Went To A Garden Party (An Existentialists Satirical Bible Interpretation)




Garden Party, part II

Previously on Garden Party:
However, in an area we now call the Middle East, the so-called fertile crescent (fertile the definitive word), two tribes stood out amongst all others. The Aggies and The Shepherds.

Adam came across a small waterhole in which a young lady was bathing in the nude. Not recognizing her from his tribe he assumed she must belong to the Shepherds
Part Two…..Everybody out of the gene pool!

The first night after seeing this naked Shepherd woman Adam woke up all wet after a salacious dream of fantasy. S&M and fetishes (aside from the occasional animal fetish) hadn’t been invented yet so Adams fantasy was of pure and lurid sex with this fair shepherds daughter. He now had an obsession to sneak off to the forbidden zone in search of the erogenous zone. After quickly finishing his chores he would sneak down to the waterhole every day hoping for a copious viewing. He watched from the trees as she bathed herself getting more horny each day. He stared in awe until he got up enough nerve to confront her. “Young maiden of the Shepherds, why do you come to the forbidden place each day by yourself?” The young maiden pretended to be alarmed even though she had been aware of his hiding and staring since his first visit. Frankly, she was just as curious and horny as he was, also experiencing tingles and fantasizing about inter-tribal sex. “I come here to bath myself, not to be stared at by an Aggie. Why do you come here every day to stare at me?” The young Aggie gave this some thought, because quite frankly he wasn’t sure himself why he was here. “ I come not to stare at you but to explore the area and determine if the land is fit for growing” he lied. The young maiden blushed slightly when she saw the lust in his dark brown eyes. “Are you sure it is the land you wish to explore? It seems to me you are looking at my body and I believe that is not vegetation I see growing under your loincloth” The audacious young maiden gave him a look that offered more a challenge than a venting of distain. She blinked her eyes at him and something strange happened. He felt a Funny feeling in his stomach as though the seeds he used to grow things themselves were festering from within. He boldly chose to accept the challenge. “It is true that have gazed upon you and appreciate the…..unusual beauty you possess. Indeed I was hoping perhaps you were an Aggie and would be my maiden.” The Aggie could feel his entire body shaking and the young Shepherd maiden did not back away. She moved closer to the Aggie. “I am a Shepherd woman, not a dirt laden Aggie maiden. And you young Aggie, you are filled with dirt from your farming. If I were to ever consider being a maiden to the like of you I would expect you to be clean. Why don’t you come in here and allow me to bathe you?” It was more of an order than an invitation but that was of no consequence because he had already made his mind up as to where he was headed and his manhood was pointing the way. To honor this beuty of an animal penner Adam showed her a huge bud of something he had cultivated on his own. He broke off a piece, rolled it in some paper and struck a fire stick. He approached the watering hole with a mere modicum of trepidation and a huge blunt. Well two large blunts in the metaphoric sense. She held out her hand and he accepted the smoking blunt and puffed heartily. “What do you call this farm boy?” to which he answered with a dopey smile, “Green Acres.”
They puffed this happy herb and lo and behold it lowered their inhibitions to zero. Adam dropped his loincloth and revealed that the growth underneath it was indeed ripe for the picking. He stepped naked into the waterhole beside her. For two minutes they cleansed each other, eyes sparkling with curious wonder. The Aggie closed his eyes and allowed this maiden, this Shepherd woman to touch him all over. When she got down to washing below his waist he was surprised to discover how eagerly his body was responding without his consent. The maiden held his solid manpole in her hand. “Methinks my Aggie that you have something other than bathing on your mind.” Unable to form an actual word, the Aggie grabbed the maiden in his arms and laid a big fat spit swapping kiss on her using his tongue muscle very skillfully. This was something new to the maiden, and at first she wanted to pull back. However, once she realized how good the tongue tango felt, she greedily sucked his tongue into her mouth and allowed the saliva filled dance to continue. Well I don’t have to tell you what happened next. Sparks flew and fluids oozed, and soft moaning was the only form of communication. Of course the two lovers understood they would be scorned by their fellow tribe members for allowing their naked bodies to exchange these biological fluids, but frankly Scarlet they didn’t give a damn. They continued to explore each other and exchange passion and bodily fluids in so many positions it laid the groundwork for the upcoming Kama Sutra. They made passionate love four times and some not so passionate love twice more. It wasn’t until after the sixth round of carnal explorations led to exhaustion that they even introduced themselves to each other. “I am called Adam, which means man.” To which the maiden replied, “Indeed Adam, you are quite the man. More so than any Shepherd I have ever known. My name is Eve, which means life.” With a big fat satisfied grin Adam replied, “Indeed Eve, you have breathed life into me unequaled by any other Aggie I have ever known.” The only sound was the b=chirping birds, the cricking crickets, and the two stomachs growling from an unusual hunger pang. They found a fabulous apple tree and satisfied the very first cases of herbal munchies.
So Adam and Eve began to meet each other every day smoking Eden weed and making love like a couple of school kids. But all was not so good back at the tribes. The other Aggies were beginning to get suspicious because Adam never ever seemed to be dirty anymore. How could anyone work the soil all day yet remain free of dirt. And back at the Shepherds they began to get suspicious because Eve was always singing and whistling showing no interest in even the most handsome of Shepherds. Now it just so happened that the leader of each tribe sent a spy out to follow their respective suspected tribe violators on the very same day. Once at the watering hole, the Aggie spy hid in the north woods while the Shepherd spy hid in the south woods. At first the spies were appalled and shocked. But Adam and Eve were both so very sexually talented, and each brought new tricks specific to their tribes that it became more of a show. Sex theater at it’s finest. I believe at least one, perhaps even both had become so excited while watching that they pleasured themselves before returning to the tribe leaders to give the reports.
The tribe leaders were livid. Furious! How could this possibly happen? It was the most outrageous act that had ever occurred. They both paced, in different colonies yet somehow in unison, until the sinners returned to their folds. The minute Adam returned to the farming village he was grabbed by the biggest and strongest Aggies and brought before the leader. “Adam, I am quite disappointed”, he said, “You have disrespected every member of our tribe by engaging in this disgusting act with a Shepherd woman.” Adam didn’t answer, he just stood there looking sheepish, which for an Aggie was another no no. “You’re despicable act has left me with no other choice. You shall be banned forever from the garden of Eden. Go now, get out and never return. Take your Shepherd slut with you!” Adam sadly walked to his hut to gather his belongings. Inside he saw his best and now only friend. “How did he find out” he asked of this friend. “Well Adam, you were spied on by Cain. He followed you and reported back to the leader.” Adam shook his head and mumbled, “Cain, of course. I should have guessed. That shit spreading farmer is gonna pay for this someday.” And with that, Adam left towards the waterhole hoping to see Eve there one last time.
Eve of course had a similar experience, and she too was permanently banned from the Garden of Eden. Eve was certain it was Abel that had spied on her as Abel had always tried putting the moves on her but she forever denied his advances. Reluctantly she too had to leave, and also chose to have one last look around the sexually charged waterhole in hopes that somehow Adam might be there. As luck would have it, which luck often does in fairy tales, they met at the very same moment and exchanged stories of banishment’s.
So hand in hand Adam and Eve left the Garden of Eden forever, Eve holding in one hand one of the apples and a huge green bud Adam had grown for her, and in her other hand she held tight Adams snake, which Eve had so totally and completely tamed. It was the summer of discontent, and the fall of man.


