Tears Of A Wandering Jew

Dear God, I hate this sour food!

This I thought while chewing slowly the sausages these forest people love so naturally and dearly. They call themselves Tervingi and I'm trapped pretending I'm one of them. Or at least simpatico. To my eyes they are crude and uncivilized, young in this world and ignorant of the Word. It's over 400 years since the infamous death of Jesus and the world has tilted into chaos.

I've landed deep inside darkly entombing woods as vast as any ocean. If I'm never to see beyond them I fear I may go mad. But into darkness we've been plunged since the killing of our Savior. My heart hangs heavy at this gloomy and shrouded land filled with uninteresting people without yearn for travel or knowledge. But I'm stuck with the knowledge it didn't have to be this way. We snuffed out the light of the world so how can we expect anything but dark ages. Will this last forever? I wonder.

But what is Jesus to these happily unknowing villagers? Just the funny name of an unformed apparition in their minds. Time will come when that apparition takes both form and substance in every mind around the world and I won't feel so left out and alone. (Why is there a voice telling me it won't matter??) I try to speak of him, to teach of the Presence that touched me and the energy that marks you for the rest of your lives. But I fear to speak too boldly.

Fucking thugs

Where I unite with them is in hatred of the Romans. There our bond is strong and intimately understood. While my hatred predates theirs I'm hoping now they see the light of the inevitable treachery of the empire with the massacre of the 30,000 "barbarian" soldiers by their fellow "pure" Roman legions. The Romans are corrupt and have been allowed to rule for far too long.

In my heart I know revenge against Rome for the death of Jesus is pointless, leading nowhere. But it sticks in my craw and I cannot rest while Rome is still alive. Yes, it will not fix the ails of the world or even bring peace. But I can say it will bring peace to me. And when Rome is gone, then what? What direction do I turn to create good instead of just to decimate? Those are the real questions that bother me - questions I do not share with my temporal allies.

I also have misgivings on their persecution of the Jews, of course. I have not stood against the ring leaders but I cannot bring myself to join in their parroted denouncings, even if it kills me. Savages. Yes we all pass through a cruel and backwards phase on our journey but the key is to renounce violence so we don't do harm during that time. I look around and I see no thought of that even crossing their linear minds. And though I am a believer in Christ I cannot call myself Christian for it is they who do the most un-Christ like things to my people.

I'm stuck in the dark orange area. Oh, goody.

They know I am "special", not of their time. At first I tried to hide it but then I saw it became obvious when my delights did not match their delights. How revealing it is in what one takes as one's entertainment! I recognize a certain charm in some of their songs but it's so heavily buried in writhing war it's an effort to pluck it out. I keep an open mind and that is what saves me but I know in a pinch I'd be an easy target for scapegoating if the times turn bad.

On occasion I do honor my heritage. When they sit around nightly tables of misery looking to drown their fears in ale I hear the words turn angry in frustration. War and anger the only things to give any direction to a life. I remember those days. I remember that empty hole in my stomach as I once uttered those same words. Careful never to use the most forbidden word of all - "love" - I suggest perhaps their anger does not serve them well. This they like, it frees them from their chains and tension dissipates from the room. But it's rarely fully embraced.

Because of the youth of their culture they hold an innocence I do not. Dare I speak of the old days? Dare I speak of what we traded away on an idol hope? We were all special once upon a time, delivered by Moses and guided by God and the dream handed to us that lives in the soul of every child ever born unto this earth. Now we live in the shadows, hoping to escape the light of our dastardly deeds.

Yes, we slipped and slid and defamed and blasphemed and watched in horror as paradise slipped from our hands until finally we were dispersed and scattered to the winds, fragmented and without needed contact. What no one speaks of is the guilt of an undeserved love. I met another wandering Jew on his way to God knows where and we furtively reminisced of the beloved times lost while never speaking a word as to why. From that I knew he too felt the same guilt. Why did God ever pick us?

Is that the story of mankind: paradise lost? That there will be a time for salvation then time no more? We knew it would be bad, but we never suspected this. My spotted soul aches to be clean. How do I explain my weakness and the baseless anger that led me to serve Rome only to then stand by as the cruel and the lost and the wretched expressed their dire fate by sacrificing the lamb?

We made a nightmare from a dream. Yet the dream is so hard to believe! And yet I know it's true even as I fail it. That disconnect haunts me and humbles me as I consort with the villagers who beam so gratefully as I sometimes dump a nugget of wisdom on them to help in their daily lives. It's from no moral superiority, trust me. I've just been around longer, dear ones.

