PUTIN BANNED MICROWAVES, VACCINES AND FAST FOOD BECAUSE THEY ARE bad for their people.

I pick up the microphone not knowing what the hell I am going to say, what the world is going to hear from the voice of the revolution....   Just start talking, like I did when I was doing Improv comedy on the radio show the CIA set me up with, way back in the beginning of Operation Bluebeam, a much happier time,   "Here in the wild west the RICH OLIGARCHY can subject citizens to tyranny's against life,  ban organic food for GMO'S, something else RUSSIA REFUSED.   WE NEED TO LOOK to other countries to help the revolutionaries in this country to achieve real change.  China and Russia are taking a stand against the UNITED NATIONS, WHERE THE US dollar is king, and no one can call Israel on their crimes against humanity because the USA uses their superpower country vote to SQUASH ALL CALLS TO STOP THE GENOICDE IN PALASTINE.   WE MUST congratulate their leadership in leaving the ROTHSCHILDS'S BANKS INTO HISTORY... by using their own currencies.  The sane parts of the world will follow them, and their debts will not.  They will be dealing with fair, local banks, if they do this right.   The dollar, we automatically start out in debt to the jews when printed, because they get money for every dollar printed.  Makes no sense.  No one wants them there except the power brokers they prop up, and the threat of death that surrounds fucking with the FEDERAL RESERVE.   We have no choice now in the USA except to fund unfair wars and evil governments throughout the world because of OUR ELECTED OFFICIALS HAVE BEEN BOUGHT BY A TINY MINORITY THAT NOW OWNS THIS COUNTRY, AND MOST ARE FOREIGNERS, WITH LESS ALLEIGENCE TO THE USA THAN ISRAEL..... Jfk tried to warn people about the ZIONISTS....  now all politicians in higher positions must pledge allegiance to the star of David or be thrown out of office, they will pay enormous amounts of money to the opponent of anyone who dares go against them.  The media will hate them, along with the  Jews.  No good newspaper stories, they own all of them.  No movies, they control those... no tv or news that gets to people in the old ways of newspapers and nightly news///  just stories so far away from what matters that most do not watch them... and those who do are carefully led to believe the official stories, after everyone who talks about nine eleven is thrown out of work.  Or dead.
The Jews blew up the buildings on nine eleven and opened the entire middle east up for a war, to knock out seven countries, General Petraeus saw on a memo.  

This they are still dying for, our soldiers.  This they are made to sleep three hours a night for a year, messing with their heads something fierce, as they are turned into killing machines, monsters who kill or die.    I do not want any soldiers on foreign soil  NONE.

I have a solution though a lot of people will not like it, when I impose a dictatorship on them, because they will not trust that I WILL IN TEN YEARS TURN A CLEAN VOTING SYSTEM TO A DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC.    We will cut the military budget to ten percent.   They will have to stop fighting in all sorts of places, and the US has forces, or proxy armies fighting in only God knows how many countries... a lot, most hidden, where they fund locals to do their bidding.  They pay people to get people to revolt, then fund them, arm them, start an attack on a legitimate government that is banking outside the system.  Who is easily overwhelmed, parceled and sold, and run by a friendly dictator.  AFTER DESTROYING THE countries ability to wage war against Israel.  We should not be their ally.  I LEND MY SUPPORT TO THE EFFORTS OF RUSSIA AND CHINA IN THIS FIGHT against the world being controlled by bankers, of all fucking people, who feel they are from the chosen people, and others are animals.   I do not want people like that in charge of the world of media and entertainment, the stuff that most often fill our minds.  The sickness of the mind, inserted in one, that transfers it to another, like a virus.  BELIEF REPLACES FACT.  We must return to facts, and they say a peoples revolution is on the way, and two other countries are leading this, and we in the USA must look at ourselves as resistance fighters... and more importantly to those some who are already out there in the underground, fighting as we live on, while all the sheep who know nothing of the secret war did nothing, did have that nightmare in the minds... did not live as a soldier in the context of war.  Thank you for listening to me.  Remember, this is hard for all of us to believe, and then even harder after that.  No time to quit smoking, maybe time to start.   I am not the God Baccus, though I certainly created him, and he is based on my propensity to party, sometimes too much, as I have lived these countless lives as a human who wakes up this alien, a creature from another planet on a mission, a man with an Impossible seeming job, that may not be set to come fruition for thousands of years...   a person who has added a nuance to a society here, that flowed to there... started a religion at some point, that lasted awhile, until a society with greater force took over, and their gods were thought greater for winning the battle.  A time when gods won or lost battles and were treated as such.

I always feel empty after the broadcasts, and relieved to have them over.  I cannot eat much at this point, or sleep without taking a lot of pills, and I kind of hate to do that, enjoy being awake when the buzz of the drugs are in my system.   I have to put a wall between myself and the dead.   I cannot celebrate causing this kind of pain to the living, the survivors.   I know I am right.   I know what will happen if I do nothing, or lose.   I know the consequences and tactics say I have done exactly what I needed to do to win this war, prove to my enemy they cannot win what they want... are better off leaving us alone, retreating off the continent.  Giving us our way for now.   The population still remains stubborn in some areas, clinging to the thought that since the food stamps were still coming, the social security and the welfare, since the garbage was still being picked up, trucks were on the road, the factories and starbucks open in their city, that the soldiers surrounded them are nothing more than added safety, not a sign they are set for attack.  The US Armed forces were being replaced, with brutal efficiency, led into traps and gassed.  Chemical weapons had been used by ISIS all across Syria from the start of the conflict, the RED LINE IN SYRIA OBAMA SWORE IF THEY CROSSED HE WOULD ATTACK, THEN THEY HAD THIER PEOPLE SET OFF CHEMICAL WEAPONS and blamed them on President Assad.   They wanted him out.   They sent in soldiers from the states who died, as they were in Afganistan, Iraq, and various small worlds around the world.  Entire camps were poisoned.  The US government could not trust them.  We got to a lot of them before the government did, but they moved on them fast, quicker than we thought they would.   Caught us by surprise.   I should have known, because we planned to appeal to these soldiers and would have grown our forces with them, had to a degree, with some isolated Navy ships and submarines helping us...   after it became common knowledge from our broadcasts and others checked out the evidence, those remaining in the armed forces came to our side, just in time to keep the FEMA killings from sweeping up too many of them.

Years it took me, so many ... to realize this world was broken up into factions that ruled behind the scenes, groups mob like in their use of crime and murder as a way to shut someone up from talking about them, but people who the law never comes after -- the law is a group onto itself and does not want trouble with other groups.   They are one, racists whites another, racist blacks and blacks who are just fighting, and white Christians, and communists and creatures called eagles, who are the politicians....  those who have sold out completely and are working in politics, which has become a vehicle to control people, and use various methods to disable the revolutions they predicted were going to sprouting up all over when the one percent made their move, and stole all the wealth by making the poor and middle class pay taxes to run the government, while they got tax breaks enough for the entire infrastructure of the USA to be in jeopardy.


ODD you would think the Christ taking this position.   I came before to reform Judaism, and start a religion that would one day win any battle against them, because they would have me.   The bibles are right sometimes, and saying false Jews would have power was obvious, because a lot of Rabbi's were considered corrupt back then, for charging too much for sacrificial birds at the high holidays, etc.... and growing rich and fat from the working persons dollar, and doing nothing in return all year.  A fraud, and the Essenes, the sect I came from, in Nazareth, Essenes, held that only work with your hands was God's work, and look askance at anyone who just worked with words and figures.... kind of interesting, they were also communists, who threw everything into a fund, where all had enough money from, and they believed in dressing modestly.  They did not go the sacrifices in the city.....  the bible makes up me preaching to Rabbi's when I was twelve.   I was a listener when I was twelve, but not to Rabbi's, just simple carpenters.    When the revolution started I found I could speak as well, that Poet wrote my preaching...   I told them we must go to war against Rome, as my comrades did...  we thought we could win.   Everyone was always revolting back then.  Rome was putting down revolts all over the world, people did not like this suddenly slavery being imposed on them.  The Jews especially hated this, the ones who were not prosperous from the system, who of course were the leaders, who went along with Rome the most.

I think of dusty Jesus, who often stank, after walking all day on the roads there in the end, when my disciples and  I were out fighting, and on the run.  We became wanted, my name known.  My parents were beaten to find out where I was and that they did not know made the hurt all the worse, all the long.   I wanted revenge for that and the crucified ZEALOTS Rome liked to display to keep others from daring to challenge the invader, who put up their CEASER as some kind of God, an affront that the ESSENES did not take kindly with.   Indeed they hated the ideas of kings altogether, who usually back then started in with being a God too... history had been filled with them up to that point, but not with the Jews.   Many thought he was the Messiah there to lead the Jews against the Romans, and they would win.   I was there to start a religion, and a cross was required.


This life the  Christ is revealed in Scott, the usual package, intelligent, royalty, handsome, whatever it takes to succeed enough in this world to learn about the secret governments, where power really lay, and as always, history said those with the big bucks.   Slave masters have the money, not slaves.  I learned this in life after life, start me at the top, where I can learn everything I need to know to fight the enemy.  God places me quite carefully in life.  I am always born in a place at a time where I would be needed.  I came as a Native American to die with them, and bring them hope as THE DRUNKEN GHOST MASTER, who led a failed revival, saying the white man would be banished from the USA, and a lot of defeated people went back to war.  They failed.   Still, his movement is written up as a huge matter at the time, worried the whites that a holy warrior appeared and was stirring up the tribes.   They needed to believe in something and better a lie for awhile, to not die inside for awhile....  the best I could do was give them a reason to live in the midst of the hell their life had now become, in just a few generations the entire world had changed for them, when they were invaded by a cruel, and genocidal western world.

I wrote a bit about the webcams.  They thought I wanted them I think.  Though  I obviously hated them, especially because when they were on, certain people took cues from my life, etc...   I did not know the extent.   I could not figure out why the media was so intent on mentioning me, but I know now that a webcam had been in my house, and people thought they were watching a show because Ii talked to the bugs, bitched at them, etc....  they had upended my life and oppressed me, then asked me about myself, and set me up for leadership of groups I did not know existed.  Others working behind the scenes did so much in my name, that for the people to have finally seen the truth, that I hated every damn one of those cameras, and had been given no choice... people were watching me, even in my bathroom as I reacted to a world seemingly gone mad.

Now I know my place, of course, the Ghosts knew what I would do with the nukes, I guess... or did they?   They sure as hell were intent on making sure I had enough of a killer inside me to shoot four men in the forehead at point blank rage...   for twenty five years I waited, until I began to think they were mad men, except for the sensors they had installed in my hand.... the ever present reminder that my life would one day change dramatically... I HAD NO IDEA THAT spies were all around me, around the kid who grew wings.  They felt honored to know about me.

I become the creator of the reality that I am situated within.  This might be difficult to describe, or understand, though this happens, I think about something a lot, write it, and it manifests.  For awhile this meant to people that I HAD WRITTEN UP A REVOLUTION that failed, to others I had just started one, and we lost a battle....  and would one day come back together, ignited under ideas, not whose territory this is on, or who is going to lose a fortune.  The thirty eight families with over eighty percent of the riches of the world, must be declared illegal, and most of the wealth confiscated.  AN ACT OF WAR IS REQUIRED....  acts of war.  We began by taking out those behind the politicians, the donors and lobbyist's, made their death rate... well, no one was taking those jobs anymore at all.  Like others, that they knew they would have to live under twenty four seven security forever or we will strike, hard and deadly and with over kill to use the dead as grisly displays to those who will not go along with OUR SHADOW GOVERNMENT. 

No one knew who we were and we seemed to come out nowhere.  They existed long before me, the powers whom I ended up standing in the middle of, as they all drew their guns and got ready to shoot it out... lord, we needed to band together and we were fighting because the kings of some of these groups are very wealthy, and they have a system for bestowing wealth, become a mason, etc... get with the program, the secret societies.   They certainly offered me that and more though God told me at the beginning of this to join no group, start your own, and if they would not follow your morality, see if they need to be fighting with you, and if not, get rid of them.    I have had to make allies with a lot of groups, but in the beginning the groups were using me.  They set up the webcams, even had people worshipping me, and put me on webcast twenty four seven and my numbers were phenomenal, entire countries entranced by watching me and reading my writing.   I could not stand it, thinking it was a few bugs who released embarrassing, and sometimes flattering, things out about me in the news.  I caught the reference to my life, and figured no one else did, but they watched the broadcast of God, or an Angel, OR a demigod or a writer and actor or a criminal and a killer and a cult leader...  man, how people looked at me and I had no idea....  I resented the cameras and bitched at them, pretended they took my orders, though they never really seemed to, of  course, unless it was madness to discredit me.   I know that I wrote scathingly of prosperity ministers and soldiers began killing them, and their congregations.  I heard about it and did not make the connection at the time, just went, 'Wow I was just writing about that and here..."  but it was a tv show telling me this, one that regularly referred to my life, and seemed set about helping me, though they criticized me.... we were a connection of communication.   I had no idea when after I wrote about this they had an angel kill a minister and his congregation, then this same angel killing a politician and her staff, after I criticized blue dog democrats and one was shot in the face....   was that all the news reported, and I saw the truth on the tv show.  When the FBI interrogated me, at first they assumed I knew about the cults doings, and those who tried to kill them, for God's sake the irony is not lost on me...   they are tricky, though I defeat them, of course, because I know that I will, it is just a matter of killing my enemy.   Walking thru the piles of friends and foes alike.

I became surrounded by dead bodies in this fight, first a wave of assassin's the CIA KJLLED during the period they were bragging of being my friend, because I saved twenty five of their jobs under bush, thinking he would be firing the liberal ones... when in actuality they had attacked and destroyed the lives THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE when my group was entirely peaceful, and even the FBI announced that the group I was a part of had not caused any violence, but the CIA ATTACKED THINKING THE USA HAD BEEN INVADED, AND THEN took revenge on any who were on the fronts of that first battle....  to keep them off their computers, where the revolution I worked with seemed to almost start,  and so they amputated the arms from people who I took into the first assault.  Most lived but not all, and the core, those who expected this revolution to win, had no idea I was part of a mission that was written for me fifty years before, and expanded on ever since, to use me.... to fight for a certain side in a war, the boy who grew wings would give someone  God on their side.


The rich knew about me.  When they announced me on TV it was with commercials with a fat rich man laying in a pile of money saying we bring you angels, just that.   I took it the rich had funded my life, the security, the study, and of course that would explain their involvement with me... or some reason came up, whatever, they thought they needed me, threw me in a hospital for three days to make me more moral, that was my bootcamp for working with intelligence.   They did about everything else.  They had no idea how bloody things were going to get.....   I can barely think about the violence of the past, after the nukes I had just set off.  The one in California would free the nuclear power of a plant on the coast, spewing radiation out into the ocean, destroying all fishing up and down the coast, beachfront property became worthless -- worse than that, deadly....  uninhabitable, for eighty miles both ways and around the plant, which was spewing radioactive dust into the sky that would blow across the city at times and they had masks they wore, those who were forced to be in the area.  

Of government camps had plenty of room, as they announced twenty four hours a day on their station, and the only tv channel they were letting thru showed tearful families finally safe from the ISIS scare, that create army....  I wanted the heads of the elite on posts leading up to the white house, going a mile out...   of everyone who I gave a chance to, saved, twice, when  I had the mafia at my back, unknowingly.  Later, when I found out that they had set up webcams in my house and were paid hundreds of millions of dollars for different things, like my using their products, would cause a big boost in sales.


I was sold and it was hell.   I could not figure out why people were interested in messing me after the incident in 2007, when they tried operation bluebeam and I refused to go along, play Christ to create a only world religion, leading to a one world government, controlled by their unknowing puppet, the Christ, the rock star, the glib man everyone loved listening to.... the seemingly wise man, one of many years of education to repeat back at people who were not so fortunate.   God truly surprised the CIA... they thought they would use that I grew wings as a child for their advantage.  But I was not moral enough for them, when in reality I am moral as hell, was just going thru a period of being pissed at God for not being there, as he usually was in my life...  I had come to depend on the idea of a higher power, but my education made the religious people seem so out dated and wrong thinking.  Religion is easy to criticize as a way of saying there is not God;  the wise person finds God despite religion, not because of it.

I think my thoughts as we walk.... the night is the second, we have been going the entire time, taking speed and pain pills, we cannot stop.  The Dunes were attacked when we blew Chicago.  That pissed them off too much.  They were not attacking because I had the nukes and they thought we had an agreement.   I was not going to let them FEMA camp all the citizens of Chicago, nor was I going to let the armies that had gathered around Chicago, Most of ISIS, live to fight another day.  I put us well ahead in the fight for the country.  Already our show proving that the FEMA camps were leading to slaughter camps, complete with footage I would not watch, which was on line for three minutes before the censors found it, was seen by enough, that it spread across the country, until the scam was no longer working.  FEMA workers were being killed across the country;   people were pissed.  The guards, the house cleaning department, the nurses in the clinic.   INNOCENT PEOPLE.   Just on the wrong side at the wrong time.


We have no choice except to travel by foot, as hundreds of thousands of other refugee's were, allowing us to fit in, and go un-noticed.  On the roads they would be checking our ID'S and trying to get us to board buses to FEMA CAMPS, sometimes by drawing weapons these days.   It was funny, their commercials continue on tv, showing the gorgeous camps.  And they exist, people, who against all logic, believe only the government about this... not a man, me, who the government claims is part of ISIS. 

They know, most by now, what Isis is, the witnesses of the mercenaries coming into town, the capture of fighters from all over the world, the...  their cover was blown to the point that they were not always wearing any costume at all anymore, came in driving regular army and nation  trucks....

They had not expected organized resistance at the level we are throwing at them.   They are going to plan B or scrambling around with no plan B, which is more their style, I found working in intelligence.   The mercenaries ran from their battles with us, because the Christians died without care, and there was no defense against a swarm of them with guns....  they were told this would be easy, they would set up camps, the people would be sent to them, they would give them vaccinations supposedly needed because the enemy used biological warfare, then they will sleep and ... die.   The merc's were also there for the hold outs, the people who knew about this and would resist, underground groups, who were ready to fight them....  they ran from their attacks too.  They were there to make money, and no money is worth dying over.   The enemy had underestimated the motivation of a people defending their lands.


I picture our old map of the USA from the planning room, an aged looking document at this point, folds all over, holes from all the pins moving around as we fought.  Now the western boarder of the USA was being evacuated, economy had crashed, and the people were panicked....   they were running if they lived nuclear power plants, because it was now common knowledge that the resistance had rigged them all over the country.   They were going to take over the country and right the government and laws and set up a democratic republic with seven or eight parties.   The East coast was much better, our naval ships at the coast, and the submarines who no one knew where they were at all, who could surface and fire nuclear weapons to anywhere on the planet.   Way too many of them are out there, waiting, from both sides.   No one wanted to shoot first, so I did.

Reports from the crew we left behind to defend the dunes and give us time to escape are better than we could have expected.   They were well armed though still only nine.  They were constant mortar fire that scorched the sand all around them, and filled the drifts with the contorted bodies of the enemy.   They had automatic, computer controlled, constant firing machine guns, armor piercing bullets....  the soldiers were firing tanks back at them.  Missiles.  THEY WERE dug in pretty deep, in reinforced tunnels in the dunes with escape hatches enough for them to maybe even escape, with uniforms from the merc's they had stashed for the attempt.


