PRIMORDIAL BRAIN STEW

Space-Oddity

Thoughts On The Evolution Of Revolution The Leading Cause Of Sleep Pollution

Not sure where I’m going with this yet cuz it’s a work in progress but there’s a new thought bouncing around this cauldron of a disjointed and sometimes warped thought container that prevents me from indulging my desire to enter my nocturnal trance. My insomnia is also a work in progress defined as “a chronic sleep disorder characterized by inability to suspend consciousness allowing the mind and body to restore.” Wow, sounds so much worse when I read it back. Whatever. I define it as having mind numbing bullshit stuck in my head that keeps me from sleeping at night. What sort of devious subject matter can force me into mentally pacing the floor while dredging up uneeded concerns with global implications? War.
War is a fact of life. It even precedes the tribes of Cro-Magnon beings raiding other tribes for food. (and of course sex). For humans however, since those bloody disagreements wars have been fought for a variety of reasons. Arbitrary and imaginary lines of property ownership, imaginary kingdoms or beings (gods), or someone’s greed, jealousy, and/or revenge. Why do we war? A primordial power struggle to determine the alpha male? An architectural power struggle to dermine who has the largest erection. A states desire to improve its citizens lifestyles by dominating and owning someone else’s? Are we pre-destined to war just to establish dominance, to have dominion over all others? It does seem that way with the military of various countries engaging in penis waving contests. Wave a flag, wave a penis, same thing. An attempt to prove that our cannons are bigger than their cannons and our missiles stand higher than their puny little projectiles. Many believe war determines who best to control the world while others believe its is necessary to control population and economic stability.
This existentialist believes that our innate need for war isn’t just about insecure governments in pissing contests but that it’ a necessary facet for the survival and natural progression of our species. A necessity of evolution. Part of the evolutionary cycle which forces us into a new environment giving us reason to blaze trails of the seemingly impossible. To boldly go where no species has gone before. Just like when our water dwelling ancestors left the security of the ocean to brave a new existence on land so long ago. Those brave gill breathing creatures that first ventured out and evolved fins into legs an arms, and gills into lungs. Not some cheesy mutation like the Creature From The Black Lagoon but much more spectacular creature that would evolve into millions of other land dwellers.
In the beginning there was just a bare ocean begging for life but over time a combination of coincidences happened forming an organism. Out of the primordial stew life was born. A single cell organism which duplicated itself over and over. Natures first cloning experiment. Somewhere along the line one organism broke out of the code of duplicate single cell life-forms and mutated. The result was a two celled organism just itching to mutate some more. Variety, the splice of life. More mutations occurred and suddenly, well not suddenly more like over the course of millions of years, the ocean was filled with all kinds of mutated multi-celled organisms of various size and shape all vying for their chance to rule the water-world. What do these organisms need to survive? Water, food, and procreation. So the mutations adapted in glorious and phenomenal ways to reach the main goal, survival of the species. Some evolved into faster and larger organisms, and developed appendages for better hunting abilities. The rule of life was born, survival of the fittest The smaller organisms became prey and were forced into shallow water where they were safer. The oversized large fuckers couldn’t get that close to shore so the shorelines became a haven for the small and disenfranchised. Unfortunately the shallow waters soon got over run with runts with tiny fins and dorsal envy so food became scarce. Then the very first organism bravely left the water in search of a better life. More and more species adapted to breathing air and the appendages became used for locomotion. New survival strategies were forged as these species evolved in their brave new world. All kinds of strategies for hunting, hiding, defenses, and protecting the propagation of their species. Strategies of ensuring the survival of their young became a challenge so land strategies were formed from laying hundreds of eggs, to burying eggs, all the way up to having eggs hatch in utero when the species had only one or two offspring and needed to protect it from predators until gestation. All sorts of adaptations were formed in attempt to continue living.
Fast forward to dinosaurs who were too big and clumsy and just fucked up all the vegetation. A random asteroid knocked the shit out of everything and newer and smaller species survived and evolved from slug, to monkey, to human. Now the earth is once again becoming overrun and our natural resources are in danger of disappearing. What better way for the self proclaimed owners of earth to thin the crowd than to legally kill off a lot of weaker humans. So war kills off the poor and the weak leaving more food and room for those fucking alpha’s. Don’t hold your breath waiting for the meek to inherit this shit, they don’t want it.
That’s the kind of shit that keeps me up at night. Pondering deep questions like war and evolution. It also leads to some shit dreams, not the cool one that leave you all “What in the fuck was that all about” in the morning. Instead I lay awake troubled whether or not wars and overpopulation are tools of evolution designed to force us out of this comfort zone called earth and on to other planets.
The conclusion I arrived at after a number of sleepless nights is war is necessary and natural. Not to worry I’m still a hippie pacifist and I’m against war, I merely view it differently these days. If we are going to continue as a species we need to get off our asses and go to infinity and beyond! That’s the true and practical purpose war serves, thinning out the population sure, but it will force us to expand our explorations with great abandon to have a suitable planet on which to survive. Someday all those weapons of mass destruction will be fuel sources of mass migration and our lungs may evolve to breath carbon dioxide, our bodies to function free from gravitational requirement. That would be heavy! The explosive nature of our inventions will be used to propel us into space instead of into oblivion. Man I wish I would be around to see that day. And as always its science that will lead the way. It was my love of science that brought me to this conclusions. The science of microbiology.
So what’s been keeping me awake many nights is something that can’t even be seen with the naked eye. Not even the scantily clad eye can catch a glimpse of these micro-organisms. Sometimes its the tiniest of things can be the deadliest and bring down the most powerful of giants. A war is waged from the moment you are born and will continue long after you die right inside your body on a battlefield you need a microscope to view. You have a fully staffed army of billions and billions of anti-body troops poised to engage in war to protect you from microbial massacre. And those microbes are just as determined to end your reign of existence and become food for them to feed their starving families. Damn man, as if knowing tiny spiders crawl in my mouth while I snore isn’t bad enough, now I lose sleep knowing those diminutive demons may be a vehicle for something even smaller, more deadly and after viewing what bacteria look like under a microscope, by far much creepier than the meek arachnids…..Sleep well

