BLOOD MEMORIES NEVER FADE WORK FOR CHAPTER SIX... NEW PROSE.

I AM using quite a bit more exposition than the novel will end up having.  This is not necessarily prose that I do not like, more prose that will not fit in the end object.   This book is  a mixture between preaching and narrative action.  Finding the proper way to keep tension and interest means having a mix between showing and telling.  Right now I am telling a lot more than showing.   Usually unless I am essay writing, my stories have always been very much about showing.  Showing is one of my most honed skills, and also to me exciting to read... when done correctly.  The fighting in One War is some of the little I have written that was not comedic.   I do not feel like I need to dwell on the horrors of war.  Anymore than I need to see animal rights horror movies.











The blood on my hands feel thick tonight, seems to cover everything I touch, drips from wounds on everyone around me....  they walk past me in the warehouse, looking down many of them, afraid of my eyes.  The myth of blood flowing from my eyes has been countered by government radio and tv, telling the world they have proof I am using lazars, though they are not believed.  I am ambiguous when asked, and find the metaphor of blood coming from eyes too attractive to not want the thought helping create the belief system of my soldiers.   I may be invincible against all except God, though I do not count on this, they do.   I know in their smaller numbers, and with the losses we have already taken, that they need heart.   Everyone will be on our side when they understand the threat, or they will try to throw themselves on the mercy of the government, which has not worked out too well for those who tried, not that you would know as much from the constant tv broadcasts said to be from the FEMA camp.    Pools, and shiny, happy people all around them, enjoying even their pets... nothing like what I had seen on my way out of Chicago.

With my broadcasts and their use of the media, tv and music, we are sparring for the people's perception of the truth thru the media.  We have left a series of high powered radio stations they cannot bloke, and internet feed reaching most of the world, and ham radios.  We have been broadcasting on everything available.  ISIS has been shown for what they are now, and there have even been a small number of congressional voices saying the same.  I saw this ploy for what it was, giving the people hope in a system that was broke.  Another slight of hand.  They would not stop ISIS.   We stop ISIS or the corporate Elites take the continent, and begin ruling as they will, creating fiefdoms surrounded by a select number of serfs, chosen for their personalities, looks, passivity, etc...

God placed me as the head of a secret family on Earth.  I did not know, during my period of learning about a time, and the human advancements since my last birth, when I do not have but the barest glimpses into what I am, they did not tell me.  They were waiting for the  Christ to wake up on his own and do all those bible things, only this time for the corporations, a deity they planned on tricking.  Of course that was the Christ they sought to create in my mind through brainwashing, three days I do not remember, which changed an agnostic who could not think of religion without hatred and a sneer, to a man writing the words of a God, in a poetic voice that was not the man I had been.  The irony is God put me in the place of the 'angel' they were going to brainwash.  I believe others may have grown wings as well, though I have no proof... or even proof that I did, besides a couple scars beside my shoulder blades, and the word of the world, the belief of popes and presidents and the hundreds and millions who followed me over a webcam, and cameras all over the neighborhood, that I thought were being leaked thru spies to the media, which was always quoting me, using my stuff in shows, etc.... part operation Bluebeam, part my own people.  Though back then Ii was very ignorant as to what was going on around me.

The brainwashing was only supposed to make so moral....   still someone who could be bought.  I could not be bought though...  or tempted enough to give into the gorgeous actresses they made clear were mine for the asking.   I did not know why they seemed to ignore that I was with M, a woman I had been living with for ten years.  I guess a lot of them knew she was a Russian spy and figured since she had played me for fifteen years, that  I would toss her aside.   Without her, I would have had people trying to kill me.   She thought she was saving her ass by going to different opposition groups, they tell me.... I do not know what all she did and like a good spy she will never tell me.   I expect now everyone from my past as being a set up,  Not all them are, not all of them started out to be...  most are.  Everyone  I have gotten to know enough to hang out with were spies, people designed for me to like them, who would make the phone calls that I often forgot about with friends, get me out doing things, selling me drugs, making sure I had housing in the rough patches.  

