The coffee shop.
“So,” Adam said, “what did you dig up?”
“It’s a gentlemen’s club,” Thomas answered.
“In the woods,” Adam stated.
“Basically,” Thomas continued, “it’s a place where old farts, like CEOs and politicians and such go to let their hair down and tell dick jokes.”
“Yeah, that’s just what Marsh said.”
“And there’s entertainment. Female impersonators, drag karaoke, spin the bottle. Richard Nixon called it … what were his exact words? … ‘the faggiest goddamn thing he’d ever seen.’ Women weren’t allowed on the grounds, because, according to the club charter, ‘their presence taints the sacred earth on which the club stands.’ Although that’s been lifted recently to allow female employees in limited roles. You know, to avoid litigation and scandal. A lot of oil tycoons, and bigwigs from the entertainment industry are regular guests. And did you know,” Thomas voice grew to a confidential tone, as he leaned in, “nearly every president to be elected in the last sixty or seventy years has been to the bonfire of conscience ceremony on the eve of his election. Apparently to be schooled up by the old guard. So, still thinking about going?”
“Yes,” Adam answered, without hesitation, “I don’t know why or even how, but he’s behind it. All of it. The accident. The chip we know for sure was his work. I have to find out what it’s all about.”
“I still can’t believe you know Henry Falconer personally.”
Thomas’ last remark brought with it a few glances from the neighboring tables, and with the glances, stares, nods and elbow nudges.
“Me neither. I wish I didn’t. He gives me the creeps. Must be the way he’s always smiling and moving his head, looking one way, looking the other way, always smiling and giggling. Like he knows something. Everything.”
“Probably does.”
“Right. He probably does know everything. Gives me the creeps.”
“Guy probably knows who hit you.”
“Guy like that probably knows who killed Kennedy.”
“Come on, everybody knows. It was George Bush Sr., right?”
Adam shook his head, looking out the window.
“Oh,” Thomas continued, “but he was only in charge of the shooters.”
“I mean,” Adam said, “could he have orchestrated the whole thing?”
“Maybe in the beginning. Everything up until you left the hospital.”
Adam bit his thumb nail, thoughtfully.
“Why,” Thomas asked, “right? Why you?”
Adam breezed a glance at Thomas with his thumb nail still locked between his teeth. It was a question he couldn’t face up to.
***
“This,” Marsh said, from the computer chair, “is the annual bonfire of conscience ceremony.”
Marsh maximized the youtube video and it went to full screen. The picture was dark, shot at night. The resolution was terrible. It was obviously shot from some kind of small, handheld digital camera, most likely one found on a cell phone. After a moment the picture settled down and Adam and his houseguests were able to clearly make out what they were looking at.
From across a small man-made lake or pond, six dark robed figures chanted, carrying a wooden effigy.
“You see,” Marsh said, turning in his chair to face everyone, “the effigy represents the conscience of the men in the ceremony.”
On the screen the effigy was marched to a bonfire and set down in front of it. A seventh dark robed man stood at a podium and began conducting the ceremony. A deep, almost God-like voice boomed from an unseen sound system, rumbling the small computer speakers.
“These men,” Marsh continued, “I could tell you who each of them are, but I’ve got no proof so I won’t even bother. But, I’ll just say that I’m sure everybody in this room is very familiar with each of them. The man at the podium is someone who you might recognize from the evening news. Anyway, these are leaders and future leaders of this country in this satanic ritual, prancing around in their satanic robes. They feel, it is their duty, as leaders, to burn the effigy of conscience so that they can go about their business blamelessly for the rest of the year. It’s like a satanic businessman’s way of going to confession.”
Leah leaned into Adam’s line of sight and pointed with her thumb to the still-playing video and said, “This? You‘re doing this?”
On the computer monitor the six robed figures carefully laid the effigy of conscience onto the flaming pyre. Within seconds, the thin, wooden man was consumed, illuminating a rocky twenty foot tall moss-covered statue of an owl in the background.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
23
PART 2
Adam sat cross-legged, watching the sunrise. The lightest brushstroke of contentment painted his face. Orange and purple never blended so well.
Time passed, passes and flows onward, only … which way. Adam couldn’t decide. Was time a river which ran backwards, and man the stagnant vessel through which it was viewed, something eternal and essential without which time itself couldn‘t exist? Or did time flow forward, with man riding atop it like a wave, caught up in it, flipping end over end, with no control?