Don’t Forget To Wipe Your Opinion When You’re Finished

opinion

PSA on DICKS awareness
Opinions are like religions, everybody has one. Actually, religions are opinions and that’s why we hate the holy piety pushers as much as the opinionated asses. Imagine if someone came knocking at your door to tell you if you vote for gun control you will burn in hell? But some people feel an obligation to spread, even threaten everlasting damnation in the name of their faith, or let everyone else know how wrong and ignorant they are on political issues. In the end religion can’t be proven so its an opinion. Is Jesus is the son of God, did Moses lead your people from Egypt, or has Allah spoken to Mohammed. Vishnu, Krishna, Siddhartha, whoever the god of the moment its only an opinion. I suppose that’s why religion is as hotly debated as right and left wing politics.
Religion and opinions can be of value when used properly. For many people religion is the only hope they have and a good political debate can shine a light on both sides of an emotional coin. But forcing your opinion or religion on someone else makes one a condescending arrogant asshole. But studies have shown that this may not be their fault, they may have little to no control over how they air their opinions or religious beliefs in either public or on the internet. Someone who suffers from this may be actually have an obscure disease called Delusional Idiots and Conceited Know-it-all Syndrome (DICKS), in which they have a compulsion to inject their faith and/or opinion into every forum. Very often they feel compelled to force their political opinions or core faith values in every social media post. Here’s some examples:

I) Post- “Had a wonderful trip down memory lane visiting my old hometown.” Mostly lots of happy replies, but one suffering DICKS may add, “It used to be a great before all those lazy illegal’s moved in.” or “Too many shootings there these days, but if they want to shoot each other they will find guns anyway so don‘t take away my guns, a law won‘t change anything.” Delete that shit.
2) Post- “Just got back from the hospital and feeling much better.” Most responses are supportive, but someone with DICKS may say “You wouldn’t feel so bad if it wasn’t for Obamacare, he’s ruining the nation with his socialism” Delete that shit
3) Post- “Had a great time at Busch Gardens.” DICKS.. “Garden my ass, Bush knew about the attacks all along and did nothing. The worst president ever!! Delete that shit
4) Post “I am so happy for my son, he is now able to legally marry the man he loves” Friends will join in a celebration without judgment but a DICKS challenged person will say “The bible says a man can not lie with another man as he would a woman. Homosexuality is an abomination”, conviently leaving out the parts of the bible about killing one who does, loving each other, or all children being gods children. Delete that blasphemes shit
5) Post-“Wahooo…just won ten thousand bucks in the lottery!” Normal folks happy but DICKS “Well God must have wanted you to win for some reason. Why he chose a sinner like you is beyond me, you’re going straight to hell. Unless of course you convert, you can start by donating to my church“…Delete that shit.

Anyway, you get the idea, and I’m sure you know someone who feels compelled to blame the worlds problems on a Liberal Socialist trying to ruin our country, or an out of touch Conservative who wants to go back to the fifties. Or you know someone who praises god every time fortune blows its fate their way but curses the lousy horoscope of the day.
I love a debate, but a true debate involves open minded people expressing views on a particular subject in a civil manner. But these poor afflicted individuals enter into debates uninvited and unaware that their minds have already been made up and no further discussion is needed. Doctors advise that you not engage these misguided assholes, but do your best to ignore them. They won’t go away, but you can have fun watching them get really pissed off when no one cares, listens, or responds. Here are some of the warning signs of early onset of DICKS:

1. People afflicted with DICKS believe that the universe exists only for their enjoyment
2. DICKS is often accompanied by a compulsion to watch opinion based TV shows disguised as All News Networks
3. People suffering with DICKS give out free advice but are incapable off following any.
4. Often acting as judge jury and executioner the poor schmuck with DICKS feels there is never justice.
5. People with DICKS very often begin their statements with line like, “I’m not a racist but…or Wake up! If you really knew what was going on…”

These are a few of the warning signs but in general doctors recommend avoiding people that have a tendency towards narcissism or project an over inflated ego. The best way to keep DICKS out of your life is to avoid them at all costs and not engage them. Chronic sufferers should be unfriended or at the very least hidden so as not to infect your real friends who are not DICKS and enjoy your time on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or any other medium these sick individuals tend to frequent. Remember, these individuals are ill and the disease causes them to stalk the internet in search of arguments, and if they can‘t find one will turn an innocent thread into a political or religious statement. They may friend you, your friends, or other people or groups just to have an opportunity to debase others so beware. Finally be patient, and as hard as it may be do not, I repeat DO NOT use sarcasm. They seldom understand it, it seems to go over their heads, and it only frustrates them inflaming their condition causing them to become even bigger DICKS than they already are. Don’t let this obscure disease ruin your good times. IGNORE, UNFRIEND, and continue to live a good life without them. Peace….

I Really Dig The Big Wheels Can I Take It Out For A Testosterone Drive?

monster-truck

An Average Joe May Be Above Average
“Check out how much power this bad boy has.” I think that’s what the truck salesman was screaming over the obnoxious babbling engine but it may have been distorted. When the roar took short break I queried, “Do you have anything a little less phallic and a bit more practical?” I was looking to buy a small truck, not make a statement of overcompensation but this salesman was bent on selling this huge truck with huge wheel and a huge roar that screamed ’don’t look at my small bulge but check out this monster extension of my inadequacy.”
OK really, what’s up with that? Are women in general turned on by loud greasy engines? I mean I’m not a ten inch stud or the owner of a powerful crank case of grinding gears but I have sufficient equipment and what’s more important I know how to use that equipment to get the most out of it. I think back on how idiotic our high school days were, and how we believed we could compensate for our awkwardness of dating by playing a guitar, or driving a muscle car, or something else that formulated a false sense of manhood. But I couldn’t carry a note, couldn’t play an instrument, was uninterested in sports, and lacked self confidence. But I did have a job in a restaurant so at least I had some money, plus I was learning to cook.
My ever helpful Mom suggested I take Home Economics where I could hone my culinary attributes. But back then a class in Home Ec only assured a male of a daily ass kicking and constant public humiliation. I gave it two seconds of thought after Mom assured me I would be in a class full of females. But I had done that by taking typing last year without achieving any carnally enhancing benefits. I made many suggestions to the young maidens but the girls were only interested in my carriage release or ribbon spool, not my nimble typing technique. I didn’t become adept at typing or even get a phone number from that class. Although I admit it was my favorite class and being one of only three guys it was uplifting to garner the attention I so craved.
So I didn’t go to Home Ec, but I did continue to learn to cook at the restaurant while the chicks were all dating the guys in rock bands, the guys with GTO’s, or the football team (No, not the whole team pervert). So those artificially enhanced materialistic dudes all fought over the plastic popular chicks while us average Joes dated the average Jill’s, which in the long run was better anyway.
The funny thing about the football stars, muscle heads, hot car owners, and wannabe rock stars is when they got into the thirty something’s that’s all they really had. I on the other hand could cook and when I reached my thirties that was what the ladies found sexy. Keep your monster truck dude, I am serving sautéed Chilean Sea Bass with a Beaujolais saffron sauce, asparagus macadamia, and Pomes Anna with a perfectly chilled Gewürztraminer wine and the ladies who enjoyed that were intelligent, sophisticated, and beautiful with very little interest in the size of my pick up or biceps. So who’s chuckling now?
I had a small studio apartment in New York City near Madison Square Garden and one of the intricacies of my crib, I mean aside from having my bed right there in my kitchen/dining room, was a nice view for people watching. On one particular evening as I was entertaining, my date and I watched as people who had parked their car near by headed out to The Garden to attend a Monster Truck Rally. We watched and it took all my self control not to point at some overweight, sloppy looking thirty something’s on a mission to get inside, and I can’t be 100% sure but I think one dude with a bad haircut and beer belly that would make Buddha cringe was the star quarterback of my high school. Walking alongside him no longer cheering, was his high school sweetheart. I couldn’t help thinking how much they deserved each other both now and back in the day.
I asked the salesman to shut off the engine so he could hear me good when I said no thanks. I decided I didn’t even want the stupid truck at all because it just isn’t me, and being myself was better revenge than I could possibly have planned even if I had wanted to. Now every time I see someone in a pick up with wheels better off on a tractor with spikes on the rims, or a ridiculously oversize Hummer style vehicle, or any other car designed to take attention away from the owners “short comings” and place the focus on their ride I smile and give them the thumbs up, because they need more reassuring than an average Joe like me.

