Questions for Review: Bodies

    How are the dead raised up?

    With a mighty whoosh, propelled by gases and burning at thousands of degrees. A violent wind filling the entire house. And fire like a flood, separating on the head of everyone, burning everything. Heart pounding within the throat. Blood splashed across the mirror. How is this possible? Historically? It is a mystery written in fire and in flame.

    And with what body do they come?

    Literally melting skin from their bodies like a horrific fireball. The lucky incorruptible survive – not subject to decomposition. Subject to char and to ash. Subject to cinder. A body of glory in black smoke. It is searching – not weakness. It is clawing in the dirt, flailing at broken windows, refusing to die.

    What is the ‘Spiritual Body’?

    Dormant for centuries, pent up, waiting for release. Like a plague. Razor-like shards of faces and torsos squeezed through the emergency exit. Bodies pulled from the iron furnace. Bodies under a shower of iron arrows.

    What are the four stages of the resurrection of these bodies?

    1) Men come back to their physical senses. What held them back? A bullet in their brains. 2) Petite women dragging themselves through an inferno, screaming through the smoke. Women armed with blowtorches. 3) Men of strength and security - a skeleton crew in the catacombs. Same agenda. Different crew. 4) Women breathing – barely. Coughing. Staggering. Screaming for policemen in the distance. Rushing toward from the fire in a spontaneous display of rage.

    Has the leak been sealed?

    Position his arms on the patibulum­ - the horizontal – and his legs on the stipes – the vertical. The largest of soldiers swung his mallet and drove a wrought-iron spike through his wrist.

    Has the leak been sealed? Answer me.

    The leak was sealed, but the seals have been broken.

    What two purposes will the tribulation period serve?

    Slam the prisoners against the wall. Pin them there with a fire hose spray. Turn off the spray. Watch them fall to the floor. God will change these vile bodies so they can enter locked rooms, vanish from sight and appear in the clouds. There is no guarantee except exhaustion.

    Who is the beast of prophecy?

    AntiChrist. False Prophet. Slight of build and two inches shorter than me. Just another spoiled American, complaining. The local cops kick in the door, en masse for the arrest. Watch for a wicked chemical flash like napalm on white skin, bubbling black like burnt asphalt. Then comes the end – though none of it makes sense without the handcuffs.

    What is a literal interpretation of prophecy?

    More smoke than an oil refinery. More shit than a proctologist.

A MAGA Manifesto

    The following was sent to our newsroom with a demand that it be published immediately – without redaction. We’ve chosen to publish it – with minor edits. Though the letter was received unsigned, we trust the reader will understand who they are. We publish it reluctantly, fully aware of the danger of giving such voices a platform – but aware, also, of the danger in ignoring those voices.

    Christ has no saints other than us. Believe it.

    We will have no further need for evidence, for facts, citations, or documents. We have the all-vulgarity we need. And the abuse, you absolute dumbass. Your own mother would have flushed you if she had half a thought. [Further vulgarities redacted].

    We have the administrative machinery to enforce our will. We will determine the order. We will determine the times and the seasons – and, with forged timecards and behavioral inconsistency, change them. Trust the unrepentant liar, convicted fraud, serial adulterer. He will show us the way through this liberal hoax.

    The physical deformity of your eyes, like a disease. You don’t even know. How can you hear? Deaf angels will not hear your prayers. The tongue of the Lord is loosed, and the infant of days will die. Your mainline apostate churches will be burned. A host of heaven destruction. An ashtray mountain. A severed ecclesiastical head. Call it a necessary rectification. And pray that we don’t come too soon.

    We will live long upon the land – this land. Our land. We will not die. We will not lose. Not in the midterm elections. Not in this present age. The AntiChrist will Christ against the Church. This is how you will know. Our glorified bodies – real and physical – not subject to death. Without doctors. Without scientists. Not beholden to laws. A special knowledge through quantum faith entanglement. Being able to vanish and appear at will, not limited by physical matter, defying gravity for upward movement, moving from earth to heaven with speed of thought.

    Follow the straight-line blessing of the Old Testament to true-patriot Americanism. The Muslim idolater, the soft, the fornicator, all the socialist institutions of higher learning are drunk with the blood of the martyrs. [Ethnic and abelist slurs redacted] But not for very much longer. We are coming for you. Believe it.

Holy Communion Action Trailer

Visual	Audio
INT. CHURCH – DAY A shirtless, glistening priest, wearing only his cleric collar, holds a loaf of bread. His muscles bulge as he tears the loaf in half.	V.O. The body!
CLOSEUP A golden chalice filled with deep-red wine sloshes, throwing wine onto the camera lens.	V.O. The blood!
BLACKOUT	V.O. This is Holy Communion!
MONTAGE OF ACTION SHOTS 1. Exploding tanker trucks. 2. A thurible swings, releasing incense like battlefield smoke. 3. Uniformed police officer pursues a man through a dirty alleyway. 4. Stained-glass window shatters.	V.O. And so, in remembrance of these, your mighty acts, in Jesus Christ, we offer ourselves in praise and thanksgiving.
FADE TO BLACK	V.O. And now, with the confidence of children of God, let us pray.
EXT. DAY Slow-motion ravens fly across the sky. A child looks up in wonder.	CONGREGATION Our Father, who art in heaven (voices fade)
INT. CHURCH – DAY The bread and wine are displayed on the altar. The priest lifts the chalice. J.J. Abrams’ lens flares appear.	V.O. Go forth to die… no more!
TITLE CARD: “Holy Communion”	V.O. Coming this Sunday.

Let Them Stay

    The world of light and laughter breaks and the sky collapses, spilling darkness. The stars and wind dissolve. The moon burns black. The fundamental earth beneath and the firmament above are inverted.

    “Your cousin, John, is dead.”

    Jesus buckles, stumbles, pushes the messenger away. Pushes past the disciples and climbs into the boat. Alone. And the sea carries him away to a lonely place.

    But the village, not privy to the bad news delivered, follows on foot, racing along the shore to meet him on the other side. He steps ashore and they are there – calling, crying, cawing, clawing, galling. They brought to him all the intrusive demands born of desperation.

    And he sees them through his tears. He sees them with broken pity. Passion is pain and compassion is a shared grief. He heals their sick and calms their fears. Touching. Holding. Weeping. Soothing. Blessing.

    The invisible sun settles itself toward evening and the disciples say, “This is a lonely place and you want to be alone. Now it’s late and time has slipped with the sun. Why don’t you send these people away?”

    Jesus sits down among them on the whispering grass and sighs. “No,” he says. He lies down and closes his eyes. “Let them stay. Let them stay.”

    (Matthew 14:13-16)

More from the Mental Junk Drawer

    There are more drawers in the curio cabinet than I expected. And more unsorted junk. Open a draw and pull out a sample.

    His mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 2:22-23). That’s what they tell me, and I try to believe it – but why haven’t my morning glories bloomed yet?

    Capitalism engenders pride – I did this. I deserve this.
    Socialism engenders humility – I couldn’t have done this alone.

    Broadly speaking of course, but I think it’s true. Still, an acquaintance of mine writes to tell me that, “Pride is the root of original sin, and it leads to greed. Socialism is a flawed philosophy since all humans bear the burden of original sin.” Perhaps he is right, but I wonder if he’d apply his analysis to capitalism as well…

    Is So-and-So a prick or a prince? Hard to say – they’re usually the same.

    It is what it is, until it isn’t. So on, and so what?