For the time being, neither view suited him perfectly.
“I’ve lost my innocence,” he said, “I’m confused by opposing views. I can’t decide which door to walk through.”
“You are a man apart,” Leah said, eyes half open. Or half closed, Adam couldn’t decide. “You can do things, and see things no one else can. You must be lonely.”
“No,” he said, “not anymore. I’ve lost it. I’ve been cut off from eternity.”
He no longer communicated with the infinite. He was a man possessed of basic senses. Five devils through which the world entered and his spirit escaped. He knew that the world had gotten inside of him, like a disease and rioted. He was no longer whole, pure.
“You never used to talk like that,” she said, “what’s gotten into you?”
He got up from the damp, grassy hill, slowly, wiped the dew from his butt, and said,
“Devils.”
***
He turned the invitation in his hand, end over end and read it once again.
Your presence has been requested by Henry Falconer, to attend the bonfire of conscience at Philistinian Forest Resort and Vacation Retreat for the final weekend of July, this year. Please RSVP ASAP.
He studied it, viewed it from every angle, and placed it down gently on the table. He couldn’t make up his mind about going. His first instinct was to ignore it and not attend, but curiosity tugged violently at him. Curiosity and the slight buzzy nag of obligation. Falconer had paid his rent for the month, with the promise of continued financial assistance for the foreseeable future. Why didn’t seem as important as how. How the arrangement could have been made with his landlord without his knowing about it, or sensing it, but it was done. Strangely, Adam hadn’t seen this development coming.
Still, why seemed a good question, too.
But, he if couldn’t answer either of those, what was a question he could have answered.
He had his top what man on the job.
Adam sat cross-legged, watching the sunrise. The lightest brushstroke of contentment painted his face. Orange and purple never blended so well.
Time passed, passes and flows onward, only … which way. Adam couldn’t decide. Was time a river which ran backwards, and man the stagnant vessel through which it was viewed, something eternal and essential without which time itself couldn‘t exist? Or did time flow forward, with man riding atop it like a wave, caught up in it, flipping end over end, with no control?
For the time being, neither view suited him perfectly.
“I’ve lost my innocence,” he said, “I’m confused by opposing views. I can’t decide which door to walk through.”
“You are a man apart,” Leah said, eyes half open. Or half closed, Adam couldn’t decide. “You can do things, and see things no one else can. You must be lonely.”
“No,” he said, “not anymore. I’ve lost it. I’ve been cut off from eternity.”
He no longer communicated with the infinite. He was a man possessed of basic senses. Five devils through which the world entered and his spirit escaped. He knew that the world had gotten inside of him, like a disease and rioted. He was no longer whole, pure.
“You never used to talk like that,” she said, “what’s gotten into you?”
He got up from the damp, grassy hill, slowly, wiped the dew from his butt, and said,
“Devils.”
***
He turned the invitation in his hand, end over end and read it once again.
Your presence has been requested by Henry Falconer, to attend the bonfire of conscience at Philistinian Forest Resort and Vacation Retreat for the final weekend of July, this year. Please RSVP ASAP.
He studied it, viewed it from every angle, and placed it down gently on the table. He couldn’t make up his mind about going. His first instinct was to ignore it and not attend, but curiosity tugged violently at him. Curiosity and the slight buzzy nag of obligation. Falconer had paid his rent for the month, with the promise of continued financial assistance for the foreseeable future. Why didn’t seem as important as how. How the arrangement could have been made with his landlord without his knowing about it, or sensing it, but it was done. Strangely, Adam hadn’t seen this development coming.
Still, why seemed a good question, too.
But, he if couldn’t answer either of those, what was a question he could have answered.
He had his top what man on the job.
Monday, August 25, 2008
22
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
There was a pause, then Adam said:
“Can I help you?”
“My name’s Harley Fargas, I’m your neighbor from down the street.”
Adam perked up. He said, “Oh, then you’re quite welcome here, neighbor,” and gestured grandly with his hand for Fargas to enter.
Fragas wiped his feet on the doormat and, once inside, made himself at home.
***
“I’m your basic outsider,” Fargas said, as he sat on the floor, cross-legged. The group in Adam’s home had formed a loose semi-circle, from the layout of the couches in Adam’s living room. He had meant to get rid of those couches.
Attachment to material objects was an open door to suffering.
“I haven’t been around this community too long,” Fargas continued, “longer than you have,” he said to Adam. “But, they’re not going to open their doors and welcome in a stranger, even if he does only live a few houses down.”