I wanted them off the Dune, told them they had given us enough time... that meant to blow Napalm all over the dune, and about nine hundred yards below, where the cars of the cops and the merc's and... were gathered.   We knew where they would be.   I knew where they would be.  We were careful when we chose the dunes, right down to easy to dig escape tunnels, which was how we evacuated in the end, when they finally contained control of the south side of the Dunes, and all escape that way was cut off.


We are headed to a trailer out in a woods in Idaho, where there is an underground headquarters, the place they had built to ride out the storm in the Midwest, should it come to nuclear conflicts, we could at least live to fight another day.   Even after a nuclear war there will be place unspoiled where everyone will want to live, but there will not be enough room and money will be worthless, probably turn to barter pretty quick after the nukes... should they....  start taking out the USA.   I WILL not be the one to order that, though there are those, here when I joined the army,  who claim any victory the elite has over us will be Phyrric.   I tell the elite this too,,,,  I do not want to do this.  The animals and plants and.... it will all die, over a human war, or I will just give it to the murderers....  I think some days I want to leave them ash, and another day I look at my cat and wonder if I could even sacrifice him, though I know he will live in spirit, I will miss him.   Ah, life.  What is it about an eternal soul that longs to stay in the flesh.  I suspect a form of Stockholm syndrome.

The spirit is not in pain, the flesh is... I feel more needed here.  Whether I am to bandage the wounded or end the plant as a living, breathing entity.   I have enough nukes to start the winter they fear, the one the eventually kills the atmosphere.   The ash causing a greenhouse effect of great magnitude.   Only people alive would be in the government shelters, as elaborate as some were, that were sold to private concerns.  Under ground, post nuclear bomb living is all the rage with the filthy rich.  Like tom cruise who evidently does not believe in scientology to save the world, as predicted by old el ron his psycho self, because he has   a five million dollar underground house in case of a nuclear attack, he wants to live in style.

I wonder about the Scientologists, though now that I know we are on the same side in the big fight I am not against them, I do not think.   Steven Colbert tried to warn me off them, but I found they were east and I was east and I had to understand they are this secret society that is up to something, and I have not really been privy to this....   I read an interesting quote from a scientologists, saying in his auditing sessions he would go back to past lives and often see this hand on a level flying a space ship and all this shit..... maybe that is why they love it?   I too believe in past lives but I am not going to build a religion on peoples old memories, or pretend they are anything more than they are, proof souls, living inside human flesh.   FLESH THAT CAN DIE AND SPIRIT THAT CANNOT... SPIRIT THAT flies to the heavens.  Relieved, usually,


All souls go to heaven,   Some flesh makes a stop first, in  a hell I designed for them, over the years. Particularly cruel people are given a reminder of why they do not want to behave that way in a life, and are left human enough to feel all of the pain they ever caused in their life, in a manner that feels like an eternity, a maddening, never ending hell for eternity,  who I finally let out and who are so relived to be in heaven that their every pain and hatred and urge to act as they had is burnt out from them, and they are like new souls to be born again, after a brief break enjoying the feel of the Father's love, and confirm there is a Son of God above, as there was a Son of Man below.  Two different beings.


The first night I preached I won over the president of the united states, and he tried to do my bidding, and I did not trust him enough to go along with him in any way shape or form...  I should have trusted hi more.   OR LESS.  DEPENDS.

I am forgiving of those they used a puppet because they came from a certain family.  A fucked up thing to be to someone who was IN THE skull and bones.   None of them matter now.    I am dealing with the president alone after these last attacks.   I brought sanity where there was none.  I do not know if I will be doing that again.   I was unprepared before, just woke up to being this immortal being with powers I barely understand, that protect me from all harm, amazingly, and too often others.

We are coming out of a woods, and they see us....    a truck full of mercenaries who have been hunting us since we left the Dunes...   they are disembarking, behind the truck are four tents, and soldiers laying around looking off duty, surrounded by the slave women, drinking and smoking hookas that are obviously filled with weed.   This is the time when I show my soldiers what kind of leader they are dealing with in battle.   I set the laser eyes on automatic and everyone who I glance at, no matter what they are hiding behind -- and I have infra red and night vision, dies...  I set the eyes for gruesome kills, cutting off heads, bodies in half, etc...  I could use precision kills to the brain that my soldiers would barely see.  Instead I wish these leaders to go to their communities and tell they have seen me walk thru an enemy camp and kill them all, no matter where they were, what they were hiding behind, or how hidden.   I leave the general with them alive.   I have already shown the eyes all of my soldiers and have no danger of harming them, without a separate setting I would obviously not have to use that night.  There would be no deserters, yet...  soon I would have to kill a few to keep discipline, that was the nightmare of war, and why  I would not be getting personally close to anyone I was not already bonded with, Vera, the beautician who never in her life thought she would be huddled between a group of ex navy seals clutching the disguise of God on earth.  James came up to me after the fight, "You get all the fun?"
"This time.  There will plenty of time for you to have some fun."
"Nice display.   They will follow you into hell if you ask now."
"I told you, I freed the souls from hell, and the demons wept and used their tears to wash my feet of the burning ash.  Everyone goes to heaven, James, at least pretend you can keep up with the myth, okay?"
"Myth?
I almost sense his cover personality telling me that anyone who thought I was a myth after that display was insane. "Simple science, James.  You do not want to be the only person alive who knows my secrets."
"No, I sure as hell don't need another bounty on my head."
"Fifteen thousand in Afganistan, from any citizen who could hold a gun.  Sorry you went thru that."
"Hate to tell ya, but since I have been working with you, that has went up considerably."
"You checked?"
"Hell, yes... it gets high enough I'll turn my own ass in for the reward."
"I didn't realize you could do that?"
"Well, guess we better win the revolution so I can make that a law."
"Yes."
"When did you decide to start killing that?   We could have used you before."
"He gives me powers when we really need them."
James is sitting on a foot stool, looking huge with his bent knees, large shoulders, a machine gun leaning against both, his bullet proof vest, with leggings and arms, for bomb attacks -- he had been hit in enough that the equipment was not quite insane... close.

"I think they will follow me into battle with a fair bit of confidence now....  but I won't be everywhere, obviously.  We need to use these eyes as little as possible, save them for...  well, I guess we'll know.  Confidently, I could do that to a battlefield of soldiers.   Shoulda believed me all those times I told we would win."







We get a count of the dead, then take over the truck....   a good find, lots of papers inside, maps of their  camps, the latest intel on where they believed the people from the Dunes were going -- they were mostly wrong.    We are only a few miles from our safe house, though I still have everyone put on the uniforms of the dead, their wet blood and .... a  sickening thing I put myself though of course, taking one the bloodiest.   I error on the side of caution, though I also felt this would be good psychological lesson for the men who were going to lead.  A man who had just slaughtered a platoon by firing blood from his eyes, cutting the in half as they hid behind trucks...  showed caution, not bravado, after what they saw as a display of the miraculous, even the most cynical of the cynics.  They would be leading cynics and those who know who I am.   I must have them able to use the moral, and the seeming miracles would do this.  They are not a lie, I am supernatural, just filled with weapons too horrific to want to use, too wary they could destroy... the entire world.  



We find ourselves in a trailer in the back of a large park of them.   How anonymous I think as we pull in.  The last place they would look for a revolutionary leader on this night.  With a family that has lived here almost twenty years, under cover, ready for the revolution, waiting, waiting, waiting... for the order to come down.    I was in the dark all those years, and was always a little wary of these kind of people, who had watched my life the entire time, as a deity, or as an alien, or as.... the program had built into it all kinds of belief system, depending on which one took precedent....   and various different ways for people to see me, to hide me, confuse them, the old sleight of hand... hiding and showing.   I became a secret the societies told the upper level about, a child who grew wings, that we were in the end times, and angel had arrived, heralding no doubt the end times. 

Due to how I acted, not exactly like Jesus, though morally fair, I did like to make myself out in my writing to be quite a bit more wild than I was.... at least at the time.  I had gone through various favorites, though nothing had happened that I understood as miraculous until  I began to awaken, as I understood I knew more than Scott, and was the servant of a mighty God who had chosen me for a task, and I there is nothing I would rather do than God's will.

The sermons on the radio need to be in the book, as well.   Though I know in the end, if you are anything like me, you will think there is too little actul action describe.  I write my internal dialoge without even explaining what is happening around me.

We spend a lot of time during the day hearing reports, reactions from the various families running things from behind the scenes to my announcement of how I want to lead.  These same groups wanted to make me their king when they thought I would be a figure head, a mascot, who took his huge checks and shut up, came out once in awhile to wear a crown and meet famous people, and the rich and powerful who I hate to even be in the same room with.   I am no one's puppet.  They tried, I would not play along.   Refusing someone's millions is the best way to show them you cannot be bought, the only way for me to be free in this world.  That and not allowing people to worship me.  I am not GOD.   I am the Son Of God, which is very unspecific, and used to describe a state I become in when I grow my soul in human flesh, to be raised as one in a time, and learn as much as  I need to learn about for my mission, which is usually immense, and leading to my becoming a scholar at least, warrior poet being the role I played more than any other, every culture has them.

I hear in today's briefing from soldiers in their twenties who look so fucking young to my fifty five.   They are serious men, though they are honored to be working with me, where the men feel absolutely safe now that they have seen what the lasers in my eyes can do.   When I told them I could take out a landscape of soldiers and armory they cheered....   I brought them back down to earth by adding that I would not be with them all the time.   They would have to fight without me most of time, but I would always have their back.   And because of me we will win.

They believed now that the public was awake we would gain soldiers, and we had, too many.  An army moves on its stomach they say.  Thank God we live in the land of plenty, where many towns supermarkets were fully stocked, and when we came through they were more than glad to fill our trucks, and we paid... with Gold.   Telling them paper money was going to be worthless soon.  They believed us.   If not... well, the places changed ownership occasionally.

My next move will be plane.   A farm a few miles from here, with a crop sprayer that we will take on our last jump to Colorado, where our people have set up a refuge in the state, and the pro pot crowd that has been moving there for years were free will oriented, and would not like ISIS rules about killing drug users.   We had places high in the mountains, armed and ready, with heat seeking missiles, air defense.    I was hoping things would not come down to a fight, but had to be prepared.  They had a studio there for my broadcasts, and producers, directors... they were bringing in co hosts, generals to tell their stories, spies and others who came to our side, a few people who worked on the live list....  confessions from all walks of life that they covertly worked for the government.  Doctors who would talk about the reason medical mistakes were the third leading cause of death in the USA by design,  one arm of a genocide.

They were already broadcasting, along with me, on radio, tv. ham radio....   like myself, they had their own satellite, which was essentially to get the word out... and access, hacked, to others.  The gov. never knew where we were going to spew my words down from, though they carried around the world, and many countries were coming along with us now, practicing the same tactics as myself.  A few had already taken their country, and they had orders to be an example of our courtesy around the world.  The word courtesy I emphasized when I spoke to them.   There were people in our midst, fighting with us, who were working for ISIS, and would try to get looting, theft, etc... started to sour the population on us.   I had such people watched for meticulously, to the point of having the dog tags containing secret listeing devices.  They were not able to infilitrate us.   We had them listed as shipped out, then lost in battle....  to hide from the enemy how we were finding them.   I have learned intelligence work is trying to think a few moves ahead of the enemy.   I am not always, though usually.     I gave them very few options for a reason.   I want control of where we fight.

The Nuking of Chicago had destroyed ISIS higher command, who had been living the high life in downtown high rises, taken from their residents at gunpoint.  They were explained as CIA agents on a mission, the closest to the truth I had heard them say about their mercenary army.   We also took out three regiments they had bivouacked in parks, and near the beach.   They thought the war was going to end in Chicago, years from now....   the last thing they expected was a first salvo, after eight years of waiting, when I moved even further south of the city they should have panicked.   Instead they were surprised I had been hiding in the city.  That I was so close.  The move was not even notice, that I was for the first time in eight years outside the blast zone.  When this started they told me I was not allowed to leave Chicago.  They were taking no chances with me leaving the city then destroying it.  They knew I valued life, my animals, my wife.... and I did not want them harmed.  Made them feel safer than any city, in a way....


No more.  The government channels are calling me the new leader of ISIS.   They claimed the troops in Chicago were army, as they had told the city at the time...  they were not.  The regular army was being exterminated, an entire naval base north of Chicago was gassed with planes, then taken over by the ISIS leaders after we made Chicago a radioactive no man's zone.   They had my whole life story from before, and were going to use the worst video tapes from my years of being monitored, destroy my name in any manner possible, like they had done before, after mistakingly making me a hero of their movement, before I knew what it was... and had to back peddle when I realized I was with a group planning genocide, not saving the world...  and were my enemies.   I am gladden by the thought that no one believes a word they say anymore, though some will still hate me, those who lost family members to the forces who believed they were fighting under my orders, when in actuality the cia and others were subverting my chain of command.   I was used.  Crucified on the absurdity of a reality show, when I thought I was at war with the world...  not commanding certain groups...  a world that would not aide me as the government harassed me in the worst way possible, stealing my very privacy.  Privacy.   Only those who have lost it could imagine how much I missed it.   I talked to the bugs, there was no ignoring them, and often the tv had things on obviously directed toward me that pissed me off.   I had no idea some stations supported me and some did not, had no idea that my idol comments were getting people killed, had no idea my religion had taken over Colorado, California, and other places they refused to tell me, always trying to keep me from knowing how much power I had to fight them.  Though that was before I WAS ALLOWED TO CHOOSE MY ALLIES, RATHER HAVE MY ASS SOLD LIKE A WHORE, FROM PIMP TO PIMP....  I have a lot less, though they are the ones who pass the moral tests.    I do not care if we think differently, I love that about humans, but we must rely on how we will act about a few fundamental actions, then the rest can be do as thou will as long as no one is harmed who does not want to be...   right now, they have a fight or die situation on their hands.  Things will get harder when we are governing.444

They have brought me experts in all sorts of fields, to meet in Colorado and design the ten years of Dictatorship I am going to impose.   The people will not care at first, we are just imposing strict security orders to fight the elite's army, drive them from our shores.  Then  I have to make sure they cannot just finagle their way back across and own everything by the criminal laws they have instigated.   I have my dream that will work, without fail.   People will try to stop me right from the start so I am going to kill the people who I work with with impunity.

The trailer looks large from the outside, a double wide, beige like most of them in the lot, the small front yard is well gardened, shows care and a couple gnomes.   Inside, our crew of ten fills everything up fast.  The windows are covered in light curtains, so I ask the owner to turn off everything except one small lamp.   They feed us spaghetti, which I pass up, too polite to tell them  I am a vegetarian and thinking about eating meat after seeing the muscles inside all the bodies I had in the last few days made the look of flesh...  less appealing than ever.   The killing first brought on my vegetarianism. 

We sleep, some of us.   I hear a few trying to keep anyone from hearing them cry, and that cheers me a bit, reminds me these leaders are heart felt.   They were chosen by James, who knew most of the Chicago gangs, having made it a special job of his to free sexual slaves, running missions all on his own.  Or so he told me.  They give them things to say to me that will appeal to me, make me want to work with them, especially James, who was my contact with the spy world...  direct and deep.    He knew a lot more than he would tell me, and I had come to trust him.   I would not want to clutter my mind with details.   I am focused now on how I will approach the leaders gathered in Denver.  Heads of the families would be there, including mobsters, government officials, China, Russia, Israel, and the heads of banking, the stock exchange.  Before I gave them all breaks, during the time in oh seven when I held a lot of power, I spared them out of ignorance, and believing they would reform.  Now I had come to trust China more than any of the super powers because they were the only ones to say, yes, your work is good, continue, and not try to manipulate me... they know my fight, my mission and support me, without having to believe in God at all, though my presence had greatly increased the number of Christians there, they were moderates as my myself, or they were not tolerated.  We had seen in the USA how extremist religion could be triggered during Operation Bluebeam, average people out there who were willing to kill for their God.  Those longing for my return would do anything to prove to themselves that the killing had meaning.   I simply could not be a fraud, because it would mean their lives would dissolve... and I did this to them, inadvertently.   Some have come back in the fold and others will hate me for what I did when I was a puppet, for the harsh words I meant for enemies who had destroyed my career and life and left me with no answers as to why...

Thank God I exposed myself again to the public, accidently, when I bought cable from a company that had been broadcasting me, and the same group that had made money when they filmed me before, reassembled, and activated a church telling the Christ wanted them to watch him, do certain things when he dressed certain ways, and kill his enemies.... go after those he criticized.   I was not aware of any of this.  Getting stoned and writing a book in the voice of Jesus that the brainwashing left in my mind.   I was crazy half the time in my thinking, it looks from here, a few years later when I have discovered myself, amidst all the lies told about me in the bibles...  I read the Holy Texts looking for answers, and learned a few.  Found a lot of bullshit too.  Wanted to be Jesus removing all the salt from the bible, but I am Scott, and while I will do the same thing in my way, should the species survive after I leave or not, this will more than likely be the last writing that the survivors receive from me.  If we win, and set up ten thousand years of peace, that will only be achieved by accepting and loving one another, and throwing everyone's problems into the center of a round table, then solve them as our own....  all countries must do this, pool the resources of all and elevate all.   Simple to instigate once the people who have an invested interest in keeping the present system going try to stop it, then it becomes very complicated, for them, for us it will always remain simple.  Doing a job.

I am sure that the fighting in Tennessee is fierce tonight.  We are trying to stop them from getting over the mountains, which they are running foraging missions now, testing our defenses.  Their images from above are being distorted by  a physics prof from u of I who I politely listened to and did not understand shit about the apparatus.  We would be invisible to the satallites, which would see footage from the day before, or two days, whatever we programmed it in.  No one had put enough defenses in their satalites in preparation for an attack of up to date hackers, a real anonymous, not the CIA playground of getting people...  to do God knows what?   Regardless, without the hackers our jobs would have been impossible.   Now we are invisible in the watched world.  

God truly humbles me by providing this assistance, and they have poured in from across the globe, foreign fighters who had been wanting to fight the elite of the west their entire lives...  China was bringing in ships full of recruits from all over the world, going to the closest countries first... the Mexican boarder has been torn down, along with all the walls, and they have been invited back into their native lands, apologized to and given the spoils of war deserved, Texas and California, parts of Neveda.   They would repay us with all the military assistance we needed, They were taking in refugees from the LA nuking, and sending us soldiers, doctors, anything they could.   Their government was reacting on popular sentiment, which I helped spur by saying we were going to legalize drugs in Mexico, and give the cartels legal distribution rights, to buy them out without violence, general pardons.  A program that will actually work, despite the political bickering that would normally stop it, written into our mutual aide pact.

In my latest talks I asked China to bring up war crimes by the United States by China with the actions of ISIS.  They will be doing so next week, and what all the world knows, will finally be acknowledged and looked at by every country in public, where they will begin to show their sympathies.  Our people from various countries will be there, finding out who lives in the end, and who dies.   We will need much of the world for what we are going to do, though I WANT TO GRANT AS much autonomy as possible.  Russia has been at my side forever, though I have tested their nerves at ties.   I was assigned a Russian spy, the honey pot slaves they always used to control me...  she kept me alive in situations where I had no idea that she was killing people to save my ass...  they told me of desperate things she did when she thought I was going to lose in the war we were in at the time, going to other sides and saying she would help them, etc.... then I always seemed to make a come back, right when I was needed to do something only I could do, and rise again...  now she finally trusts I know enough to lead, though I was lead around by her in oh seven when they first started using me in operation bluebeam, which she knew all about, and expected to be the wife of Jesus.  She is incredibly moral.   I think she loves me.  It could still be part of her cover, because I am sure she hated me at times, and hated having been assigned me... oh, well.   By the virtue of all we went through together I fell in love with the one who was always by my side, always fighting with me, no matter what they said about me... telling me to just live my life.   She may have played me, but for all I know they would have killed her, or worse, if she failed.  She was worried about her fate enough to betray me with other groups when I was down.   I forgive her.   I am a forgiver.  This is what I do.  Forgive, then see if the person redeems themselves, or thinks words are enough....


