using it as a form of Zen meditiation a stream of consciousness, that really is going through my head. Actually, I think that is what Joyce was doing with Finnegans Wake or the other one I did not understand. But my is more important at this moment because it is happening in this moment and it was James Joyce that started this moment in the universe in motion with his works, but I am less literary in the traditional sense with the insertion of my real life, or my literary real life, which could be different from my literal life, literally. So in a sense this is a confluence of Literary Giants such as James Joyce, Hunter S. Thompson, Lester Bangs and Alfred E Neuman. You know you are getting close to the inner Buddha when it gets easier to let the thought or "noise" of your ego blow through your mind, as in the above. But then there are the times when all ego noise and thoughts are quiet. Photographers call it the "Golden Minutes"-- the sun and clouds and shadows and well the universe align and there is this ethereal golden glow that makes the film or shots almost other worldly-- those shots, pictures or portions of film let me fill a little closer to the inner Buddha, or soul, or God, or Holy Guardian Angel, or Grand Architect of the Universe, or the mouse that ate the cheese. But, the Zen golden moment accomplishes the same thing sometimes on a grander scale because there is a point where..............................................................................................................................................................................................,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,., a fleeting moment when one does realize that all is one and we are just a minute mote in the moment and that is the whole universe at that moment. Then you get up and walk your dog, pick up the paper and mail the check for the water bill and just when you feel the golden moment of the inner buddha slipping behind the mundaneness of the ego world, you step in a pile of labrador crap from the guys dog across the street and you are back in the moment the now, all is sorrow, but that realization is what makes "the now" possible--be able to laugh, it is a universal truth that there will always be change, so the sorrow in the now is fleeting because all is changing and also you wipe the labrador crap off your foot with his newspaper. All is sorrow and laughing is what sorrow requires and as one Holy Yogi said, "If God did not have a sense of humor why would he when designing us put the recreational area so close to the toxic dump." The ego world seems to be returning and I am starting to have an overriding need to start another paragraph so this meditation is done, V out.

Marketing Religion

I live in a community where the Evangelists, ministers, preacher and others of the sacerdotal calling are compelled to have TV commercials and billboards. It seems that recruiting is more important than saving souls for their church to function.

This got me to thinking who does the best job of marketing their religion. I think the Buddhist do a great job as they teach all is sorrow until one gains enlightenment. So when you have a good day you think," Hey this Buddhist thing is not all bad." The Buddhist are savvy as they set the bar low in the temporal world--so when something remotely pleasant happens all Buddhists can rejoice.

Hinduism is one I cannot figure out. They seem to be seeking the same enlightenment as the Buddhists, but do it in a very different manner. They have all these different gods that they are to pray and worship to cure various elements and bad spirits. Hinduism is much like the Walgreens of religion, as they can fix what ails you and there is always one right around the corner. This is similar to what the Catholics do with their Saints.

It would be easy to throw Catholics and Protestants into the same bowl so for brevity I will. Where I think Christians go wrong is their continuous exclamations of the Kingdom of God being restored on earth. I was part of a cult that believed that for the most part the beginning of the end of the world would start in 1972. Most of the Sermons would be something like this:

That's great it starts with an earthquake. Birds and snakes and aeroplanes Lenny Bruce is not afraid. Eye of a hurricane listen to yourself churn. World serves its own needs dummy serve your own needs. Speed it up a notch speed grunt nose street burn. The ladder starts to clatter with dinner fight down height. Wire in a fire room represent the southern gangs. In a government for hire and a combat site. Lefty wasn't coming in a hurry.With the furies breathing down your neck. Team by team reporters grapple trunk tethered crop. Look at that low plane fine then. Uh oh overflow population cornered. But it'll do save yourself serve yourself. World serves its own needs listen to your heartbeat.Tell me that the reds are in the reverend in the right right? You patriotic patriotic slam fight right might feeling pretty psyched.

Needless to say the severe tones of these sermons toned down after 1972. But, besides the pre-mellinal view of Christianity--they just oversell it. You will pass on and be greeted by your family and loved ones and there is an unlimited supply of HoHoes since Angelic beings do not gain weight. This is just a bit of oversell, plus the only person who returned from heaven did not have it turn out quite so well, and while we are on that point, what was the Son of God doing with a Mexican name.