“The establishment of strong community identity is essential to survival,” Adam blurted out, almost robotically.
The establishment of strong community identity is essential to survival.
He was collecting phrases and statements to print in a pamphlet or easily digestible book that he could show to people, or hand out in the street (but people never seem to pay attention to fliers in the street, do they?). He’d have to remember the phrase.
The establishment of strong community identity is essential to survival.
The establishment …
“You were missing,” Fargas went on, “for the block party, weren’t you. Yeah, you were still laid up in the hospital, I’ll bet. They probably didn’t even put a flier in your mail slot, did they? Yeah, don’t feel too left out, I didn’t get one either.”
Nine out of ten spiritual leaders agree, Desire is the leading cause of suffering.
“You see, I’ve been all over,” Fargas said, “and all over, people are pretty much the same. They won’t talk to you unless they know you, which is a dilemma, you see?”
“How do you get to know them,” Adam said.
“No, no, no, kid,” Fargas said, “you’re missing the point. You’re missing my main point, here. The thing is, in their minds, it’s how are they going to get to know you? Which, to them, is your responsibility. Understand?”
Adam nodded his head, “yes, I understand,” he said, and turned to Marsh and the twins, “we’ve got to finish this film as fast as we can.”
“I’m glad you’re so eager,” Marsh spoke up.
“I can think of a dilemma, here though,” Eunice said, slightly condescending, “it’s a documentary, it’ll finish when it’s finished. We don’t know when it’ll finish.”
When she was finished, Peter, who sat beside her always, patted her knee, shook his head and whispered something into her ear.
“Then,” Adam said, “we have to get out on your show, get out there on other shows. Spread the message, make the world familiar with me. With us.
“Thank you,” Adam said to Fargas, sincerely, “you have given me something to think about.”
“So,” Fargas said, “what are you, some kind of freaky guru or something?”
“Hi.”
There was a pause, then Adam said:
“Can I help you?”
“My name’s Harley Fargas, I’m your neighbor from down the street.”
Adam perked up. He said, “Oh, then you’re quite welcome here, neighbor,” and gestured grandly with his hand for Fargas to enter.
Fragas wiped his feet on the doormat and, once inside, made himself at home.
***
“I’m your basic outsider,” Fargas said, as he sat on the floor, cross-legged. The group in Adam’s home had formed a loose semi-circle, from the layout of the couches in Adam’s living room. He had meant to get rid of those couches.
Attachment to material objects was an open door to suffering.
“I haven’t been around this community too long,” Fargas continued, “longer than you have,” he said to Adam. “But, they’re not going to open their doors and welcome in a stranger, even if he does only live a few houses down.”
“The establishment of strong community identity is essential to survival,” Adam blurted out, almost robotically.
The establishment of strong community identity is essential to survival.
He was collecting phrases and statements to print in a pamphlet or easily digestible book that he could show to people, or hand out in the street (but people never seem to pay attention to fliers in the street, do they?). He’d have to remember the phrase.
The establishment of strong community identity is essential to survival.
The establishment …
“You were missing,” Fargas went on, “for the block party, weren’t you. Yeah, you were still laid up in the hospital, I’ll bet. They probably didn’t even put a flier in your mail slot, did they? Yeah, don’t feel too left out, I didn’t get one either.”
Nine out of ten spiritual leaders agree, Desire is the leading cause of suffering.
“You see, I’ve been all over,” Fargas said, “and all over, people are pretty much the same. They won’t talk to you unless they know you, which is a dilemma, you see?”
“How do you get to know them,” Adam said.
“No, no, no, kid,” Fargas said, “you’re missing the point. You’re missing my main point, here. The thing is, in their minds, it’s how are they going to get to know you? Which, to them, is your responsibility. Understand?”
Adam nodded his head, “yes, I understand,” he said, and turned to Marsh and the twins, “we’ve got to finish this film as fast as we can.”
“I’m glad you’re so eager,” Marsh spoke up.
“I can think of a dilemma, here though,” Eunice said, slightly condescending, “it’s a documentary, it’ll finish when it’s finished. We don’t know when it’ll finish.”
When she was finished, Peter, who sat beside her always, patted her knee, shook his head and whispered something into her ear.
“Then,” Adam said, “we have to get out on your show, get out there on other shows. Spread the message, make the world familiar with me. With us.