The Quintessential Preacher and The Existential Baker



He entered the room
With a lingering scent
Of superiority
I sat in my chair
With a lingering sense
Of doubt
My son he began
I’m here to save you
Pray tell preacher
Who said I need saving
Your dark soul screams
My son I can help
Give forgiveness and salvation
Absolve you of evil deeds
I thought him self righteous
Dose not everyone have deeds
In need of forgiveness
Even you my dark friend
Why me your holy orator
The preacher sat down
Removed his hat
Placed a black book on my table
You like to read my son
An avid reader since I can remember I offered
Well reading is a path to enlightenments isn’t it
I seek truths about myself and others in books
Sometimes you need to read into the abyss
The preacher proudly thumped his Bible
This here book, my Bible, have you ever read it
Yes preacher I love fiction
My son, this is not fiction
It is divine history
This is life
The book of all truths
The greatest book ever written
Impossible I protested
He looked at me with incredulous curiosity
Nothing is impossible my boy
Well then if nothing is impossible preacher
Write a book greater than this one
Showing some frustration he angled deeper into my psyche
To attempt anything greater than the Lords work is blasphemy
Perhaps when you read it the evil was within you
Read it again and perhaps you will understand
I have read it preacher, I found it full of discrepancies
As well as hypocritical concepts
My son I beg of you to read it with me
I will prove to you that no greater book can ever be written
Preacher I said, if this book is the greatest thing ever has been written
What hope have we
It has too many inconsistencies
Claiming we should love all equally
Then telling us to stone prostitutes and homosexuals
It is laced with violence as well as forgiveness
Violence does not equate to forgiveness, only more violence
Besides preacher, if nothing greater could ever be written
Then what would be the point of writing anything at all
What would the writers have to strive for
You see the world in perfect terms
Perfect when you follow the Lord
Writing my son is a form of communication that can lead to enlightenment
So are cell phones preacher, why not have the divine one send me the greatest text ever and we’ll be done
The preacher stood up, put on his hat
May God have mercy on your soul my existential wanderer
It was the greatest conversation I’ve ever had
So far

I am not anti-religious, merely anti-religious manipulation. If your religion tells you its your duty to make everyone else believe what you do, you are confusing religion with political party. Because my religion comes from my heart, my spirituality comes from within, and I am certainly willing to share them with anyone who cares to, because my religion is love and inclusion free of indoctrination. Attempting to force someone to follow my beliefs goes against my very own core beliefs and sense of spiritual self. Educate yourself, evaluate what’s important to you, and follow your belief free of the force-feeding false prophets who insist you will perish in hell if you don’t do as they do. Never force your opinions upon any other living being, and no matter how misguided they may seem do not judge. Live and love in Peace my brothers and sisters

Existential Road Trip




Journey of essence
To the center of self
Illuminating the awareness of all being
Pursuit of the light
Beacon of knowledge
Without eyes lie the truth of  all-seeing


A journey too far
To travel by foot
Paths that are littered with ominous dangers
Temptations abound
Tricksters are many
Offering treats of avarice masked in chambers


No one travels alone
Be in good company
Because the road can be eerily undetermined
Come take my hand
I’ll shoulder the load
Together unscramble a life giving sermon

The destination omega
To a wonderful world
The place where everyone’s dreams are conceived
Histories are written
Prophecies fulfilled
A fantasy that must be lived before its believed

Tread careful the avenues
Streets possess extra eyes
Recording our visions profound and soul deep
Sights that will take you
To the edge of the universe
Where mourning willows laugh as the hyena’s weep

But its not the destination
It’s the trip ethereal
The peace we search for must surely depend
On crossing river Styx
With paradigms of absolution
The final mile we will all make amends


All of us must embark on our own journey, and once we accomplish the search of our selves to figure out who we are the journey becomes enjoyable. Our paths are exclusive to ourselves but our destinations remain the same. It’s a path to enlightenment, or nirvana, salvation in heaven, rebirth, the collective consciousness, next phase, astral plane, or maybe just another rung on the ladder of life. Does it even matter? It takes a far better person than I to answer such profound queries but what I do know is no matter where or when or how we end up, we will all be there together