The biggest marketing quandary of the major religions is that of Islam. It is termed the Religion of Peace, but with the suicide bombing they are killing of their client base.

Maybe, religious marketing is not a point one should dwell upon. However, Jesus and his apostles did a lot of marketing. Buddhas' message spread throughout the Asia, there had to be some marketing involved to make this happen. I don't know how the Hindus did it if they did, but it is still around so their customer retention is laudable. It is the Muslims that have me in a quandary, they are rabid in their beliefs but willing to die and kill the infidel in the name of Allah. This is so they can primarily go to paradise for their 72 virgins. I think it is now time to do a statistical study on the deaths of Muslim virgins compared to Muslim martyrs. I have a feeling a few of those "virgins" are getting passed around a couple of times--just my opinion.

In Ahlahaha We Trust

When the Plymouth Brethren came to America they just wanted to be left the Frig alone. They had their way of worshiping and that is how they wanted to do it. This sentiment made it into the founding doctrines of our country. The most misunderstood is the separation of church and state. It is now believed that anything having to do with religion in public schools, governmental buildings our state colleges cannot be tolerated.



This view of the separation of church and state is complete crap and for the final time I will tell you why. In Europe and England there were state mandated religions, so in our new republic the founding fathers set up a barrier to inhibit government mandating a certain religion. Mainly, they were concerned with Catholicism, Calvinism or Lutheranism being mandated. Many of the founding fathers were Deists so in the technical sense not even Christian, but they were well aware of what could happen if the titular head of the government was also the grand poohbah of the state mandated religion. They had 1700 years of history to bear out the holocaust that could occur.



Now we are facing a religious holocaust brought on by those who want to be tolerant of a religion that has sects that are extremely intolerant. It is now in vogue to celebrate Ramadan in our public schools as an exercise in world culture and tolerance. This pig scheist is in direct contradiction of the incorrect version of the separation of church and state. If the incorrect version of the separation of church and state is to be enforced, Ramadan, nor other Islamic teachings should be allowed to be discussed in public schools. Why this is happening may be because of the perceived backlash of anti-Arabic/Muslim sentiments after 9/11. Nonetheless, the rule of law must be upheld, even if it is incorrectly enforced.

A more enlightened and multicultural approach would to spend two semesters on all world religions, INCLUDING CHRISTIANITY! As a student of comparative religions I have found that while the mythos may differ, most of the precepts of law and treatment of mankind are very similar. Even many of the martyrs of the Christos' are strikingly similar. Witness the crucifixion of Krishna from Hindu fame and that of Jesus Christ. While separated by thousands of years the allegory of the sacrifice of one for the providence of the many resonates today. Witness, the Hari Krishna's mobbing one at the airport and the Jehovah Witnesses mobbing one at ones house.

If we are not going to enforce the separation of church and state as originally intended can we at least do away with the religious bigotry of the educational politicos. More importantly, besides the tolerance one would learn from the study of world religions, perhaps many of our children would find peace and enlightenment in a particular religion. This may result in a reduction of drug abuse, abortions, teen violence and the basic ennui of most teens of generations of all ages.

This essay was not to be meant as a slam on Islam, at least the peaceful adherents of Islam, but rather the closed minded school administrators whose idea of thinking out of the box is trying on the new pair of Nike Shox.

US GAS Rolls On

Response Editorial by: Fred Rancid

I am upset and perturbed by Wyndham-Price's response to my proposal to the USOC, since it has not been formally proposed for competitive flatulence to be included in the Olympic Games. I do feel betrayed or should I say back stabbed, but if I would have been more prepared for a flatulent outburst I doubt that Wyndham-Price's stooge could have ever leaked my plan.

Yes, I think the United States could have supremacy in competitive flatulence, but not because we are the United States, but because we are a nation of immigrants made up of many habits, diets, and flatulent capacities. Simply, farting is not expelling stinky gas with a bit of musical chamber, but, more of an art where one must expel, insinuate and inspire in one act of intestinal and rectal art.