“Thank you,” Adam said to Fargas, sincerely, “you have given me something to think about.”
“So,” Fargas said, “what are you, some kind of freaky guru or something?”
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
21
The black thing? Adam could say, ‘you’re not black, you know.’ But then, Adam would look stupid and ignorant, you can‘t act a color, right. You can try to imitate phrases you hear on rap songs, but... Justin could be any way he wanted to be, even if it’s a caricature. Who knows, maybe it was all a brilliant ruse, maybe he was an undercover government agent.
Adam made a mental note to himself, maybe Justin is an undercover government agent.
He finally settled on, “you’re not a rebel. You think you are, but you’re not.”
Justin opened his mouth to say something, but in the end couldn’t much think of what to say. Instead, he just laughed.
“Mouthing off to authority figures,” Adam said, “does not make you a rebel.”
“What,” Justin said, “you think you’re an authority figure?” and laughed again.
“No,” Adam said, “but you do.”
Everybody in the room, with the exception of Marsh, shifted uncomfortably, fidgeted or looked away.
“You carry around that toy gun,” Adam continued, “yet you show up to work everyday on time. You speed and drink and drive, but you do your taxes every year before the deadline. You claim to be your own man, but you follow me around like a lost puppy.”
“Yeah,” Justin said, nodding exaggeratedly, “you a big man with a big smart mouth, now, huh?”
“You follow me,” Adam said, ignoring him, “because you know spiritual enlightenment is the key to salvation from this world. But, if I told you to go off into the woods and live off the land for a year, to get it, you wouldn’t be able to do it. Not for a lack of survival skills, but because you’re afraid. You’re afraid of your own shadow so you put on a tough act.”
Justin laughed at this, more heartily than ever. Laughing and glaring with murderous eyes.
“You’re afraid of the big, dark woods, so you try to make yourself into the meanest, toughest thing in the forest, and everyone can see through it.”
Adam paused, no one made a sound or moved a muscle.
“It’s image. It’s an illusion.”
“Than tell me,” Justin said, chin thrust out, “tell me, oh great Mothafuckin’ Messiah? How do I become a real rebel like you?”
“No,” Adam said, “I don’t want rebels. Rebels will tear society apart.”
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“No, that’s not the point at all.”
There was a knock at the front door.
Adam turned toward the door, then turned back to Justin and said, “you better ask yourself why you want people to think you’re a rebel.”
“You’re so cosmic,” Justin said, “you tell me.”
“No,” Adam said again, “you have to answer to yourself.”
Adam turned his attention to everyone in the room and said, “I can only give you questions, not answers. Questions are better than answers.”
Then he turned to answer the door.
Adam made a mental note to himself, maybe Justin is an undercover government agent.
He finally settled on, “you’re not a rebel. You think you are, but you’re not.”
Justin opened his mouth to say something, but in the end couldn’t much think of what to say. Instead, he just laughed.
“Mouthing off to authority figures,” Adam said, “does not make you a rebel.”
“What,” Justin said, “you think you’re an authority figure?” and laughed again.
“No,” Adam said, “but you do.”
Everybody in the room, with the exception of Marsh, shifted uncomfortably, fidgeted or looked away.
“You carry around that toy gun,” Adam continued, “yet you show up to work everyday on time. You speed and drink and drive, but you do your taxes every year before the deadline. You claim to be your own man, but you follow me around like a lost puppy.”
“Yeah,” Justin said, nodding exaggeratedly, “you a big man with a big smart mouth, now, huh?”
“You follow me,” Adam said, ignoring him, “because you know spiritual enlightenment is the key to salvation from this world. But, if I told you to go off into the woods and live off the land for a year, to get it, you wouldn’t be able to do it. Not for a lack of survival skills, but because you’re afraid. You’re afraid of your own shadow so you put on a tough act.”
Justin laughed at this, more heartily than ever. Laughing and glaring with murderous eyes.
“You’re afraid of the big, dark woods, so you try to make yourself into the meanest, toughest thing in the forest, and everyone can see through it.”
Adam paused, no one made a sound or moved a muscle.
“It’s image. It’s an illusion.”
“Than tell me,” Justin said, chin thrust out, “tell me, oh great Mothafuckin’ Messiah? How do I become a real rebel like you?”
“No,” Adam said, “I don’t want rebels. Rebels will tear society apart.”
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“No, that’s not the point at all.”
There was a knock at the front door.