I have had to forgive all the plants in my life.  I have had to forgive women who killed their entire families in some misguided religious fervor brought on by my presence of life.  The madness that drove people to actions I could not begin to associate with myself, had no idea I could stop with a few words.   I was told of women jumping off skyscrapers and remembering a stupid joke I made on the radio show about kill yourself and others, though not in that order... a stupid joke and women lept from skyscrapers.   I saw it announced on the news that this one woman broke into a building on Michigan avenue, broke into the fortieth floor -- I was often associated with a number of letters, and forty was one of them, as was nineteen eighty, the year I graduate, and seven, for luck...  I guess, and other reasons.   Regardless, I thought at the time,  I said this and wrote this, could this be.... then I was like No, things do not happen like that in real life.  Later, maddened by learning there was some mission you wanted me to do, some attack that you wanted, some way of proving myself, and on the morning sportscasts I would hear of all these weird accidents, people intentionally driving the wrong way on the highway.   Only later when I learned my comedy had been treated as scripture as well, and god I made up, Ralph, kept getting in car accidents, and I had in my life been in a few.    There was something about a train taking off.   I thought these people were on my side, and that I fought for the right side...  I had no idea there were all these different groups in power, and many were seriously considering me, which was a huge shock to a person who had felt the world was pretty much going to mostly ignore him his entire life.... at forty five dreams of fame had molted into making fun of the famous, and realizing  I had the freedom on line to write things the famous could not get away with.  I felt very marginalized, that no one knew who I was.  All an illusion.   I started writing about a comedy character gathering an army and those who knew of me, and my family associations -- mother the leader of the underground communist movements, what else could it be except gathering an army of atheists, pretty much, to fight the system... my character was a leftist serial killer.   They came to Chicago and surrounded me, expecting a man to start a war, then they were told that man was none other than this guy who grew wings, who the masons and catholics and the momons and Christians and Buddhists and world governments had been watching with great interest, thinking the deity was there to bring in world peace.   I was a sweet child, very Godly.   Without a cover yet developed I was perfectly in tune with God, always with him in my every action, and pleased that he was pleased with me, or pissed that I had done something that would hurt him, or think less of me.   I lost all that quick, though I kept a general attitude all my life that I wanted to be the moral hero in every situation possible, no matter what it cost me...  wanted nothing to do with crime and immorality, in my definition, though I had to learn my lesson like everyone, by being burned...  inside, in the part of yourself that has to live with yourself.   I realized long ago that accepting myself was the primary anchor I had into sanity.  I accepted that the truths I believed made my lifestyle moral.  They chose me because they saw similarities with Jesus.

There were others who worshipped me as a demi-god, and I believe my disbelief in Hell and the whole Satanic myth, in way, was started by those who were on the other side of my wrath in some supernatural battle, which I had won not through the supposedly fair fight they wanted, since they outnumbered us seven to one, but by flooding them.   My ability to call floods to wipe out armies and wretched cities that had fallen into nothing more than slavery pits that I would attack and free people from, may have led to the idea of Noah, though I tend to think this writer's parable is about caring for animals.   I do not think it was meant to be taken literally.   No one writes a book about adam and eve and says nothing about how they did not end up with a bunch of inbred's etc...  if they thought people would be stupid enough to take it as anything except a parable, as in another time it was known to be.  WE HAVE FORGOTTEN TO TAKE INTO ACCOUNT THE NORMS OF THE SOCIETIES from which the bibles came, and look at them less as scriptures that contain the exact words of God, but as the words of men sometimes inspired by God, sometimes forced to add a passage by a King, and nothing to take without editing out the salt Jesus spoke of.    I also wrote of getting rid of the salt, back in otwelve I guess... later, when the CIA murderer I wrote about earlier dropped his mask, he said, with the look of the true believer in wide, bloodshot eyes, "You have to get rid of the salt.  Don't tell them where the bones are."   I knew just what the fuck he was talking about and was stunned by the change that came over the take it all in stride, hippy, tough guy Irishman, who suddenly showed me a breadth of belief that led to murder.   I had never experienced such belief from another human being, having lived among the skeptical most of my life.    A  murderer preaching at me.  I knew nothing about bones, though later I was able to put together something  I thought was a joke, with this thought, and come to a stomach churning knowledge of how they fit together.   Realities I have to leave out of this book.   It will be in enemy hands, and in the hands of those  I gave a loyalty oath, and those who have reason to suspect me, and fear me, and they need reassurance and I save innocent lives by giving them, so it is the least I can do, a man whose words have been bullets in the past.   Present . . .  future.  

I am supposed to be sleeping.   My thoughts excite me too much.   I tell myself to think of something pleasant, and all that comes to mind is in a past now long dead, a city turned to rubble, and a countryside around the town I grew up destroyed by ISIS coming thru and meeting resistance, our last stand before they came up into the southside of Chicago, a target the racists behind the fighting wanted done quick and bloody, to free the world from the black underclass once and for all.   They expected an easy win, as they had found so far.   This was the first battle we took total command of, and of course we sent them running, long enough to secure the dunes and the surrounding five miles...  we pulled back on the last few days, brought all the of them within range of our surprises.    The napalm that would fly down onto their soldiers, cars, trucks...  missiles.  We could nuke them again, a small one, sent from one of our offcoasts subs.   I chose the napalm traps.  Most of the soldiers were on the northside of the city off duty, feeling like they were winning, not even thinking there was much fight left in the USA.   So far they had run into unprepared towns that were ordered to their deaths, and line up.... they felt they had no choice.  They had seen the reports about  ISIS and knew they would surrender in the end, because that was the only way to live.  Some would convert to Islam, be sold into slavery.   Some fought.  They turned out to have a better fate in the end.   Some made it to our resistance, we were there, ready with weapons, etc...  we could not afford to hold ground though, so we got out of the cities who we could first, the vital, and the loved... pets welcome.

The mountains of Tennessee and Kentucky, the entire Appalachian range was ready for them, had the high ground, plenty of arms.   ISIS was in for a surprise, to a degree.  We had hackers and inside people manipulating most military intel, even satellite photos were being sent out with our troops hidden.

The miraculous promise of my God, that I would go from alone to surrounded by those he would send me, the moral ones I needed, not those who first wanted me to be their king, their monarch, to display to the public and keep out of politics.   A photo op with God.


We have had to fight numerous battles to get from Iowa to Yellowstone, where the huge park had become a haven for refugees from the war.   They had contigents of Marines who had come to our side, artillery, anti aircraft battilions were in place, and more importantly, various nuclear silos were now under our control.  They could not afford to attack the area, and so far it was the only base where it was large enough I could blend in, get to the leadership and safely gather...  something I avoided as much as possible, preferring to keep the generals as far apart as possible, to keep the enemy from deciding to use the nuclear option, as I had done in Chicago to destroy their first contingency of leaders, and many of the elite themselves, as well as their so far victorious army, that was being used to scare the American public into FEMA camps, the entry path to going to their deaths.  The government had grown so grotesque they were grinding up the bodies of the dead, and feeding them back to those in the FEMA camps the night before they were shipped off, supposedly to save their food, though also I suspect because they want to acquaint ISIS with a possible food supply, as they ravaged across the USA.  

The Ghosts had given me the means to stop them, thirty some years ago now...  they were haunted by knowing all this was coming, and heartbroken over what they knew was coming for me, whom they considered the Christ.   I know that only now.  Then I just knew they were seriously, and that if called to save my country, or fight this great evil, there was no saying NO.   We all dream of having reasons to live, and I always thought mine was just to write, before the Ghosts put a gun in my hand and made me shoot four of them in the face.   Watch their torn and grotesque faces falling back into the dark water, sinking beneath the surface of white froth and human waste...  I became a nuclear power that day.   I have not written much about the surgery on my hand and will not.  The less my enemies know about this technology the better.   I did not have a nerve crackling when I set off the bombs.  We watch the official news, filled with peoples whose entire lives, relatives, friends... turned to dust.  Their tears effect me, their torn lives effect me...   I am on a lot of pills.  Pain pills for the back, energy pills, sleep pills, anti anxiety pills.  I do not take so many I am drunk all the time but I recognize the weight on my shoulders, and I will use any chemical I have to for continued functioning.

The stresses I have been put through would have killed a Human.  They started calling me superman because I saved the government, which I did for my own reasons, not wanting to add to the race I was trying to stop was at the top of the list.   I was telling the president that I could say any damn thing I wanted in my living room when I was being illegally taped, as I was, by various groups in the underground.  I set up no defense against them, they wanted to hear a revolutionary speak, they would get one, defiant and screaming and as terrifying as  I could make myself, a threat to any and all who would harm me.  A violent seeming creature, who was of course....   more violent than I would have understood.  A song, one of too many written about me when they wanted to use me in operation bluebeam and of course used rock n roll and other music as well, sang that she could not believe all the blood behind my blue eyes.

Neither could I.   Johnny Pain was my stage name, because of all the back surgeries after they took out the wings and messed up my spinal column, during a year in the hospital at five, where  I have few memories of...   meaning they were more than likely already working hypnotically on my mind, something they continued doing my entire life, without letting me know, until very late in the game, when I forced them to tell me the truth about myself.  They wanted my origin story to be a miraculous story the religious could relate to easily, find proof of in their bibles.  When I found out I would be other... well, allies let me know this was happening, and once told it made perfect sense, how I learned of things from my dreams and fantasies what was going to be the future, where in many ways I created it inadvertently, with a Magic controlled by God, and done his ways, ways which often involved a lot of Pain for me, but that was why  I am, to take on the worst pain of the humans, to heal, to hold their hands as they progressed thru the cycle of life that produced souls...




Three trucks block the road, a government roadblock and a camp behind.
  Isis was in tents climbing up into the hills behind the vehicles that were blocking the road.  The sight was peaceful, the tents glow of yellow browns and beige, the fires dancing in the hills...  a lot of tents were various colors, red, blue, yellow....  with lights inside them they glow in the night, remind me of Christmas lights...  I walked up to the road block, three trucks blocking our path.   The four guards were at alert, asking us for our identification if we were regular army, etc...   I used my eyes to kill three of the soldiers, cutting them clean in half at the waist,  watching them tumble down and their intestines spread around them...  the display works its spell, and the fourth guard goes along with us....gave us the keys to the trucks, and we moved them out of the way, then I killed with a precise, painless blast into his forehead.

I motioned for the men to back off and take cover behind the trucks, then began to walk across a hundred feet of bare grass, leading up to the chow tent, and then behind them the tents, the lives being lived.   They have women they have forced into sexual slavery with them.   I am in no position to save them from anything except this life itself, write them of as I begin to scan the camp, and a red line began weaving over the tents, starting fires, setting off screams and men with guns coming out and trying to take up positions, when I had to merely look their way and they fell dead.  I could see their heat if they were not visible in the green glow of the night vision, and the eyes did the rest.  The automatic kill setting took out anything close or aiming first, scanned the entire area of battle and even could control the muscles in my face enough to turn my head, or start to and I responded automatically as well, going along with the killing machine inn my eyes.   I could see them trying to escape into the woods, fired thru the trees, the boulders, the armored vests...   no one left alive.  We would not be located.   I regretted the women, as did my men as we searched he camp for intelligence.  They were very young.   The maddening slavery the elite had enticed their godless soldiers with ENRAGED ME.  I wanted them all dead, everyone who ever took a girl of twelve and made her a sex slave.  None of them were close to of age.  We found three older women in the feeding tent.  All dead, by precise strikes to the forehead, in almost exactly the same spot every time.

They took footage of the shooting, uploaded them.... I am sure they were playing great to our soldiers and those who looked to me for Holy Guidance.  I did not feel like I was deceiving them, when they said blood flew from my eyes.   I had heard speculation I was using lasers though that died down quick at the insane ID of anyone inventing such eyes, let alone me.   This was why my soldiers had insisted of murdering everyone who knew about the eye technology itself, not just those who doctored and nursed me.   We knew the only way to keep what we had done secret would require a means for our ends.  Or they knew.  I had to trust their military knowledge, what they knew about how to fight the shadow war.   I did not pretend that I am all knowing or any of that shit.  I listened to people on the small decisions, it was on the larger ones that I acted on what God would wish without consulting a soul, such as with LA and Chicago.

We spend a week in Yellowstone, before the arrangements are in place to get me into Colorado, something the Elite were going to try to stop at all costs.  Everything I needed was there, the area set up to be my headquarters long before I knew I would ever need one, by the operation bluebeam crew, who had given up on that idea, realizing this brainwashed boy who went awry had used their blunder to build an army stronger than theirs.   In Yellowstone we slept in tents, mourned, everyone was drinking and getting high, there were free drugs of all types for everyone, hospitals sacked.  They all had heard my sermons and how I used pills during rough times, in moderation, rather than drinking.   I told the emotional hell of this revolution would become a waking nightmare, and all they had to do was survive.  Addiction we would worry about later.

I needed them able to fight, like football players shot up by managers to get back out under the tv lights, give the a show...   ignoring the physical pain, gone by the magical shot.   I figured the same way, though the pain was emotional.  If I expected average people to get thru this extraordinary experience without extraordinary means.  I have had people bitch at me about this, that I would create a bunch of drug users... no, that was done already.   I am just a revolutionary leader who has seen the pain this causes people since man first walked upright, and this life they have invented pills to dull this horror, and I feel like it would be cruel not allow soldiers to use them, not to mention I am not hypocritical and way too honest for my position.   I have had to use the pills since learning about all the deaths, since ordering deaths.  I do not know how many died in the early years when the CIA was using me as a puppet, just that the favor I did for them bought me a license to kill that I did not know about, and I wrote blindly in my blog, violent criticism in a psycho character I had developed to comment on all the violence in the world, and how we become inured to it.  I knew of enough that my dim life was suddenly filled with a lot more ghosts.  I did not want to allow my thoughts to go there, had to compartmentalize them away for later, when they came in handy when I needed a reason to keep fighting and all  I had to do was think of their unmarked graves, hear their voices crying out for change, and swearing to them that I will not allow their deaths to be in vain.

We climb into covered pick up trucks, and take off in different directions, so as not to draw attention, planning to all meet up at the ranch in the mountains that would be my base, complete with a maze of underground tunnels that had been taken from the government, by force, and ran all the way to the new airport, the one filled with paintings of the apocalypse...

We have no more incidents on the road.   We make it to the farm in the middle of the night -- I have lost track of things like days and time and sleep patterns...  day or night, I wake up somewhere strange and immediately take a hand full of pills to stop the emotions that gather in me and I fight through for forty five minutes or so until the coffee, smokes, and pills are finally hitting me enough that I am the me I need again.   I once went thru therapy, worked out for twenty years without doing drugs, never needed them.  Had no voices clamoring at me, millions of dying lepers asking me to cure them, trying to get my attention, reaching out their smothering arms, grabbing me everywhere, tearing me apart.   I was very afraid of being eaten when I first woke up to being Jesus and all the past lives were flowing thru my mind uncontrolled...   many times in the past my flesh had been eaten to try to get some of my magic, and your churches still drink of my blood and eat of my flesh to this day...  it was not that illogical, though I cannot imagine how this looked to the people who were filming me.   I was talking to them.   I existed, The Christ, and this threw everything I had believed into question.  This was a light switch going on and my eyes adjusting the brightness.... not a slow, somber awakening.   This was meeting the Devil the first weeks out of my cover life.

I make excuses for the dead, for myself.


I become addicted to the news.  A gorgeous blonde is on at them moment, new to the field more than likely since we targeted and scared off the agents of operation mockingbird who had sold out long before, and deserved the fate my soldiers exacted on the ones we caught, though most had the money to flee, like we wanted them to.  Leave us the continent was my cry to all of them now... or die.  Their armies were beginning to desert.  They saw the film footage too of the Holy Man/The Christ/The Alien/the....   I was thought to be all kinds of things, though I demanded I be Scott, just one among many on earth...  My knowledge of who I am is obvious to any who know me, I cannot deny this.  I just do not want a big deal made out of, or to be worshipped, which is like having a false icon before GOD.   I am not God.   I am the representative of God, His Son, he has called me and I could not take more pride in anything on this world, or more sadness.    I know that He expects more of me than I feel I can give, though know I can intellectually... know  I always have, always will.

The Newscaster tells a terrified US population, '"Government forces are within days of striking the death blow to ISIS that they have been promising.  Sources in the government are saying it is all over except cleaning up operation in certain locations around the country.  Certainly things have gone back to Normal here in Washington, D.C., where they never changed in the first place."

Here lies are believed by no one at this point. People were in a panic, attempting to leave cities.  China was broadcasting the truth now as well, on what they are Calling The Truth channel, and though there was some propaganda on there for sure, they basically only had to report the truth.  We were winning everywhere, and beginning to amass troops along their line protecting the east coast.

I HAVE SPILLED MORE BLOOD IN LOS ANGELES THAN ANY MAN HAS EVER ACHIEVED.... Hiroshima because a city lucky they were hit by the old technology.

They look at me differently in the camp now.  I am a reaper to them.  A mass murderer on a level they had never even seen a movie villain pull off...  a disregard for land, gold, lives...  I nuked Los Angeles, wiped out Hollywood... blew open a nuclear power plant to drive the civilians into Chaos.  The first salvo in this war had to be an alarm clock that woke the enemy and OUR ALLIES to the war raging.  Gave pride to some, who were ready to fight, drove the enemy to set up camp in Chicago, gathered as I hoped they would, for the slaughter.   Tonight is their last night.

Now the entire country knew what ISIS was from our broadcasts, and increasingly the government had just started attacking directly without their usual costumes. The war was bare naked now.   At least the people were no longer being led into FEMA CAMPS and then disappearing, supposedly sent to safer areas, told in every camp they were being taken in for evaluation.... a sham, that kept the prey walking to them, without bloodshed.   Our broadcasts, and the soldiers we had sent out to recruit around the countries, had blown the camps to twisted metal and bodies no one bothered going in to gather in body bags.   We were beyond burying the dead now.  LA left their dead and wounded, to get out of the radiation zone that would have killed them overnight.  The government was not prepared, were bunched around a radical in CHICAGO, who was stirring up trouble.  

The old sleight of hand, look over here while  I do this.   I also have most of the enemy army around me, and their leaders.  They did not believe I would use my nuclear power.  I had not in eight years.  Now I was getting ready for phase two, taking out Chicago.  I had told my soldiers they were saving their relatives from  ISIS and this would have been true, though the real-er truth was that I planned on turning the city to Rubble, which was why we were south of the city in the Dunes, out of the kill scene.   No one in the camp knows.  I walk around being mysterious and inspiring, saying little to the soldiers at their campfire, unless they ask a question.

They are treating me with more respect or fear, not sure which,  after I nuked LA and assured them New York, unless they rebuked their politicians and chose sanity, will share the same fate.  I have in a palm a device that I need to manipulate to turn Chicago to dust.    I walk off by myself in the woods, and manipulate the buttons under my palm in the dreaded code..   The blast wave hits us and people are tossed off their feet, tents pulled out of the ground and sent into the trees, fires sending sparks and hot coals off into the night...  over before it starts, explosions soon become audible in Chicago, and the gathering orange and gray mushroom cloud over the city makes clear what has just happened.  