The Garden Of Heathen

eden

Evolution is the story of how everything came to be what it came to be, like our ability to communicate. From simple grunts, to pictures and words we evolved our communicative skills to near perfection. But the Bible was written in the third century based on tales heard many years before that. What I’m saying here is I can’t take the story literally because communication hadn’t evolved enough back then so the way it was told back in Constantine’s era. I mean shit man it was told by dudes with names like Theodosius, Diocletian, and Ezana so how reliable can it really be? Take Genesis for example, the story of how man and woman became lovers to create life. Or was it the scandalous story of a biracial copulating couple? I mean even Theodosius wasn’t naïve enough to believe that two humans popped up out of nowhere. Well actually one popped up, the other happened to have the perfect receptacle. Adam and Eve weren’t the first man andd woman to enjoy the ins and outs of sex, but they were essential to evolution because they fucked themelves into the most important mutation, the mutilation created from two separate races. So toss out your often told story of The origin of man and let me give you the up to date tale of Adam an Eve.
Just as animals evolved into other animals, so did we evolve from some sort of animal. Simians. Similar in shape to our tree dwelling ancestors we walk upright on two legs and use our hands as tools. So the original peoples of the earth evolved from animals and grew up in tribes. Each tribe or community took care of itself, its only purpose was to reproduce thereby keeping the tribe alive. Survival. That was the key. Most tribes were hunters or scavengers, either killing and eating animals, or scavenging the vegetation already here on earth. However, in an area we now call the Middle East, the so-called fertile crescent, two tribes stood out amongst all others. They had become far more advanced than most other tribes. These two tribes used reason and logic, and figured out a way to survive working together as a colony. One tribe, The Aggies, learned how to manipulate the vegetation and grow it at will using soil, sun and water. With complex systems of irrigation they farmed the land and became prolific growers. The other tribe, The Shepherds, learned how to manipulate the cattle and sheep, and penned them up creating a seemingly endless supply of milks and meats. They used complex systems of herding and became prolific meat manipulators. These two tribes habituated a very large area which was called the Garden of Eden. They didn’t like each other because they were so different, the Aggies out farming in the sun all ay had a darker complexion and more muscular features, and the Shepherds had lighter skin tones and blond hair. In the interests of co-habitating the naturaly rich and fertile Garden of Eden they used their logic and reason to devise boundaries which they agreed not to cross. So the Aggies habitated in the soil rich North section of Eden and the Shepherds the South. Both tribes kept to themselves and existed peacefully until one incident set off a series of events that would forever change the world.
One of the Aggies, a young adventurous male decided to take a walk in the area that was designated as no mans land which neither tribe considered valuable. He came across a small waterhole in which an exotic young woman was bathing. He didn’t recognize her so he knew she must be one of the sneaky Shepherds and when he looked closely at her something seemed to tickle his toggle switch. She looked much like he did only fairer in skin and hair which seemed oddly enticing She had a pale yet smooth almost silken complexion and long colorless long hair bursting with long waving curls. She had eyes of bright turquoise which seemed to sparkle like evening stars. He found her rather attractive stealing a glancas she bathed with water glistening off her exposed white breasts. It made his stomach queasy in a kind of playful way. More than that, there was something downright intriguing about this woman. He spied her with great delight and began to wondering if she was like the women of Aggies in other ways. Okay, let me spell it out for you. He began feel that all too familiar tingling of the loins that cause men to lose control. He began to wonder if she enjoyed the pleasures of sex in the same manner women of his tribe had enjoyed him and envisioned what it would be like to have her in his bed. He imagined making wild unbridled passionate love to her. Considering the times, perhaps it was bridled sex, but whatever, she made him horny as….. For lack of a better term, all Hell. Both his mind and his hanging cha began to swell and he turned away to allow both to subside, promising himself a return visit.
More than jus a visit this young farmer began wandering down to the waterhole every day and watched from the cover of brush as she bathed herself getting more and more horny each day. He stared in awe until one day he needed to till her soil so he got up enough nerve to confront her. “Young maiden of the Shepherds, why do you come here each day an sit naked in this waterhole?” 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 flattered and just as curious as he was. She too had experienced a tingling sensation in her nether regions and every bit as interested in exploring carnal possibilities. “I come here to bath myself land tiller, not to be stared at by some Aggie hiding in the brush. Why do you come here and 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 which 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 an share my bed with me.” 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 the winds of caution had blown enough of his loincloth away to reveal his desire. He approached the watering hole with a modicum of trepidation and a mountain of spunk. She held out her hand and he accepted and they both shuddered ever so slightly. He dropped his loincloth completely exposing that the fruit underneath it was ripe for the picking. He stepped naked into the waterhole beside her with his rake pointed the direction. For five minutes they stared at each other while cleansing every inch of their bodies. They dedicated special attention to the areas that demanded intense inspection with eyes sparkling of curious wonder. The Aggie closed his eyes and allowed this maiden, this Shepherd woman to slowly and methodically polish his purple headed mushroom stem. “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 mouth organ exercise regimen 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, fluids oozed, and soft moaning was the only form of communication. Of course the two lovers understood they braved the scorn of their fellow tribe members by allowing their naked bodies to exchange these biological fluids. But it felt so crazy good they did indeed continue to explore each other and exchange passion and bodily fluids. Four times. It wasn’t until after the fourth 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, “Life indeed Eve, you have breathed much of it into me unequaled by any other Aggie I have ever known.”
So Adam and Eve began to meet each other every day and made 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. 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 happy, humming songs and whistling show tunes, and showed no interest in even the most handsome of Shepherds.
It would be another ten or so centuries before the world became aware of sex amongst the same gender so Eve’s apparent disinterest in men was incredibly suspicious, and in the Aggie camp Adam was also considered an anomaly. As it happened that the suspicious leaders of each tribe sent someone to follow their respective tribe member delinquents on the very same day. Once at the watering hole, the Aggie spy hid in the north woods, and 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 such wonderful new tricks specific to their tribe that it became more of a show. The very first live sex show, no tokens needed. It is believed at least one, perhaps even both had become so excited while watching that they pleasured themselves before retuning to the tribe leaders to give the reports.
With soiled loincloths the spies, Cain and Abel, returned to their chiefs. The tribe leaders were livid. Furious! How could this possibly happen? It was the most outrageous act that had ever occurred anywhere in the crescent. A violation of fertilizing a Shepherds love crescent. They both paced, in different colonies yet somehow in unison, until the sinners returned to their folds. The minute Adam returned to the Shepherd 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 scum sucker 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 fiction, they met at the very same moment and exchanged stories of banishments.
So hand in hand Adam and Eve left, banished from the Garden of Eden forever. Eve had allowed the serpent to penetrate her glory forest and nothing would ever be the same. In shame they walked out of The Garden Of Heathen forever, Eve holding in her free hand the apple Adam had grown for her, and with his free hand Adam held the metaphoric snake, which Eve had skillfully and completely herded.