We All Live In A Yellow Petri Dish



J.T. Hilltop

There are those among us that believe that we ourselves are the ultimate creations, the single most important things in the entire universe. No, not Trump, I’m talking about the science deniers and reverently religious zealots who still insist that the universe is finite and was created by the one and only true creator, theirs. The ones that say earth is only 6,000 years old and science is pure bovine defecation. Taking into consideration that when the world was created calculators were still a ways off, not to mention that the length of a day was our creation not Gods I have to disagree. A day could have lasted a million of our years or a millisecond of time, who‘s to say. Still many insist scientists have it wrong and deny that their religious texts are open to interpretation, that it should all taken literal. (or at least until the literal doesn’t agree with their perceptions) They believe not only are we the most intelligent but we are also the chosen species. Bad news my zealot friends, the truth is we are but small specks of a bacterium culture in a Petri dish being studied under a microscope. Much like the bacterial sight of worms and assorted squiggly things we viewed in biology labs in high school. Perhaps we haven’t even been discovered yet by the scientists/creators studying us. We are merely part of a quantum theory to those viewing universal growth in a dish. To them the bacteria we observe microscopically is still a hypothesis and they are searching for the Higgs Bosen or God particle of humanity. Which in reality once they find this sub atomic particle is nothing more than our very own discovery of staphylococcus. Get it? Well don’t, it’s a bitch to get rid of. But anyway that essentially makes us pathogens to these humongous scientific creatures who have us in their labs in a Petri dish. Confused? Okay, a little perspective.

Physicists today have gone way beyond big bang theory into string, quantum, multi dimensional, and multi-universal thought. Most believe there is not just one universe we can’t even seem to find the end of or that keeps expanding but perhaps there are two or more, maybe an infinite number of universes. We can only see what’s in our own “observable” universe so how can we possibly have enough arrogance to claim there is nothing else but our universe? Personally I think instead of just exploring all over the universe trying to find the end one of us should just stop and ask directions. Unfortunately that would involve admitting we are not the smartest species in this universe. Earth is just one spinning orb filled with various forms of life perhaps totally different from any of the millions of other types of living matter out there in the deep recess of space. At any rate, its my belief that our universe is situated in a huge sort of culture dish in a ginourmous scientific lab that makes the large Hadron Collider in CERN seem like a waterpark. Think of our world being observed like a tiny little ant farm. But one being viewed from the moon. Not our moon, Io, one of Jupiter’s moons.

The truth is our universe does have limits in the way of a spherical finite dish with a circumference as its boundaries. Sure it can grow like bacteria grows but even with logarithmic growth spurts it will eventually hit the rim of the dish and be forced to stop. Our seemingly never ending universe is a live active culture in large round dish known as Experiment#541728226, and it is stored along with hundreds upon hundreds of other universe dishes all containing planets, solar systems, galaxies, quasars, black holes, pulsars and super novas. Or as the multiverse creator/scientists call it, Cosmic Bacterium. To us, our planet has a multitude of different species including humans, but to the Cosmic Scientist we are merely an organic growth in a dish. Its an experiment and we are what they call micro-humanoid genatlium, a parasitic bacteria they discovered on the hairs of the genitals of a species from their world similar to our primates. Kinda like gorilla ball hair bacteria, simian salmonella if you will.

Now I know this all sounds a bit far fetched, like maybe a chapter from an L Ron Hubbard or Michael Creighton story but when you really think about it its not much different than many of the wacko tales of some of our more creative or devolved religions around our own world. Aside from the obvious out there accounts burning bushes, floating zoo’s, talking donkeys, plague bringers, salt pillar people, and river parters of the more common sort we have one religion created by a sci-fi writer that involves alien infiltration. Then we have the not so mainstream or well known religions like ones that focus on magic spells, UFO’s, cosmic light people, and even a church of euthanasia, which promotes cannibalism, suicide, and sodomy. The Seven Deadly Sin Day Adventists. And that’s not even the most bizarre. There is a group of people whose religious belief is that the illuminati impregnated a women with Satan’s sperm and delivered the baby antichrist They also believe that Nicola Tesla was originally from Venus and that we are conducting cloning experiments on Mars. Now I ask you, is a universe that’s a petri dish in a cosmic laboratory really all that out there in this perspective?

I mean really, compare my theory to creation theorist that include leaders who convince their followers to drink poison Kool aid, commit mass suicide to transport their souls to a spaceship chasing the comet Hale Bop, allowed themselves to be killed while locked in a building with their families? How about a theory that the creator of life came from a big boat on a planet orbiting the star Sirius. I’m serious, Sirius! I’m not saying religion is wrong, or bad, but why can’t my theory be as viable as the others?

Shit, by comparison my theory sounds almost plausible, or perhaps even sane! Hell, maybe it is sane, maybe I’m on to something. Perhaps the end of the world as we know it won’t be so spectacular, perhaps our world will end when the scientist in charge of experiment 541728226 gets frustrated at their progress and dumps the entire universe down a galactic drainpipe. Or maybe I watch too much Doctor Who and enjoyed too much mind benders back in the day, but then again hey……Ya never know, I could be on to something. The TARDISites of Gallifrey….I’d follow depending on what sna


Cosmo And The Garden Earth (An Absurdist Philosophical Tale of Creation)




War, Hummph, what is it good for…Absolutely nothing!