Adam turned toward the door, then turned back to Justin and said, “you better ask yourself why you want people to think you’re a rebel.”
“You’re so cosmic,” Justin said, “you tell me.”
“No,” Adam said again, “you have to answer to yourself.”
Adam turned his attention to everyone in the room and said, “I can only give you questions, not answers. Questions are better than answers.”
Then he turned to answer the door.
Monday, August 11, 2008
20
“Hi neighbor,” Adam said.
“Hello,” the neighbor said, uncertainly, “do I know you?”
“Well, that’s just what I wanted to talk to you about. We’re neighbors, see, and I think it’s time we got to know each other.”
The neighbor wracked his brain, searching to the last neuron for any possible way to get out of this without looking like a jerk. But there was no way, and he slammed the door in Adam’s face.
Adam took the walk of shame back up to the sidewalk where Marsh was waiting.
“This is ridiculous, that’s door number six, slammed in my face,” Adam said, “I think these guys are scaring people off,” he said referring to the camera crew who shadowed him everywhere he went.
“Well,” Marsh said, “it could be that, or it could be the fact that you’re up against a power as old as … as … well, you’re up against a very old power. One that’s had its grips on the community since the idea of community began. That is … mistrust.
Adam thought about it a minute and it seemed almost too obvious, obvious enough to make him suspicious.
Marsh turned to the twins, “are we rolling?”
They gave him the thumbs up, each in their own inimitable way.
“You see,” Marsh began, staring down the barrel of the lens, “it’s a tactic they’ve used since the dawn of time-a! Used by Sataaaaaan himself-a! Children … we call it diviiiiiiiiide and conquer-a. When the devil sows the seeds of mistrust, neighbor will shut out neighbor and communities are leeched of powaaaah! The one true Powaaaaah! The Power of the Lord-a! Only a strong community can reject Satan and those he would place in the seats of government-a!”
There was a slight crashing and scraping sound, from down the street. A little girl had jumped off her bike and run inside her house, after about five seconds a crack in the blinds appeared in the front window.
“Did we pick up that bike crashing,” Marsh asked Peter.
“Yeah,” he said, “ruined the take.”
“Okay, let’s try it again,” Marsh said.
The next three houses were either unoccupied or refused to answer the door. Maybe the word had got out, Adam thought, about the crazy people going door to door and yelling in the street, scaring children half to death. Maybe the phones were ringing off the hook, maybe this was a strong community, but he just wasn’t really a part of it.
They headed back to Adam’s house. It was a major setback, even without the shame involved, it was probably time to move out of the neighborhood.
Justin was ready to abuse the crew the minute they came through the door, after all, he was the one who thought getting to know the neighbors was a bad idea. It was the first time he had left Adam’s shadow since they met.
“Well, look who it is,” Justin said, “it’s the welcome wagon.”
“Shut up, Justin,” Adam said.
“What’s, uh,” Just continued, ignoring Adam’s request, “what’s the problem there, homes? Didn’t make any new friends? Don’t worry, son, your Momma will always love you.”
“Why don’t you just shut your mouth,” Eunice said to Justin.
“Ooohh, what you gonna do, bitch, give me a make-over?”
Eunice dropped her camera heavily (to Marsh’s dismay and a cry of “easy!”) and went charging toward Justin but was met halfway by Peter as she always was. She was always starting fires and he was always putting them out.
“Justin,” Adam said, “we need to talk.”
Adam motioned for Justin to follow him into the privacy of the kitchen.
“No,” Justin said, “Anything we have to say to each other, we can say in front of everybody.”
“Fine,” Adam said, and thought of how best to humiliate him.
“Hello,” the neighbor said, uncertainly, “do I know you?”
“Well, that’s just what I wanted to talk to you about. We’re neighbors, see, and I think it’s time we got to know each other.”
The neighbor wracked his brain, searching to the last neuron for any possible way to get out of this without looking like a jerk. But there was no way, and he slammed the door in Adam’s face.
Adam took the walk of shame back up to the sidewalk where Marsh was waiting.
“This is ridiculous, that’s door number six, slammed in my face,” Adam said, “I think these guys are scaring people off,” he said referring to the camera crew who shadowed him everywhere he went.
“Well,” Marsh said, “it could be that, or it could be the fact that you’re up against a power as old as … as … well, you’re up against a very old power. One that’s had its grips on the community since the idea of community began. That is … mistrust.