You Say You Want A Revelation, Well Ya Know (another sick bastard bible selection)

1776_Albrecht-Durer-The-Revelation-of-St-John-12-The-Sea-Monster-and-the-Beast-with-the-Lambs-Horn-628x304

part one

The last one picked is the one no one really wants on the team and Revelations was the last one picked for the Bible. Coincidence? Maybe, or maybe Revelations was too fat, too slow, or too uncoordinated or no one liked it. Maybe it jut flat out sucked! Of course there’s only one way to find out. Investigation. So here it comes the Christian Scripture Investigators. The CSI team is here to find the DNA and other forensic tidbits hidden in the scriptures. Maybe even trace elements like epithelia’s, fingerprints, or secret documents to uncover the truth behind the book of all things. This episode we will investigate the truth behind the final frontier of the bible, revelations.
The main players in this tale of apocalyptic reckoning are somewhat questionable. Written by John of Pathos where he was known as the pathological prophet of Pathos. The story as he tells it includes the four headless horsemen of Sleepy Hollow, the Liar of Judah, angels, trumpeters, the beast, a dragon, a false prophet, an arched angel, and of course no bible story would be complete without a whore, this one straight outta Babylon.
The book of revelations is somewhat difficult to tell because its told in some unusual circumstances. The story was revealed to this tripped out dude John, who was locked up in prison in Pathos on a drug related beef. He was a prolific writer who had already had a number of stories published in the New Testament. A few under the epistle category, and a gospel song called Psalm 43 (The P has the right to remain silent). Many religious scholars say it was actually 3 different Johns but if I get into bible discrepancies I’ll never get to this investigation. The truth as he told it to me goes like this. One evening while studying in the prison library John had a visitor. A woman who looked alarming similar to Mary Magdalene though she denies it three times. This visitor had placed a very powerful tab or two of LSD (legal at that time) in her mouth and transferred it to Johns mouth in a disgusting public display of spit swapping French kisses. A face sucking tongue tangoing, snog toggle, The ultimate French kiss whose true purpose was to exchange the hallucinogenic treat. When John got back to his cell, and after his bulge subsided (Really don’t drop the soap now!!) he was visited and told a story by god. I had a similar reverse episode once, after ingesting a chemical mind tickler I learned that god took some acid and saw me! Another day.
So during his intense peeking (I think that’s what people on acid trips call it when the trip hit’s a crescendo), that was when god suddenly said to John, “Dude, you wanna hear about the future of mankind?” Stupid question, of course he did. He was tripping after all. So this story was how John best remembered the telling some 18 hours after the acid wore off. That’s some powerful shit there! This is the book of Reservations. Reverberation. Revolution. ….Sorry, The Book of Revelations!
Here it is in his very own paraphrased words as he told it to me one day back in the late 60’s:
“So Mary and I kissed and I could feel two tabs of something on her tongue. Yea I know she said it wasn’t her but she just didn’t want to end up on the front page of the Abraham Inquirer. An let me tell you the J-man was one lucky Jew she was one helluva kisser. Anyway She tells me to swallow, something you don’t normally wanna hear in prison, so I swallows the tab. Then she tells me I just took two tabs of Blue Cheer acid. Man I was stoked. I smiled all the way back to my cell knowing what was coming. I got to my cell and laid down on my stone cot. After about a half hour I hear this voice. I sit up an 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. So 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 voice was like soft and almost girly. Not the powerful deep voice you’d think God would have but he insists. ‘Really John, its me God’ Then he steps out from the shadows and sure enough it is God. Amazing how much Jesus looked like him. Spittin’ image. What else could I do? I sez, whats up God?”
“He walks through the bars, I mean right through, like they wasn’t even there. Then he sez, ‘John, I want to tell you a story. I want you to write it down and make sure everyone reads it.’ I sez to him, you mean like a bestseller or something? To which he replies, ‘yea, something like that. But first try and get the story into the bible, because this is the story of the beginning and the end.’ Now I’m really thinking the acid is slamming the insides of my brain but I figger I should like play along and sez yea yea sure Mr. Almighty, whatever you sez.”
“When I first created everything I had seven arch angels to watch over heaven and protect it. Six of these arches were cool, but one arch angel was just a real pain in the ba-donk-a-donk. Has to do everything his way and refused to follow my directions. Finally one day I caught him in bed with Gabriel’s teenage daughter and that was the last straw. I tossed his ass out and straight down to earth along with one third of the questionable residents of heaven. He went down to earth with them and they formed a gang calling themselves the Crypts. He goes to the garden of Eden and begins recruiting humans for his gang. So I had Gabriel, a very trusted angel form a gang up here because I knew there would someday be a major showdown. 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, Bloods vs. Crypts. One day we would have our gang lords get together for an epic showdown. This showdown will be called The Rapture.”
“Now I’m still tripping but I’m starting to think maybe this shit is real so 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 fuck am I supposed to get up there, but before I even thought about a strategy I was lifted off my feet and floating 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. Al Hirt,Loius Armstrong,Wynton Marsalas, Miles Davis,Chuck Mangione,Maynard Fererson, and Dizzy Gillespie. Not just ordinary musicians each stood with a trumpet in their hands. The seven Trumpeters. They jammed for about an hour and that’s when the real show started!”