They shut us down one night.  All the radios and internet and...  I knew they would try that, obviously.  We sent missiles from subs into Philadelphia every hour on the hour until they put us back on.   I have found in this war I am dealing with psychopaths who do not care about the human lives we take, merely the property we destroy.  They thought they would have an easy fight, the Elite, as I call our enemy.  They are a group of bankers, Zionists, large corporations, ancient monarchies both overt and covert -- mostly too involved with crime to let anyone know about them. Families that live with their ancient secrets, ancient wealth, and only tell those who they are going to need what they are doing.  After ceremonies and sworn oaths and the firm, unveering knowledge that if they speak about their lives to anyone, they die.  Slow, brutal, an example.


I showed my writing about the events to a writer, for a tv show that used to be one, SUPERNATURAL.  We worked together, though I did not believe the messages they were telling me for quite sometime.  The webcam was sit up in my living room, with one from the tv and the other over my shoulder so what I was typing could be seen in real time.  Another was in the kitchen, and a third in the bathroom.   I had no choice except to live on camera, had no idea why suddenly, after a lull in all intelligence bullshit I went thru while sabotaging the one world government they wanted to use me to establish, with operation BLUEBEAM's JESUS creating an unstoppable religion, leading to a one world government.   I trusted myself to run a one world government, I did not trust anyone else, at all.   I am more than a human, an alien at the very least.  That is one way to see me.  We travel by soul however, not the slow, ridiculous, material methods human's have so much lauded themselves over inventing. 

My planet is the closest to God's face for a reason, I was chosen from amongst my kind to be a different creature, a combination of molecules that would be THE SON OF GOD.    He created me... as the first among many.  The Hand of God.  This made me no better than the lowest, lyingist, drunk puking in a gutter unknown to all but a few who do not care for him at all.  No better.  Different.  That is all.  Thinking you are better than certain people is how human kind is raised.  Those who are pointed at as the problem in society, you believe, and those who are pointed at as heroes, you believe.
It amuses me.  I see the toddler in space aspect of humanity, which is my eye alones.   You cannot imagine what it is to be me.   I try to imagine what it was like for all the people watching me on the webcam, believing this is a God would act toward them... when I saw the bugs as this hated necessity, where the threats to my life and the world had to be fought with harsh words.   I was always pissed that my life was being used in a way I did not understand.  People kept waiting for me to do something the last time I was televised.  They surrendered to me than tried to believe that I gave orders secretly by putting out stuffed animals, or something.    They dressed not for their own warmth or cooling or situation, they dressed to show their affiliation to the groups  that had gathered.

I CALLED THEM OUT IN OH SEVEN.  When I wrote that I would accept everyone into my army and like the French foreign legion all past crimes would be absolved.   A criminal element, necessary to the operational objectives of those around me, who had a lot of this set up long before I was out of grade school. became a backbone to my revolution that I did not realize was there.   They told me I had taken over the world.  Kept flashing on the television that Chicago had won the world.... then they began to ask me what to do, watched me all of the time, for the first time, started then.   This went seriously wrong for them when I refused all the money they offered me, and the life of luxury, because this was money made from war, blood money, and though I was not sure who all had died, I wanted nothing to do with it.   I was famous and believed I could use this later to make a living, that my books would sell, etc....   still thinking like what they used to call Sheep on the internet.  I made clear one night when John Stewart and others began talking about my stage name, Johnny Pain, and talking about me...  that I did not want that kind of fame.  Or I thought I did.   I remember telling them they were going to get me killed.   They coded better what they said about me on tv, but kept talking about me.  THE CHRIST WAS BACK many believed, and others were fighting me, telling people not to listen to this man some called a God Emperor, a thought that had never entered my head... and I at the time did not believe that could be connected to me, and at the time did not comment, just ran from the thought that I knew...  a man dressed all in black walked into the Colorado state building with an ak forty seven, fired off a few rounds, then declared, THE EMPEROR WANTS COLORADO... and they shot him down.  He walked in knowing he would die.