Adam thought about it a minute and it seemed almost too obvious, obvious enough to make him suspicious.
Marsh turned to the twins, “are we rolling?”
They gave him the thumbs up, each in their own inimitable way.
“You see,” Marsh began, staring down the barrel of the lens, “it’s a tactic they’ve used since the dawn of time-a! Used by Sataaaaaan himself-a! Children … we call it diviiiiiiiiide and conquer-a. When the devil sows the seeds of mistrust, neighbor will shut out neighbor and communities are leeched of powaaaah! The one true Powaaaaah! The Power of the Lord-a! Only a strong community can reject Satan and those he would place in the seats of government-a!”
There was a slight crashing and scraping sound, from down the street. A little girl had jumped off her bike and run inside her house, after about five seconds a crack in the blinds appeared in the front window.
“Did we pick up that bike crashing,” Marsh asked Peter.
“Yeah,” he said, “ruined the take.”
“Okay, let’s try it again,” Marsh said.
The next three houses were either unoccupied or refused to answer the door. Maybe the word had got out, Adam thought, about the crazy people going door to door and yelling in the street, scaring children half to death. Maybe the phones were ringing off the hook, maybe this was a strong community, but he just wasn’t really a part of it.
They headed back to Adam’s house. It was a major setback, even without the shame involved, it was probably time to move out of the neighborhood.
Justin was ready to abuse the crew the minute they came through the door, after all, he was the one who thought getting to know the neighbors was a bad idea. It was the first time he had left Adam’s shadow since they met.
“Well, look who it is,” Justin said, “it’s the welcome wagon.”
“Shut up, Justin,” Adam said.
“What’s, uh,” Just continued, ignoring Adam’s request, “what’s the problem there, homes? Didn’t make any new friends? Don’t worry, son, your Momma will always love you.”
“Why don’t you just shut your mouth,” Eunice said to Justin.
“Ooohh, what you gonna do, bitch, give me a make-over?”
Eunice dropped her camera heavily (to Marsh’s dismay and a cry of “easy!”) and went charging toward Justin but was met halfway by Peter as she always was. She was always starting fires and he was always putting them out.
“Justin,” Adam said, “we need to talk.”
Adam motioned for Justin to follow him into the privacy of the kitchen.
“No,” Justin said, “Anything we have to say to each other, we can say in front of everybody.”
“Fine,” Adam said, and thought of how best to humiliate him.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
19
The RFID chip rolled a semi-circle on the hard wood surface of a work bench in the garage.
“Do it now, son,” Marsh said.
Adam watched it roll back, then forth again, finally coming to a dead stop. He looked up, anticipating excitement on the faces of his friends and filmmakers but instead finding only passive interest. The excitement, he knew, would be in the footage, not in the moment. His life had become a film, and his environment a film set. Behind the camera were slightly bored people wanting to get on with it and wrap up for the day.
Marsh nodded encouragingly.
He brought the hammer up, one-handed, well over his head … and down, dead center! The chip remained perfectly intact save for a white smudge on its glassy half.
He brought up the hammer, and slammed it back down again, this time leaving only a mangy white and red powder and a mangled and flattened circuit.
***
Asleep again, are you? Dreaming, yes? A warm and comfortable private world to crawl into when you close your eyes. But what if the world of your dreams was not so private, hm? Would it still be as cozy for you? Would you still fly and rape willing female dream puffs or would you watch yourself? Disguise your inner desires?
More to the point, would you eventually give way to moral decency and recognize the rights of others if you couldn’t wake up? Would you live a rational existence in a dream reality or would you plunge into an id soaked horror of depravity?
Would you wake up and become your fantasy, knowing there was an easy escape into a private world when you close your eyes? Few have gone so far, I know.
But you could.
You could do it all because God does not recognize you as one of his own.
You could preside over a heaven of your own. Or a hell. It’s your choice, clearly.
You will not go to God’s heaven, and you will not go to God’s hell. You must create your own kingdom of heaven, here on earth. Or a kingdom of hell. You have the power.
The world is waiting, but it grows impatient.
***
Leah was already awake, lying on her side, looking at him.
He blinked his eyes open and said, “there is no God. We must love them, now, while we still can. Love our neighbors.”
“Do it now, son,” Marsh said.