Now I’ve done more than my fair share of hallucinogens in my day and honestly I have had some pretty obscure hallucinations but believe me this was no chemically induced manifestation. The most remarkable thing happened. Cosmo’s arms came right through my computer screen and grabbed me by the shoulders. As if I had been transformed into a wavelength of pixilated energy I entered into the story I was writing coming face to face with the god I thought I had created. I was confused beyond galactic proportions and I somehow managed a statement. “Oh My Cosmo, did I die?” My mind was racing, no harp music, that has to be a good sign, but there he was big as life. His voice was less godly than I anticipated, no thundering roars, just a friendly statement as if he were a college professor or just a bar mate, “I understand you have some profound questions JT. Come with me and I will try to give you some answers. We’ll be traveling through various dimensions in a way you are unfamiliar with so just remain quiet and observe” I was stunned, in a sort of trance but I decided to take the RAM by the horns. But Cosmo grabbed my hand and even though I had a keyboard full of questions I was dragged alongside this sprirty thing in silence. We moved through some sort of crowded city street then through a bustling building into another building. I thought it was the New York Stock Exchange but it was cold and unlit. I could hear people trying hard to yell over each other even though the place was empty. Through another dimension and we found ourselves walking through a bank, also cool and unlit this time filled with voices in a language I could not understand, like Japanese or something. Through another dimension we found ourselves in some sort of foreign government building, a palace or some ultra rich home, and finally through a concrete graveyard. Just as quickly as it had gotten cold and dark a light appeared and a wave of warmth spread over my body. We were walking along a beach I had gone to many times in my younger days, and then through the familiar streets of my youth. The seaside city that watched me grow to a man. The ball field I learned to play baseball in, the playground complete with see saw where I learned the mechanics and necessity of teamwork, school, cars, bars, all of my youth. I was feeling giddy. He led to some sort of park that was filled with all sort of life. Everywhere I could see and hear children playing and laughing squirrels darting to and fro, birds jumping from branch to branch, and I even thought I saw a small fox. I couldn’t help but smile as Cosmo walked me through the most carefree times of my life. At long last we came to a path in a wooded area that led to a clearing. “There JT, over there. We can sit there and talk.” I almost ran up to the clearing and found a spot to sit. I had so many questions and I wasn’t sure where to start but as it happened I didn’t need to. Cosmo looked me in the eyes and this is going to sound strange but I got the feeling I was looking at everyone I had ever known. Cosmo spoke clear and soft. “JT, you have many questions and I will try to answer them as simply as possible. You ask of the purpose of life?” The largest and warmest smile I had ever seen.

“Its not God that works in mysterious ways JT, its love. Love has the power to create misery or mystery, irritation or elation. You remember one of your favorite all time movies? How about this line, “You’ve always had the power to get home. You just needed to learn how to use it?” Its not a co-incidence that it’s a wonderful life came out the same time. “To my brother George, the richest man in town” Love tried in the year 1933 to remind the humans what’s important and what is real, but it never caught on as anything more than entertainment. People still went about learning to hate, to be greedy and jealous. The opposite emotions of love overpowered the minds of humanity.” He sat and stared reflectively out at the children playing so I took the opportunity to ask a question, “Am I dead?”. Again the warm smile, “JT my son, death is not something to fear, its merely a stage. What’s important here is that you understand life, not death. Things are what they are because love lost out to power and greed. That’s the classic Good versus Evil if ever there was one. You see the planet earth really is a garden, like a giant rain forest and it needs cosmic tending. I am the gardener. I got all of life here started and have just shown you your history.”

I was not quite sure I grasped what he was saying, I mean just like if there is a God why would that God allow so much misery? “What’s the matter JT, did you not understand?” I reflected a moment and responded. “No, I understand on a certain level, you say something like fate that you created determined our paths on earth but something still bugs me I mean ….well why wars? Why did you allow war with its devastation and destruction to evolve. Its like history was written in blood and not ink. Why does it seem like we are constantly at war somewhere?” I watched as Cosmo thought deeply, I assume to give an accurate assessment. “War as it has come to be is hard to explain it’s one of my biggest disappointments along with my dinosaurs. Let me start at its beginning and see if I can in some way outline it for you. When the garden was still quite young many different tribes were forming all over. They shared one common concept. They understood and observed my law of life. This understood law was quite simply that every creature has the right to achieve its survival in the garden. What a creature cannot do is deny any other creature its right to its own survival strategies without reason. But in one little garden corner, or more accurately a crescent, a certain species figured out a way to manufacture and horde food. They penned animals behind fences and learned how to cultivate and manipulate vegetation. This would eventually become known as the agricultural revolution and they horded so much food that no one in the tribes ever went hungry. They prospered, and when a species prospers it has growth spurts. They were eating and fornicating so much the population doubled, then tripled. This created two major problems, first it was getting too crowded, and second by hording so much food it was depriving other creatures of an opportunity to feed. To make shit worse, if a fox or a gopher or a crow or any other creature tried to eat the horded food, they not only killed the hungry thief, but they attempted to annihilate that entire species of the hungry creatures even if they themselves weren’t taking food. Just because they MIGHT take some food at some point. But it was the crowding that really set the fecal matter hurling towards the rotary oscillator. These tribes began forming imaginary lines and began laying ownership claims to the land, and all the animals and vegetation on that land. My land! As a few generations passed by the people began forgetting the time when the garden belonged to everything and soon the people were growing up with the notion that their parts of the garden actually belonged to them by virtue of their imaginary lines. As they worked the land they tried to figure out why some harvests would suffer droughts or flooding storms. They began to fear that a higher power was responsible so they invented gods. Oh mercy did they invent gods. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands. A god that made it rain, or a god that controlled the wind. Even the big beautiful sun was a god. And they started making sacrifices to these gods. Animals, other humans, whatever they felt would make the gods happy so they could continue to horde food. Somewhere along the line one culture came up with the concept that there is only one god, the true god. This somehow gave them superiority because they were the culture that knew the truth. When other cultures challenged that belief they would destroy the threat brutally so their god wouldn’t think them wimps. They began building armies to protect their belief and to protect their imaginary lines. The weapons they once farmed and hunted with now became instruments of death and destruction used on any human that challenged their land ownership or their one true god. They began a strange custom of burying their dead which further denied other creatures the right to what belongs to the garden. It broke the cycle. So the armies began killing in the name of god and they began killing any who trespassed their land. Their land! Oh that makes me laugh. No, it makes me angry. They began to get crowded, they were charging people money to live on my land which they called their own because of some stupid imaginary lines. They wanted more land, they made the imaginary lines longer and wider.” Cosmo stopped to catch his breath as he was visibly upset. I wanted to change the mood so I asked, “You keep saying imaginary lines, are you talking about borders? Borders are important because they separate areas of land.” A funny sound came from his nose like a nasal windstorm or something, and I wasn’t sure if the smile on his face was sincere or sarcastic. Maybe both. “Where do you live JT?” I proudly informed him I was born and bred in New York. “And what makes you so different form someone born and bred in Connecticut, or New Jersey? Or even Oklahoma for that matter? Do they have three arms in New Jersey? Five legs in Connecticut? Perhaps they are half bovine half human in Oklahoma! Of course not. Aside from a slight difference in the way they pronounce words, or the words they use to describe things like soda in New York and pop in Oklahoma you are all the same. You see JT, borders don’t separate people from other species of people, they are just arbitrary lines that make you think you belong to something special. Like New York which you so proudly proclaim. You are no different from a JT from Oklahoma just different environments. 0You can’t step over a line somewhere and not find people similar to the one on the other side. You look for the differences in each other instead of the similarities. That’s part of the problem. You have forgotten that in the end you are all human. You all want to love and be loved, you all want to live a happy and healthy life, you all get sick or injured and you will all eventually die. When you really think about it there are much more traits you have in common to others than there are that make you different. Why even more similar if you take religion out of the equation. If there were no Jews, or Muslims, or Hindis, or Christians how would you define your differences? But I suppose you will go on believing that it is important to consider yourself in some way better than other humans. That’s why war JT. That was how it began, war was a child protecting its ego from the rest of the world.”