Can I even still believe the dream? Or a silver lining: that we are like bees pollinating the world in our scattered existence? Are we spreading seeds of truth? Is that why they persecute us because they know what the truth will bring and we are its carriers? I know this is so as I watch the futile efforts of authority in all its ugly forms, draped in robes of power and religion's lust.

But we could have done this a better way, without the near death experience of our piercing pain. What fools! What fools! The feeling is gone as we're driven now only by our memory. We wanted any way but the Way. The step too far to take to our disbelieving eyes. We could have had everything. We could have had love unwreckable. All we had to do was not wreck it ourselves.

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After pulling this Roman thorn, where to next? I have a yearning to create, to build, to share my knowledge as a father does a child. Around the corner is not death and doom, my son, as men of the world would have you to believe. It's a scientific law: Love is the nature of life, making life the nature of love. Give me a newborn endeavor, God, and I'll teach them to love nature which will in the end lead them to You.

I heard rumor of an island country far to the east forming its own way. Is this true? I tremble to think so! You who are the Dispenser Of Dreams, I ask you: Is it real? Is there really a "Japans"?

A 21st Century Soldier's Update

Loneliness is like being stuck in a tumble dryer with razor blades cutting your soul, leaving you to die. It's a hell and a horror and it's the source of all of mankind's atrocities. I was bleeding badly when I joined up: I hadn't heard my name in months. No one was speaking to me anymore, I being of washed hands. The night attacks were getting worse. During the day I could stay the tumbling of the entombing dryer as I gripped the handle in opposing force. But when the need for sleep came, I had to let go...

So I was scared - really scared - when I joined up. There were some other losers there, I could spot them easy, sort of like how gay people can spot one another I suppose. The razor blades had made them killers before their time and I could see in their eyes they just had to let somebody know. Problem was, I was the only person there listening. The army was just happy we came to kill. They didn't much care why. I did, I still wanted to live.

I was actually glad to hear my name even if it was called out in anger and mere utility. I could not recollect the last time I'd heard it from a person who volunteered time with me. So I got to thinking maybe I shouldn't be taking up anyone's time after all. I didn't believe the slick and clever ads but they spoke of an army life and maybe that's better than no life at all. At least, that's what I told myself.

Whole time I was being processed I felt a knife in my gut I couldn't pull out. What would they do if I fell to the floor from the pain? Humanity is not an army requirement, I realized. But I made it through and blindly hoped I was at long last saved from the razor blades. Everyone else in the barracks was in the same boat I was in. You could smell the fear and silent prayers reeking from every bunk. I know I had questions but I wondered what misgivings they had. I certainly didn't think they joined to escape the cutting blades as I had. None were more foolish with their life than I.

It was true the blades went away (though I was still stuck in the dryer, never to be safe) but that initial knife in my gut only got worse. Was anyone else feeling it? Did I need the army the most? Did they even understand the headlines?

Every war started in the 21st century was renamed to be part of the Great Oil Wars, the powers that be no longer able to contain the truth. There had been a time when explaining sons and daughters dying for oil and profits would have sparked such outrage the military as we know it would have been dissolved. But over time the idea of serving corporate masters melded into the idea of serving our country. After all, we reasoned, what are we without our corporate health? We're fighting for our jobs now, not just to have a mate.

We'd just been deployed after training, my unit stuck in this long, strange building crammed in between railroad tracks and warehouses. None of it made any sense to me but our sergeant was a particularly nasty piece of work and sniffed me right out as a thinker - or as he put it: a troublemaker. Turns out he was going to be so very right.

The rule for new recruits was we had to use our personal cars for transportation as the army had contracted with a gasoline company to ensure their profits by forcing stupid helpless recruits into buying their product with money deducted from their paychecks. To anyone who listened the message of the day was loud and clear: It's all about who's the best predator. Most people are pretenders - to make their parents happy, I suppose - and so a deaf ear was turned to the vile message of the latest ways for mankind.

But not by our sergeant. He heard it loud and clear, proud he was not to be so foolish to believe the big lie of alleged noble purposes. This gave him great confidence and that confidence stuck in my loser's craw. I thought to myself: even he's doing better than I am. And I know he's a scumbucket royale. Our sergeant’s evil ways did not seem to bother the others as much as it did me. I guess because they had lives and wives outside the army, not needing to make it work like I did. So like a drowning man one night I was forced awake by my wrestling doubts, climbing my way to fresh air.

Still most people's idea of military life

I scratched at the ancient, neglected blinds of the depressing industrial window as my soul ached to join one of the passing trains to what had to be freedom. I remember my lungs gasping for air like a drowning victim just taken from the water. That's when I saw them coming like a panzer division storming in in an unstoppable blitzkrieg. Only these weren't tanks but tow trucks one after another, licking their chops like the proverbial fox in a henhouse. We sucker recruits were about to be taught a lesson.