If competitive flatulence is allowed into the Olympics only for volume of timber, or quality of stench then competitive flatulence is not worth being an art of the Olympics. Competitive Flatulence is more about wine tasting and competitive gymnastics. Imagine Nadia Comenici doing a perfect dismount while urinating a "1967 Cote de Beaunne-Villages" in a shot glass while not dropping a spot outside the dismount area.

It is not about blowing wind, or letting fly with massive stench; it is about letting the eternal wind loose while one honors the flavors, scents and manifestations of Gaiea. My vision of competitive flatulence is beauty, while I fear the world's is destructive bombardment. If that is the case, the world is not ready, nor sophisticated enough to handle true appreciation of the flatulent art.

Competitive Flatulence in the Olympics

Special Editorial from Garth Wyndham-Price

I have heard from the centre of "As Above so Below" that there is a movement to include competitive flatulence in the Olympics. It is my understanding that Fred Rancid is the main colour bearer of this movement. It is understandable that the United States would look for another sport in which they could prevail.

Most in the free world will not dispute that the 1972 U.S. Olympic basketball team received the green weenie in the Gold medal match. However, Mr. Rancid and the USOC, especially should tread carefully when they think they can dominate the world Farting Competition. Witness only the Eastern bloc Europeans whose sole diet is sauerkraut and blood sausage of Pygmy donkeys. Flatulence in these countries is not an interesting pastime, but a biological need of survival. Gats man, have you ever tried to pass a pygmy donkey hove.

Likewise, it is my perception that Mr. Rancid has forgotten his friends to the south. Oh yes, there are the Mexicans who mainly live on rice and beans, but that is Holy Water compared to the Haitians whose main diet is lava rocks and beaks of sacrificed voodoo chickens. Let us not forget the Jamaicans, their diet is quite healthful, but their consumption of ganja and magic mushrooms allows them to mystically expel the pent up frustrations of their ancestors.

I am an Anglophile, I believe our Scottish friends could compete. Lord knows the Irish would blow the perfect storm just to piss in the Queens face, but do we-- the UK and the US have the talent to overcome those that are forced, by their natural surroundings, have the ability to overcome that with our training and nutritional supplementation. I think not.

Universally Undeniable Facts

1. While Eric Clapton may be the greatest living rock guitarist Duane Allman was already there at age 25.

2. The 1993 Dallas Cowboys were, are and will be the most dominant football team ever.

3. If Hillary Clinton walked a mile in polyester pants her thighs would start a devastating forest fire.

4. Sometimes, the perfect fajita marinade and the coldest of beer are better then sex.

5. #4 is rarely true but when it is it is orgasmic

6. Blind Faith is human stupidity

7. The first minute of GNR Sweet Child o Mine may be the most gripping rock ever.

8. The world did not end in 1972

9. Humans are NOT abducted by aliens. However, your sweat socks are.

10. Justin Timberlake--OVERRATED

11. At this point in time in the United States, your vote does not really count. It may technically tally up towards your candidate, but given the choices we have to vote for it is essentially one in the same.

12. #11 just pissed of a lot of patriots, but please refer to Garth Wyndham-Price's cooperative anarchy.

13. The Holy Bible is not entirely Holy nor is it the Gospel as in good news. Just read St. Johns bad mushroom trip in Revelations and you tell me that is good news.

14. The world did not end in 1976

15. G. W. Bush is not as smart as he appears.

16. Competitive farting should be allowed in the Olympics-for God's sake we let synchronized swimming in.

17. Bill Clinton is wanker with a curve

18. Some say Larry King is overrated, but for a 4 year old corpse his work is commendable.

19. The funniest guy on late night talk is the Scottish guy--give the bloke a Guinness and hagas

20. If Jesus was Hebrew why did he have a Mexican name? Huh, makes you think...

The Wonder Bread of Southern Rock

Guest Columnist Cameron S. Thompson

Lynyrd Skinyrd's Southern anthem "Freebird" is perhaps the most popular song of Southern Rock fans. However, it has suffered the same demise as Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven". It is interesting that fantastic songs can lose their luster by over exposure.