I did not want Colorado.   I did not know... or I would have stopped that.  Also, the decisions made seemed so different from my own that I thought I was watching the doings of others, that only vaguely seemed to have something to do with me.   Back then, too many of words were taken as written in scripture, and my life is nothing to watch...  I am here to bring words, not sit on a stage doing something boring like typing while someone watches.   People had an idea I wanted an audience.  The kind of people who believed the webcam was some brilliant idea on my part to wage a revolution, the first which failed when they were calling me a monkey, and then the second which won, for awhile.   Now, we had to come together again, and this time no one doubted we were fighting a defense.   They had been on the offense, some secret groups, for hundreds of years working with and against each other, all sorts of levels of spies for every country in the world, and the secret families, criminal or not know as criminal and criminal enough to survive in that world.

I learned on earth people live in all kinds of different worlds, created by their minds, that have nothing to do with their environment.  Two people come to different conclusions about the same events all the time, depending on the context of their personality.

In this way they are no different than the any number  of the planets I have been to.  Time is very long and I am very old.  Older than you can begin to imagine with a human mind, old enough to be beyond what you call time altogether.  What is time to an immortal?   Why would one count it?  I mean, counting is part of this construct of molecules, that is all.  Were I not trapped within the rules I have on myself for being in flesh, I would do that which in spirit I know is wrong.  I have a difficult time explaining this but I am here and I am also above this planet with the souls, greeting the new arrivals, creating temporary hells for some with a last lesson to be learned before completion;   sometimes I think with this flesh, and sometimes I think with the creature larger than this planet.  Size wise I am the largest creature in space.  I would not fit in flesh.   The human mind, no more than the cat or the roach, is equipped for this, or meant for this....  attempts are foolish.  Brains are organs that provide survival techniques beyond claws and fangs.   That is their purpose.  They obviously do other things, but they were not designed for humans to understand what is happening to them... the material space of a brain is not equipped for this kind of knowledge.  The brain would overload, shut down.   Life empty of all meaning, when compared to the spirit being one is, under the flesh.

The survival instinct is important, imbedded in flesh to keep the mortal soul from knowing it is trapped in a torture chamber, compared to being clear, aware, near nothingness in space, warm and curious and knowing all turns out to have been the creation of a God of love who you can feel, and you are pulled toward, past the other planets, stars....  a journey where the love and euphoria grows as you near His Face...  Then... there is suspension, in Golden Rays, before the great stones surrounded by green onyx, that God chooses to give us as his center.  I have said many times, souls become still here.  Some embedded for eternity in the ecstasy of the Father.   I have never done this.  We lived close enough to feel Him all the time, the first creation of this vast work of art.  We traveled in soul all over His creation, watched it unfold from the start, a glorious honor that embedded in one trust and love and marvel at the Creator.  We had nothing to question.   We had everything to ask and he answered us directly.  

Then I changed.  Changed.   I did not want to destroy a planet, even though I could see the horrible future they were headed into, and gathering the souls before they underwent any more trauma, souls that would welcome the relief, as all do.  In the timeless place the end had already happened and their beginning was happening as well in an unending loop....  I put bandages on arteries my entire lives among the creatures who grew to dominate on this planet, which is a natural reaction in a planet's evolution, not unique to earth. I loved a woman and wanted to stay with our children longer, I wanted to save these people....  never before had I done more than pity the creatures for being alive after I became myself.  This time I asked God for ability to do what I saw could be done to prevent the horrors of an ending, and give them ten thousand years of peace.  This instantly became a splinter in the place without time, where the events of one time line were going off from another, and my question was answered by my fighting my way to the top of the power structure of that planet, saving them from the usual slave holders and fearful, pitied wealth hoarders.  The laws of nature, survival of the fittest, etc.. a motive of many planets, though not all.   Before I went to any planet and accepted this...