As a private enterpriser himself, our beloved sergeant had contracted with the tow company to take away each and every one of our vehicles. Knowing we could not do without them we'd have to pay a hefty fine to get them back or face having our car put up for sale. The sergeant got a kickback for each towing and a bonus if the soldier could not pay the fine and thereby lost his car. Clearly we’re dealing with a man who had no illusions of the world.

But he hadn't counted on my nightly pain. Barely able to speak with the shock and outrage I was seeing I started making loud yelping noises and pointing out the window. (It still bothers me I could not say actual words). Luckily I was noisy enough to wake up everyone else and we all rushed out to scare away the tow truck drivers because they knew we meant to take their lives. When word got out of the incident, the colonel exploded in fury at this jeopardy to his looming pension.

What? You can't arrest me! HAHAHA!

The sergeant was taken away in a big show of hypocritical undertaking and our lieutenant had been in on it as well. Eventually everything settled back down as the waves I'd began sorted themselves out. To avoid further black eyes - while also avoiding a change in message - the army instituted rules for legitimate towing of recruits' cars. This gave the predatory sergeants an out if they got caught so their methods could be "put up for review" and give the brass a veneer of justice. That's all anybody wants nowadays anyway: a veneer.

I got kicked out for failing psychological evaluations ordered after my "unseemly nighttime outburst". You gotta hand it to them military higher ups, they sure can twist a lie! When I first got out I told everyone I met what a big scam the army is, thinking I'd enlighten the world. At first they'd listen but soon reaction turned on me, hearing words like "traitor" and "loser" muttered in bitter reply. Seems everyone's a follower of the profit motive, what some call the sign of the beast.

So it's back to the razor blades for me, doomed all the more to isolation as I carry a truth I cannot share. But you don't fool me like you once did driving your fancy cars to places of fine dining and barefoot servants. The whole thing is a big fucking scam you just don't want to admit. There is no love in that, and without love there is no truth - and without truth there is no future.

So that's what we're fighting for...

The Toxic Censorship Of Huffington Post

First off, let me say I love Arianna Huffington. I wouldn't go listen to her speak in person or anything but I pretty much stop down when she has something to say on TV. She "gets it" in a way that is refreshing and satisfying. Go Arianna!

I've seen some people on the left slam her pretty bitterly, falsely questioning her motives and commitment to progressive causes. To me, that reflects more on the accuser's defects than it does on her. I could live in a world of nothing but Ariannas. But life is not so simple.

Where I part ways with her oftentimes is in the solutions. One thing she cannot abide is "toxic dialog" and I understand completely what she means by that. Our discourse has been overrun by disingenuous and inflammatory comments without any intent of being constructive or truth-seeking. Those people are like acid eating into our souls with no possible good coming out of it.

It's beyond infuriating when someone burns down the house you're trying to build. One cannot both build and defend at the same time and these maniacal predators take advantage of this to practice their art of destruction. Such actions are intolerable and if allowed to continue are a threat to society as a whole. I think Arianna and I are eye-to-eye on that assessment.

What? Me toxic?

But her so-called solution is just as bad.

You did not hear Gandhi or Martin Luther King talk about censoring the hearts of their fellow man and God knows the toxic dialog they endured. Instead, they spoke of changing hearts knowing that would lead to a change of speech as the mouth is the overflow of the heart. What they did not do is foolishly hold themselves up as arbiters of what is good and true as no human can possibly make that claim.

Not that that stops Arianna and her many minions from doing just that. It's a false paradigm as she attempts to create a place of only "constructive" dialog. But one cannot make a difference only hearing what one wants to hear. One must let the chips fall where they may and trust in nature to sort it out the good from the bad so that we may all learn. The learning never stops.

I've had many comments censored at HuffPo and for a couple of years I stopped commenting in frustration. I also noted many other commenters complaining of and confused by similar treatment. "What did I do wrong?" The answer, of course, is nothing. Oh, the lament to be held captive of little minds!

But I've been sneaking back on lately only to be wholly soured once again. Arianna posted about a baseless lawsuit against her. Here is the gist of the suit:

NEW YORK — A blogger and labor activist has filed a lawsuit against AOL and the Huffington Post for not paying freelance bloggers while benefiting financially from the content they create.

Jonathan Tasini's suit, filed Tuesday, seeks class-action status on behalf of more than 9,000 writers and other content providers and asks for at least $105 million in damages.

The suit names Huffington Post co-founders Arianna Huffington and Kenneth Lerer as defendants. AOL bought the Huffington Post for $315 million last month, which Tasini said prompted the lawsuit.

