Simple Physics

What’s wrong with swigging a bottle of Old No. 7 Black Label and singing along to “Sweet Leaf” by Sabbath at maximum volume at the top of my lungs as I’m cruising down the highway? It’s not like I can’t handle it. I once drove from Dallas to Austin with a head full of high powered acid. The trick is to keep your eye on the yellow centerline, even if the road itself ceases to exist.

According to quantum physics, matter is an illusion anyway. If nothing exists but the luminiferous aether doesn’t it make sense to ‘open the doors of perception’ at least a little while traveling by car? What could be more irresponsible than operating heavy machinery while blinded by sober delusion?

Just try explaining this to a California Highway Patrol officer. I did, and it just seemed to make matters worse. The cop mind is not made to wrap around the subtle truths of quantum mechanics, and such intellectual challenges just seem to make that taser trigger finger itch like crazy.

In any case, I find myself with a little extra time on my hands in a small cold room with a stainless steel toilet.
Good thing matter is an illusion.


The First Commission

I’m not gay, but I am Catholic.
And we’ve all heard the distressing tales of Cannibalistic Glory hole dwelling homunculi, lurking in the darkness, blood and semen dripping from their jowls, hungry for more tidbits of vile, bloated flesh.
But Father MacGregor knew; and I, Congressman Craig Lichtenstein, knew that these aberrations not only feed violently and unsolicitedly on the most tender of male organs, but they also detest the concept of free enterprise and dismiss the teachings of Our Lord  Jesus Christ. Cannibalistic glory hole dwelling homunculi hate America. And with such knowledge comes great responsibility.

The children needn’t know these grisly truths. The children needn’t know that cannibalistic glory hole dwelling homunculi possess two rows of short and hook-like teeth on each upper jaw and one row on each lower jaw. The children needn’t know the torment of a slow, painfully excruciating death as a result of penile amputation or mutilation. The children need only be warned of the lethal perils involved in engaging in homosexual acts.

I sat across from old Father MacGregor in his dimly lit study. Dusty books filled the shelves that lined the walls of the darkened chamber. The old priest gummed a soggy cigar and spoke gruffly between strained, feeble breaths.
“You mustn’t fear the homunculi, my child.” he explained.
“These vile creatures embody the Seven Capital Vices, and are therefore weak in their very nature. They are frail in character and their very existence is an abomination.”
A long stream of slobber dribbled from the corner of his mouth. Disgrazia!” he cried.

The priest tried desperately to calm himself. After a wild fit of coughing and hacking he put his handkerchief to his lips then pulled it away in order to examine the consistency of the bloody discharge. He groaned and stuffed the fouled square of thin fabric into his coat pocket and fixed his pious gaze on me.
“Will you be the one, my child?”

An awkward silence followed while the priest attempted to clear a stubborn, gurgling gelatinous ball of mucous from his throat. I cautiously moved to the edge of my seat, unsure of what to do or say.
“Well Father, I…” my response was interrupted by a shower of righteously indignant spittle as he continued.
“Will you be the one…” he leaned forward and pounded both fists on his heavy, mahogany desk.
“To hunt down these retched beasts?”
He shrieked excitedly.
“To exterminate these filthy vermin? To rid the world of this, this, this evil depravity and wretched demonic scourge…”
The old man was red in the face and
slavering with rage. I knelt at his feet and clutched at his robes, weeping, desperate to calm his crazed, yet righteous passion.
“I will Father! I will do what you ask of me!”
And I fell into his lap sobbing uncontrollably. And his turgid erection throbbed against my cheek, a sign that he could now rest in contented ease.

The burden was mine now, and mine alone.

“From this moment forth, my child,” Father MacGregor warned. “We shall not speak of this.”
And with a kiss on my forehead from his saintly lips, he sent me on my way. I strode proudly through the halls into the ornate cathedral, my footsteps echoing throughout the vast structure. I flung open the church doors and marched into the starless night. A soldier, a crusader on a mission from God.

The Crime of Obedience

Obedience \O*be”di*ence\, n.
The act of obeying, or the state of being obedient;  submission to authority; dutifulness.

Autumn – the leaves are changing color and falling, the fruits are ripening, the kids are back in school, learning the lessons necessary to become happy productive members of this society. Wars are raging on many fronts, with yet another looming on the horizon. It is the season of attack ads and vague threats of terror, signaling that elections are imminent.

The people will once again demand change, perhaps more ‘movements’ will arise, more rallies, more protests.

What will it take to turn things around? Demonstrations? Assassinations? It’s all been done before, the results are the same. So what haven’t we tried?

What about disobedience? What about total and utter rejection of authority, rulers and officials? Sure, throughout history there have been advocates of civil disobedience – Percy Bysshe Shelley, Henry David Thoreau, Gandhi. These people accomplished great things, but how many of us grew up listening to the words of John Lennon? And how many of us have held on to his philosophies and internalized those beliefs? In contemporary times, how many citizens have stood in the face of government and said, “No, I will not pay your taxes and tolls.” How many soldiers have said, “No! I will not kill for you!” How many cops have said, “No! I will not enforce your laws!”

It happens, but never on a large scale.

Maybe its time to seriously reevaluate the value of government, weigh the benefits against the detriments. What is it that we receive in exchange for allowing ourselves to be deceived, oppressed and exploited? Safety? Security? Public order?

How secure are you feeling lately?

Do you REALLY need to be led?
Like a dog?

Trust me, roads would get built, our children would get educated, and we just might experience true freedom.

I have nothing new to say, people have been deliberating these issues since the beginning of civilization. All I ask, if you’ve read this far, is to consider what would happen if we all put our pet causes, objectives and ambitions aside, and simply disobeyed.

In the words of Percy Bysshe Shelley:

“Stand ye calm and resolute,
Like a forest close and mute,
With folded arms and looks which are
Weapons of unvanquished war.
And if then the tyrants dare,
Let them ride among you there,
Slash, and stab, and maim and hew,
What they like, that let them do.
With folded arms and steady eyes,
And little fear, and less surprise
Look upon them as they slay
Till their rage has died away
Then they will return with shame
To the place from which they came,
And the blood thus shed will speak
In hot blushes on their cheek.
Rise like Lions after slumber
In unvanquishable number,
Shake your chains to earth like dew
Which in sleep had fallen on you-
Ye are many — they are few”