The people in the camp were from the city.  The museums, the whales, the parks, their houses and neighbors and...   I cannot imagine what they are going thru.  There is nothing for me to say.


I gather my soldiers and we leave the camp, five heavily armed with sixty pound packs, ready to fight our way through any chaos to get to the helicopter, where we fly south west to another base.   I leave feeling like I am running away from what I have just done, and if this was not the plan it would be what I would want to happen, regardless.....   Pictures of Hiroshima and Los Angeles fill my mind, then the thought that Chicago is really gone leaves me in tears, hidden behind my hood, I act as if I am asleep as I cry.  Other soldiers are more open in their grieving, and one man begins hyperventilating.  I hand out green meanies, valium...  calm them all down.  Add in a few morphine to help them thru this.   I encourage some drug use among the soldiers, and the civilians, I would sure as hell rather use chemicals to our advantage, then spend time we do not have mourning.  What I have done in the last few days will change the course of history, perhaps... stop the planned genocide, when they realize how serious I am about making their victory pyrrhic.  They have gone from having no resistance to people all over the world hunting them.  If not for their private armies, they would have lost by now.  Some of them were mutinying as well.

COMPILED CHAPTERS OF THE BOOK SO FAR... everything so far in one reading.

EVERYTHING PRECEEDING this compiled group, led up to this, and the coming chapters.    Here I think I have four chapters, that will be broken up during the editing process.   I have a lot of work to do on this prose, and will be going back thru it over and over as I write the next three chapters.   By then it should be done, then I will edit those new chapters, as  I write new ones... that is the plan, until Spring when I want to publish the book.  This is the first in a series so I do not have to worry about having to tie up each loose end, in fact  I have to leave a few dangling into the new books....

I thank you for putting up with seeing me naked, which at my age is not the pleasure it once was when I was a buff young me.   Regardless, enjoy the terror, and know I skate just this side of a lot of classified intelligence in this book, but there are fictional parts.  Obviously.


The citizens of Chicago are being taken to  safety zones throughout the city.   The orderly northside at least.  The south side had broken down into chaos, when the gangs fought to keep the so called ISIS from taking over their property, and selling their women into slavery.   The attack had come up from Indiana and was stopped just south of the city, around the area of 37th street.  Keeping the fighting away from the wealthy, the white...  the elite.   They planned on waiting out the slaughter in their high rises, surrounded by the best security money could buy.

The government radio and tv announced the same message in a thousand ways all day and night, YOU ARE UNDER THREAT... ONLY THE GOVERNMENT CAN SAVE YOU....  they had people convinced ISIS was other than a mercenary army hired by the elite, bloodied in the middle east and now taking over the USA for a select few, and doing away with the worthless feeders... keeping those who would hold society in place for their profit and pleasure, doing away the rest.

FEAR, FEAR, FEAR...   run to us, let us take care of you.    And the citizen's have responded with relief.  I am in the large parking lot surrounding the southeast side of Soldier's Field, in a fenced in waiting area, in a crowd of hundreds, being herded slowly into the processes center at the FEMA CAMP.  My enemies have no idea I am on the continent, let alone in the middle of their attempt to use their proxy army to scare the citizens into FEMA CAMPS.  I am the leader of the select few who know who Isis actually is, and are arming and activating soldiers, living cover lives, all over the states....  My position is no secret to the enemy.  I had held Chicago hostage with Nuclear Bombs for eight years, the upstart who would not go along, and made himself a nuclear power, one who had to be taken seriously.   SOON they would learn when I said they could not drive me from my city was no idle statement, no psy op lie in a sea of them I had to tell when they were bugging me, to confuse them, to keep them from understanding the mission, knowing they would not be helping me if they knew in the belly of their beast, where I worked until  I discovered what they were doing, was taking his soldiers and turning on them.

My comrades had given me the perfect position from which to address the world, and be heard.  Some of my soldiers exposed themselves in open battle, and walked away each time covered in enemy blood.  We also had lost enough people over the years to know that the only way to honor them properly is to continue fighting for the cause even if it costs you your life... you tell their ghosts this general's life is not more important than anyone elses on this planet.  

Others would say differently, worried about my security incessantly.  Everyone except me, the God of Many  Masks.   I have been reincarnating here since long before there were humans, waiting for the eventual destruction of the planet, the release of the flood of souls...   I would be there to great them. send them on the their journey, say goodbye to humans I have loved for hundreds of thousands of years, others longer.   Once I was Jesus.  Too many know this, and expect me to be Jesus in this life.  I am not, I am Scott, the creature needed for this time, who was kept ignorant of his deity status until God decided to wake him up, start the mission he had been preparing for his whole life, without ever even knowing His heavenly father was leading his every step.   Looking back, I see he perfectly prepared me to run this revolution, or be it's poet laureate, minister... however people looked at me, and enemy and ally the opinions were all over the place.  I must lead the scientific and the spiritual, and prove them both that I am prepared to use either means to win this war, and prefer science.   I have powers too overwhelming to want to use on earth, powers that destroy entire planets, leave a few dust in space... not even a pebble is left.   My anger alone can do this.  I try to stay as mellow as possible after causing floods by getting too pissed off.
 

The entire world is wondering what my next move will be/   Or at least the powerful ones, those involved enough the shadow war to be allowed to hear what I am doing... the heads of governments and churches and underground groups, the trillionaires behind the scenes...   they have never had to fight the supernatural before, which they know better than anyone is about Heaven and Hell, and they  were damned afraid of the nukes we set up around Nuclear Power plants and had thus far, left us alone.  Soon I am going to have to prove to them I am not content with appeasement, or wait around for them to act.   I am going to have to take cities from them, when the time is right, to my advantage....



Now I am winning and they know this, people are on my side and do not know it yet -- and my enemy does.     Those I can save from slavery I will, though my allegiance is the soldiers I lead. . .   we cannot lose. Our enemy will try to genocide seven billion people, as they were planning when they brought me into their fold, to tell the world that one who they had proof started to grow wings in childhood was about to lead the world... as their puppet.   I have powers.  Easy enough for me to subvert them, after an initial period of being stunned by all the lies I had been brought up in this time, during the period before the Christ as you would think, came to the surface, my conscious... The  Christ studied the times, went to university for almost fourteen years, thinking he wanted to be an educated writer, though God was using his goal for his own purpose. 

Chicago, the city where I operated openly for years,  then went into hiding and convinced the world to go on wild goose chases around the globe, which they did... wasting time and we sent out agents to recruit around the country, and from our government files, take out the traitors and infilitrators in their midst.   We were not surprised to find the Milita's filled with FBI informents, and CIA agents...   after cleansing, we brought them up to speed on who the real attackers were.  Everyone in the underground we approached had dreamed of an organization like ours, so recruiting was easy across the boards.  The Elite wants to genocide you, so fight or die trying to live.  Put that on our recruiting poster.



They are not sure what to do... they keep thinking they have won and then  I reappear.  They mistake every battle they win for the war.   I would laugh at them a thousand kills ago....   laughing now is merely something one of my cover personalities does.  Like tears, I lost them long ago.... my soul is covered in blood, and the real killing has yet to begin....  not that my enemies or allies know was much..

They recognized me young in this life, when I began to grow wings at the age of five... a wonder the Catholic church and the Masons and heads of governments all wanted to know about -- alien of Angel.   The miraculous followed me around all my life, became nothing, all the instances I had that killed every other human who had went thru it.   I could not die, and I tried for awhile to do so... took a dose that should have killed me six times over and awoke to a doctor a few days later in my face asking me, "Do you believe in God?   There is no reason you are alive.  Except God.   You should be dead."   They treat suicide attempts like shit, not like the emotionally damaged people they are -- they are in intensive care trying to stop people from dying, and in walks someone saying DEATH IS COOL.  


We have been at war since 2007 when they grabbed me out of my life of writing comedy and smoking weed, told me I was the messiah and had to wake up.   God using man.   To create a Christ they attempted, and my Ironic Father made the person they were going to use as their puppet, the REAL THING.   They could not use me, I turned against them, China came in to help me, and in the spy world I became a guy who may have got a lot of people killed, though I tried to save the innocent and stop the war and the crimes against humanity that inevitably followed, who NOW HAS AN INSURANCE policy the elite cannot cash.  They never expected an enemy to come to them, announce their presence, and demand surrender or annihilation.   None of the nuclear powers had done this to another.  Took a revolutionary with the memories of battles back to before he was even close to a human, evolving along with the earth, incarnating into anything I wanted.   I go to these places certain days, spend what seems like no kind of break in whatever I am doing, surrounded by a time when the world was all forest, and trees were my friends, good friends, who  I could talk to in their slow as sap moving language.

Like memories of youth, some of my lives -- others of horrors.  Why do I win impossible battles?  Because I have been in the situation enough times thru my lives to have evaded whatever tactic they are trying...   still, I could lose.  God's will be done, not mine.  He knows better,  I trust him, know that all man's knowledge is foolishness to God, as Corinthian says...






The first day at the FEMA camp is filled with some form or line or report about conditions, there is not a second left for the people to think, let alone question anything they are being told.

I am using the cover personality of a deaf mute, give a hand sign pointing to my ear and mouth and shaking my head no to any questions, then gesturing to my lips and theirs, conveying the universal symbol that I could read lips. My cover had no facebook account, an anonymous, night stocker from at a supermarket who had never voted, married... I chose well before I committed myself to his murder.   I may have the blood of thousands on my hands, and millions coming, that does not mean I like to kill, or make the decision lightly.  A made up person was not going to work, someone who showed up using the same name would kill my cover.  My voice is known from my sermons, interneted across the world, and driving a drum, in the hearts of warriors in nation after nation....   I became too dangerous, too powerful, a force the families and money had no way to fight.  A terrorist with nukes set up around  nuclear power plants around the country.  I am in this war to win.   I know their plans and I will stop them, even if that means making their take over of the united states a pyric victory.


The people who are done being interrogated, were out in a large area of the parking lot they had set the temporary camp up in, beside Soldier Field, on the beach of Lake Michigan.   From this one I can get out of the city by boat.    They have lived the past few days hearing of ISIS destroying Indiana on their way toward us.     We had fallen back to Chicago, where we were going to meet, then spread out to the west, and a start a defense roughly down the Mississippi river.   I did not think we would have to give up that much territory, believed strongly that the American public was on our side and merely did know so yet.  God is love and cornered humans, trying to protect all they love, are easily recruited by a helping hand, a good meal, and great guns.    The entrenched underground, the revolutionary professionals hidden all across the usa, hundreds and hundreds of thousands living cover lives, to hide their affiliation with the death and destruction of the Shadow War -- stone cold killers people knew as a drunk, a nice school teacher, etc...  were active now, fighting the war they had wanted to believe would never come, and thanking  God they had prepared.   I already knew we would win.  God does not randomnly throw me into a life.   This one will seem particularly important to humans, though no different than the countless wars and slave revolts  I have led, without using supernatural powers, merely a memory that provides me with the right answer, and a God who makes my mistakes the right thing to do...  even when I only found out later.

The media had always been on ISIS mode, since the supposed fighting on USA soil was instigated by immigrants and undocumented workers, who had in truth been the first to be murdered by the great machine which was consuming the earth, with parts that did not know their function better than any bolt in any machine. Those who had been conspiracy theorists, or as they called them now, Oppositional Personality Disordered, per the psychiatric norms that had begun in 2012, were called possible sympathizers to the enemy and rounded up, would not be seen again.

I walked past the different groups, listening to how they rationalized this latest affront to humanity into something that made sense in the big lie they had been raised within. To the man, they all seemed to think they would be alright. Again, that part of me that once laughed came to mind. The one group had never used facebook, or any social media, and assumed that facebook was the government's only source of intelligence on their lives. Another group had merely sent jokes to their friends, though admitted commenting on their favorite politicians, and discounting others.

We were kept in a fenced in pen until our names were called, then sent to sit opposite what the announcer kept calling our 'Government Host.'   I made sure the man knew I was deaf and wrote my name down so he would watch for it, and he waved me over and sent me into a Quonset hut, where I was given a number of a desk, and sent down the fight aisle.   The tables were very long, with the induction personnel pushed together at their makes shift desks.  

I sat down and made my sign that I was deaf. The man sitting across from me looked nervous, depressed,  had certain darkness under his eyes spoke to his lack of sleep. I noted a slight trembling in his hands when he reached for a glass of cloudy water by his side. Balding, mid-fifties, hot in his brown suit. The first words he spoke to me made me sit up straight and struggle to keep my face impassive, 'Don't bother, we know you can hear." I did not know if he was bluffing or not, so I tilted my head to one side and looked at him quizzically? "You did right by being afraid to talk to anyone. I have your file here. You do not seem like the type to know enough to take such a tact. I understand, though... you were afraid." He sounds sympathetic, friendly.

 I begin to wonder if he was a police officer before... then the memory reminds me the police had rebelled early on, found to be part of ISIS, was what the media was saying;   new cops were coming in and the rights and property of the old cops was about to become theirs, they found out too late, after they could not gather enough force,  and were said to be in hiding. If he was a police officer, I would never find out... and would never turn him in, regardless, unless my survival depended on the matter. I was intent of surviving.


My mission was the only thing to live for in these times, and I had orders not to die... or I would have gone out fighting long before letting them bring me to a camp. I had no desire to see what was to come. No desires at all, really... well, that is not true... I still had a desire for love making, still had a desire to snort lines of fine white blow, hitting on a crack pipe with good friends and feel fine as hell, as I had done a few times in life, when nothing else was going to break the malaise of the deaths all around me;   only a nod held no nightmares sleeping or waking, still had a desire to be with family I had lost, my pets...the wife I had to send to Russia, a spy they set me up with, in the life I thought was all free and wild, which was actually watched by various groups my entire life, as a holy man who would one day wake up a Christ, and the end times seemed imminent, if not by the supernatural than the death of the earth at the hands of humyn environmental rape.
  I have to compartmentalize the pain away to function at all, and I am thankful as always for the years spent meditating, learning to clear my mind of thoughts, find an empty awareness of God and universe.   More training I did not know was for the mission until the mission began... as now, when all my experiences began to come together...

There is too much noise in the room for everyone to be monitored, I think... I am never sure. Perhaps they could hear everything now? See everything now? The cities had become like that, long before any of us realized. Even after I had been told I had a hard time believing. Now I was erring always on the side of caution, and this had kept me alive.

Three seats down a man who is being interrogated, in the nicest, most bureaucratic -- just getting my license renewed way possible, suddenly kicks his chair back behind him and starts screaming that he had just been venting on Facebook, that he did not always feel that way... I took the opportunity to lean in close to my interrogator, whose attention was on the freak out a few chairs away, and throw my voice without moving my lips -- a skill taught to everyone in the underground, I assumed... we were too compartmentalized to know, of course. . . but it had come in handy too many times for me to think otherwise. "I can speak, and I know you used to be a cop. I remember you.  Put me in the dorm closest the lake, brother blue.  I keep silent for a reason, and I think you want me to continue so, eh?"

He seems to keep his interest on the man who is now being approached by the black dressed security guards with their ever present stun guns. Throws his voice back at me without moving his lips, something they evidently had learned as well when their purge had come -- as was reported at the time as taking great losses while they valiantly fought the ISIS invaders in the city, who were reported as having grouped with the gangs... "Deaf and dumb." When the commotion was over, I began to realize the risk I had taken and fought to control myself... my fingers wanted to start tapping on my thigh. I could give away nothing. Nothing... I used the word to calm myself, repeating it over and over in my mind, 'Nothing... nothing... nothing.' He might now assign me to a camp to keep me silent. Then I realized he would know if he did this that I would report him, and began to calm, as much as I allowed myself. "Well, just thought I would check, to make sure. You had no involvement on computers. I see that you got your GED. Worked at the same company for almost twenty years, helping with the stocking of shelves at night. I did not know they hired the handicapped. Good thing, that."

I made a show of looking at his lips and occasionally making expressions of slight puzzlement then seeming understanding. At this I nodded, 'Yes.' "Says here you are physically healthy, is that still true?" I held my arms up like a muscle man and flexed my bi-ceps, showing I was strong and healthy, I hoped. One truth afloat on the river of lies that flowed from me. "I have a lot of questions, you can just nod yes or no to them, understand?" He emphasized 'Understand.' I nodded, 'Yes.' The questions were telling, and that he allowed me to merely nod yes or no when I heard the others down the line giving lengthy explanations told me he was allowing me thru the process. I wondered how anyone could trust anyone now... and marveled that this stranger and I had agreed to trust one another, even if out of mutual survival. He had no choice, but I could tell as the questions went on that his trust of my ability to keep my emotions in check, to play along to the exact right clues, was causing him to trust me.

The interviewers' whom I could hear ending their interrogations around me all said that there was a place for them, and there was nothing to worry about, all the bad seeds had already been identified, and ISIS was not operating in the area. I could tell by their lack of inflections at the end, or how hard they faked inflections, that they had this memorized. I expected to hear the same and was surprised when the now visibly calmer man across from me said the same spiel, though he added in the middle, as if stuttering for a moment, Farmer... I did not react and he seemed to grow even calmer. Perhaps he felt that I was a police officer as well... that he had somehow connected with someone and would be able to sleep better that night, saving a fellow blue? I was not sure.   I later found out that those who volunteered to work on farms, which provided much needed food for the army, were trucked out that night, while the others would be sent to their deaths the next day, dropped out in the middle of the lake in huge plastic containers made for the long planned genocide to provide a biodegradable way of getting rid of human waste, and evidence of their work.

I had worked with the Blues as allies, they had even provided me with security for a few years, before the overt war they called a battle with ISIS began. My enemies had soured the relationship with propaganda, their specialty since the days when the FBI used the technique to sow distrust among the Black Panthers in the sixties.   I was a big deal in the shadow war when they brought me in, the New Christ became my name, and so many believed that their belief buoyed my own, though I still needed proof, which God eventually provided.  My powers of those of a God who does not war, he slaughters, and I avoid them... fearing a vision I had once of endless lightening and fire flowing from my body, the waves of white lightening flowing from my chest filled the skies of the entire world, while the lava and fire flowing from my back scorched all the earth.    I have only had three visions, and one came true, and the other seeing God's face was a reassurance that yes, I was doing His work and He was there for me.   People in intelligence began to be amazed by how long I lived, how so many wanted me to die, and then something would come up, stop them -- often armed guards.

I know everyone goes to Heaven.  God gave me this knowledge to make me the most dangerous creature in all creation.  The humans had figured this out long ago, at least the ones in power.  They had spent a lot of time and money protecting me when they thought I would go along with their fond dreams of fulfilling the prophecy and bringing the Son back to earth.  They did not know I have been here all along, living lives under different guises, guiding the prophecy that would lead to this time, when I would save the world, or destroy  the planet.  There is no in between.  All God has shown me so far is the destruction.



YEARS BEFORE COMES TO MIND.... I STEP OUT OF THE TIMELINE I AM in and visit there for a moment.


Another day, laying in my  apartment,   after I was known as a threat, and had a huge, deadly following, who were listening to me and watching me thru cameras and bugs on, knowing by then that they were all watching, believers in the New Christ,  and haters of me....  for the things my followers had done, under the guise of commands from me... that never were.  I was trying then to be kind, to give them something that would bring hope back into the world...  make up for things there was simply no making up for.  I let my mind wander, seeing souls around the planet... always they were golden and white sparks...  faceless and far away from me.  