The suit claims the Huffington Post has been "unjustly enriched" by luring contributors with the prospect of exposure but keeping the financial gain from their articles.

She was mocking of the suit and rightly dismissive of it and I say this as one who provides free content myself. So to provide a satirical statement on the mentality of Tasini's lawsuit I posted this comment:

[Comment withheld pending payment]

Now, I thought that was pretty damn funny expecting to be paid for a comment and was also very biting on the whole something-for-nothing expectations of the suit. Instead, it got censored, deemed an attack on Arianna by the deaf, dumb and blind munchkins upon whom she relies to make her world pure and holy. No, it's a fool's errand you pursue Arianna, both perfidious and self-defeating. The only thing worse than toxic dialog is toxic censorship, as bad as any state controlled newspaper or two bit dictator looking for the same sort of paradise through baseless repression.

The Note

All the women were excited about the upcoming wedding.

"It's going to be just like a dream! I can't wait for it to get here!"

"Theirs will be better than Diana's. What they have is true love, not phony like Charles'."

"But it's still a fantasy! So young and so beautiful - can you just imagine?"

Debby could imagine it - that was the problem. Each word of praise a drop of acid in her stomach, churning her in secret hell. Time was when she had the perfect wedding, lavishing herself in the envious talk of her inflamed pageantry and perceived perfection. Even if she could dig up some poor misfit to remember her day of glory how could that ever compete with a royal wedding?

Everywhere she looked were reminders of the painful procession to come; mocking her, extinguishing her life's fire like a stubbed out cigarette on a bus station floor. Dear God, tell me it isn't so. Even an English lecture she planned to attend was canceled when the speaker opted to attend the royal wedding instead. Yes, God was telling her it was so very so.

Her two kids in college left her afternoons alone. No more busywork of distraction. Just Debby, the mirror and time - a toxic cocktail as the bills of a lifetime came due. But the thing that nailed her to her cross the most - the vile and bitter thing of this living nightmare - what made it all too real was that she too once shared the fine and classy looks of the English bride to be.

If only somehow it could get canceled. Please God, just do this for me and I'll never ask anything again!

Helpless - driven even - she took another bite from the Ben and Jerry's carton. Eating ice cream from so small a carton made it less a sin she told herself. She couldn't stop her arm if she wanted to anyway. She long ago gave up the fight. Sweets were the last thing left that made her feel good. And were the first thing to bloat her beyond the lithe figure of the future princess.

Debby was still tormented by the face that stared back at her from her passport photo of two years ago. Even her head had swollen. Her hair didn't sit up like it used to. She read the whole lie of her life in that picture. Surely everyone else saw it too! She pushed the unthinkable thought out of her head.

Anything...anything to keep it from happening...the wedding that invalidated her life...that lay her naked to the world. "Why does it have to happen! Why!" she cursed aloud. A regal hand around her neck tightened its choking grip with each passing day. She leaned back in the kitchen chair, glassy eyes admitting a long building defeat. It's true. God has abandoned me as I abandoned myself.

A small brown puddle formed at the base of the hallowed carton melting from inattention.

It wasn't until the second attempt she heard the doorbell ring. A registered letter. Registered letter? Red flags went off but she couldn't remember why. When she opened it the floodgates of memory rushed in a long buried reality. It was him.

When they worked together he had told her he loved her. Later, dying in the aftermath, he sent a registered letter pouring out the same. But how could she leave a sure deal like her marriage? She secretly scorned the dating and the single struggling to find mates and happiness - fools not smart enough to make a deal like she had. On her check list for life all the boxes had been marked off. That's supposed to make for happiness and success!

But it was she who had been the fool avoiding the necessary pains of finding her true path. With every passing year her ball and chain weighted itself in heavier load. I'll make it...somehow. She snapped at her children's freedom, insisting they make the same mistakes she had, naming it a moral imperative. You don't want your mother to die, do you?

And now this crazy note shot out from the past, reaching her at the exact nadir of her existence. At first, her soul failed her to even read it. Once realizing she could not ignore it Debby tore it open with eyes wide with fear and hope.

"Don't you know what "need" means? It means "not optional", "can't do without", "no other way possible". How is it you ever thought I could make it without you? I call out to you Debby Hanssen. I call out to you across time and space. I cannot un-need you."

She dropped to the floor, breaking down in tears, gradually - meekly - letting light in around the edges. Her dead heart beat in joy. Someone needs me! Could anything be more clear? This is the greatest gift in the universe. Used for a lifetime, imprisoned, impaled. But now? What cared she for any nuptials in the world?