“And the armies got bigger and stronger, and the weapons more and more advanced to give whoever had the most money to pay for the best equipment. Ah yes, once greed reared its ugly head in it humanity was done for. The larger landowners had better weapons and machinery and therefore built stronger and deadlier armies to protect them. It wasn’t enough to have more than enough food, they wanted to have it all. Control the food and you will control the world. Wars raged on in a struggle to control the food and hence the people, and to keep everyone in line it was important that everyone believed the armies had god on their side. Sounds a bit ridiculous when you think about it. All loving God wants you to kill or maim other humans. In the name of God my ass, it is clearly in the name of gold, or oil, or rubber, or anything else that can make one rich with the false perception of power. War had and has terrible consequences. Death and destruction resulted in a bid for the powerful to become even more powerful. It’s easy to see what horrible atrocities could come out of war but there were unintended consequences occurring as well.. The most hideous was the buying and selling of other humans. Slavery was a direct result of war. When one army decimated another those unfortunate enough to live were turned into slaves. Why? To work the land so the owners could own more and not have to pay. Buying another human being. Despicable, yet an accepted practice everywhere. Now they owned the land, the food, some of the animals and even other humans and industry flourished. War had become a teenager feeding on greed and lust for power. Yea, things were out of control, people killing in my name, killing for power, killing out of lust. That’s when I sent my son down, to put them back on track. To get them to understand that they should worship no one but accept everyone. They needed to revert back to a culture of existing with the rest of the garden”

Como paused here as though reflecting on a happy moment in his past. I know the look because I do it myself quite often. That was okay with me because my head was spinning anyway. After a five minute pause, he continued. “ Well that sure didn’t work out too well. When my son witnessed so much greed and lust and crime and trickery it pissed him off. He began to use my name to warn them of my fury so instead of a message being go back to living together they continued to worship. They gave him so much shit and many of the humans wanted to mess him up so he changed his message. Out of anger it became more like follow me and listen or my Dad will kick your ass. Just as quick as a nuclear fission things turned from bad to worse and religion split off into a few different major religions, all agreeing on only one thing. That their religion is the one and only true religion and all others must perish and give the world to them. God created earth for humans after all, but only for the humans that know and understand true religion. Bah!. So they did what they always do to a theory they can‘t comprehend, they killed him. A horrible way too. It’s almost like they had to think of the most heinous way for him to die. I guess it made them feel all chest puffy or something. They had no idea how little and insignificant they were. Like any other gnat in this galaxy, their entire species could be wiped out in one giant swat and the universe would continue as though they never existed. But war was now becoming a young adult, and the weaponry just got more and more advanced. Bombs, missiles, planes, tanks, all the best and biggest in high tech murdering. Not that they should stop there, why of course there would be biological and chemical weapons as well. All the way up to the ultimate bomb. The atom bomb. The garden was ultimately taken over by the most destructive species that ever roamed the planet.”



The Book Of Truths As Told Through Whispers




Far too many sun ups have passed me by

On clouds of melancholy mist

Truth abandoned in the fog of words

Clouded memories lost or forgotten

To become fairy tales and folklore

History casts an ominous shadow

Ghost bones begin to rattle a beat

Softly the voice of Satan coaxed

Whispering gossip from the time beginning

Come and see Lord what we have made thee


What hath our religion become?

Murmurs of behavioral reason

Treat those as thy would thyself

Unless they are considered less

Abominations in the eyes of ourselves

What can’t be defined we must condemn

Before it reveals us for what we truly are

Babes swaddled in the cloth of hypocrisy

Eyes unable to see yet fit to judge at will

Sanctimonious visions of how life exists


Whispers written in a book called truth

Scribed from the days of opulent lies

The rules of life with answers so simple

Yet too complex to include the disparate

Designed to assuage the guilt of our conscience

In the name of all we have yet to understand

So soothing to bathe once in a week

In the baptismal waters of deceptions

Reading but not following his rules of conduct

The holy book of truth as told through whispers










Viva La Revelations (A twisted tale from the unrepentant Absurdist)



J.T. Hilltop

I was always the fucking last one picked. No one really wanted me on their team. Said I was uncoordinated, too slow, and good for nothing. But I showed them. I wrote a book for the Bible. The “Book of Revelations” which ironically was the last story chosen for the Bible. Coincidence? Are you fucking kidding me or what?? Maybe you think Revelations was too fat, too slow, and too uncoordinated to play in the Old Testament but Omega of the New? Get the Shepherds Flock outta here. Ya want the true story or the bullshit stories you’ve been taught by people you have been fooled into trusting.