My question amused my Father, who I had grown up talking to in my mind, a trusted, funny friend, who would always be there for me, whose love meant ... everything.  A gift, the proof of LOVE.  We glimpse love in the flesh, and some become addicted to the physical aspects, others the emotional..  this is God, the pain is of the flesh.   I do not know why we go thru this, unless it is some of you will understand this thing called life, before you become  a completed soul...  I have experienced old souls and young souls, in a way...   I do not make that much of this, other than new souls are very impressionable, I seem to think, though I could be wrong.  The number of people being born now is higher than all the people who have ever lived on this planet.   You could take from this that most souls will be new souls now, because they could not have lived a life, they are all taken.   I suppose you could say they can be grass instead, which sounds really good to me sometimes... amazing how I remember briefly being a front lawn.  I have been everything.   I can be many places at the same time in soul, too many for this conscious me to bother worrying about.  This is the interpreter speaking for a creature to whom you do not share a common language, another reason I am in flesh.

Perhaps that is what I am,  the interpreter between human languages and God?   The bit of God a Son knows.   There is a reason God is the center of all religions, and other organizations running a countless gamut and including the secular. 

Now I go to planets not knowing how they will end, more concerned with how they will live, a creature who attempts to take care of the sentient who call out to God.   Not all creatures need a Christ.   Some die unobserved.   Those from my planet, the soul travelers, do not spend all of their time watching the ends of planets.  They have so much to see...  

I became different because of my question to God, can I save them?   Can I interrupt what you have me here for, and try something else, maybe foolish and useless in the long run, but time enough to save my family, give them a life....  Fight their pain.


That set the pattern.  Occasionally I win, usually I lose.  BANG.  Goes the planet... a dust cloud appears that will linger for a million million years. 

My Supernatural friend, from the tv show, tells me that I am not answering the questions people want to hear from the Son of God.  I am telling them about my life, writing about Revolution, instead of speaking to those who want to know the great WHYS?  The instant cited had the character, Chuck, who they used as me as God, rather the one almighty in their world, not the son...  they kept having him say things I do and write, gave me all the hints.  They had informing me of blood being spilled by my words, that I had tried to bring together people who would not work for the greater good and they were ruining my revolt...  tried to tell me, when I first heard of the deaths and could barely function, by putting my words in the mouth of an Angel who was refusing to fight when he was needed, and I owe them a great debt.   In the episode about Chuck -- the one like  I who just told people to call me Scott, nothing special... etc...   they have him answer questions and his editor likes his work better.    Instead of the book he was writing, REVOLUTION...  as I presently am. And was when this aired... before the invasion.   Chuck in the episode answered why he did not answer prayers and other clever questions.

This brings me back to the problem of which side of the mirror one is on.  I do not see myself as something special, or at least I have no value judgements attached to being special...  I do not understand how other people look at me.   What has been done in my name,  I WOULD NEVER do in the name of another, such as jumping off of tall buildings...  I heard this reported on the news and the number codes they had, like 40, kept coming up, women jumping off 40th floor windows, one going to great strides to break thru security and get to the floor in a building under construction.   I would hear these things and think how eerie and odd that this could somehow be associated with my people...  I wondered why they did this, without a clue, and had no idea that with a few words I could have stopped them.   Such horrors were endless when they finally told me what was happening with the webcam, and the people worshipping me from afar, like I was a tv star of a show who was also God...  I terrified the world, screaming at the bugs in the room... there was a month after I found out about the killings that I was excited to see certain people were still alive, and I actually bowed to them when they came on my tv, which they could see thru the webcams....  Just happy they were alive.'

A month later, I swore to never bow to another human.   I will nod my head and hold my hands together in the eastern way and acknowledge another person with humility, though this is not a bow to me, but an equal handshake of the minds.  I went from horrified by the death to seeing much was still happening that needed battled, and I had to get back in the captain's chair.   I had been chosen by people I did not understand to lead them, and they were waiting for me to do so back then, when  I still did not know enough.... the vow to the flesh, I basically only know what I learn.  Humans keep things from me and it hurts them, my father smacks them around, and thousands die.  I wait until they figure out that I am here to help, not harm, though I am willing to do all the damage I need to be helpful to as many as possible, instead of a select few.    People are always trying to claim me for their religion alone, the soul that comes back again and again in human form and is sometimes needed to start a religion, to come prepared with miracles and grace.  This time I told you I was coming back not for peace, I was bringing my sword.  I have kept my promise without trying to ,


What questions would  I have if I was a human?