Weiner Lets It All Hang Out

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Weiner Takes Da Bait
No the real headline is not Weiner takes debate, but he was feisty as hell so if you missed it on TV I have my own re-cap here. The front runner is Christine Quinn and Weiner was in Christine’s face throughout the debate. Bill Thompson stood tall and was inching closer but Weiner measured up. Public Advocate Bill de Blasio hammered away at Weiner’s ability to represent the people of New York but he assured everyone that Weiner will stand up for all New Yorkers. Comptroller John Liu expressed concern over Anthony’s transparency to which Tony replied “I have always been transparent. Anyone can see where Weiner stands.” The stage set, on to the debate.
First Weiner’s opening statement. “My name is Anthony Weiner, no relation to Oscar Meyer Weiner, and I am running for mayor because I have swag, and as recent tweeted evidence has shown I have the balls needed to run this city. True my pole has been sagging, um, I mean I have been sagging in the poll numbers but with a little help from my constituents it’ll get it back up again. I know my past indiscretions keep popping up but just to be clear no matter how hard it gets I will not pull out. I’ll stick it out as long as I can. I intend to show New Yorkers everything I’ve got. New York City is a hard town and they need a hard mayor which is what I‘ll be when erected. Oops, I mean elected, a slight boner in my choice of words. Anyway, New York is full of danger and trust me I know danger. In fact my middle name is Danger, so vote for me, Anthony “Carlos Danger” Weiner. Thank you.
The greeting was met with a splattering. That is a splattering of applause and a few Bronx cheers. Now on to a condensed re-cap of the issues. The first subject was the stop and frisk law.
Quinn : “ I’m okay with the frisking but not the stopping, if I’m elected they will have to frisk while the random pedestrian is still moving. New York is a busy town.”
De Blasio : “My wife is black and my son is half black with a big ass afro to prove it, so it could be my son with a cops hand down his pants. No to frisking”
Thompson : “What the hell, are we truly going to allow our police officers to act like TSA agents? This is America where no one is randomly searched unless they are in a busy airport. Just like the large soda and the poop pick up law Mayor Bloomberg saw the poop on the sidewalk and overstepped again.”
Liu :“I’ve seen this epic fail in Chinatown. If they continue to act on this dumb law everybody will be Kung Fu fighting, which is a little bit frightening.
Weiner :“From the beginning I stated cops should wear cameras and I stand by that. I say frisk like nobody’s watching, but take a selfie to send to that special someone.”
On to the next issue, a viewer question, a matter of trust. directed to Weiner. “How can we trust you when we find out you continued your activity even after you were busted?”
Weiner : “I have been up front from the beginning about my personal life. I did a bad thing and I was sick. Now I keep my hand on the problem everyday and have kept it down. It has been a long time since I sent any dick picks to anyone, almost an entire month now of not sexting. You can trust me to have matters in hand and keep it in constant motion. I have been endorsed by Woody Allen, Roman Pole-ansky, Marcia Gay Hard-on, and A-Rod to name a few and I am a member of members only so I will keep my finger on the pulse. Forget my past, look at my future.
Quinn :“You can tell he’s lying by the vein bulging, and not in his neck. He can hide behind the podium but fro here I see his problem growing. Its not just about trusting Weiner to keep it in his pants though, its about lying. I have it on good source that Weiner is at least two inches smaller than his claims. If he’s gonna lie about his dick size he can’t be trusted.”
De Blasio : “Look size doesn’t matter, just ask my son. He’s a half black man with a cool afro to prove it yet he has a portion of him that is half white, mainly his power drill, and he still gets down wit da bitches.”
Thompson :“Hey look, I can drop trow with the best of them but you need to know when to hold it and when to fold it, and Weiner just don’t fold his.”
Liu :“If Weiner is erected everybody will be Kung Fu fighting, which is a little bit frightening.”

Wow they all brought their big guns to that topic, lotta hostility here, now on to the final topic, the economy, and how will they create jobs.

Thompson :“What we need in New York is to have all taxi drivers self deport, so we can hire real New Yorkers in their place. That will be a huge boost to the economy.
De Blasio: “To create jobs in the city I propose making tax laws 50% more complicated especially for the rich who will be forced to hire our creative New York accountants to better hide their money. Companies like H&R Block will thrive and hire. Also I‘m gonna ask every fast food worker to chip in one dollar each to add to the city surplus. My wife is black and my son is half black with a killer afro and he works at Mickey Dee’s. He said one dollar would not be a strain on him, especially if he can take it out of the allowance we give him.”
Weiner :“Elect me and I promise more construction of clubs like Hooters, Scores, and my new company, ’Sexts and the City’, a self text club that guarantees anonymity. There are so many young co-eds in the city that need those jobs to work their way through college. By the way, if any of you young co-eds need part time work send me a text and I’ll hook you up.”
Liu : “I propose to bring the club scene of the eighties back which stimulates the economy by creating a tourist trap of dance clubs. Once finished, much like the eighties, everybody will be Kung Fu fighting.”

That wrapped up the questions, to save time I will just recap Weiner’s final statement.
“I want to thank Eyewitness News for such penetrating questions. I have never been afraid of penetration and I am happy to wrap my head around them every chance I get. So here’s me promise in a nutsack. Oops, I mean nutshell. The people of New York deserve a mayor who is in touch with the youth, and no one had touched more youth’s than me. The economy need stimulating and no one knows stimulation better than I do. The city needs someone who isn’t afraid to show everyone they are willing to stand up and I have proof of standing up in front of anyone. New York was at one time the fornication capital of the world, and if I’m elected I promise you New York will get fucked royally. Please vote for me, Anthony “Carlos Danger” Weiner. I’ll always be just a phone number away.