Adam watched it roll back, then forth again, finally coming to a dead stop. He looked up, anticipating excitement on the faces of his friends and filmmakers but instead finding only passive interest. The excitement, he knew, would be in the footage, not in the moment. His life had become a film, and his environment a film set. Behind the camera were slightly bored people wanting to get on with it and wrap up for the day.
Marsh nodded encouragingly.
He brought the hammer up, one-handed, well over his head … and down, dead center! The chip remained perfectly intact save for a white smudge on its glassy half.
He brought up the hammer, and slammed it back down again, this time leaving only a mangy white and red powder and a mangled and flattened circuit.
***
Asleep again, are you? Dreaming, yes? A warm and comfortable private world to crawl into when you close your eyes. But what if the world of your dreams was not so private, hm? Would it still be as cozy for you? Would you still fly and rape willing female dream puffs or would you watch yourself? Disguise your inner desires?
More to the point, would you eventually give way to moral decency and recognize the rights of others if you couldn’t wake up? Would you live a rational existence in a dream reality or would you plunge into an id soaked horror of depravity?
Would you wake up and become your fantasy, knowing there was an easy escape into a private world when you close your eyes? Few have gone so far, I know.
But you could.
You could do it all because God does not recognize you as one of his own.
You could preside over a heaven of your own. Or a hell. It’s your choice, clearly.
You will not go to God’s heaven, and you will not go to God’s hell. You must create your own kingdom of heaven, here on earth. Or a kingdom of hell. You have the power.
The world is waiting, but it grows impatient.
***
Leah was already awake, lying on her side, looking at him.
He blinked his eyes open and said, “there is no God. We must love them, now, while we still can. Love our neighbors.”
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
18
Marsh arrived in an unmarked van with two young people, a camera girl and a sound guy. They were fraternal twins, yet oddly enough didn’t share the same birth day, they were both born around midnight, one on either side.
Marsh had told Adam they were coming, over the phone, “Okay, so,” he said, “here’s what I want to do: I want to film you. I want to film a documentary film about you and what you’ve been through. To get the message out there to the people.”
“Yes,” Adam had said, pounding his fist into his thigh, “Yes! I will bring the message to the people!”
So Adam, Justin, Leah, Thomas, Marsh and the twins, Peter and Eunice, set up at Adam’s place, and got filming right away.
“This is the perfect situation,” Adam had told Leah, before anybody had arrived but Justin, who hadn’t left Adam’s side. “The theatre is the new temple, and the TV is the household shrine and Hollywood is the Vatican. Film is the new religion.”
Leah had her doubts. She didn’t trust Marsh and wasn’t sure about all this, besides.
“The theatre is the temple and the man on screen is the preacher. I will be the man on screen.”
Adam took the chip out of his pocket, as he always carried with him everywhere he went, almost instinctively, and showed it to Marsh and the camera.
“How did you know about this?” Adam asked.
“It fits with the M.O. I’ve been talking about these things since my show began. Let me see that.”
Marsh studied the chip carefully, reverently.
“Soon,” he said, “everybody will be chipped, if we don’t stand up to them.”
“Who?” Adam said, “who, exactly is them?”
“The New World Order. Nearly every world leader is a part of it, and if they’re not, they’re a rogue state, a terrorist state, get it? Their plan is to set up a one world government, and once that’s in place, they’ll use these things to keep us in line.”
“How,” Adam said, “tell me how.”
“Well, right now it’s just used as a tracking device, and it’ll continue to be used that way, but soon, if we’re not careful, the NWO proposed one world government will go to a single world currency, a moneyless system. All transactions will be tallied in credits. Credits that are kept entirely on these chips. And if people like you and me want to step up and protest what they’re doing, they’ll just turn off your chip so you can’t buy food or anything.”
“Yeah,” Thomas piped up, “I’ve heard of that.”
Adam thought about it a moment and said, “what if your family or neighbors just fed you. I mean, sure, you’d be a burden on the community, but--”
“They’d just turn off their chips, too,” Marsh answered.
“Well,” Adam continued, “what if everybody got together and didn’t want to feel threatened anymore and said, ’you can’t turn off all our chips,’ because if they did they’d be powerless.”
“Never happen,” Thomas said.
“If the people don’t accept it the chips will have no power, the government will have no power,” Adam said, “the power always resides with the people.”
“You’re right,” Marsh said, “the power lies with the people. But if you look in a law dictionary, the definition of people is very different from what you think it is. We are not the people, by law definition. By law definition the people are the executive, the judicial and the legislative. And by the time their one world government is voted into power, we really will be powerless.”