Well my name is John. John of Pathos and I had the visions I am prepared to share with you while in jail. Yea that’s right, jail. What? You thought we only had torture chambers back then? Okay admittedly dudes and dudettes we had some killer Iron Maidens but we also used jails. And jail is where I was at when I received the Holy Fucking Revelations!

The book of revelations is somewhat difficult to tell because its told in some rather unusual circumstances. I had been a prolific Theological Blogger in my day who had already had a number of stories published in the New Testament under my chisel name, Pontius Pontificator. Not to brag or anything but it’s a play on my own name John the Fornicator. I used Pontius cuz I was a dream to the ladies if ya knows what I mean. Anyways, some of my books were under the epistle category, and a gospel song called Psalm 43 (The P has the right to remain silent). John the Fornicator from Pathos will now begin the story of Revelations as I saw in my visions from jail. It includes the four headless horsemen of Sleepy Hollow, the Liar of Judah, angels, seven trumpeters, the beast, a dragon, a false prophet, an arched angel, and of course no biblical tale would be complete without a whore, this one straight outta Babylon. So take out your cones guys and girls, here’s the real deal scoop appeal.


One evening while I was studying in the prison library the guard tells me I got this like visitor. Now not many of my friends come by and my family disowned me so my interest is how you say, peeked. A woman, not saying it was Jesus’ Mary cause I would never do nothing behind the J-mans back so lets just say she looked quite similar to Mary Magdalene. So Mary come in and lays a snog toggling tongue twirling kiss right on my mouth. I mean it was like a cheek wrestling, saliva swapping smacker of a French kiss right there in plain view of everyone in the visitors cave. While we was moanin and groanin I could feel two slimy tabs of something slip off Maggs tongue. She tells me to swallow, something you don’t normally wanna hear in prison, but I swallows the tabs. Then she tells me I just took two tabs of Cobalt Cheer acid. Man I was stoked, that’s some ass kicking cid right there my brothers, I knew I was gonna be tripping my nuts off. I smiled all the way back to my cell knowing what was coming. I got to my confinement cave and laid down on my stone cot while my bulge subsided. (Hey, when ya gets a kiss of that nature when incarcerated things pop up and stay popped up) After about a half hour or forty five minutes or so I hears this voice. Like I sit up right away and look around but there ain’t no one there. So I lays back down when the voice comes back, this time calling me by name. “Oh Jaa-ahn” So’s I shout who’s that, who’s there? And the voice says ‘Its me John, God.’ Now I’m thinking it must be the acid kickin’ in right? I mean the walls of the cave had been like breathing for a while and this voice was like soft and almost girly. Not the powerful deep voice you’d expect God would have but the chick-like voice insists. ‘Really John, its me God’ Then he steps out from the shadows and sure enough it is the almighty himself, God. Amazing how much Jesus looked like him, I mean like the spittin’ image except like a million years difference. What else could I do? I sez, “what’s happening God?”

Then he walks straight through the bars. Not around them, I mean like right through them, like they wasn’t even there. Then he sez, ‘John, I’m going to tell you a story. I want you to write this story down and make sure everyone reads it.’ I’m really feelin ripe about now so I sez to him, you mean like a bestseller or something? To which he replies, ‘Ah…yea, something like that. But first try and get the story into the bible, because the book needs a proper prophetic ending and this will be the story of the end and the new beginning.’ Now I’m really thinking the acid must be slamming the insides of my brain up against my skull or something but I figures maybe I should like play along and I sez to him, ‘Yea, yea sure Mr. Devine Being, whatever you sez. He goes on, “When I first created everything I had seven arch angels to watch over heaven and protect it. Six of these arch cherubs were cool, but one malignant rascal, Beelzebub, was just a real pain in the sacred cheeks. Had to do everything his own way and refused to follow my directions. Finally one day I caught him rolling in the hayclouds with Gabriel’s teenage daughter and that was the last straw. I tossed him and his baneful ways out of heaven straight down to earth along with one third of the questionable residents of heaven, like my own heavenly flotilla. He went down to earth with the low-lifes and they formed a gang of goblin thugs calling themselves the Crypts. Picked the name of a sacred burial undercroft just to spite me. After that he enters the Garden of Eden, whips out his penis angling it in front of Eve like some big snake. Well of course his phallus being thrice the size of Adams Eves eyes widened, began to water and left her mouth agape which he quickly filled with an apple. He then seduced Eve enticing her to make love, five times, and that’s when all the trouble began. That was the fall of man, when Adam, teeming with jealousy and divine penis envy begins recruiting humans for his own gang to exact revenge. So I had Gabriel, a very trusted angel form a gang up here first because I knew there would someday be a major showdown and the humans wouldn‘t stand a chance. He formed the Bloods of my blood, after my sons prophecy. We call them the Bloods for short, and it created a rivalry that would be the mother of all rivalries. Positive vs. Negative, Life vs. Death, Good vs. Evil, none of them have anything on the rivalry of the Bloods vs. Crypts. One day we would have our gang lords get together for an epic rumble. This showdown will be called The Rapture. Are you getting all this down John?”

Now I knows I’m still tripping and all but I’m starting to think maybe this shit really is on the up and up so’s I keep scraping away on my stones getting down his words so I could one day write the book for him.Being an ancient journalist of course I had questions, so I asks him to explain to me how this Rapture thing is gonna go down. Then something happens that may sound like a fairy tale or a hallucination. He floats up to the ceiling an sez come on up John it will be easier if I show you”

Now I’m flipping ya know? I’m like how the brimstone am I supposed to get up there, but before I even gets to thinking about a strategy I was lifted right off my feet and floated right next to him. Honest to god, from Gods mouth to my ear he whispers, ‘Watch this. These guys can really stir it up’ A light went on and I swear to you it looked like a giant flat screen TV in HD. The images seemed so real. There was a stage with seven musicians, each one a phenom trumpeter. Al Hirt,Loius Armstrong,Wynton Marsalas, Miles Davis,Chuck Mangione,Maynard Fererson, and Dizzy Gillespie. Not just ordinary musicians each stood with a golden trumpet in their hands. The seven Trumpeters. They jammed away in like improv style non stop for about an hour. Man my head was floating! And that’s when the real show started!