Then she cried anew, releasing her pride and pain, thanking God with all heart and all her soul and all her mind - just as she had always claimed to do. It was obvious what to do: leave right away, seek him out and find what there was to find.

But you can't leave right away or they'll know!

The fear of being "found out" was the tensile strength of her chains. Dare she break her chains and show herself a fraud? Dare she break the chains that had giver her a marriage and family and a grand house? No, no - she must be conservative. I've got to play this smart.

"I'll make an excuse to go so no one will really know why I'm flying out there. That way, if things go wrong, I won't lose everything." Fight the urge to flee right away!

Perhaps nothing in the universe is so difficult as to do what one wants. It took her a week to manufacture a cover story. With trembling and excited fingers she typed in her plane reservation. I've got a good feeling about this! A good feeling I haven't had in a long, long time! It's like I feel...connected. Debby's glowing face even chanced a look in the mirror.

The airport lounge was surreal with infinite windows. Suddenly, the world was once again at her feet. Last time she flew had been sheer (hidden) drudgery, a chore. But this? This was her escape! Bring on the world! And come the world did.

"Flight 215 has been canceled due to mechanical issues. We apologize for the inconvenience. Please come to the front desk to make arrangements for departure first thing tomorrow morning. Again, we apologize for the delay."

What does this mean? Is God testing me? I'm still going even if I have to sleep here all night! That's it! That's how I can show my commitment. Inside a voice was knocking but Debby had shut the door, the idea of a closed mind proving too seductive, one last chance to prove her shuttered life hadn't been an entire waste. And that's why she failed to remember she could ask another airline to accept her ticket.

Waking in the morning, a disturbing pea nestled uncomfortably under the princess' bed. But why? She had proven her commitment to make good! I must be imagining things. Nothing's going to stop me. And yet, she remained unconvinced, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Pulling into the parking lot, the minute she saw the ambulance, she thought: "That's him!" Don't be silly! You're just being negative again! But as she pulled up to the private condominium, the sinking feeling in her stomach pulled her deeper into the seat. Those last few unreal steps to the EMT haunted her the rest of her days. He was dead...suicide the previous night...please move away.

She who hesitates is lost. The note dropped from her hand, blowing away in a hot dry wind, its usefulness lost.

I Be Scientist!

I is scientist! I don't believe nothin' that ain't nothin'! You don't know Darwin you don't know shit. It's like this cuz I know this, and this I duz know. Life is just about the knowin' and 'bout nothin' else. No make believe fantaseze pie-in-the-sky not knowin' nothin' world for me!

Ain't nothin' can happen I don't understandable. When you know science that the way it is: all the shit 'comes understandable 'cause I don't make up shit jess to suit me. Science is the answer for us grown ups. Let me know when you ready to face factuals, I's already there. I's all about reality. Anything I can't understand just can't be real!

You see them bums in the street dying like dogs? That's nature at work just like good Darwin sez, survival of fittest. We got to weed out weak so we all can get strongerz. I sees me this five year old with a crutch and I kicks it out under him! I ain't gonna let mankind die. We survivors are advancing humans to the next stage. We won't have to worry about being human no more, we gonna go way beyond that!

We used to be dumb and not know about money an' makin' money an' how money make everything work. The only ways to trustin' people is not trustin' 'em. Dang, wa wuz dumm back in the day! Now we got order 'stead of chaos 'cause nobody doin' what they want no more. It a scientifical fact ya gotta make people do right!

We getting smarterer ev'ry day too! There science answer for every problems. We just gotta put the right chemikill in people and that'll fix any what ail us. Find a peace chemikill and stick it in every last body then we got no more wars! No need to doo nuttin' else. It science what gonna save us, not wishful thinking!

If you ain't smart in science then you ain't smart! Is mathical science for all them kids or we gonna die! We don't need them singin' 'n' laughin' 'n' dreamin' their life away. We need them bein' practical. We gotta wire them kids right so they can be useful. We know how life s'possed to be. We got the formula down!

Ya knows how when you be really really smart? I means smarter then ever been before. Smarter then all the people ever went afore us put together! It's when you can put poison in ya and stillz come out alrighty! Yup, that how badass we izzle! Dear Nature, we large and in charge now! We makes da rulez!

When people speakin' 'bout their fancifull faith and other mystree of the mind I know I ain't fallin' fer nun of that! All me faith in the scientifical. You can'ts thretenz me with imaginables! I alreadys exactily know wot all the truth is -least ways till science priest prove it ain't so no more.