Lovers gonna love & Haters gonna hate–Savers gonna Save but Liberals liberate

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Those goddamn liberals are gonna ruin our country. What? Wait, let think this through a minute in terms I hope even the oldest whitest 50’s value clinging paranoid can understand. Words. Terrorist, one who inflicts terror, as a means to control. Terrorist would like to ruin the country, that’s clear enough. But how could a liberal ruin a country. Liberals seek to liberate, to create a power balance in which all share equal value and opportunity in a society. Kinda like Jesus did. Jesus was a liberal, at least according to the lame-stream media of his time, The daily scriptures. Was he trying to ruin the Fertile Crescent? In the dictionary liberal is defined as favorable to progress or reform. Favorable, not destructive. Terrorist-terror, Liberal-liberate. Women’s lib didn’t ruin the country it made it better, with many powerful women adding greatly to our society. Liberate the oppressed, that’s basic. Liberals believe in freedom and not just to other liberals but to all. Even conservatives.
Ah yes, conservatives. The very ones who use the word liberal to project an image of peace loving, tree hugging, environment caring, do nothings who would ruin the country by striving for racial equality, gender equality, a clean global eco-system and worst of all, world peace. What does the dictionary say about this odd group of take it or leave it change resisting conservatives? Conservative, disposed to preserving existing conditions or institutions, to limit change. Who would want to limit change? Obviously if one likes the way things are they wouldn’t want anything to change, wouldn’t want to liberate anyone. Not like that long haired liberal from Nazareth, someone different. Oh yea, King Herod. Lets face it, Herry had his choice of women, lived in a huge palace and was surrounded by wealth and power. Who wouldn’t want things to remain the same if that’s how life is for you? Conservatives conserve and that’s what they do. What they are best at conserving is money and power, and they prefer to conserve it all for themselves. They resist change because that would mean others may have equal value or opportunity and well, they want to conserve it all for themselves.
Not too long ago liberal was a derogatory term spat out with distain. Stinking liberals, bleeding heart liberals. In ’73 I had to choose which party to register as in order to vote, which made no sense to me at all. Why does everyone else have to know what party I believe in. But I dutifully followed the rules and marked my self down as a member of the liberal party partially out of spite to my staunch republican Dad and partially out of my own pure rebellious nature. When my conservative father found out we elevated our “disagreements” from my hair length to my disgracing of the family by becoming a liberal. I was warned it would follow me around like bad body odor. I wore that stench proudly in 1973, and I wear it proudly today. Politically I am liberal but I don’t define myself or others through a religious or political microscope because that’s what we believe not what we are. If you’re and atheist or a bible waving Christian that’s fine, but if you’re an asshole its not because of what you believe, but HOW you believe. Don’t force your beliefs on anyone else, enjoy them for yourself, allow other to enjoy their. The same in politics, if you’re a tea bagging homophobe its not because you’re a republican, you’re just an asshole. You can believe in the republican party without discriminating or fearing people unlike yourself. My Dad was staunch republican as I said, but I will credit him with having the sense to breakdown the stereo-types without sacrificing his core beliefs. It took time and a lot of nudging from me but in the end he understood we are not defined by our unconventional appearance, lifestyle, or religious practice. In name we are all human, and if you feel you must judge, judge not by political or religious beliefs, but by deeds and actions. I believe mine are worthy of any religious or political movement, but more importantly could be accepted as beneficial to humanity.

Asking Fellow Writers For Help

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Fellow bloggers and writers I am requesting your input and advice. It has taken me many years to work up the courage to really share my ramblings and musings but I have reached a point where I want to reach out and share my twisted view of life through storytelling. I am ready to attempt to publish some short stories in either in magazines or on e-readers or any other medium but have no clue where to even begin. Writing has always been more of a hobby for me shared with only close friends, and growing up prior to the information explosion I have limited mastery of electronics and cyber worlds. I am asking anyone willing to check out this excerpt below and offer any serious and honest critiquing and any assistance on how I may go about publishing some work. Either way thank you and keep on writing….PEACE

COSMO AND THE GARDEN EARTH
(A guide to cosmic gardening)