“What do you mean, voted in?” Adam said.
“Right now,” Marsh said, “we do have some power. That’s why they don’t just set up their system of government now, it would be too messy. It’s an experiment, to see if they can carry out their plans without having to kill off all the rabble. Consider it a fair rule of engagement. They will give us fair warning. They will tell us their plans and package them in a way that the voters won’t just accept their plans, they’ll demand them, just to prove they can get away with it. To prove that we are cattle and they are smarter and better than us. It’s a sick game.
“And once their plans are voted into place, if we were to revolt, they could just kill us all, anyway.”
“But we can fight back,” Adam said.
“We’ve got guns, they’ve got bombs and tanks.”
Adam smiled, “they’ve got the bombs, but we’ve got the … Justin, take it away…”
“Minds,” Justin said, “we got the minds, yo.”
It was all there on film.
Marsh had told Adam they were coming, over the phone, “Okay, so,” he said, “here’s what I want to do: I want to film you. I want to film a documentary film about you and what you’ve been through. To get the message out there to the people.”
“Yes,” Adam had said, pounding his fist into his thigh, “Yes! I will bring the message to the people!”
So Adam, Justin, Leah, Thomas, Marsh and the twins, Peter and Eunice, set up at Adam’s place, and got filming right away.
“This is the perfect situation,” Adam had told Leah, before anybody had arrived but Justin, who hadn’t left Adam’s side. “The theatre is the new temple, and the TV is the household shrine and Hollywood is the Vatican. Film is the new religion.”
Leah had her doubts. She didn’t trust Marsh and wasn’t sure about all this, besides.
“The theatre is the temple and the man on screen is the preacher. I will be the man on screen.”
Adam took the chip out of his pocket, as he always carried with him everywhere he went, almost instinctively, and showed it to Marsh and the camera.
“How did you know about this?” Adam asked.
“It fits with the M.O. I’ve been talking about these things since my show began. Let me see that.”
Marsh studied the chip carefully, reverently.
“Soon,” he said, “everybody will be chipped, if we don’t stand up to them.”
“Who?” Adam said, “who, exactly is them?”
“The New World Order. Nearly every world leader is a part of it, and if they’re not, they’re a rogue state, a terrorist state, get it? Their plan is to set up a one world government, and once that’s in place, they’ll use these things to keep us in line.”
“How,” Adam said, “tell me how.”
“Well, right now it’s just used as a tracking device, and it’ll continue to be used that way, but soon, if we’re not careful, the NWO proposed one world government will go to a single world currency, a moneyless system. All transactions will be tallied in credits. Credits that are kept entirely on these chips. And if people like you and me want to step up and protest what they’re doing, they’ll just turn off your chip so you can’t buy food or anything.”
“Yeah,” Thomas piped up, “I’ve heard of that.”
Adam thought about it a moment and said, “what if your family or neighbors just fed you. I mean, sure, you’d be a burden on the community, but--”
“They’d just turn off their chips, too,” Marsh answered.
“Well,” Adam continued, “what if everybody got together and didn’t want to feel threatened anymore and said, ’you can’t turn off all our chips,’ because if they did they’d be powerless.”
“Never happen,” Thomas said.
“If the people don’t accept it the chips will have no power, the government will have no power,” Adam said, “the power always resides with the people.”
“You’re right,” Marsh said, “the power lies with the people. But if you look in a law dictionary, the definition of people is very different from what you think it is. We are not the people, by law definition. By law definition the people are the executive, the judicial and the legislative. And by the time their one world government is voted into power, we really will be powerless.”
“What do you mean, voted in?” Adam said.
“Right now,” Marsh said, “we do have some power. That’s why they don’t just set up their system of government now, it would be too messy. It’s an experiment, to see if they can carry out their plans without having to kill off all the rabble. Consider it a fair rule of engagement. They will give us fair warning. They will tell us their plans and package them in a way that the voters won’t just accept their plans, they’ll demand them, just to prove they can get away with it. To prove that we are cattle and they are smarter and better than us. It’s a sick game.
“And once their plans are voted into place, if we were to revolt, they could just kill us all, anyway.”
“But we can fight back,” Adam said.
“We’ve got guns, they’ve got bombs and tanks.”
Adam smiled, “they’ve got the bombs, but we’ve got the … Justin, take it away…”
“Minds,” Justin said, “we got the minds, yo.”
It was all there on film.
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