There ain't no man from Gallilee that ever walk on water. Fairy tales for the foolish that is! No way no one 'fore us know more 'bout nature then we duz now. Used to we didn't know nothin' from nothin' and the world was all goblins an' ghosts an ' guessin'. But now we got reason in the sin. We know alla nature there is to know! No more questionables!

How To Screw The Screw That Screwed You

"Russell Martin is a dead man."

In my thirteen months of hell I probably said that five thousand times. Literally. Goddam thug hiding behind his guard's uniform. He's the fucking criminal and yet the world turns a blind eye. That says a lot about the world if you ask me. And even if you don't. I spent my private moments vowing my revenge over and over...

I'd catch him coming out of his house, coming up behind and putting a gun to his head. I'd take his car keys and cell phone and stuff him in the trunk of his own fucking car. Then I'd pull off my ski mask and drive with gloved hands to a pre-arranged place far into the woods. Next I'd handcuff and chain him to a tree - after taking his pants and underwear, leaving him exposed to whoever might find him. He's such a big fan of humiliation I thought he might appreciate that.

Then, I'd start to walk away. That's when the begging would begin. I can hear it now, "You can't do this! Don't leave me here! You just can't do this to people! I'll die!"

"Quit your bitchin'! You do the crime you do the time!"

"But I've never been convicted of anything!"

"I convicted you. Now I'm carrying out the sentence."

"Who are you to convict anyone? What did I ever do? Who are you to me?..."

Then it hits him. I'm a former prisoner. And he knows what that means. His abuse cannot be denied to me. That's when he falls into a familiar refrain.

"You people are animals! Only an animal would do something like this! This just proves what I've always said!"

His charges don't stick on me. I went in an innocent man. I came out a raging criminal. Russell wasn't the brightest bulb but he was cagey. He knew what line not to cross but he danced right up to it, inflicting his club with just the right amount of bruising. I was weak, an easy target - for everyone. I was put into the state's care but that turned out to be no care at all. Somebody has to pay.

Get this folks: I don't care why you fuck me, I just care if you fuck me. And those who know how to play the system never get theirs unless we apply the law of the jungle. An eye for a fucking eye. No one made you be a prick. That decision was completely your own. And I will be the instrument of God that strikes you down, making the world a safer place. I don't care if you dunces don't have the capacity to see that or not, I do. So I'm taking matters in my own hands since yours have proven incompetent.

This is when I use his very own words on the bastard. "Scream all you want! Nobody cares, nobody can hear you! Nobody listens to what a convict says. I own your ass! And whatever happens to your ass is what you got coming!"

I wonder if he'll have the nerve to say anything back to his own little infamous speech. If only you people knew what happens in the dark corners of the world where the likes of Russell Martin reside. Scum like him is what rots society from the inside out. I'm going to kill Russell Martin. I'm living for the moment I get to repeat his speech to him. I live to hear the sound of his hopeless wailing.

I'm not sure how it will work out after that. I'm thinking I'll leave him there a couple of days to soften him up. God, that will be sweet! The more he fights it the worse it is - just like in prison. Take the cup of bitterness and give them twice what they handed out says the good book. That's exactly what I intend to do.

Maybe I'll bring him food and water. He might slap it away with the injustice of it all. But as one who knows, pride is a diet most foul, spoiling the soul in sour rot. If I do let him live, he'll be a new man after tasting his own medicine of cruelty. No way will he be able to inflict pain without harkening back to his time tied to the tree, living completely at the mercy of the generosity of another human being. You want that generosity now don't you, you cocksucking motherfucker!

I have to admit, I don't appreciate having the path of my life altered like this, to clean up a mess not my own. But having been made aware of it what can I do? Just let this monster perpetuate his crimes for eternity? God might get him in the end but this is now and now is where we live. I for one am not for living in a fucking pigsty.

This I vow on this October day, prisoner 8936452, lying on my cot the last few hours before my release and coming pardon. Like Edmond Dantes of yore, I have been deemed to right the wrongs of our wretched planet.

********************

I had found the perfect location for the crucifixion. There were times I yearned to let it go, but I was not going to be lazy or shirk the duty God had tasked me with. Besides, whenever I tried to relax, the rage would come boiling up again, never giving me a moment's peace. I've got to get this over with if it's the last thing I do!

That's when I saw him, right in the middle of my rigid plans, sitting in the park slumped like a lost and sullen bum. Took me a double take or two convince myself it was him but when I saw the TDCJ logo on his cap I lost all doubt. If I'd had a baseball bat at that moment I'd have gone to town on him right then and there and been done with it. But that would be taking the easy way out, disappointing God in the lack of full measure of justice required.

But other voices spoke to me as well. "He's nothing now, he can't hurt you anymore. Look at him, the pathetic slut. I bet his family hates him."