This afternoon behind my closed eyes a woman approached, a spirit, then animals -- I had never seen them before, did not even know if animals went to heaven or not...  the woman and the animals seemed to be imploring me not to destroy the planet...  the woman told me she was Eve, the first creature I had imbued with the Holy Ghost.   I had incarnated as all types of animals, though I had never procreated, had been filled with disgust, anxiety, the signs God the Father sent me that told me I was not to do something.   After eons of this, I was sitting under a tree feeling lonely, angry, pitying myself in a way that I do sometimes, regretting being the first to question God....  despite his laughter and loving me most of all for trying to save a planet I had been sent to destroy....  the Gift he gave me, my journey from planet to planet trying to steer them away from the early destruction that took so many...  I was already becoming the son of the animals, in a way...   I stood up and reached inside myself, tore out what they call the proverbial rib, threw it to the ground and created her.

She was black as night.   A creature closest to me, by design of God I know, from the species that would become the Great Destroyer...  an early ancestor of the chim/ape/man.   She knew the same loneliness and longing I felt, came into my arms...  we were never able to procreate.  Like her kind in that time she went off with others and had offspring, which we raised as our own.  They were different...  the Holy Spirit imbued into her filled them with the same Golden Light I had seen.  This light I mistook for their soul until that afternoon.   She showed me life after life we had lived together, growing up together, falling in love, having children...  our Children would eventually rise into the echelon's of leaders, prophets, saints...  most.  Some became what you would consider Luciferian, as if the humanity and the holy spirit struggled.   Later I would learn more of this.

She told me that she had incarnated this time into the earth itself, and this was why I had sought her in woman after woman, as I had done before.  I was free to love without her...  though not free to love as we had.  The Holy Spirit is universal now, she told me...  she said, in a melodic voice that was music, not word, from a vision of green with yellow outlines of animals and Eve..."I did not want to tell you what I had done, until you made the decision not to destroy the earth."   She was speaking of nuclear war, which I was close to ordering.  We had already used them, to seal the DUMB at the White House when we took the president and the UN hostage.  I talked about the vision as it came, knowing the cameras were listening to me, and hoping to stop them from the hellish thought of the world ending... 

This was what terrified them most about me, I thought.  Movies and tv shows were coming out about how the world was ending, and instead of the jubilee this should have started, people were terrified.  Hollywood has made the apocalypse the work of evil.   Almost every movie is about somehow stopping it on the edge...  Buffy The Vampire, one of my favorite shows for a time, before one of the actresses on it turned on me, after doing atrocities in my name, and believing the bullshit that Ferrel was made to spread...  and thinking I wanted people to live like me, walk my path.   They were supposed to live like Jesus, not me...  I am a writer who is in chronic pain who does nothing, follows a mission to kill everything I have ever loved.  Why would anyone want to live like me...

I hoped the vision was true.   James, a spy sent to be my friend -- he showed up right around the time a movie came out with Steve Carrol, titled A FRIEND FOR THE END OF THE WORLD.   His show the office had shown me a few things, nothing I can repeat to keep a few of my friends in this world hidden as long as possible, who were acting on something I said in ways I would not have done. ..  sorry, this story is too close to certain top secret matters that I have to at times say, there is more truth here than you understand. 

James came stumbling into my apartment as the vision ended, mumbling about THE VISION, THE VISION...  I think he expected me talk about it, but I was so used to having two different lives, one with the spies and others communicating in their secret languages on tv, the bugs... and no one in my life, except Mary Ann, who also saw the tv changing to say things we had, showing things we did.  I had no idea she was as heavily involved as she was, always wondered why she did not react with the same horror as me... and the night I confronted her on this she put on an act later like she was freaking out.  There was nothing I could do.... for awhie I thought about leaving her...  but there was no where to go, and I do not love lightly.   

I ASKED James what he meant by the visions, and he seemed to sober up instantly, said he had been doing mushrroms all nght.  Another day, when I had been messaging back and forth with a very open sexually native american girl. and he told me, DON'T LEAD THE WORLD INTO SLUTDOM...  he knew they were watching me, though we both pretended he didn't.  James knew how to live a cover life, had come from a family involved openly in the shadow war.  I instead was kept in the dark, and surprised as hell by what came down.  Even with the warning of the Ghosts...  who I hated for awhile when it first started for not telling me more, but like I wrote, then I would have tried to run form this fate.

Those days seemed another life.  Now there was open fighting across the country..  My peoople were all over, so were theirs.   I had ordered them, on good advice, to not hold any ground.  They didn't listen to me at first.   Gathered on the east coast trying to arrange a conventional army with all the vet's who flocked to our side when they were told that the country was going fascist, and they were going to be slaves in a feudal system of sorts... or genocided.   The result was what I feared,  three mushroom clouds taking out Boston.   After that the war was all about finding the heads of the snakes and cutting them off.  We had tremendous God like luck getting those they had abused all their lives, their servants, to kill their slave masters when we showed them the list of those who loved.  The elite had not bothered with a list of those who died -- what was the point, there would be 7 billion corpses.  They would live underground for a few years, while nature took it's course, and the smell of rotting flesh turned to dust to dust.

I think about the memory of Eve as two soldiers come into the barracks, escorting the national guardsman, telling him to get his things, that he was being transferred..  They were always careful in front of the sheep.  Did not want to panic them before the gassing..  The more normal things seemed, the more they would contact their families, welcome them, have them join the lines coming into the camp, rather than taking up guns and joining the fight against ISIS... which they still had the sheep convinced were foreign invaders.  My group had the backing of China and they tried to call us communist/socialists...  we were a mix of everything, waiting for the day we could start voting again, and people could be whatever the wished....   I told them a mix of small businesses, socialized banks and utilities, no monopolies...  In my world people could choose, their free will intact.   I was about the only leader left who spoke of free well.   They scoffed at us on Radio Free American, the last station broadcasting, saying they were protecting free will.   Typical ass backwards world.

My job was to lay low and determine how the camps were being run.  I figured two days and I would have enough intel, then we were going take over,  show the sheep and the guards and the soldiers the films we had of what was going to happen to them, what was happening all across the country, offer them guns or sanctuary...   the smart one would realize the guns were the only sanctuary, the rest we were sending into National Parks, like yellowstone, which was large enough for them to hide, for now...  we could not allow them to back into the civilian population. That would lead to violence I abhorred... killing the innocent to save the innocent.   I could not allow a stampede.  They would come in and nuke the city if they thought we had them all on our side.

 The thinking  was it would be easier to save them from a camp then convince them on the outside to join our cause....   already they were paranoid -- the only ones left alive at this point were paranoid, pretty much.   I still had a stupid dream of freeing Chicago, making it the base of our country...   so we were starting here with the FEMA camp attacks here.  We knew the turf, had hidden caches of weapons, and the extensive layers of underground tunnels gave us plenty of room to keep people hidden from ISIS.  

  The FEMA camp is located near the lake, a series of Quonset huts set up to process the cities remaining residents.  The southside is now ISIS territory.   The internet blasted out their channel for a few days, before the government cut off all electronics with an EMP.   I guess they didn't want the panic fueled, though the effort probably did more to cause the feeling of apocalypse to rise in most.  The Christians were sure the end of the world had arrived, and I was the bringer of the lightening and fire that would do away with life on the planet, leave nothing for the souls to return to, remove the gravity of animal and plants that swept us back into the endless cycle.   I cared less for what was to come than they did, had no idea what it would be like to think there was a savior out there.  I was just trying to survive for now. 

After the induction process, the fed's assigned bedding and passed out meal tickets, two a day.  I lay on my bunk silently staring up at the cross hatch of metal separating the upper mattress from mine.  I could hear the wealthy already trying to buy meal tickets, but no one was sure enough of the worth of paper or coins, even gold and silver, to part with their food.  That did not stop them from trying.  My urge was to beat them to a pulp, but the last thing I needed was for the fed's to see I could fight.  Being able to fight made you suspicious in this day.  Too many soldiers were in civilian clothes trying to survive, cops as well.   I knew back in 2015 when the federal soldiers outnumbered the marines that they were ready to make their move...   I think about when this started for me.   I was ignorant as hell of the secret world behind the world, let alone that they had plans for me.  Going to college, wanting to be a journalist, back when I still believed the tv lie that exposing corruption and the ills of society would bring in the Calvary -- forgot the lesson of the Native Americans about what happens when the Calvary comes.

I think back to the first day I knew my life was no longer mine....

They approached me, five men, buff, military haircuts, with a story that I did not want to believe.  Telling me my grandfather was a spy and that I had started to grow wings as a child, and one day the USA was going to try to use me to start a world wide religion, then a one world government.  They were serious, secretive.   Told me I was monitored though not watched every second of the day, that they had a man inside the 'family' as they called them, who told them when it was safe to meet me.

We would be sitting in a lounge area at NEIU talking about topics that were almost too much for me to believe.  They explained that they did not know much, other than if I went along with them when the time came, there would be a general genocide, and that only a few hundred thousand would live, a chosen few underground.  I would be the one who marched the religious to their death, earned their trust enough to get them to all come together in communal living spaces, where they would be easy targets for poisoning.

At the time I believed them that they knew only this much.  Later I realized that if they had told me what I would really go thru that I would have headed for the jungles of Borneo, or anyplace other than Chicago, where I just happened to end up, after a woman who convinced me to leave Toledo, who they told me was a double agent between Mossad and the Jesuits.  The upshot was they wanted me in charge of a series of nuclear bombs they had set up around Nuclear Power plants around the country, to give me a SAMSON OPTION.   My death and it was over?  Sounded insane at the time, but the way they looked at me, with slight fear, knowing this was at least an angel, one who grew wings and exhibited psychic powers, drew storms to him...  They told me to just go on with my life....   I met with them three times, then they took me down into the mass of tunnels under the city,  Dark, rat infested, sewage stinking tunnels that seemed to run on forever, and practically did.

     "You have to prove to us that you know how serious this is."   There were no names involved.  He was about my height, the same short, military cut as the others.  Maybe mid thirties.  The others were slightly older.  All of them had the same serious expression, all the time. There was no play acting that they were normal.   I assumed they had all experienced death too much, and now that I have, I know I was right.   He handed me a pistol.  The first one I had ever held.  Black, heavier than it looked.  Showed me how to hold it with two hands and fire.
    He took out another gun, later I would recognize them as .45's...   he aimed into the side of a blonde guy's head, who did not even flinch as the blast filled the tunnels... echoing down thru the darkness over and over...    I suppressed an urge to scream, then fell to my knees and vomited. 
     "We are too identifiable, traceable.  They will figure out sooner or later, or might, who took the nuclear devices.   And we need to know you have it in you.  We have your psych profile.  You don't give a shit about your own life, but you care about other people.  They selected you carefully, or they would not have taken you seriously."
     They had explained to me earlier that I would be presented with a book about my family at some point, showing I was the end of a line of Scottish Kings, same as my grandfather, and my father before him.   My father was a drunken disappointment.  My grandfather the architect of operation bluebeam. 
     He pointed at the side of his head, then waved at the others.  We were on a concrete platform running alongside the small river of sewege taking Chicago's filth out into the lake.   One of them knelt down and tied two concrete blocks to the dead soldier, then they began tying them to themselves, around their chests...  explaining if they tied it to their arms or legs sooner or later they were erode off and their bodies would come up.   They were not sure how many years I had before they would come for me.  I was 24.  I would have almost twenty years to wait, long enough that the day became a bad dream...   A time I did not want to believe had even happened.  Even a mistake they had made.

By then I was committed...   and I they had explained to me I was going to see a lot death one day.  More than I wanted to imagine.  I saw that as a future eventuality.   More of the dream.   I was a story teller, or planned to be, take my step into journalism and maybe take a stab at fiction.   A romantic still.   That ended as they explained I would be killing all four of them.

I knew I could do it.  I grew up fighting and wanting to kill people over shit they did.  Fantasizing about it, not obsessively, just blowing off steam.   The first stepped over to the edge of the water, his face still showing no fear.  None of them seemed to care almost.  Like they were already dead inside.  I would learn that feeling, too...  though the deaths on my hand would surmount anything they had seen in intelligence, which is now where I knew they would have had to have been to learn anything about me.

I wanted this over with and to go back in the sunlight.  There was no question of our being friends.  They had not been friendly to me.  Just efficient.  The only thing I learned about them was that they were Christians, and could no longer go along with what they saw as a great sin, a judgement on humanity only a God was fit to make.   Later I would figure that they thought I was a God, or the Angel of the Armageddon... back then I did not believe in such things.

They tossed the first body into the water.  I watched him sink into the blackness.  The current was such that he barely made a ripple, just went down.   I took aim on the first one and he stared me in the eyes. "Try your best to forget this...  as long as you can, as much as you can."   Then he smiled for the first time, and added, "God blessed you."  I took aim and fired, took a step to my left, aimed and fired, another step, aimed and fired.   The gunshots sounded like lightening and thunder emanating from me.   They feel backwards and disappeared like the first.   A part of me hardened, already compartmentalizing the event away.  I was now in charge of turning cities to dust.  The weight of that seemed too surreal to carry.   Now, laying in my bunk, I wondered again what it would take for me to do away with everything I had come to love.  Looked around at the people laying on cots, most half asleep after the days of processing, being rounded up, laying awake hearing the gunfire, watching their tv's and computers as a threat they had no idea existed took over most of the USA.   I knew there was no ISIS, that the elite had mercenaries and federal soldiers wearing hunjabs and decimating the population.  All pockets of resistance were known, and taken down first.  My people had been careful with me.   I was well known by then, though cutting off long hair and a beard had seemed like massive plastic surgery, took me from a young looking hipster God to a middle aged man with a paunch.  I was usually skinny as a rail, so they fed me around the clock as part of my disguise, got me up to the weight of the clerk they had found who looked enough like me that altering his ID would draw no suspicion.

  The routine at the camp was mind numbingly dull to most.   I had always lived mostly in my own head, or other people's -- at least their books...   After the visit from the 'ghosts,' my life dimmed more than I thought possible.   I thought I knew depression, having written plenty of adolescent-esque poetry about lost loves and death in my high school years, after losing my best friend to suicide.  He was picked on, and me and my brothers, all five of us, had protected him all our lives, best we could.  My parents divorced, we moved across the country, and six months later he was dead.   I blamed myself at the time.   Now I was responsible for thousands of deaths, and did not blame at all.  I could hardly blame myself for killing the ghosts.  They asked me, explained to me that the world was going to be on my shoulders one day, proved their seriousness with a Christ like martyrdom to hide their secret -- and to instill in me how deeply I had to hide my own.   I went back over it all during those weeks, a conscious life flashing before my eyes before my death, or the distinct possibility of my death.  Setting off the nukes, to take out the concentration of Federales in the city, and elsewhere, was  a job I would not live through.  That was why I was in the FEMA  camp.  I could have been in the mountains somewhere, or on a submarine..  those who thought of me as a Holy man wanted to preserve me...  could not understand why I wanted to make Chicago my stand.   I wasn't sure either, really... just something I declared I would do when they finally came for me.   The time to leave the city to it's fiery fate had come, and my mission still needed me.  I had told no one yet, though I found myself compulsively running a finger over my right palm, where the ghosts had surgically inserted controls into my body.

Per the shadow war nothing is said literally, and nothing is chance.   I was doing okay, forty five years old, had an apartment on Sheridan Road over looking the lake, and was writing a journalistic blog, with a comedic edge that was popular, though not making me a lot of money.  I had been with the same woman for eight years, and she had stood beside me through the thick and thin, did not care that she made more money than me, put up with my cats, helped me host a literary reading once a week...  and smoked as much weed as I did.  Or even more, at times. 

I was friendly with everyone in the neighborhood, which was the most integrated hood in the most segregated city in the country.  Walking my Husky Ruby made saying 'Hello,' and 'She's friendly,' to everyone.  She was a lover who looked vicious with her mouth full of fangs.  They were said to be a terror in a fight, though jovial otherwise.  I could relate, of course.   I talked a lot with a 'musician' who worked at the carry out across the street from me, Tom Jones nephew, looked welsh, with black hair and blue eyes,  six seven at least, chubbed out enough to look threatening to some.  He was soft spoken though something about his eyes...   I was too into my own world to think too much about other people back then, to be honest.  I would later find out he was a spy, as was the woman I was with, and the one before...   Jimmy Peace he claimed was his real name, though I would later find out he lied reflexively, like most spies, and this was just a stage name.   He worked at a place called Sonny's.   Only much later would I figure out the entire neighborhood had been planned for Operation Bluebeam.  There I was the storm itself, with no knowledge at all of the lightening inside of me.

Jimmy called me up and said, "How would you like to make all of your short stories into movies, and do a comedy radio show?"   The electric euphoria that came over me-- something like being a teenager and finding out the woman you loved from afar loved you back times ten....   every dream suddenly fulfilled in a phone call...  Dan Milano, Greg The Bunny creator, wrote me saying sometimes the clouds did open in the sky and reveal heaven...   I had the usual dreams in my youth of being a famous writer, fed myself on them in the darker times of my life, when I made a drunken fool of myself and lost the respect of a friend...  when people treated me like a loser in the cab I drove during my stints at universities in Toledo, Ohio and Chicago.  The feeling had almost went away by the time I was 45, as did the ghosts coming to me...  for the first ten years I expected something to happen almost every day...  then another decade passed.... and I began to think the plan they talked about had never come to fruition, per my prayers, and the dread that came over me when I looked around the city and imagined everything I loved burning into an ash, turning the gorgeous lake front city into an uninhabitable radioactive waste land.

The first meetings with the radio show executives they talked like me and the two other hosts were going to huge stars, that there would be tours...  I announced on my blog that I had gotten the call of a life time, and my one famous friend, evidently let hollywood know and suddenly my readership in southern California shot thru the roof...  then Gwyneth Paltrow mentioned me on Entertainment Tonight, something about pot smoking, which was a big deal in my writing, fighting for legalization.  The excitement did not die down though... became a manic feeling like I imagine speed out be.  I was not myself.  I thought I was just excited but I could not stop my racing thoughts...  later I found out they had begun drugging me when they offered the radio show.   My first steps toward fame, becoming known to the world, were well on their way.   My blog was read in over eighty countries, and the internet station they were putting the show on was huge, downtown Chicago, with a huge picture window where people could watch us do the shows....

The manic feeling was growing worse, I was walking the dog down at the beach, out onto a small pier, when it struck me without any evidence at all that I was being watched.   I had the idea of leaving the dog behind to see if it was true, and tied her to the pier and walked down onto the beach, ranting that I knew they were watching me, and I had no idea why, but I was sure of it...   A memory of the bloody  holes in the foreheads of the ghosts, the mist of red behind them that they fell through into the dark stream of water...   I cannot remember now everything I said.  A woman walked up with Ruby, asking if she wasn't my dog?   It seemed to confirm I was being watched but I was still lucid enough to know this could be a co-incidence.

Three hours later I had a seizure out of nowhere, from the drugs, which they later told me were in the water bottles we kept refilled in the refrigerator...  M would fill me in on what happened next later.  She called an ambulance and when they arrived I refused to go with them, telling M. they were going to kill me.  The paramedics called the cops, who I guess I tried to fight, though M. was there screaming at them that I had just had a seizure and was not myself... I woke up without any obvious bruises, three days later, with notes scrawled all over my body, telling M. that the tv had been talking to me.   I was nowhere near normal.   I felt as if some transition had happened though I could not begin to tell what.