PART 1. NOT JUST DUST IN THE WIND

In the beginning there was a vast empty space with atoms flying around in chaos everywhere when suddenly two overly aggressive atoms collided and caused a huge explosion. Out of this explosion came a vast network of stars and debris spinning in an ever-expanding vortex we call the universe. The Big Bang, the singularity, the beginning. Right! First vast empty space then all of a sudden a Universe so huge it has no end. Wait, even better, first there was nothing and then the one and only god created shit to keep him busy. A massive universe with one teeny little speck where he created human beings to be just like him. Now that’s even funnier! As a matter of fact both of these theories are a source of great humor and hilarity and the butt of many jokes at The Board of Co-operative Gods and Goddesses in District seven. At a cosmic cocktail party you will hear no less than one hundred jokes about various theories of how life came to be, but the Earth stories are by far the most popular. The “monkey trials” keep the gods laughing for hours on end at inter-galactic get togethers. There is not a god worth his sodium that hasn’t heard of Darwin, Moses, Mohamed, Elijah. Or the Talmud, Koran, The Bible or even The Upanishads. Stories of a pure evil horned devil with blood dripping from its hands and fear bolts being shot from its eyes keep them rolling in the anti-matter with tears of laughter. Satan, Lucifer, Serpent of Evil, all such knee slapping names. Oh yes, the earthlings grown by Cosmo are a source of great amusement to all the gods. All the gods? Am I saying there really are many gods? Does a pope defecate in the woods? Is a Polar Bear catholic? Can white bears jump? Of course there are many gods, and many galaxies supporting forms of life. Did you really think you were the only living beings in the entire universe? Jeez, and I thought Wookies were dumb. Well sit back you Vader naysayer and let me tell you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Well maybe a fabrication or two along the way because YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH!
In the beginning there were many gods and goddesses with varying responsibilities an each god had a particular purpose.Some Gods to make the planets spin, some to make and enforce laws such as gravity, gods to create properties of physics, gods to ponder deeply the laws and needs of the universe’s to determine how they should be applied. These were the most intelligent gods and they held court to make decisions about everything. It is still known today as The Board of Co-operative Gods and Goddesses. (BOCGG) They made the decisions that effected the farmer gods who were expected to grow and experiment with the various galaxies across the universe. Each galaxy was tended to by its own god. There was great and clever Simon in the Tolkien Galaxy, Mychrighton in the Andromeda Strain Galaxy, The red haired beauty Lucille who watched over the Bobaloo Galaxy, Luke-ass who presided over The infamous Jedi Galaxy that was far far away, and so on. Here in our Milky Way galaxy, the farmer was and is the god Cosmo. Such a good farmer is Cosmo that they named the entirety of space after him. The vast space of the universe came to be known as “The Cosmos”. Travel was known as Cosmic travel, knowledge as cosmic knowledge and any left out odds and ends in space became known as Cosmic debris. I’m not jiving you bout that Cosmic debris! Cosmo is indeed an accomplished cosmic gardener, in fact he is somewhat of a legend among the other gods. In Solar system 728KJ he had cultivated eight grooving spinning garden orbs called planets. From the tiny and excruciatingly hot mercury, to the equally tiny but totally frozen Neptune he held them together with a tight asteroid belt and tended to all eight magnificently. He had the giant Jupiter (which for some reason has red eye in all the family photo’s), he put some cool looking bangle bracelets around the lovely and mysterious Saturn, and named two of the planets after his own Mom and Dad. The entire universe was touched at the naming of Venus and Mars. Yes Cosmo had really taken pride in that particular solar system. But his pride and joy and claim to fame is most assuredly for his work done on one particular planet, known throughout cosmos as garden earth. Garden earth is a rather insignificant looking planet in solar system 728KJ. It is the third planet from Sun 728, and has the benefit of the perfect amount of sunshine. Earth also has a considerable amount of water on it which is the other essential ingredient in growing things. Sun and Water in abundance makes for a smashing garden. Cosmo wants to make planet earth, in solar system 728KJ the most prolific and successful garden in all the universe. With a vast ocean to create clouds which would in turn drop water back into the garden a system of synergetic energy is created. Cosmic irrigation! Garden earth is a thriving ever-growing populace world. A wide variety of vegetation and many roaming creatures inhabit this garden. But what you see on garden earth today is not how it was at the beginning so put on your asteroid seat belt as we travel back in time to see how this all came to be The Planet Earth.
Catastrophic is the best way to describe his first attempt. Maybe he was not mature enough or maybe he just rushed it, but either way it’s a story that is told and retold as far away as Gabor40904 which is about eight billion gamma light years away. To you that would be a mere two point five septillion miles give or take. At any rate here is what happened in Cosmo’s first attempt. When a god reaches a certain age he or she is given a Galactic Farming Starter Kit. In the starter kit comes a package of sea monkeys which gods use to populate in any gathering of H2O. These sea monkeys would eventually grow into all sorts of different weird looking creatures. Some even had 8 legs! But, that’s way in the future as evolution thrives underwater. The problem was that no one could see the assortment of single cell creatures swimming beneath the surface of the Sea of Earth. Cosmo wanted more on his special planet. He wanted some things that he could watch and toy with and keep as pets. So with the BOCGG approval Cosmo sent away for the “Advanced” farmer kit which comes with both vegetative seeds and life seeds capable of growing multi-organism land dwelling entities.
Cosmo surveyed his round global garden and noticed a huge land mass which he had named Pangea after his sister Pangela. It was enormous but completely unadorned and surrounded in its entirety by water. Cosmo’s first brilliant concept was born. Large edible vegetation. He developed gargantuan trees and tall full shrubs which would absorb energy from the sun and convert it into oxygen. Now he could create some creatures and they would have food and be able to breath. Brilliance had come to Cosmo in a dream. He was being chased by a creature with a long neck and large mouth with sharp teeth. This would be his first creature. What should he name this creature? Jar Jar Brinks? No, that’s stupid. He thought out loud. “Lets see, the creature was chasing me and my buddy Steggo and when it got near it bit Steggo’s ass. Steggo yelled out damn man, now my ass is sore and.” He stopped in mid sentence. “That’s it! I’ll call him sore ass! No, not sore ass, Steggo’s sore ass. To avoid any divine libel law suits it was suggested he make it one word. It sounded smart and sophisticated as stegosaurus so he went with that. Now for some other creatures for stegosaurus to play with.
So Cosmo created an assortment of giant creatures. Long necks, smaller faster creatures, a few with wings, and one really scary one. He made up weird names for them like Stegosaurus, brontosaurus, Pterodactyl (He also invented the silent letter which would cause all sorts of shit in years to come), and his personal favorite, the frightening one, Tyrannosaurus Rex. For weeks the great god Cosmo played with his new dinosaurs. He started to get a little worried when he saw them chewing on the tops of all his beautiful vegetation, but realized that they needed to eat something. My creator almighty they have appetites bigger than their damn bodies. Seems the more they ate the more they expelled from there butts. Some of it a horrible almost violent smelling gas which was a bit of an embarrassment to Cosmo when other gods came to view his garden. But the solid stuff actually deteriorated and made the trees and shrubs grow even better. It seemed like a perfect system. Everything depended on everything else to survive. The sun gave everything energy and sucked up water to make clouds, the clouds returned water to cool things off in the garden and help grow the vegetation. The vegetation gave air and food for the creatures , and the creatures pooped out food to feed the vegetation. A cycle was created which Cosmo referred to as “The cycle of life.” A theme that would forever define his garden no matter what thrived in the garden beds.

I’m On Top Of The World by The Woodworkers (A song parody)

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Such a feelings coming over me
I feel vertigo in everything I see
Not a cloud in the sky, but some ashes in my eye
And I won’t be surprised if its your spleen

We burned just as soon as you were free
In a funeral pyre especially for me
And the reason you burn, is to fit you in this urn
It’s the nearest thing to heaven that you’ll find

I’m on the -top of the world looking
At your cremation and the only explanation I can find
Is this cheap urn that I found
Makes me feel like you’re around
I’ll put your ashes at the top of the world

Seems like in the wind I hear your name
I look at you I see you’re not the same
Your on the leaves of the tree’s and your blowing in the breeze
And that’s a pleasing sense of happiness for me

There is only one thing on my mind
When this day is through the urn I dropped I find
And tomorrow will be the end for you but not for me
All you had will be mine now that you’re free
I’m on the -top of the world looking
At your cremation and the only explanation I can find
Is this cheap urn that I found
Makes me feel like you’re around
I’ll put your ashes at the top of the world

Sleepless In New York (You Had Me At Gunpoint)