I fought back. "Scratch him and you'll only find a stubborn will laced with a streak of cruelty from hell. That's what that man is, hell's portal to the world!"

"What is he now? What's he to you now?"

"Goddamit! I can't just think of myself. He's still hurting others. You know how much you screamed for help and no one would listen. You can't abandon those prisoners still under his thumb!"

"How is this making your life better?"

"It's not making it better, it's a pain in the ass!" That's when the whole thing starting feeling like a 16 ton weight on my shoulders.

"Let it go..."

"But, but..."

"Let it go."

After all the time wasted I just wanted to live. If I thought I could trust God to do anything I'd just walk right over and say hello in recognition of his presence. But that's just fucking insane!

And yet, that's what I found myself doing, watching my body move in the direction of his sorrowful park bench. What a disorienting experience that was. I'd never played the role of the bigger man before. Who am I? This has got to be some sort of aberration. I didn't even recognize my voice when I spoke in a tentative but friendly way.

"Hello, Russell Martin." A wry smile was on my face.

He was like a man disturbed from a deep slumber, not recognizing me at first. Then, the horror of the mirror. "I didn't know!" he needed to explain. "How could I know! You leave me alone!"

I stood undisturbed, absent of malice, letting him write his own script. That's the funny thing about guilt: it prevents you from doing the right thing. He could have apologized, made his peace with me and freed himself. Instead, he got up, carefully moving away like a cornered animal escaping a kill. What a curious play I did observe!

He made some hapless threats I don't remember now as mammoth waves of relief washed over me. I just remember this tiny little figure in the afternoon sun fleeing from me in dire consequence, looking back over its shoulder in fear. It too was curious to observe since I felt it truly had nothing to do with me.

One thing I do know - and did not fully realize again until that moment - is that once you start running from yourself, it never stops. The running takes over your life, swallowing up everything in its path, requiring ever more energy until you're all used up. Then I smiled a small smile and snorted at the irony. It was true after all: Russell Martin is a dead man.

Jimmy One Shoe Is Dead. You're Next.

It's a hell of a way to go:

HALTOM CITY — Two men and a woman were killed and six men were taken to John Peter Smith Hospital on Friday after a Ford cargo van left the road and hit a tree on Airport Freeway near Haltom Road, police and MedStar officials said.

The driver lost control about 4 p.m. while southbound on Airport Freeway and the van narrowly missed a light pole before hitting two trees and rolling about 25 feet, police said.

A witness who identified himself only as Tony said he ran over and helped the driver, who opened the door and got out, saying "eight to nine" people were still inside.

Tony said several people tried to open the back door but failed.

The southbound lanes of the service road and all but one southbound lane on Airport Freeway were closed, said Sgt. Eric Peters, a Haltom City police spokesman.

Police said the nine people in the van may have been working door-to-door delivering fliers from a pizza restaurant. The fliers were found inside the van.

Do you know what it's like to be desperate for money? I mean really desperate. I'm talking crawling-on-your-belly desperate begging to survive. I'll know if you're lying. See, once you've gone through that you can pick out those who've been through that from those who have not. You talk differently after crawling on your belly, looking up at The Man and seeing all his warts.

The Unknowing speak of Keynesian economics and monetary theory and other fantasies of the mind. The Knowing speak of people. Usually, the more educated a person the bigger idiot they are. True education comes from studying the human heart. Our rules are merely a manifestation of the iron bars that surround our souls. We live in an inverted world - an unknowing world - but seek comfort in that world. That is a fatal mistake.

You have revealed yourself to me. I'm going to narc you out. You see, the best way to get to know someone is to always take them at their word. Sooner or later the liar traps himself. Many people have had their eyes opened the hard way to the myth of reward for hard work and honesty in this society. Well, there is a reward - a humiliating death.

Unsafe Rides Are Just Part Of The Job For Flier Distributors

It's 5:15 on a Wednesday morning, and about two dozen men are milling around several white cargo vans and a pickup with a wooden camper shell, hoping to be chosen to be crammed inside and taken to a suburban neighborhood.

There, the "walkers" will disembark to distribute fliers house to house, rubber-banding them to doorknobs and earning about $50 for six hours of work.

None of the day laborers at the Shamrock station on Fort Worth's south side that morning expressed concern that only one of the vehicles had seats behind the driver.

They were more upset that the sole Ford Econoline in good condition and equipped with benches and seat belts already had a crew selected.

Noting bald rear tires on one van, a laborer named Michael Scannell defended the use of such vehicles, insisting: "We have a pretty good safety record."