In the 1980's invariably there were several drunk pseudo-cowboys screaming "Freebird" at last call. Many bands complied and that was the beginning of the downward spiral of the Wonder Bread of Southern Rock. The Allman Brothers band may have a valid argument about that one moment when Southern Rock reached the pinnacle of Rock Stardom.

However, "Freebird" came at the right moment and the three hour solo at the end of the song did not hurt fan the fervor at concerts. But, then "Freebird" became trite. Cover bands used it for their closing set, movies used it to depict anything from entering the deep south to reminiscing the '70's. But as all trite things they soon run their course and vanish into the Kingdom of Triteness.

"Freebird" has had a recent resurrection used in an emotionally inspiring way that brings back the great memories that "Freebird" once evoked. "Freebird" was used in Forest Gump when his long time love, Jenny, coked out, is on the ledge contemplating suicide. The song has even made it into pop-culture iconic status as the Simpsons. Perhaps, the most amusing and moving use of "Freebird" is in Cameron Crowe's movie "Elizabethtown". The Skynird version is not even used, but the passion and humor is moving to any lover of the song.

But, for God's sake please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please quit shouting "Freebird" at last call at a local club. The original reason to shout "Freebird" was prompted by a DJ who thought it would be funny to do so at a Florence Henderson concert--I agree that is hilarious, but any other use of the shout should result in the immediate removal of the taint meat of said shouter.

How to be a car salesperson

Approach the customer and warmly greet them and then use terminology similar to this: " Yeah, rebate--coefficient of drag, horsepower, zero percent, ABS, JD Powers--safety ratings-- airbags, talk to my manager, special price, zero to 70, do you a favor, test drive, leg room, engine, 38 cubit feet, horsepower, see my business manager, color selection, Motor Trend, side curtain Car and Driver, alpine air filled air bags, gas mileage, great trade in, Motor Trend, .39 coefficient of drag, dual exhaust safety horn, safety crumple zone seat warmers, all wheel drive air conditioner, can I earn your business today?


Works every time. Oh if they do try to leave, throw their trade in keys on the roof.

lol ;)--hey don't pee in me Tea or I'll give you one in shcnauz

Both of you that read my blog know that I have a habit of getting wordy. I think my biggest issue may be the quasi-synthetic flavors I give the Ionic rythms of my rhetoric blah abalablahbllahll.

Briefly, by brief I mean under 3,000 words, I am concerned about what You Tube and sites like it are doing to our written means of communication. OK, I know there is not a soul that is looking for perfect grammar on these boards, but should one get slammed for putting 3 sentences together? I gave a brief editorial on why I thought Freebird was the peak of Southern Rock anthems and was slammed for my thoughts. I did not think it was that cerebral nor did I feel I was writing down to the audience, but slammed I was.

I should be fair, I made some editorial comments on the "Infinite Godness" of Guns and Roses, and got some thumbs up. I am on the cusp of being a baby boomer and Gen Xer, but love bands like Sum41 and Mest, but think it's OK to give a 3 line written comment without being called mr. Smartypants...and by the way sir it is Lord Smarty, Third Duchee of Pants, and Protectorate of the Royal Garter.

Good Day Sir and for my Gen Yers that means "tsup Vfly owt".

As a post script, todays article was to be entitled "Only Virgins Need Apply". Please drop me a line and let me know if my choice was correct.

Vick Goes Down, Pro Choice, Pro Life and Lesbos Unite

So Michael Vick goes down. He is now admitting his savagery of breeding and fighting pit-bulls. So all enlightened can feel happy, self-righteous and pat each other on the back. State will now pass bills that will make it illegal or even more illegal (can something be more illegal--see undocumented workers versus illegal aliens). Mark one for the good guys these sweet lovable animals will now be raised to become family dogs rather than dogs that can bring a bull down, for which they were bred.

No longer will there be carcasses thrown aside because they are no longer needed by the owner. This will no longer happen to pit-bulls, but viable humans will be partially delivered and their brains will be sucked out of their heads and its carcass is thrown aside. How enlightened do you feel now?

Howl and scream all you want about the women's right to choose, but once that women is 8 months old in the womb she should have the same rights. Believe it or not I am not Anti-abortion. There are times they should be done, but since we are all enlightened and we use condoms and birth control their is little need for abortion--right.