What’s Going On




Guns don’t kill people, mental health issues kill people, most of the time with guns. What’s going On? I won’t go as far as to blame any individuals rhetoric for the cause of a terrorist attack like the one at Planned parenthood but certainly many politicos have created a petrie dish environment growing cultures of hate and anger using rhetoric to get attention. But don’t blame them they need a bump in the polls or an endorsement of votes and we buy into it. We don’t have to. We should demand better from ourselves as well as our politicians but instead we find ourselves entertained by schoolyard bully tactics both in the media (And don’t blame them, it’s you that’s watching. They just give you what you want) and in social media. If you want to incite a spewing of hateful vitriol from your friends or followers it’s quite simple. Pick a hot button issue, express your opinion, and wait. Before long you will have a thread of people either agreeing or thinking up clever ways to call you ignorant without using the actual word or revealing themselves as racist or fake religion mongers.

We are supposed to be an advanced society, it’s about time we start acting like it. Demand responsible conversations with a common goal of finding a solution instead of a bunch of blowhard egotists pointing their fingers at each other. I’m talking about Politian as well as us friends, myself included. There are simply too many guns on the street, not an opinion, a reality. Take out the votes and money and find a compromise that includes allowing responsible gun owners to own guns. Not arsenals, but a responsible compromise. Stop whining that someone’s coming to take your guns away, defend your right to own by showing responsible methods of gun ownership, not everyone should have a gun. We could live with that, and so will a lot of other innocent people. Maybe some mandatory safety classes. We did it for cars, why not for guns? Religion? Freedom of religion also means freedom from religion. Go and practice (and I mean practice, not just quote your scriptures to fit your narrative) but don’t try to force your religion on me. Save yourself, not me, allow me to choose my religion. These are the tools we need to find solutions, not point fingers and call each other names.

I get it, I’m an unrealistic dreamer of peace, I still believe that the world can live together in harmony as one not because I’m naïve, but because I’m optimistic. But I’ll tell you this, without us idealists, us romantics and dreamers all you will be left with is a bunch as assholes pointing fingers at each other hurling insults and deciding who is to blame for fucking this world up completely. I’d rather die believing in a world where  peace is possible than live in a world without hope… Live in Peace, Love in peace……Believe!!



Neon Rain



Success inside a box of greed

Wall street weed

Cocaine and speed

Not enough… gimme more

A bright downpour

A capital gain

And neon rain

Give me your money

Praise my name

My checkbook commands you

Kneel in vain

Tremble in my presence

More important than god

More powerful than Satan

Praise me and be humble peasants

And don’t complain

For I am rich

In neon rain

So exalt his name

The one he got at birth

Made him what he’s worth

The family jet plane

Flying high above the glow

The flow

And pain

Of the neon rain

Pyrite darkness at his core

Gold running through his veins

Basking in the afterglow

Of his oft ill gotten gains

And neon rains

He took from us

Behold him majestic


So fantastic it’s drastic

But to me he’s plastic

Just a John Doe

Living in a condo

With stain glass windows

And alters of pain

Built from neon rain


Rising above you

Looking so handsome

So tan yet so vain

Basking from the glow

Of grimy neon rain

Monster dressed in silk

Beady rhinestone eyes

Heart of pyrite power

Deals in cheats and lies

Neon rain never falls

Never fails

Money prevails

Inside the Ivory tower

Above the neon shower

Thinks he’s immune to our distain

Lavish him in platinum

Uncork another magnum

Fill the chalice for his palace

With the sweat of our champagne

Behold him with his playthings

Hottest ladies on fine China

Diamond studded vagina

Stroked like a rigid ego

Everywhere that we go

Rich boys will be rich boys

Spreading prepaid toys

Over silk embroidered sheets

Where kink and pleasure meets

In bed with Cinderella

Covered in a gold umbrella

He cannot feel the distain

From the angry neon rain

So praise him

His money train

Or walk away wet

In the neon rain





JT’s Story Of Life







A Fairly Accurate Fairy Tale Selection by JT Hilltop


We can’t wait until our babies can talk until they can talk. That’s because once they start communicating the first thing they learn is how to ask questions. Not a question here and there but a barrage of never ending questions. “What’s sex Mom, what’s the finger mean Dad.” They wanna know everything about everything and the questions don’t stop, “Mommy, where do babies come from? Daddy, why were you moving furniture around last night?” Its just in the very fabric of our being to be inquisitive because even those unable to speak are curious. Inquiring mimes want to know.

Back when I was just a mere tadpole burning questions festered in my head as well. I drove my Mom and Dad crazy with an overwhelming curiosity. “Why do I have to eat spinach? Why do I have to put the seat up after I pee?” And so forth. Unfortunately the answers I usually got to real questions was go ask your mother or go ask your father but still I trusted that the two of them had the answers. Then one day I had an epiphany of sorts. If they give me the answers then who gives them the answers? Who the heck is explaining everything to them? Grandpa talks nonsense and Grandma just repeats herself so it can’t be them. Where the heck are Mom and Dad getting all the answers they give me? So I did what any curious young word detective would do, I launched my own investigation

. It seems they got their answers from some house like building they called church. Apparently this church place is only open on Sundays and in order to get in everyone had to be dressed up real nice. So I guessed that everyone who went to church got the answers to life if they got all dressed up. It’s some dude who wears a robe with a funny necktie thing they saw only once a week on Sunday that has the answers. He seems to be everyone’s father. The father stands up in front of everyone and talks, sometimes even scolds everyone. Then after yelling at them in an apparent attempt to make the parents feel better he makes us sing songs and repeat phrases like “amen” “and with you“ and the like. They pass around some baskets and people apparently either write their questions down in an envelope or they have to pay money to get answers. Mom even gave me a quarter to put in the basket so I assumed I had to save up enough money to get my answers from this father dude. After he finishes all his jabbering and singing he waits by the door to talk to everyone on the way out. I guessed he then gave them the answers to everything. But I had my doubts. I mean like why does this dude who dresses so damn strange seem to know everything? But this is the guy who gave my parents all the answers to all the questions of the world. This is the dude who told Mom where I came from, and told Dad how to make babies. But how does he know so much? I needed to find out. Another investigation.