Hard to imagine seeing me.   I have been looked at worshipfully, looked at with hope... with terror.  Tears and laughter, stories cold and distant, warm and tender...  of ancient blood writes and the love of a creature I called Eve.  How does an air conditioner repair person look at themselves, as someone who does a job, has a wife and family, etc...  to me this is me.  I am much more, but to me....  I am not impressive;   I have seen the face of God, that which humbles all and makes the mightiest minute..   I would not presume to know as he knows.  There is no need for two.  Everything is based on need in God's world, though not so you always know it, on such a piss ant view we have from the eyes of a body.   Even in soul...  I do not even like imagining being my father...  I am enough of Him to begin to see the planets swirling around me in space, seemingly going fast as hell in their orbits, mere blurs shooting around suns, and then suns in huge orbits that become blurs.... God the Father has all in view at all time.   The Son OF God would be unable to function with such distractions...  I floated in them for awhile when this first started, allowed the visions to take me all over the mult universes, into the past and future of the plant, even into my own true image...   images, more correctly, my fearsome view as a spirit of a size great enough earth's universe is minute in comparison, nothing ...  and will one day be a smoldering rock that I will forget.


We have set up a line of defense in the Mountains of Appalachia,  trying to stop ISIS march across the middle of the country;   they have begun using chemical welfare in their wake, taking whatever goods they can at gunpoint, replenishing the slaves they work together at labor and in brothels, then march out, sending back in planes with a disease we identified long ago, 87HB.    Our inside people have given us the vaccine, and we are ready in the areas where our people are concentrated.   I have labs all over the country pumping out as much as possible.   We can spray cities, too, if we have to.  Not all of them trust us, nor should they.  The last round of rebellion the  USA saw ended badly, and they lost everything, some.  Child soldiers were everywhere, undisciplined and led by people with agenda's quite different than my own.

I am in a canvas tent, lit by lamps that leave shadows in the yellow corners of the room.  The map is lit from above, and we can see the enemy, their concentration.  We have been able to get tracking devices into their vehicles, sewn into their clothes, even the animals they kept for food.  Having the civilians entirely on our side now, practically, was not something the Elite ever imagined they would have to fight.   They expected that the usa would lay down and surrender to a force their military could not handle, so they were told...  the military was in disarray at the moment, ships firing on one another, wasting ammunition and lives as a few still fought for the elite, though most had seen the footage from the states, what had happened to their home and kin, and knew their government was using high paid merc's for a job they would not have done.

We have the figures out how many citizens have been lost in front of us.   I intentionally do not open to the page listing the deaths from the sprayings, the battles, the trains they are running around the country using to disable working cities, taking out the hospitals, schools, the police...  the basic tactics of guerilla warfare.   We used them ourselves to sow panic in towns they were keeping in holding patterns, waiting for soldiers to attack.   The news was telling them one thing, we would show up and tell them another, and they did not know who to believe. We had no time to argue, ended up killing innocent people to get the threat across, forcing entire towns into refugee status, half of them thinking we were going to gun them down, instead of save them.  Takes them weeks to calm down enough to eat and sleep when we take them to our camps, educate the on what is really happening, give them guns if they can hold them, and start their training or send them civilian camps where they can be cared for.