I think PETA, GLAAD, and all Pro-Life groups, as well as pro-baby groups, pro-grandparents and pro- Aunts and Uncles should form a coalition to see that third tri-mester babies receive the same right as pit-bulls. After we take the first step of being equal to pit-bulls we can then start a campaign that third trimester babies are people.

I did leave out one special interest group that could also benefit from us not killing babies in the mothers womb, and that is all the straight parents that are unable to have children but would love to nurture one. However, when you can make an alliance with PETA, GLAAD and the NRA you will get some media coverage. I think most in the NRA would support not killing children in their mother's womb. Now that is a coalition PETA, NRA and GLAAD. Just imagine the parade all floats would be powered by hybrid vehicles. The NRA members could have their 12 gauge painted the Gay pride colors and wear leather thongs. Meanwhile, PETA would supply large amounts of carrots for the colorful GLAAD members to throw to the crowd. Keep your calendar open for this one

Krishna, Jesus, JFK, and Barack Obama

Special Guest Editorial by "Dios the Martyr"

There will be many offended by this article but, I hope it will offend all equally. I have penchant for philosophy, esoteric studies, and world religions and have found it strange how these subjects are becoming increasingly similar to modern politics. This is not a new phenomenon, but during the Crusades religion was your politics and philosophy.

In more modern times Hitler amalgamated all of these components to take a Germanic people with a suffering economy, and still hurting from WWl to unite in this strange uber-cult of racial purity and the need for world domination so the pure Arians could begin the 1000 year reich. There is much speculation that Hitler was part of the Thule Society, an esoteric and some say Satanic organization. The point is mute as Hitler's plan whether Satanic or otherwise damn near worked.

What is interesting about all demi-gods, gods incarnate, or charismatic politicians is they are looked upon as Saviours. Another interesting thing about these so called "Saviours" is there seems to be a repetition in history or a mythos that raises them to a quasi-deity status. Their demise, or rather the story of their demise puts them in a pantheon of a select few.

I will not bore you with the story of Krishna. It is very ancient and its veracity could be questioned, but he was sacrificed on a cross and became a god. This occurred at least 1000 years before Jesus Christ suffered the same demise. Now was the Christ mythos used to spring-board Christianity from a small Jewish cult to a new religion which may eventually lead to power and dare we say it riches. Let us first examine what the political and cultural atmosphere was during the life of Jesus.

Until the discovery of the Dead Sea Scroll and the Qumranian texts, most of what we had to base the life of Jesus on was the Holy Gospel and some historians vague writings 100 years after the crucifixion. However, we now have learned that Jesus was part of the Qumarnian society, what would now be considered something similar to a monastery. Some say the society at Qumran was in fact the Essenes, but lets leave that discussion for another day as there is something much more factual and interesting concerning what appears in our bibles.

Several time Jesus was referred to as Jesus of Nazareth. Scholars have combed through the detailed Roman records of 30AD and there is no record of a town called Nazareth. So why was Jesus tagged with this moniker? Jesus was a Nazarite or more correctly a Nasorean, a holy man that kept very strict cleanliness laws. Another interesting dichotomy is the use of the word Messiah. In our modern English Messiah means a saviour that is sent from Heaven to save the world from the edge of destruction. However, to the Jews of two millenniums ago messiah meant a leader that would lead them from subjugation of the Romans, Babylonians, Hittites, etc. Was Jesus considered a Messiah--yes. He was a holy man that was intent on rallying the Jews to accept the Testament that was passed down from Jehovah to Moses and through the line of David.

In light of these new discoveries many Christians may go ballistic at the thought that Jesus was not the Son of God, the Holy Spirit and God. My purpose of this essay is not to demean Jesus or Christians, but to perhaps the veracity of the early church fathers who seemed to look at the Christ mythos of Krishna, Adonis, Mithra and many other "deities" that preceded Jesus. In point of fact, setting aside the matter of Jesus' divineness his teachings that are being extracted from the new found scrolls are thousands of years ahead of his time. He taught that all humans had the right of citizenship, yes including women. He believed that if mankind lead a pious life and the leaders acted in an ethical manner there would be a balance and peace that would be very similar to what many Christians will be established with the second coming of Jesus. Divinity or not this was a brilliant man and we should strive to establish his teachings, just as the founding fathers and many others have fought for.