I watched closer to see how it all works. First we all go into this huge room. A gigantic room actually, and this all knowing dude stands up on a kind of stage he calls the alter all lit up with candles. He stands at a podium and lectures everyone in the room, all of whom are sitting on these hard wooden bench like things. I don’t believe the designer gave any thought whatsoever about how peoples asses would feel just 5 minutes after sitting. I could see all of the kids and half of the Dads squirming around trying to find a position that doesn’t leave bruises on the cheek. That must be what they mean when they say turn the other cheek. Anyway this funny looking dude stands up there and tells stories about a long long time ago, tells us to open our song books and makes us sing songs. Then he gets mad and tells the adults how to live, which for us kids is the best part because its Mom and Dad getting some of the shit they give us constantly. But still, its boring as hell, which apparently is a word I can’t say even though its in that book the dude reads from. Is that where he gets all his info?










As it turns out he does know everything because it tells him in that special black book. it’s the Big Black Book of Everything he calls “The Bible” and it is considered by just about everyone to be the end all and be all of answers. Some people call it the holy bible. Funny word, if I heard a story with lots of holes in it I would think it’s a lie. Yet people put their hand on this book and swear to things and everyone else accepts that as absolute truth. It made me wonder what could make one book so damn powerful. If this book has the answers to everything and I read it myself I’ll know everything too. So I took a copy, which didn’t seem like a bad thing to me until Dad screamed when I got home and he saw it. Now I know what stealing is and that its wrong to steal. For one thing stealing results in an ass whooping, so you see, that book taught me something right from the start. I was learning already

I finally did read this Bible when I got older though, and what I did read absolutely amazed me. This book, this holy bible is filled with some very strange stories, even stranger than green eggs and ham. It was quite hard to read because even though the words were English words many of them made no sense. Like what is a begat? And why are so many people doing it? So I read it over and over until I could finally understand it. It was loaded with all kinds of rock throwing, sword fighting, and stories about whales and endless rains, and fights with whole buildings falling down and blood. Holy (there’s that funny word again) shite there’s a lot of blood. I wondered who wrote this Bible and why so I asked the Sunday dude with the funny collar how and when it was written. I have to tell you I was quite shocked when I found out. This shit was written thousands of years ago, and it is a kind of history book written by god. The story of Everything by God. Well he didn’t actually write it himself but it was his book, or as the father dude said his “word.” I think he had some holy ghost writers pen it for him but the first five books were written by this like four thousand year old bearded guy named “Mosey”. Not only did he write it, but he had a starring role in the second through fifth chapters. The rest was written by some out of work history teachers called scribes. That is until this Spanish guy named Jesus comes along, then all the different religions have different history books. But my interest was in the beginning, the first five books that seem to tell the story of everything. In the beginning when man created god in his own image. Or do I have that backwards? Maybe this Mosey dude was dyslexic. Somebody needs to spin these fantastic fables out.

So now that I’m fully grown and have an understanding of how all this church and Bible stuff work I decided I would spin this story with my own biblical proportions. I started thinking back to the time when my Mom and Dad would read me stories. All these wild fairy tales of ladies with hair so strong and long that a man could climb up her hair and save her, or a little girl that ventured into the house of a family of bears. Bears who ate porridge and slept in beds. There was a cross dressing wolf dressed as a grandma, houses made of candy, and even three little pigs who each made their houses from different things, one straw, one wood, and one was apparently a freemason who built his with bricks. All the stories were quite harmless really, and very entertaining to a young child. And I had no clue at the time, but these stories had more than just entertainment values they taught me something. They taught me about what my parents called morals. The moral of this story is don’t steal, or the moral of that story is to be considerate of others and be good, be home by midnight or whatever. The point is the purpose of those stories was to teach me what’s right and what’s wrong in a way my young mind could comprehend. As I got older of course I realized that pigs can’t talk let alone build brick houses, and bears live in caves and shit in the woods, and they don’t even like porridge. I learned things from these stories even though they were completely made up. It was just a way to get me to understand right from wrong in a way I could understand at the time. But now that I’m grown up they still expect me to believe in a garden with the first two people ever and some evil talking snake., a man building an ocean liner called an ark and grabbing two of each animal, insects, birds, all of them, and gave them their own rooms. Some kind of floating creature hotel filled with honeymoon suites. It floated around with them for forty days and forty nights while it rained continuously. Somehow they all ate, but not each other. The lions played with the lambs and the crickets and the birds and none of them gave into the temptation for forty days. It got me thinking about these bible stories. What if the funny collar dude was making up stories like The Brothers Grimm did? What if it is just stories written by his mom and dad to help teach him right from wrong? I mean it makes sense, right? Just like Rapunzle, or Rumplestiltskin, or Goldilocks. Maybe these stories of Adam, and Eve, and Noah, and Cain and Able were just fairytales to teach him morals.. What if they are really made up stories written to explain to the children of thousands of years ago how to behave and how to treat each other? And of course how everything came to be?

It brought me to an internal understanding. This bible, this holy book, is nothing more than the history of humans as told by the people who first learned to write. Most of these biblical tales are merely a recounting of stories that were told around campfires or homes around an area of land we call the fertile crescent. Now I need to rewrite these first five stories in the bible in way we can all relate to in more modern times. I need to write my own big black book, JT’s Story Of Everything. Bring it on!