They transferred me to St. Anthony's Psych ward for further brainwashing.  I had been in a psych ward twice before, during the depression and drinking that followed killing the ghosts...  this was nothing like that. One woman kept holding up her hands and saying, "Cameras!"   Other than that she was perfectly sane, gorgeous, slim with milk chocolate skin.   M and I had been having problems for awhile, and I grew a tremendous crush on Gem, the cover name she was using.   In twenty twenty I know she was trying to tell me I was being filmed all the time, but that would take forever to sink in... and when I found out the extent, the humiliation was...  I am getting too far ahead of myself.

I spent a week in the psych ward.  The classic sign of being brainwashed is not thinking you are someone else, it is knowing you are not the person you thought you were.   I knew something spiritual was happening, began to think the supernatural was the only explanation...  I asked for a bible, and this being a Catholic bible, that is what they brought me.  For reasons I still do not understand, I recoiled at the thought of reading the green covered tomb they offered -- and even though I was raised Baptist, I asked for a Mormon Bible..  I was beginning to suspect I was the Christ, and they had predicted my return in the states... this thought meshed with a South Park episode, a comedic cartoon that was huge back then, where everyone went to heaven and the Mormon's were told they had the right religion... and other, more mystical reasons that I leave up to God to understand.  Later they would tell me that this one decision had caused thousands of Catholics to convert to Mormonism.  The belief they already had in me out in the world, a belief nurtured by the miracle of my growing wings, and living thru situations that would have killed a normal person many times over....  and the brain washing, or whatever they did.  I was a moral person, used to look at life as a way of service, and aa had me volunteering wherever I went, trying to do good deeds.  Just the way I was raised in a small town, without prejudices that I knew of, and those that were around were burned out of me by t the thousands of enlightened minds I had read over the years. 

I had no idea that from then on my every action would be seen as the work of a deity.  Again, if I only knew then what I know now.



  When I left a nurse came up to me and told me she was very honored to have met me, which was not exactly the kind of send off one expects after a week in a psych ward.   A doctor had come in and wanted to put me thru treatment, which I refused, because I had quit drinking years before, and did not consider the poet a problem, and in addition, I was in chronic pain by then... and they wanted to take me off the pain pills...  the thought that people thought I was faking pain after six surgeries was a touchy one to me.   A friend, also named Jim, though the radio host went by Jimmy, came with M. to pick me up on the last day...  His words as he slipped my coat over my back would come back to me when I learned everyone around me of any significance, and quite a few strangers and neighbors I had never spoke to, had been planted in my life.  World wide domination, planned out for over half a century, at least, had given them plenty of time to recruit and plot and plan.   I should have been on the watch for such things, you think I would have been... but cognitive dissonance, not wanting to believe there is a world behind the world;  not wanting to believe what you thought was true is all a lie;  the God-awful realization that are at a fly trapped in a web of lies that flows from horizon to horizin, had kept me from doing anything about the predicted future.   I had put it so far out of my mind that even when the evidence became overwhelming, the anxiety and horror that filled me would make my mind recoil from the truth...  anyways, the words he said as he slipped my heavy, lamb skin aviator jacket over my shoulders -- a jacket of course the Russian Spy I loved had steered me toward, were... "'MY LEIGE."

Now I had been thru being looked at as a king, a fraud, a racist, a betrayer of his race, a pervert, a celibate, a mass murderer, a God, a Demi-God...   I went home from the Hospital and began writing in the voice of Jesus... poetry like nothing that had ever flowed from my fingers.  Enough that I filled a book, and would later publish under Waking Up Jesus.   A chronicle of an angry God trying to reshape religion, working on very little knowledge of what was really going on in the world.  I was a hostage, did not know it...  I was from a family or associated with a  group that was racist, did not know it...   I was considered a king, did not know it.   I felt powerless the years after 07, when we moved into a tiny, roach filled apartment.   I smoked weed all day, painted on my little porch, wrote prose in the endless voice of Jesus flowing thru my mind.   I would see signs something was going on, occasionally the television made half secret references to me.  I remember ordering a play station, and John Stewart showed a clip of a long haired guy eating nutello, my then recent love, playing playstation.  They thought I was ignoring the world going to hell....  I just had no idea.

The fighting, a description of the life, prophesies, all the  questions you want to ask of God...  these are the sum of the recipe for this word stew.  Or is it merely Hobo Stew, water filled with a few rocks that are all I have to offer?   I was like that once.  Now I know too much.

Laying on the bunk listening to the people around me....   "They will have ISIS under control, no matter what they have'ta do.  I know it.  I was in the National...  well, my brother was in the National Guard."    Someone has made a mistake.  I intentionally do not look, but I know everyone else is.  Everyone who had served in the armed forces were supposed to report for duty.  None of them were heard of again and as much as cognitive dissonance stopped them from actually dealing with the thought, the suspicion that they were shot down, like the thousands, maybe millions of others considered Homeland Potential Security Risks was strong, if unspoken.   I wait a full minute before pretending to turn over.  I hear the same voice and look at the man.  He is in his thirties,  looks worried.   There is a food bounty for turning people in and most people had half starved families.   People had long before quit thinking of anyone except the few they already loved.  No one wanted to feel anymore death,   You kept everyone at a distance.   This is impossible for me.   Something has opened up that makes me love even my enemies, though I have had no problem having them murdered time and time again.   I am not human.  They told me I was all kinds of things, all the reasons they thought a child might have grown wings as a child... the wings they cut off, then used a year of chemotherapy to get rid of.

Thinking of the wings reminds me of seeing a doctor, when I was running out of pain med's all the time and ending up at emergency wards...  I told him about the treatment for my spondalolathesis, and he started saying, 'They do not treat...."  Caught himself, remembered who he was talking to....  the chosen one, back then.  Before they learned what they had really done when they took a man who grew wings and tried to brainwash morality into him.

I was already moral.  Too moral for them to understand, beyond the ideologies too far for them to see me.   Like a Bushka doll, they kept taking them apart until they got to the smallest, and inside found a cross of fire.   God had set them up.  They wanted to use a man to take over the world, operation bluebeam, start a one world religion around a being they documented growning wings, then march them into a one world religion.  Instead of a false God, they got me... the Real Thing.  Nothing like the actor they wanted.  A moral person unbuyable.  They were unbelievers, most of them...  I took a lot of them to an understanding of who I am until they filmed me masturbating, and sent this image out to the world saying it was my plan.   I was too humiliated to respond...  six months later I figured out they had been filming me and my fight was back.   Never has left again.

As MLK said, "You must lose your love of wealth and death to be free."



I am the most wanted man in the world, but they have other concerns, pockets of militias and homegrown lone wolves and groups of neighbors and families who listened to the underground ham radio broadcasts, before they were shut down, and know what was really happening.  That a fascist coup was fighting their way across the country under the guise of being an enemy of the state who was winning.  A brilliant and stupid idea, like all of theirs.  They took out the human element of their planners, of themselves, my enemies, and this made them underestimate how hard the animal fights when all they love is threatened.  They had cornered humans.   Now they were finding what on paper looked like a route, an easy march across the country killing everyone they did not need as slaves, had become a guerilla war they were fearing they would lose.

I provided the inspiration.   Still wrote my sermons in my head, the poetry that started the world looking to me for leadership....   every four months I surface and get messages out.  They tried to make me a general when this began, a non de plume among many I made for myself was gangsta general X.   I did not know enough about what was happening back then to be a general, and was not trained to be one.   I always thought my role would be like Thomas Paine, a writer who spurred on the revolutionaries, the soldiers, who would take it from there.  The lesson that he died drunk and hated because his beloved revolution allowed slavery was lost on me, until now.  They had tried to use me in a race war, one of the many distractions that kept the real enemies, the zionists and a psychotic group of noble supramists, and billionaires...  mostly inbred over the years from a few bloodlines.   I am in the Scottish one.

I am watching to see which one looks like they are going to report the young man who blurted out he had been in the national guard.   I look for the skinniest, the most desperate, the men and women with the largest families.   I see two who look like parents talking quietly among themselves, the woman waves at the children and the husband, a ferret faced man with red rimmed brown eyes, his face creased and weathered from the ever more dangerous sun -- they had stopped the chemtrails that were keeping the greenhouse at bay to use the planes in the war, and the conspiracy theorists who had been talking about them for years were vindicated, sort of... the spray was not supposed to kill them, it was preserving what was left of the atmosphere from going full blown greenhouse, the self-perpetuating process that was going to turn the atmosphere to acid one day....   the man gets up and theatrically  almost looks around, then settles his eyes on the blonde haired guy who said too much.  Their eyes lock for a minute.  I think there is going to be a fight for a second, instead the young guy starts for the door first.   He probably believed them when they were told at the entry to the camp that they could leave at anytime.

"Let no man deceive himself. If any man among you seemeth to be wise in this world, let him become a fool, that he may be wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness to God."
1 Corinthians, 18, 19

Too much thinking over the past...  too many faces of the dead.  Too much blood encased on me to even move.   Tonight there will be more. More grieving.  More loss.  More souls finding out it is better to be dead than alive, that their fear of death was just more of the foolishness of the survival instinct.


The plan is to use a boat to get me up the lakeshore, along with anyone else I can identify who is going to be a target.   The only one I have heard yet is the national guardsman, and the cop who interviewed me when I came into the camp.   I insisted on this.  The cop I have no idea how to get to...  they are being hunted because of me.  They made mistakes, still...  they were on mission for awhile.   My people are only worried about my safety, which I know is ridiculous, but try telling a human who has seen the death they have that God will not let anything happen to you.   There is always the doubt, the belief they have more wisdom than God.   I learned that I would be a fool and God would do what He planned no matter how much it hurt me, humiliated me, or killed.   Time and time again in this war I have thought I made a mistake, only to discover I had done exactly what needed to be done to subvert the enemy.

They are going to hit the four entrances,, which are loosely guarded.  We are miles behind enemy lines, the southside of Chicago is pure chaos, with the gangs banding together trying to hold turf, which is not going to work in the end, like any siege, because they are going to run out of food.  We have people among them recruiting, getting those who we can use out of the city, into the small units we are using, groups of five who communicate only thru carvings on trees, each spot known only to the units directly around each other, so no captures can bring down them all.

I wish there was a clock, know the time is close.   They have silencers, should be able to pull this off without alerting the authorities held up inside Soldier Field.   Our area is close to the lake, the wind always heard hitting the building, the waves crashing outside white noise. I feel it start.  The bit of the psychic powers I am afraid to explore, that come unbidden from time to time to save me from trouble, and have my entire life.   I am supposed to get up and walk to the door when I see a silhouette there.   I see the door open, the black outline of a man holding a pistol at his side, then he steps away.   I get up and start walking toward the door.   From the four corners of the room men get up out of their beds.   Silently begin to come in on me.  I whistle and the door opens and the soldier steps back in, another follows behind...  

One of the men closest to me pulls a phone out of his shirt.   I act defeated, looking at the ground, arms by my side.  He is taken by surprise when I throw a round house into his temple, put him down,  stomp the side of my boot into his throat.  Hear grotesque gurgles as his crushed larynx attempts to gasp in precious air.   The other three are taken down by silent shots from the soldiers.   People begin getting up, asking what is going on?  I tell them in a loud whisper, "QUITE.  We have captured three insurgents.  Lay back down and stay calm or you are going to be considered accomplishes.   You,"  I point at the national guardsman, "are coming with us.  We need trained soldiers.  You have nothing to fear from us."

God gave me a voice that can terrify or sooth, and taught me well how to preach what sounds like THE TRUTH, even when I am telling a lie for a greater goal.

We make it to the boat with no problems, it looks too small to deal with the waves, a thirteen footer, open.   Ten heavily armed vet's are inside.   We start off down the coastline and lights start coming on in the dorms, shouts we cannot make out come from behind us.   Everyone is dressed in black except me and the ex guardsmen.  I duck down out of sight, motion for him to do the same.
"Who are you?"   He asks, his voice terrified...  they have all been terrified for years now, all trying not to show it;  trying to pretend what they saw all around them fit the government narrative, no matter how incongruous.

"I am."   My response widens his eyes.  They have heard of me, saw me thru their internets and tv's when I was being filmed, when the enemy was trying to use the man who grew wings to jump start their world take over.   I kept my hair long back then, wore a beard...  stayed skinny as a rail.  Aged ten years by getting rid of the hair and gaining the fat, look like a balding, handsome middle aged man now.  Non descript.  They loved the rock star image of the boy who grew wings, which was  God's joke on them, my ironic father.... they cut the wings off, radiated them out of existence during a lost year in a hospital when I was five.   A ploy on the part of my father.  I am no angel.   I distrust angels.  Angels fall.  I cannot fall, no matter how close I seem to be hitting the ground, He is always there to pull me back up.

Lights begin sweeping the water.  They expect us to move out into the lake, as we knew they would, and staying on the coast line gives us enough time to reach an empty park down the shore, where motorcycles are waiting to take us to a church where the faithful have gathered, along with some they trust enough to attempt conversion.   I am not trying to get them into a religion, I am here this time to fight.  The religions of man, mostly started by me, all influenced by my presence, earlier religions I started, are meaningless to me...  how people behave is all I care about.   I am not the God that man makes up.  The Son of Man...  The Son of God.   A schizophrenic existence below, on the planet, and above, where I greet the souls, send some to a long moment of hell, welcome them all in the end to the knowledge, however fleeting for them, that the earth is a cocoon and they are all going to heaven.

I wish I could get across to them Heaven, the golden light, the souls basking in a love that they are incapable of even beginning to understand, a euphoria that is not in their chemical make up.   God glories in the souls, the souls glory in God.  In heaven, there is no motion.  Perfect stillness.   My planet is named Heaven, and humans became confused thousands of years ago on this point, so I let them hold onto the name.  We are the closest planet to Him.   My kind feels blessed to be close to Him.   We could go to God, into the golden love where all is explained, spend our lives in euphoric celebration of all God has created, tap into....   I cannot explain anymore than I have been told.  I am mobile, once a watcher of creation like all of my kind, doing the job of mercy killing the cocoons, forever heading from one planet to another.   The rest of my kind go home for long periods, thousand and thousands of your years, telling their tales to the others.  Not me.  God's presence is for those I send off.   They are drawn to His love from all places in the cosmos.   I am drawn to pain, a need to try to stop what I can of it... the gift/curse of the one being who amused his God, who gave the creature his first and only laugh, when He who was never meant to have free-will witnessed it too often not to have it wear off on me, and asked him if I could let a planet live?

I am thankful for my role.   I am humbled by His love and trust in me.  I am amazed that I get to do what seems more important to me than satisfying my own needs.  Angels are those who try to follow what I do, but they all eventually fall...  or head off to Heaven.  Either way I am not disappointed.  There is only one of me, and I would have no other live this life of eternal pain.

Our passage thru the gang territories has already been negotiated.  We drive off west to Ashland, go south to the First Trinity Church.  The darkness is in stark contrast to how light they were keeping the predominantly white northside.  Water, power, gas -- all shut off down here.   The leaflets dropped daily telling the people here to come to the camps to be taken care of.  The blacks have been more wary than the whites during the war, which has served them well, and why the revolution I started so many years ago was offered to them first, and the oppressed of all nations, eventually...  the elite who were backing me had no idea my words were not like their Machiavellian Svengali rap, until they had given me too much power to take it all back, no matter how much blood they shed.


I sense the snipers before the first shots begin to hit the pavement around us...  just as quickly I hear the soldiers I had surrounding the blocks around us moving in, battling with whichever group was trying to take us out.   I wave my comrades on toward the church.  Stop my bike and turn it off.  The shots zero in on me, letting the others safely pull around behind the church, where guards are already surrounding the perimeter. "You cannot kill me, "   I scream into the night.  "Surrender now and I will prove this to you."   Bullets rip through the tires, hit gas tank a quarter inch from my leg and gasoline begins to pour down my leg.   The fighting goes on.  They will not listen.   My own people are either yelling at me to come to the church or just standing stunned, watching me make a target of myself.  I know as long as they are concentrated on me that my soldiers around them can take them out with fewer casualties.   I can see flashes of white.  Hear the shots, see the gravel spewing up, hear it hitting my Helmut, smelling the gasoline.   THEN  my men converge at once on them from behind, distracted as they are from firing at me.  I hear the machine guns going off all around me as the snipers die.  I have told them to bring the heads.  Heads on posts terrified people in this time still.  Soon enough they would become common, as they had in the other lives I have lived.

Finally there is quiet.  They are all dead.  I hang my head and wish I could cry.   Think to myself, 'We will need to learn to cry again.  This stoicism will be the end of us.'

They saw me crying when they were filming me, and there was nothing I could do to stop... my hatred of the intrusion intense...   the media enemies I had developed made sport of tears from a man, telling me I was dealing with cretins;   that cheered me under the shame -- easy to beat cretins.
I was amazed I was crying, and wanted it to last as long as possible.  I had quit crying years before, become too distant from the feelings in my life to trust them to take me over, to be acquainted with them again was a freedom to me.  No one understands my actions, yet they are so intent to use what I do for their purposes.    I WATCH AND the old fires flare, then die back down in coals that can barely be seen, waiting for their moment to ignite a real fire... 
I DID lose my ability to cry.....good thing, because what I would do later deserved years worth of tears.   I let the bike fall to the pavement and move toward the church, barely hearing the reports that nine were killed, a gang hired by the ISIS factions to take me out.   They are torturing one of them and I can hear him screaming out that they knew they would be on bikes, and that is all.  Another shot tells me the interrogator believes him.  The brutality we have come to live with...   makes me think for a moment of the stoner comedy writer who they came for.   How little he would have believed anyone who predicted his future, let alone tried to tell him he was the son of God.


"Neat trick out there, setting up those snipers to shoot around you."  James and Vera and I are in a back room of the church.  I kept the dark motorcycle helmet on until we were alone, my face covered by the opaque plastic to hide the changes in my looks.   I take it off and look at James, the spy who acts like a sceptic who is not....   I never have understood why they gave him these orders, years ago, before we met...  though I have seen enough signs of his belief in me to know he watched the webcam with the others, believing a deity had arrived on the planet.    James is six seven, the muscles he pumped up with iron and steroids during his two tours in Iraq have lost their definition.   He still looks monstrous.  Classic rich boy handsome, blue eyed with curly blonde hair, a hard core Irish rebel at heart, proud his family starved during the potato famine rather than bowing before the British monarchy, he comes from one of the powerful families that once ruled the mid-west. 

Two of his uncles started in special op's and ended up doing work known only between them and the president, shadow warriors James had been pumping for information on how the world really worked since he was a kid.  He used to get them drunk and hear about the world behind the curtains;  what they didn't tell him he figured out with his 186 IQ and occasionally slipping into an aunt's computer that had a direct link to CIA eyes only files.  He had been sent to me years ago, my first human contact with someone who outed himself as knowledgeable about the shadow war;  before that they had sent me vague messages on the tv, occasionally muttered a message on the streets.   I was under heavy surveillance, knew as much, but not why.


 I was being worshipped by a group I did not know about, the CIA and others who I never heard the names of had told them I was giving them non verbal messages thru the way I arranged my apartment...    His mother had been hell bent on keeping him out of shadow war and he was all for it, a stoner like I was, a hippy kid who slept on the beaches in the summers in Chicago, until his family decided he needed to go into the army, straighten out his life, give him some direction.   He was fit for that life on the outside only.  Used to walk around the neighborhood with a kitten on his shoulder, Max...  they took out his family because of his association with me.  I barely stopped him from going out in a blaze of glory.  Just barely.  Kept him drunk and on mushrooms for a couple weeks with three hookers.  Not the conventional ways of a son of God, not that I fit any of the myths they attributed to me, for the most part.  A few had come all too true.