So what does this rather esoteric history lesson have to do with American politics of the last fifty years? John F. Kennedy was a charismatic leader that was witty, attractive and showed leadership. He was also a philanderer and would pursue victory no matter the cost. Simply, he was human he had many excellent talents but had some faults also. Kennedy's presidency was not particularly outstanding, but he did avert the Cuban missile crisis and passed a Reaganesque tax cut (I know that is heresy to many of our left leaning partisans). Yet, Kennedy is thought of as one of our most inspiring Presidents--why?

Most of the credit should go to Jackie Kennedy--she instituted a Christ mythos, Camelot. King Arthur another mythical Christ like figure who had many years of peace and prosperity. Another, astute action by Mrs. Kennedy was mimicking the funeral of Abraham Lincoln. This subconsciously linked JFK with another great President that was lost too early. Again, a Christ mythos from the past elevates a person to the pantheon of the superior humans in history.

Barack Obama has many of the talents that JFK had. Will he become President? Who knows, but my fear is if he becomes President will we have another candidate for entry into the pantheon of the Christ mythos. While the radical race-haters have diminished in numbers, their intensity of hate has grown. I, like many, fear that Mr. Obama would not survive his first term.

Which brings us back to the teachings of Jesus. A people that live a righteous life in partnership with an ethical and non-self serving government could have a form of heaven on earth. That does not seem probable in the near future. My hope is their really is a Saviour in the pantheon of the Christ Mythos that will intervene. For now our politicians make the Sanhedrins look like the Red Cross. God have mercy on our souls.

Note from Victor: This is some pretty volatile stuff that "Dios the Martyr" has written so I welcome all guest editorials that are well thought out and not demeaning or just rants about fire and brimstone.

The Question of National Pride

As the only state or republic that can fly its flag at the same level as the American flag, I am troubled by the recent capitulation of Oregon to the Republic of Mexico. When Texas fought for its independence from Mexico, it was not just white Anglo-Saxon settlers that joined in the battle. A quick visit to the sacred shrine of the Alamo proves that there were numerous heroes of Latin descent that fought the despot Santa Anna (not the legendary guitar shredder, Santana, but the General of the Mexican Army).

While Spanish was spoken by most Texican settlers, no Texan patriots felt the need to fly the Mexican flag over their captured territory. One wonders why Oregon is compelled to escalate the Mexican flag over the sovereign American flag of the republic to which they belong; especially, when this stature in flag position is based on the simple fact that some people at the Oregon Employment Department speak Spanish.

The fact that they are flying the Mexican flag is extremely insensitive and in fact racist. While Guatemalans, El Salvadorans, Panamanians and Hondurans have a similar racial composition, a mixture of Spanish conquistadores and native tribes they have neither pride nor interest in seeing the Mexican flag elevated over the Stars and Stripes. Moreover, if one insinuated that a Cuban, Dominican or Puerto Rican was Mexican or had any interest in La Raza would probably receive an insult in the most rapid Spanish spoken on the planet; damn they can speak Spanish fast. Finally, if one has a death wish call a Spaniard a Mexican, it would be safer to do the running of the bulls blindfolded with a gallon of sangria in ones stomach. The Spanish language does not equate to Mexican heritage.

To assist the Oregon Employment Department in a lesson in American sovereignty and multi-culturalism a contingent of Texans; White, Hispanic, Black and Vietnamese are prepared to descend upon the Department in question and enforce the United States Code, Title 36, Chapter 10. This action by Jean Work is arrogant and an insult to all Americans and all Latinos not of Mexican heritage. Ms. Work I suggest you remember the Alamo, Guadal Canal, Iwa Jima and the soldiers in Iraq. See you in a couple weeks when we lower the Mexican Flag and raise that of the Lone Star State. Maybe that will shock you into some sense of sanity or reasonableness.

Recordar el Alamo! Recordar Goliad!


James Austin Bonham

Queen- Somebody to Love

If nothing else do this