What’s a nice gun like you doing in a place like this?
A writer is often called upon to take a memory that they’d prefer to leave full of cobwebs hidden away in the memory attic and bring it back to life for retelling. I’m told its therapeutic but truthfully I fear it may be the proverbial camel breaking straw that may release my inner serial killer. Maybe that’s harsh, more the harmless psychopath that dwells locked in the caverns of my id. But for the sake of art I will lurch head first into the darker depths of my era of depression an relive this horror in words. No, not THE depression, I’m not THAT old, my depression, the confused, self medicating years of my youth spent in the absence of light. I have a somewhat sordid past to begin with so there is the possibility this is a dangerous exercise that could unleash the devils warrior that may be lurking about in the hopes of finding a portal into the mortal. Ergo (I love using that word) I put forth a disclaimer or two. First, there are no innocent people in need of protection but names were changed anyway to make them sound more badass. Second, this story may or may not be true and may or may not be based on real life experience. Either way, it could happen to you. Here then is a tale of one night when my darkness encountered the darkness of a gun barrel. The night I was held at gunpoint.
Like most big cities New York has an underground drug market. On the Lower East Side you can get it all. Pot, pills, coke, dope, pretty much any drug you want, you just needed to know where to go and how its sold. On 14th street give the two finger V sign and you’ll attract valium salesmen, down on Third Ave listen for the word “sense” and you have pot. Coke is by Tompkins Park, and heroin is in the famed alphabet city. Life had dealt me some major blows, leaving me living in a tiny room with no family connections. I had used a lot of different drugs but my depression was at an all time low, even I didn’t want to hang out with me. I found solace in drinking booze and sniffing bags of heroin to take me away. It was a very dangerous game to play, one because its an unforgiving high and if you let it get you it won’t let go, and two because to cop it you had to go into the belly of the beast of the city where not a single soul can be trusted. But when you don’t give a shit about anything, even your pathetic life, it’s a risk worth taking. So I did, I went down on occasion to cop some dope. The dealers have people they call steerers, who steer you to the sellers. It’s a labyrinth designed to protect the dealers in which you encounter three people before finding the one holding the dope. This hot July night I was gamed by a junkie who posed as a steerer.
“Hey Bro, you looking for some good dope? Mr. T, the best shit in town right around the corner.” Mr. T was legendary dope, very strong and a real prize among users. In an attempt to let him know I knew my shit I asked, “Old executive or double Dee?” This Latin dude stared at me. He has very tight curled hair parted in the middle and a pock marked worn face partially covered by a weak goatee. “Hey look Bro, you be talking to Culebro, I da man wit da plan G. You want the real deal Hollyfield Exec or you wanna get that cheap ass double dee shit from the negritos Yo? Follow the Culebro if you want the good dope son I ain’t got time to play games boy the fucking man is all over this place. Come on ahead or get the fuck out!” I made a shit decision, I followed The Culebro.
It’s not uncommon for dope to be sold in an abandoned building. No neighbors, easy exits for the dealers, and no one to tip off the cops. But this abandoned building was just that, abandoned. I followed Culebro up to the third floor, the stairwells lit by candlelight. I thought that was a good sign, that usually the habits of a smart operation. Or an operation no longer in use. As soon as we entered the hallway on the third floor Culebro pushed me up against the wall and stuck a handgun to my head. “Okay blanquito, how much you gonna die for tonight?”
I’ve often heard the phrase “shit a brick” to describe a profound fear. First let me say that if one were to shit even little pieces of broken mortar it would take a great deal of effort and concentration, both of which were in short supply. I assure you bowel movement would be amongst the last thoughts one has with a loaded pistol poised at ones forehead. Nor would my thoughts cause me to perspire bullets. My life didn’t flash before my eyes. That would have at the very least offered some entertainment. Most of went through my head was more like, “Oh fuck. Oh shit. That’s a fucking gun! What the fuck am I gonna do now. This fucker is crazy and he’s gonna shoot me.” I also entertained the thought of being a statistic in tomorrows police blotter. Unknown twenty something found dead in center of chalk line on Lower East Side. Me, reduced to a thin line of white chalk! But that was a fleeting thought, what I instinctively knew was I had to escape or die. But how to approach this escape? Beg? “Oh please man please…don’t. I have a family somewhere maybe I’ll have children someday.” No, that won’t work. Calm reasoning? “Hey look man, this is a mistake, I’m not worth it. I have no money, the gun will make noise and cops will be up here in seconds.” No, cops aren’t anywhere near this area, its one of the poorest in the city. Here gunshots and sirens are like birdcalls in the morning. No go. Bargain? “Look man, I have plenty of cash in my apartment in the village, we can take the subway over and I’ll go up and get it all for you. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.” Right! He seems like such a trusting soul. Options are limiting rapidly. Then it hit me. My bright idea.
Living in the city that never sleeps has some unwritten, unspoken rules. There is a good chance that at some point you are going to get ripped off. Mugged. Always split up your cash an always have some cash somewhere. You never want to carry a lot of cash around but you always need something. If you get mugged and have at least a little cash you chances are good it’s a druggie looking for quick cash and will take your money and flee. Roll it up in bundles to make it look like more than it I. A well rolled wad of single can look like a major score, and most times the thief doesn’t stop and count. If you have nothing you run the risk of pissing them off and turning them bat shit crazy. I had my own strategy because purchasing drugs on the street was an art. Hundreds of scammers and muggers. I place my drug purchase money in my front pocket, a small wad of singles in my left, and a roll of cash in each sock. That way if I get mugged before copping I can still cop, and if its after I can give them money and they won’t know I have drugs. But this situation was different. This dude knew I had drug money and he wanted it. He doesn’t realize I live here, he thinks I’m a B&T. B&T is slang for Bridge and Tunnel, a reference to the fact that kids come from the suburbs of Connecticut, New jersey or Long Island to come to play in the big city by driving through the tunnel or over a bridge. Easy prey. But I was no longer B&T, I had been living in the city for four years now and knew a lot of tricks. I opted for one I practiced in my mind but never in a real life situation. I sprung into action.
With my hands in the air I said, “hold on man, hold on. I have some more cash here in my sock.” I slowly reached down towards my foot and removed a wad of singles wrapped in a twenty to show him. Then I flung it up in the air using my thumb to separate the bills and it looked like bills from heaven. It was just the distraction I needed and as he greedily started grabbing for the bills he lowered his gun and I fled like the track star I could have been if I applied myself. (that’s what my Mom always told me). I didn’t stop running until I reached the village, and I absolutely learned my lesson about dope. I’ll never cop anything in that neighborhood again!