Vera has a wig made from the actual long hair that I was known for wearing, and hairs from my beard.  She  sits me down and begins  carefully putting the blonde/grey hair back onto my face.  She is going beyond the goatee I had, giving me a full beard to hide my weight gain.

Jay is become worried about me.   Knows that I have held the groups together, by my fame from the webcam, the favors I have done for certain groups, including saving a few of their lives. "Did you have them all killed -- sent for a reset, as you say?"   He thinks I set up the snipers who fired down on us while we motorcycled in.  One of the vet's had taken a bullet in the ankle.

"James..."   I have to play along with his cover, he has some reason for it, adds to my credibility I guess with those who are fighting with me despite how I am looked at -- one group had told me, ALL WRITERS THINK THEY ARE GOD, though they knew it benefited them to work with me...   I shrug, laugh as much as I do, short and fake.   "I would not have...   well, maybe they were just bad shots, you know how gang bangers are... they fire for some target and end up magic bulleting three year olds."

Vera is quiet.  She knows Jay knows I AM...  we talk around the topic, Jay's cover story intact as the cynic.  Vera herself grows more terrified of me by the day;  the miracles are convincing some that I am there to end the world, after defeating evil.   I cannot honestly tell them this is not true... or convince myself it is not true, much as I  wish I could. My Father will make that decision.   All I can do is fight the deluded elitists and pray that we win, usher in a new age that pleases my Father enough that he decides a mercy killing is not required.

Jay hands me a white robe  with a hood.   I rear my head back and roll my eyes, 
'Gotta hide that you've become a fat ass."
"Being told to eat a lot cake, man...  you get an order like that, you jump in.   A robe, though.... loose clothes would have worked."
"Not on me."
"Okay."   I take it and begin to slip it on over my clothes.
"Undress, man.  You gotta look all Mick Jagger for this show, like they know you.  I gotta say, man, you do look like a plain old man without all the hair, and fat."   Jay is the most blunt person I have eer met in my life, used to offend everyone in my family back in the day when the shadow war was being played out as a fight between sheperds who were afraid to let the sheep know, fearing the inevitable stampede.   I was sick with learning of what was really happening in the world, but  I look back on the time and know I had it so good that if I could go back... living a block from the beach, with a woman I loved, a husky who raised the cats.... just writing, smoking weed, listening to Christian music written for me.... and loving the feeling, the loyalty, the knowledge that some believed in my  leadership, even as the FBI interrogated me for crimes the CIA was trying to pin onme, and I was learning about the murder of peaceful protesters who came to Chicago, who I had basically ignored, writing in the voice of Jesus and knowing the words were the mission, not the protests...   a decisiion that proved correct, even though thinking of the agents beating young college girls to death on a golf course...   I have so many memories now like that I have to compartmaentalize them away to keep back the tears.  Had to show a front.  A hard warrior.  As I wrote in my Jesus trance, God's do not war.  God's slaughter.   And this has proven all too true..

I have a surprise for all of them.   When I went into hiding to change my appearence, a CIA defected scientist gave me two false eyes;  tech they have been working on for fifty some years, perfected and in use by the enemy, no doubt...       hooked up to the muscles surrounding my eyes, I had went thru two painful as all hell months learning to control the features;   I can focus almost like microscope -- close enough for my purposes;  I can now hear thru my skull from two miles away.  The reason the CIA had spent only God knows how many hundred millions plus on the eyes, I would be using on a human for the first time tonight...  I am fairly stoic about death, in the midst of battle, when I am wound up preaching to soldiers.   I am not a cold bloodied killer.   It takes the heat of the fire of God to change me from my usual soft spoken, half professor/half stoner sounding self;  tonight there would be traitors with equipment to track the meeting.   We have a damper going for a two miles around the church, no one was getting anything in or out electronically.   Two miles was enough for a nuke and they would try that on me if they could, though I knew I would be standing amidst the death unharmed, I have people I value too much in the area to sacrifice.

The red lasers coming from my eyes would surprise the hell out of even James.  Learning how to control the features had been easier for me than any soldier they had tried it on, of course, and they kept trying to test me to figure out why.... there is not telling a scientist and a group of shrinks who I really am;  they figured belief in a reincarnating guide was something for the soldiers to spur them.  I have had a headache since the surgery.  I take handfuls of pills, which I did sometimes anyways due to the back surgeries, which they tell me resulted from the wings growing, and what they had to do to pull them out during the year they hospitalized me when I was five.... maybe I took too many at times, my little cross, though I tried to be careful.   The lasers had caused a lot of damage when I was training with it.... out in a field learning to subtly manipulate the muscles around my eye that controlled the features.  The eyes are connected to a computer placed in my guts, which allows me access to gps, infra red and night vision, the ability to contact phones, computers, ham radios...  They took out everyone associated with the surgeries, then each other.  Hard core groups.  I had no control over any of it though I accepted their deaths over the layers of dry blood on my hands, my arms, chest, face...  soul. 

"So, you know we are going to have hinkey assholes out there?  You're going to trust them?"   Jay sounds cynical, acts like I am an idiot a lot, too much at times, with his IQ it has come a bit too natural to him,  and I act like one enough to welcome someone around me who is not afraid to put me down, for the good of the soul.  Maybe that was part of why his cover included being sceptical of my divinity?   I knew he knew from a couple slip up's he made when he was either wasted, or seeing if I wanted to act like Jesus around him -- something I had never done.  The five years plus I had been worshipped, they kept them from me, or if we met, and they did bring a lot of people to Chicago who just wanted to be in my presence, see me in person.

 I have a hard time relating to people on the other side of the mirror.  I envy them.   When I was 24 and married, I had a prophetic dream while living in Toledo Ohio and having no memories of Chicago other than the art museums our high school took us to every year, I was downtown on State street -- which I recognized years later when i saw it, and down thru the thin strip of blue sky between the skyscrapers, a cloud was approaching... and I knew Jesus was back.  I was euphoric, running through the streets screaming out, "JESUS IS BACK.  Look into the sky.... see?"  Then I was in a Catholic church, telling my wife that no matter how many women I had been with since we split up, that she was my only wife...her clothes fell off, she rose up into the air and then backed onto my hard dick...   afterwards I ran back into  the streets, and watched as the thin could began to descend right in front of me. The happiness was more than I have ever felt awake.   But when the cloud reached the ground there was simply a glam rock band playing, skinny and painted up, jamming on a guitar, drums...  That dream seemed like God giving me a slight idea of how people had once felt about me.

They forgot the part of my return saying the nations would be broken with an Iron Rod, that I would return with a sword.  Peace and love had been expected when they first introduced me... they tried to get me to go on stage with Yoko Ono at Wrigley Field, but a spy planted in my life, who I thought was a friend and was always there to front me weed, steered me away from going.   I was still half thinking maybe I had gone mad, that I was not who this voice seemed to make me out to be.  Jim.  He was among those planted around me to make me not believe in myself, so the CIA could manipulate me.   Another regret, the peace and love that I thought I was bringing to all in the world, that my even existing was the proof of God I had always sought, and was forever changed by having...   universal truths had long been shattered by my post modern philosophy classes, truth something subjective nd ever changing;  but the first few weeks, anything seemed possible -- if a CHRIST existed.

Now I am hated and hunted, actually turned a lot of people away from religion, drove others to kill innocents, leap from skyscrapers to protest my jailing, form into an army, taking over the white house...   nuke outside of Japan and cause a tsunami that shattered a nuclear power plant, which was slowly killing the pacific ocean -- unintended consequences.  Killing the English Royal family....  various actors who played characters based on me that mocked me.

That all came later, after I knew how they were looking at me, after the years of feeling like I was being taunted by more powerful people on tv...  and was surprised anytime something I did came up on a show, or mentioned on the news, always coded enough that other than my wife, who witnessed it all, I was afraid to bring it up with anyone...  I once wrote that they should do their worst and burn me with jokes, because I would them... having no idea the next week the tv broadcast practically nothing but shit about me.  I was stunned by how people saw me, humiliated...   my first taste of the humility that was to come when I learned there were cameras even in my toilet.  Saturday Night Live did a show bout me that even mentioned the church I went to, not even funny just practically a list of things... talking about how poor I was, pretending my dealers were my friends and mocking then, showing me they even had cameras there.   Afterwards I learned how deadly my supporters were when   I had to step in and stop the entire cast of saturday night live being put to death.  The CIA was keeping me isolated from all the action, so my life seemed normal, even poverty ridden.  The schizophrenia of one world going on the tv and then going out into the streets and everything seeming normal, other than the occasional strange words uttered to me by people I did not know, I felt entirely alone. I was alone, no one around in my life.    My day to day life usually seemed normal, a guy whith a broken back who wrote a blog and kept himself stoned from morning to night, ate handfuls of pain pills.  IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN...  is a thought I have had millions of times it seems, but God had not wanted me to know.  I opened the bible seeking a random passage, which was a game the Father and I played, where he usually gave me what I needed, not what I wanted.   The passage talked about how God would beffudle people at times to get his way.   I also found the passage talking about how the women following me would become barren the same way, after being told the same thing on the tv. 

'Yes, well, I think I know how to figure out who is with us, and who is not.  In fact I have a little surprise for you all tonight.   You stoned?"
'You want a bowl?"
"Nah, I just think you'll like this better stoned."

Part of my training with the eye was to focus in on others flesh, looking for signs of distress like sweating, flushing;  hands for the slightest shaking;  eyes for fear or cunning;  basically to note those who were playing a role, or reacting in ways incoherent with the situation.   I would use the eye to identify them first, before I said much of anything, then....  show them the brutal power of the son of God.

The gathering does not know I am going to be here.  Most of the world thinks I am in a bunker underground, on a submarine in the arctic...  all the places they tried to get me to go in the beginning, when they thought they were protecting me.  My resourcefulness in protecting them was nothing they would ever understand.   No life I had ever lived fully convinced anyone 24/7 what I am.  I understood, the doubts...  I had them once, on a cross, when I thought I was going to win a revolution and instead He made me a symbol, the day I took the worlds sins as my own and knew what it truly was to be human.  The day a God's son was humbled, and a Father turned away from the pain and the cries of his son...


"I have a surprise for the enemies in our midst, Jay.  Trust me for a change, alright?"
'Yeah, right.  I'm trusting these."  He waves over at the small arsenal he has been travelling with, ak-47, grenade launcher, a shoulder held anti-aircraft missile...  I know nothing about weapons.  Never owned one.  When you can pull lightening out of the sky the only reason you would need a gun is avoid over-kill.... and over-kill kind of goes along with what I do.   If I did not know all souls go to Heaven, I would not be the most deadly creature in all of creation.  I do.  And I am.

"I will have a hit off that bowl."   Jay hands me the bowl he has been puffing on since I came in, I take a long harsh hit and hold it until my heads go light....  blow out the little bit of smoke that is left, take another, do the same...   "Alright, let's go."
"You want some visine?"   Vera has been quiet the whole time.  She is terrified even with the valium she pops like candy.  
I keep my face hidden as I approach the podium.  They do not know who is going to speak.  Some wish it will be me, others are too terrified of one who seems to kill without caring.   I scan the room and note the various groups have taken their own spaces.   I need them all together by the end of the war, but that is not going to happen tonight.   The church is small, hardly decorated...   bare wooden pews, the smell of murphy's oil soap brings back a time long before I knew who I was, when I was a man who was a student bachelor with an apartment that I kept clean, lived with two cats and studied all the time, living with the knowledge I would be famous one day...  with no idea what would happen with this fame.  That I would be the most famous man in western history.

The cops are grouped in the front pews to my right, the gang bangers in the front to my left.  James has soldiers lining the walls.   I use the laser to scan their heart beats and note three men in the back are particularly fearful, sweating slightly... their eyes scanning everyone around them.  We have used a radio blanket to stop their phones from showing their superiors where they are.  I point at them and soldiers grab them and put handcuffs on them, bring them up to the podium... my face still hidden, I pull a hand out from under the robe and slit the first one's throat.  The blood splurts all over my white robe;  the other two struggle madly, James grabs the hair of the second one and pulls his head back, exposes his throat....   I pull down the hood from my head and hear gasps and talking erupt, slash his throat knowing his jugular will cover my face in crimson blood.   I must look ghastly for this, a horrifying figure.... show them exactly what they are dealing with.   I have come to destroy this planet, or save it, and they must know, must see, that I am a killer with my hands as well as my words.   They know me as one who orders deaths, not a hands on killer...  James pulls back the third ones head, I deftly slice the knife across his throat, then reach over the podium, take his hair in my fist and begin the process of slicing his head off...  I have to hack at the spine.   Seems to take forever, before I am holding the dripping head up over the podium.

Through the microphone I say, in a soft, steady, calm voice, "These men are traitors.  I can read their minds, as I can read yours."   This is not true, but I want them to think I can.   No one has weapons but four men try to get out of the pews.  "Kill them."   I have no idea what they were planning.   The bloodlust is up in the crowd and they begin punching the men, then hold their arms and strangle them.

'Tonight you will each gather five you trust, and we will get you out of the city.   You will know your destination when you are there.  No phones, no calls to say you are leaving, not stepping out of line in any way.  No speaking to one another.    We are going to win this war my way.   I have been used, you have been told that I gave orders that were not mine...  they believed they would use me as their fake God in operation Bluebeam.  My ironic Father gave them the real thing, the one person they could not buy.   He sent me into the desert once with Satan.    I have been offered this world before.  I do not want it.  I like mine a lot a better.   You will, too."  

"I know you have been made to fight one another, and your feelings are raw.    I know the bangers hate the cops and visa versa.   You are souls in flesh.  The flesh has erred, your souls will not.  You will act as souls in my presence, in my forces, or we will discard your flesh, and the flesh of all you love.   We will want lists of the family and friends you want us to get out of the city.  This will be phase two.  For now, you will be setting up a safe perimeter where I can send civilians.   You will be heavily armed, and they know I have nukes set up around the city....   I will use them if I have to, though I would rather not.... should I, we will be far enough outside the city to survive.   I want everyone of you to remember to learn how to kill without passion.  To follow this thru you will eventually lose everything you love, including your lives.  The best I can do for you is to save those you love, and give those who come next a mercy killing, or a thousand years of peace.  You need not have faith in me as anything of other than a man."

Now comes my surprise, the science  I added to avoid using my gifts...  I know if I start using the fire and lightening inside of me that this world could end.   I do not know if I have control.... before the wild magic has just happened.   "Leave now."    I look up into the corner of the church behind me and the lasers flash, a split second of red, just enough they can all see... later I would hear that I shot blood from my eyes and the church began to burn down.  I liked that myth and kept it.
"Uh...  No, they all know I smoke."




They are followed when they leave.  I have to take every precaution to weed out the infiltrators that  I would be filling this area, where they knew I would recruit.  I told them I would, so they would try to get ready for me, I could find out all of their preparations, then work around them.  Doing war with people who have not been at war since the inception of human war makes thinking well ahead of them too easy.  KNOWING YOU ARE GOING TO WIN all the time makes decision making effortless, I am an agent OF A GREAT GOD who will not let me make mistakes.

  I make what seem to me mistakes all the time, and then remind myself how far this trust has taken me... I am human as I get at this point.  There is a reason for that, I need to understand humans.  People think this is easy for me but it is not easy at all.   The ways humans think is quite different than my own, though they can trick me and lie to me and take advantage of my trusting nature all they want, when I know God is so active in my life, I trust the instincts, but the scientist within me knows that I am also trusting all the lives I have lived before, who were trained in warfare.  This time I am here for something very different.  I have to give them a religious view that will either lead them to life or death.   I have to wait for that decision to be made by another, all the while acting like I will bring ten thousand years of peace ... if I lose, well... what the hell else would you be doing if you knew you were the only one with the chance to save the world, watching tv?    I do that, too, during the periods of waiting and learning and preparing.   No point in rushing into the new battle in a long, long war.  Wait until you have an object, then take out the precision target, get your people out alive.  The longer I can fight like this, the easier raising an army will be.


There are town across the states that do not even know this war is being fought.  They keep the areas away from conflict living so normally that they have no reason to make any changes in the lives they have been carefully steered into living to avoid them revolting against the plans of those who would come to slay them.

Chicago they know could leak out, so they are putting up the FEMA camps and giving themselves PLAUSIBLE DENIALBILITY, HONEST AVERAGE PEOPLE THEY CAN DISPLAY TO THE NATION THANKING GOD THE GOVERNMENT WAS THERE TO SAVE THEM FROM ISIS.

We channel soldiers throughout the night, find that only ten of the forty four we had at the church made moves to head toward the enemy.   In every gang we had promised leadership to three separate people with large followings, prepared to take down the ones who proved corrupt.  They would be patient as they were told, to wait until we were ready for them to lead, that the first of those who head into a battle are there to die, the ones who are best trained are kept back.  Send in the children, is what the older soldiers would do....  the ones who survived would be the greatest warriors on the planet.  And very lucky, blessed by the Gods.  They knew this cruel tactic to be true.

I was believed back in the days they understood there is magic.   I had been seen in too many life times performing the miraculous, destroying cities with the wave of my hand at times....  bringing down the walls.   Mostly though my work through other humans, how my armies never lost, got out of the trickiest position... they would begin to believe I protected them, when it is my father who must decide who is protected or not, or  I would protect them all.   He knows only their soul matters in the end, but I am trapped in this thing called TIME when I am a human, and here lives matter.  MY FATHER UNDERSTANDS time of course better than I wish to try of course, like all things -- when I think I have out thought God I have merely thought behind one of the lies about God, like those that fill the bibles, because after all any asshole can write a book, even  back then....  and back then they believed anything they came up with was prophesies, which is a load of shit.
2222


I come with messages  I barely understand, leaving messages to myself in the future.... that are taken all wrong.   I do not expect humans to quit enslaving each other, murdering, falling prey to sick forms of sensuality sickening to all around them -- no I do not speak of homosexuals, God does not care in the least about such things and gives them lives they must bear burdens no others can understand, the hatred of a society they are growing up, the need to hide themselves, so later they will better as a military unit.   The facts of life are beyond humans but each and every one of your experiences was training you to be in my army.

Think about that for a moment --  WE PLANNED THIS... you were a soul so experienced in a human life from being of every ilk that you were ready.  SOME  call you returning Buddha's, but they have no idea that some Buddha's do not want to be recognized at all... and might be there merely to lay in the street crippled and diseased and homeless so that the occasional heart is touched with mercy.  That is more important than humans realize.  Yes, they choose the worst jobs, not the easiest.  HUMANS who have fallen prey to the sensualities, the wonders of youth, and forgotten the reason steel is inside all humans, a hunter and one who can fight hunters.  At your base, this is your training.  NOW YOU WILL NEED IT... or those who follow me will, and  I imagine many of you are reading this as I write it, originally, on this blog which will be a book, like my last one waking up jesus from which they STOLE ALL THE MEANINGS AND MADE THEM THEIR OWN FOR WHAT THEY THOUGHT WERE THEIR PURPOSES... I HAVE NOW IDENTIFIED WHO THE ENEMIES OF THIS TIME ARE...TAKES ME A LONG TIME BECAUSE I WANT EVERYONE PROTECTED.  I KNOW the pain of killing even enemies, of doing what you must to stop a war with people who are stopped only a greater power killing and killing and killing....