A 53-year-old man who identified himself only as Fred, and who would end up left behind that morning without work, said he'd climb aboard "as long as the van is safe. If it wobbles and shakes, it's not safe.

"Anyway, I got to get money somehow, and this is better than robbing banks."

But all the laborers were aware of the March 4 accident that killed three walkers and injured seven others when a similar Econoline cargo van careened out of control on Airport Freeway.

Haltom City police said the 1995 van belonging to Fort Worth's Reed Distributing was traveling at normal highway speeds when it burst a tire and rammed into a tree.

Found inside were an open bottle of Mad Dog 2020 fortified wine and fliers for a New York-style pizza chain, Carmine's Pizzeria of Dallas and Lewisville. Police have yet to release toxicology results on the injured driver or a final accident report. But they said several of the tires were worn.

Mohan "Mike" Sedan, the Shamrock station's Nepalese-born manager, recalled confronting one of the Reed drivers after the accident.

"I told him you shouldn't put people in a van like that on the road. He said nothing," Sedan said. "Even in Nepal, we have seats in vans."

This may change. Two flier-distributing services not involved in the accident said they are reviewing their use of such vehicles and may install seats. Up until now, the industry has taken advantage of loopholes in state and federal road safety regulations to hold down costs.

I've done roofing, ditch digging, dish washing, industrial toilet cleaning, newspaper routes and just about everything else to claw my way to survival. I took you at your word, folks, and now I know you're a liar. I have some intelligence in ways most do not (and vice-versa) and that allowed me to see through the scams being perpetrated - scams not always even legal. The predators know our so-called honorable system is a sham and take advantage of every loophole.

You can always spot the biggest fuckers because they are the ones who praise work the most. Both communists and capitalists sip from the same cup of worker adoration. "Work! Work! Be productive!" they say. But in their minds they follow that with: "...so I won't have to!" We never progressed passed the Egyptians and the Hebrews. But bear in mind those who worship work will be the first to die in misery.

When thrown into the pits of hell, people will react one of two ways. You either become rebel scum or a willing lap dog. I've seen these people who side with their abusers hoping to gain favor as they mindlessly parrot their overlords to keep the slaves in line. They know they have the worldly backing on their side and that emboldens them in their attacks. They've shut out their own voice and substituted it with their master's. They will drown as Pharaoh's soldiers in the Red Sea.

The fate of all Republicans/conservatives

Seats Not Mandated

It's an open secret in the door-hanger advertisement industry that most walkers are typically transported in secondhand cargo vans with no seat belts or, for that matter, seats.

"That's pretty much the norm in the industry," said Jim Garner of Cedar Hill-based Always Distributing, a family-owned business founded in 1954.

Otherwise, explained Lee Brown, owner of H&H Distributing in Fort Worth, they couldn't pack in 10 people with thousands of fliers.

The owner of the demolished Ford Econoline, Paul Reed of Reed Distributing, defended the use of such vehicles.

"I am doing nothing against the law at this point," he told the Star-Telegram.

As far as carrying people in cargo vans without seats, Reed is correct.

Under Texas law, as in most other states, seat belts are not required for adults in a cargo van that has no seats. And while the Econoline owner's manual warns of potential serious injury or death for anyone riding in the cargo area, there's no state or federal prohibition against carrying adults in the back, the Texas Department of Public Safety said. Because there are no seat belts, restrictions on capacity don't apply. And because no one is charged for the transportation, the contract workers who drive the vans are not regulated either.

Mr. Reed is obeying the wrong law. Jimmy One Shoe obeyed another law: his life's. I spot these people all the time and it always conflicts me. I look at them and say, "He's too human. He's too interested in retaining his humanity. He doesn't know they are going to shred him to pieces. Nothing counts in this world unless it makes money." And yet, I know which laws will win in the end.

Jimmy - in stereotypical fashion - used firewater to blunt his pain. For him, it was truly a medication, not a crutch. He was so friendly and unassuming you couldn't help but like him and I loved it he was faithful to his culture regardless of what it cost him in terms of "success". He said his ancestors were storytellers and no matter how hokey someone might say his tales were later on, everyone listened to Jimmy. Reject it all you want, but we're always fascinated by the truth.

For Jimmy, life was about keeping the storytelling alive. He came alive when he had an audience and in that moment he shined to the heavens. He shamed the part of me that says I have to harden myself and grab the cash. In my eyes he will always be a towering hero, never selling out. To the mainstream world he was just another drunk Indian. Jimmy died when he was hit by a drunk driver while he himself was drunk crossing a street. I cried when I heard it, but I don't think I was just crying for Jimmy alone.

Let us hope the heavens that swallowed up his honest soul appreciate him more than this dying globe ever did.