I know how to terrify the world, to be the alarm  clock.   I know how to defeat the enemy and they have tried to defeat me so many times and lost that they too have given into the knowledge that I win, and this is not even a game to me, just the day to day I have to unthinkingly go thru because I know now how all this ends and I am bored with this game to a degree -- you win if I save the planet, you win if I do not...  some souls will be sent to a hell of my own devising, to decompress from what the flesh has done to their souls -- hell, though hardly that except in their minds;   they get out.  I would not sentence a child to eternal damnation for making a mistake, I would to make sure their soul is properly prepared to meet my father.   This is a gift I give them.   I would not punish them at all, but this is not my cosmos to control.  I am the son, I AM, first among many.   The one who first said I would like to keep your creation alive, and not destroy this planet.

I SAID NO TO GOD... and this made him laugh.  He has laughed at me many times since, but that was his first laugh... he had never understood them except the shift of atoms before, in creatures that arrived in creation to become souls.   He does not see every bird, he see's every molecule and other things too small for you to ever discover in everything he creates, see's their past and future and all of their genetic passages and who they are in and what their molecules are doing ad infinitum about everything everywhere and there are many, many more planets than you can imagine as a human.


Now I wander in search of pain, to hold the hand of the dying.  I TOLD GOD DO NOT GIVE THIS KNOWLEDGE TO MY PEOPLE, DO NOT SUFFER THEM WITH THIS PAIN.  That was my response to his laughter, because within it he told me I was the first to be so fascinated with the creature to want to save them.... that this made me unique, a creature who could understand them in a way he did not have time for.  You save these worlds if you can, for awhile.... you will find nothing else important now, all you loved will dissolve into meaningless things you must keep out of mind to be an effective warrior.

I knew too much at once and fled his face, off to the next one to explode, there was no other creature traveling in soul to the planet, it was already exploded in the places without time, and always exploding...  I would let myself be born one of these creatures, experience that which God had shown me, pain....  the dead feel no pain, I greeted them from planets where life could no longer drag them back into birth within the cocoon, and released them...  they were happy.   NOW I WOULD FEEL THE PAIN OF THE LIVING.

I remember that first win, and the loses....  in the end they do not matter.  I will never give another thought to this earth when I leave, more than likely... unless there is some need, I will file this experience away....  another mission.


Not to say I do not have free will.  This is the hardest thing to preserve in a religion.   FREE WILL AROUND A GOD is almost stupid -- or would be stupid if I were to place myself in the thinking of a human meeting me.  The problem you forget is why I do not cure people -- I gave you doctors to ease your way into passing, to prolong and ease your lives.  You are going to die of something.  I do not get in the way of the inevitable....  there are things  I CAN CHANGE... THEY REQUIRE MY FOCUS...


Like tonight, under a sky of brilliant stars in ink black sky, the writing of lives across the universe, the stationary seeming always moving creation of my Father... to not trust the creator of such things -- these are the things I understand as  a human, the great forgetting it takes to suffer through life....

We camped around fires with tarps over them, to stop them from being seen from the sky.   I know they know where we are, practically, but they will want to pinpoint everything and this and that... humans do not know how to just trust God and act.  I know only this, even though I think otherwise at times.

In the morning, we begin sending two men squads into the city to gather the families.  I took care of mine last year.  Thinking of my wife and cats and brother makes me rage at those who would kill those I love.    I have to control this fire within.   This WILL be the thought on my mind if God sets me off, which could happen at any second.  He will know I have seen the loss many moves ahead if it is to come, though this time  I think everything is right... this is the only life he has given me the visions of ending the earth....  so I will have to fight harder, meaner, more cornered than ever before.  Do the ancient evils -- as they were called -- if I must.  This is why in revelations it says Jesus is the son of morninglight as well.  To some I will appear the devil himself....  though if that were so, they would not be alive to even think the thought.  They would be in hell, where he once reigned, they tell me.... whether you want to believe in hell or not is your own business, I think this is hellish enough for me without thinking there is a place even worse.  THAT IS A HUMAN PROBLEM.   THE WORLDS PROBLEMS WILL NOT BE SOLVED BY THE DEAD, BUT BY THE LIVING WHO ARE WILLING TO DO WHATEVER IT TAKES.


I have shut down the memory of killing the men in the church, having the others beaten to death, until James able to get to all of them and strangle them out quick.   He acts without thinking, the soldier who trusts, though he is more, he will not admit the visions that haunt him, or that he is around the most dangerous man in the world, outing himself from  a covert life where he could have gotten married and lived a good life... Then they sent him to work with me directly, and he found the lies they told about were untrue, that the ways I HAD BEEN USED AT FIRST was the only way to learn what the enemy was doing, and how to destroy them.

I came into the war in the last battle with no knowledge there was a war.  And have won again and again and lost again and again and the miracle of living thru all of this has them calling me Superman.   I am not that weak.  You have no kryptonite to use on me, and I am not afraid of killing.   I hate to/I LOVE TO.  Just depends.



The missions throughout the day come in easily, people with black sacks over their heads and their hands tied behind their backs are screaming in joy to find that they have been given back to see their relatives running to great them and telling them they are safe.   Such displays are required, last through the day.  All I feel is the fear of the ones being brought up.  Soon we would bringing up the ones who would not have such fine endings, they would feel my knife, talk, die.  The eyes allow me to determine truth, inflict incredible pain....  I have to use them only when I must, or for a display like back at the church....  HE SENT BLOOD FROM HIS FIRES AND BURNED DOWN THE CHURCH WITH OUR DNA.   He had James tell this to one of the more talkative, belief filled soldiers.   James has a hell of a time getting across that I do not want to be worshipped.   
This is part of why he pretends he does not know who I am.  He is wise enough not to be impressed, knows his part in all of this is just as important as mine, that everyone's is in the ways that matter, that we are all just matter that becomes conscious of the love of our creator in a way that free will demands God acknowledge... he gives humans whatever they want in the end.... if only they truly knew what they actually wanted, but that knowledge would destroy their ability to be in the flesh.


How do you stop everyone from killing themselves when you realize that everyone is going to heaven?   By instilling in them that they must protect the innocent animals, rather than make them die for our sins....  though they have souls to be released as well, same as plants and all life...   in the end we are all the same thing, so how could it be other?   Molecules gathered by gravity they do not even understand.



We send the men to defensive positions dug down into the dunes in the months we had been preparing for a siege.   I wanted them concentrating on cutting off the head of the snake while my soldiers raced across the country, gathering converts to our war by science and religion, whichever was needed.   I do not care what a person believes at all, by the way, as long as they are not in my way.   I believe in let and let live....   except in war.   Then I believe in live and kill.


"LIVE AND KILL!"   The camp goes silent around me.  I have been a quiet presence in a bloody robe, his face matted in the black of the blood of the enemies all know I killed in the church.  None talk about how the lesson got them to follow my order to kill the other four, which was what was important about the church killing.   I have accidently yelled out my thoughts.   I guess God meant this to happen.   I am embarrassed how he uses me at times.  Natural for a human son.

I feel the natural emotions of a human, think their thoughts unless I let the primal, God in me rise up...  I used to use drugs to evoke the creature, pain, there are many ways to entire the trance, to break up all the compartmentalized places I have had to put my thoughts to continue functioning as a human.

I used to go caves for years at a time living the life of a God, an ugly, body killing ecstasy filled with horrifying depressive periods, but always, the writing to release me, or the preaching in early times... I knew few of what I said would be remembered, released to the world at large, have an effect earthshattering as Luther tacking his truths of the door of the Catholic Church -- a church I preserved, and well...  I will change them in ways that allow their survival, instead of letting them die of their own volition, as they had been doing for centuries.

The families around me trust me, even though their mercy killings already have me grieving for them, as their family members who know are.    I was able to keep the illusion up around me for long enough... 



WEEKS LATER...  the world has been told that ISIS leadership is in the Indiana States Dunes, with nukes set on nuclear power plants, ready to use the bombs in the most destructive manner possible if attacked, while their troops, the real ISIS.  We watch on the government channel, listen to their radio reports...

Around the country we have almost enough cities to begin.    I start the fun by setting off the nuclear bombs in Hollywood, Brentwood...  the west coast falls into anarchy, and we are the only force there prepared to save enough people to make any difference, we get the national guard on our side, all the soldiers in the area, have them frag their leaders -- all liars who sent their young to die fighting a foe their government created.


I BEGIN giving nightly radio addresses that they have no way of stopping...   methods laid out long before they realized where we would go, or that I had enough people in the navy to bring a fleet to east coast.... ready to evacuate those who we could.    I have had to sacrifice a lot in this war, this was the big one.  They were still trying to put out movies, tv shows for the official stations they believed would come again, foolishly, what they were told by superiors who wanted to keep them busy until they found out they were disposable.


I have to balance my words between those who know I come from a planet far from here.  The great powers know I started to grow wings at five, and immediately began planning on how to use me...  evil always tries to use good as their cloak.   THEY PUT MY CRUCIFIED images behind their podiums, display my worst day to you....  IN my Father's houses... none of them were mine, you were long past preaching my words.

Jesus was dead.
Scott was here.   We are Gods for different times, with different agendas.   I have given rise to science, and now they are the enemies of the salt that has accumulated in the bibles, the lies about me.... the clouds of lies that surround me, hiding me from anyone I do not reach out and touch... 

I do not want only those who are religious to follow me.  Religion is not what is at stake,  Life is, and that is science, not spirit.  Spiritually they would all be fine.   They have survival instincts though, and fear death...   except those who follow me.   I use them for different purposes, all of them working for God whether they know it or not.


I watch the television as they show the mushroom cloud closing down the dream machine in the west.  The innocent souls sent to heavenly bliss above the planet hardly concern me.  I do not know them personally, and I only can allow myself to love those people, so I make them very, very few.   I have to be able to kill everyone on the planet, and that was going to hurt no matter what I did, but I like all of you wish to lessen my pain, so I do....  I still love goldfish  I had years ago, parks I visited as a child, trees who were my only friends for thousands of years...   as we watched the quick moving beasts around us....   speaking only rarely. 

















 The CIA HAD BUILT UP A RELIGION AROUND ME.   I am a war God this time, and only my soldiers would know what that meant, and the others were to think of me as  a creature without the mythic powers of their bibles other than being able to flood and draw lightening out of the sky, a man with friends with nuclear bombs set up in many of the underground dumbs where the elite thought they would escape the human cleansing I was about to embark on.  This is why I am a Christian.  WE OFFER REDEMPTION, FORGIVENESS TO THE BRINK OF DEATH.   No other religion of war can save as many of their enemies, most who were just deluded into fighting against what is best for you.


The most racist gang bangers in the cities, who wanted to kill me for even having cops in that Church, were today ready to fall down on their knees and act like zombies.   I preserve FREE WILL or I will have failed.   ONLY OTHER MEN WANT YOUR WILL, SO YOU WILL DO WORK FOR THEM, HAVE SEX WITH THEM, GIVE YOU THEIR MONEY...  God has you in his hands, and I am not going to pretend I know better.   You would not if you knew him as I do, had lived forever with no beginning or ending loving a trustworthy creator who allowed you to explore his vast garden created from atoms, the artist who inspires all art...  and is all art manifesting in the hands of the masters and the ones scrawling crayons on the wall.



I am preaching. and though I have to preach in this book, those are supposed to be shown as metaphors, in various scenes.

FOR INSTANCE


A writer inspired by God writes down a tale about how animals were more important than corrupt humans -- that animals are as important to God as man, even.... this writer puts a guy on a boat and floods the world, in a hack writer's metaphor, and then reincarnates back and finds there are fundamentalists and so called science types trying to prove or disapprove God by this passage.... sigh. That is why in this book I am going to have to preach directly to you at times.... the war in this book is not a metaphor, either. Just the killing that goes back and forth when the evil are in control and the righteous remember they outnumber the evil 99 to one.
SO, forgive me for not trusting a group that took the idea of being Noah and protecting the animals before corrupt humans.







As expected, they send in the National Guard three days into our time in the Dunes.   I have kept the people here, as bait... not telling them this.  I need only about thirty of them to continue the war, and the rest would already be dead if  I had left them in the cities.  I offered them a temporary reprieve, so why spoilt it by telling them.   They would be sent out in groups, most with one with a gas mask and a disease to kill everyone him with ease and dignity.    A few would be leading soldiers who we needed enough to get out... the leaders of the gangs and cops we would need to enter the cities and recruit the forces we needed, undefeatable, in control of the civilians.  God makes this easy, supplied the protectors of their peoples into two different, military drilled groups.  The mesh much better when the bangers discover the cops love weed, and open the troughs of drugs in the cops shops and they party when they can.  Not often, but enough they will die for each other.  They learn this as they move toward the cities they will infiltrate, where they will disable the hospitals, the schools, blow up anywhere they can hide, then lead them away from the carnage, telling them this is for the best, that showing them the pictures of the cites the  ISIS has been through, strewn with every man woman and child hideously raped and tortured, by  a government trying to get people to hate what their soldiers had done, pretending to be their enemy.

I would bore myself to death describing how successful we were, a couple months and we had the cities, protected by professionals with limited nuclear devices, radar scans and blockers, everything they would need to destroy the hired soldiers, who would fight until it looked like they might get actually killed, then run.... no amount of money is worth their life, they figure out in the end, their swagger long lost to the itch in their thighs caused when they pissed their pants.

I have remained in the Dunes.   I will nuke out Chicago, LA, and New York if I want, and they know this.  Gives me a lot of leeway, and if the attack they sacrifice more than either one of us wish to.  Not exactly nuclear assured destruction, though it could easily escalate.  Still losing three cities was a lot better than releasing my powers.  This gives me alone relief.  That is the way it is supposed to happen.  I must be doubted, otherwise free will disappears from the planet, and I will have to do a mercy killing whether I want or not... if humans follow other humans, they will never find God and I will allow priests to stop direct experiences with God, which is the only way to discover the creator... listening to other people talk, humans who can tell lies as easily as breath, and are filled with too incomplete of knowledge to truly defend any of their beliefs.   WHAT GOD KNOWS WILL ALWAYS MAKE WHAT HUMANS THINK IS TRUTH SEEM LIKE FOOLISHNESS... I GET BLASTS OF IT ONCE IN AWHILE WHEN I AM THE SON OF GOD, but I must mostly be the son of Man.  The son of  Man can save humanity.  THE SON OF GOD WILL SEND LIGHTENING AND FIRE FLOWING ACROSS THE GLOBE UNTIL THEY CONVERGE IN THE MIDDLE, KILLING ALL ON THE GROUND, ALL IN THE AIR....  LEAVING only me, standing in  rising circle of red hot lava, the earths surface itself burning fire like the center of the planet.   Another soon to look dusty and unable to support life.

We hear first the explosions.   I laugh while everyone around me at the picnic table turns solemn.  
"They just discovered what they are dealing with.  They want to figure out how close they can get, are making plans, even though they have none that can... they have wanted to attack me for many years, though they know it is foolish unless they are ready to pay a price they cannot afford to pay.  What I have done so far is not worth the risk.  By the time it is, it will be too late.   They still think they can win.   Best learn to laugh at the death of your enemies, because there is not going to be much else that makes you laugh soon enough.   You lived.  They died.  Soon enough you will laugh over that alone.   This is not a protest, I think you know that by now."

"You are having our families killed, right?"    James speaks the words knowing they are the last thing I want to say.   He is my connection to the underground, knows what they want said, and I have to trust them until it is safe for me to end my siege of Chicago and meet with those I know must trust to run my armies.

I had a few of them smiling with my comment.   "Yeah, we are getting rid of them.  They would have been killed the other night.   I chose to give them a slight reprieve.  From here on in, they are going to torture everyone you know who they can catch.   I gave them a chance to live, and a quick death, from fentynl.  They will get stoned and die.   You will thank me with tears in your eyes for this later.  Those who are caught will die smiling knowing your loved ones were spared what they put you thru."

"I WOULD not have given you this knowledge now, but I am not going to take your free will.  James speaks not because he is my brother, he talks because what he says, he thinks need to be said, because we have to pound into your minds to do the unthinkable.  You are going to fight monsters you have never imagined existed and love killing them.   That is all you are to me.  Sorry... that is the way it has to be for awhile."


James comes over tells me I have to get on the radio, and holding a bowl out towards me.






I hate this part.  Earning their fear.   I cannot get their respect after the smears tossed out about me.   I will not be trusted by these soldiers ever, they will always think  I wanted a race war, that I slaughtered the Christians who first came to my side...  I cannot get to them all, and there is no need to.  How they think of me does not matter at all.  I have brought prophecies to bring down rulers into life after life and been hated enough to be murdered slowly in most lives.   I brought my sword down this time, which He had never allowed before, another indication this was my last encounter with humns.

They get their peace, no reason for me to stay.... they die, they will naturally be drawn toward the overpowering love of God....    a dream come true that merely approaching was the best feeling that God bestowed on creations.


I leave the campfire and go to my tent.  There is nothing for me to do but wait, and taunt them on the radio...

I pick up the wireless microphone and pin it to my collar.   The broadcast should have begin five minutes before, though the audience was used to my being late...  tonight I do not know what to say...  by now they have heard about LA.   By now the elite realizes we can strike anywhere, anytime, even among their armed forces, there are more of us than they could hope to purge without all branches of the service breaking down into chaos.  For now they were following their orders to let ISIS take over the USA, believing that they were doing the right thing.   The officers had questions of course but they knew to voice them would mean a quick death.

I turn on the radio, James sits with his head back, smoking a cigarette, blowing the smoke up to the ceiling of the tent, where a small cloud is developing from the weed and cig's.  Take a deep breath, and start talking, using my  calmest, most reassuring voice, "Hello world.  To those who are grieving today I offer my condolences.  We will hit them back for what they have done.  There is not time to grieve, no time to gather around the bodies and have a funeral...   right now you have to keep moving.  Dust to dust."

I know how many have really died, though most of my listeners have no clue...  some are in cities where the ISIS army has not even hit.   I want to make sure they know what is coming, though my heart is always going out over death, even though I know they become souls, that is not enough comfort to fill the hole left in life,

'You have seen by now that I am in Chicago, and the forces have concentrated on attacking the mid-west, leaving the coasts as refuge from the war.   That ends tonight.   The Peoples Corasell Nuclear Plant has been destroyed by a nuclear weapon in Los Angeles.   We set off the bomb just before my address.  May God be with you out there, the innocent.   My SALUTE to those who helped with our evacuation, and I am sorry we could not get everyone out.  They would have known what we were doing, and we wanted our enemies gathered together.   No other bombs need go off in this war.  You need to learn, no matter who you are, that this is happening, here, and ISIS is your own government attacking you.  They are mercenaries, forces of old ruling families who control the money in the western world, who are taking this continent and installing a dictator, who will enslave you to corporations, as prisoners in jails let out only to eat and work for free.   You do not have to believe this, just know we are not ISIS.   The army outside of Chicago, that they are telling you are terrorists, are trying to stop the terror set lose by the USA's government, factions there of.   We are fighting ISIS and this is what you are going to have to do, sooner or later, or you will be enslaved.  They have you believing the big lie, just like they did in the middle east.    We saw there what we are now seeing here.   I do not have much more to say than that we are safe.  We will hurt no one else when our enemy surrenders... until then, they should know... you are going to lose, and that means anything you do from here on out will be a waste....  Good night."