I keep trying to remind myself  to write this entry into my war diary, this book of the travails of the struggle between the son of Man and the Son of God that manifest whenever I take life.  I imagine my steering leads much to be desired by humynkind, and I am as hated as ever by some who think souls should start in heaven and stay there, basically.   I can only say that there is still and there is moving.  The moving end up feeling pain because this is how they survive.  The still give up pain like a morphine addict times too many numbers to bother.  To become still you live and die and develop on a cellular and a spiritual sense, perhaps?   I am not going to pretend to know why God does what God does.  His bit of vision He has passed unto me is enough to fulfill my mission, and anything more would be a waste.  God wastes nothing. Certainly not human beings.  When I returned and learned homosexuals and people of other religions and all who did not, basically, tithe the church monetarily or mentally, I was pretty pissed at first.   I wanted my Christianity to be worth more.  Christ was a being different than I am, a creature in his own right, and I hate what was done to the gentle man's words.  He did not know what would happen in the future, or He would not have been inspired, on wind drunk nights setting around a fire, holding each other tight in love and to stave off the cold winds, he spoke what he thought to be true, and of the miracles God had shown him to wake him up.  I do not feel like Jesus at all.  I give him his dues as the creature that this clay molded into that time, created by the human geography or a religion, landscape, level and proximity to culture, learning, trade routes... 

Now I am a creation for the end times, the Christ who fights the great war at the end of time, so to speak.... you will not experience time the same again once you are no longer trapped in flesh.




We fly in a helicopter that stops for gas and to pick up different supplies for the front twice.  We arrive mere hours before ISIS soldiers were going to march into the defensive wall we had been building for two years...  they knew about our latest movements, watched us from the new satellites they were launching almost daily, to replace the ones our weaponized satellites were taking down.  They were illegal, no war waging tools were to be sent into space, though of course every country had designed them, and those with the proper tech had sent killers into the sky, to take out enemy abilities to watch them during war.   Cannot have the army google updated every twelve hours.  Though to an extent this one is, which is why we went in early, and only let attention be drawn to us when  I wanted them to see.   The surprises they had no footage of....

The ambushes were as simple as pits with punji sticks, logs that cane swooping down a path.  Vietcong era traps.  Let them see the horror, let them underestimate what was to come.  We have cameras everywhere watching the action.   I have told my generals I want to be here to rally the soldiers, and see the action from up close, because they know better than I what to do in most respects, men and women sent by God to do the thinking I had no need to clutter my special mental functions with,,,  I have the gut military instincts of a creature who has been fighting in human wars since the beginning of their time, and follow them even when my head tells me the opposite reaction would bring me millions, and keep me out of danger... 

Flash bombs begin going off at the base of the mountain.  Our snipers, thru their high tech goggles, use the fading light to tear into the enemy soldiers who have been the first to cross the line we have decided begins our defense, about a hundred yards out from the base of the mountains where we were dug into, with bombs enough to turn the mountainside to bloody mud covered with body parts and abandoned weapons.   I  an really here not to observe, but as insurance.  I can use the laser's and sway the battle.  No one knows who I am at the front.   James is even disguised.  The pilot guessed but is not sure and knows his life is best preserved by not knowing, or he would have been told.   I will put him off the idea, or confirm what he has done at the end of the mission, depending on the people wo try to hide my movements from the enemy, which means assuming they have operatives all over our camp, as we do theirs.   In this war, there was almost no way for us to keep collaborators out of our ranks, or the civilians we were now protecting throughout the west.

The enemy backs off from the flashbombs and I again hear the crackle of the fire I am kneeling beside, smell the coffee brewing in the ancient looking pot I insisted on bringing, along with my own brew.  The only requirement I made during camping.  James always had weed if I wanted some so that was covered, the doctors gave me plenty of pills to dull the pains in my body and mind, so I can function without having to allow my feeling life to get in the way.  The part of me that is sane and loving and mourning is non stop, and I thank God science has come along enough that I do not have to be a wizard somewhere picking plants I eat to deal with knowing too much, seeing into the abyss and my smiling face looking back out at me...  liquor was the worst, like Christ used.. though there was weed smoking in those days as well.

They begin laying down machine gun fire, throwing grenades, then missiles, to clear a path through the booby traps, then begin to advance again;   we can see the outline of their heat, and snipers take them out, at least a third, as they once more send in expendables, probably local villagers, to check out our perimeter defenses.   I wish I could capture them and talk tot them instead of watch them die.  I tell myself they are all going to heaven, though that is the tiny conscious mind that hears, not the unconscious, where adding to the horror is adding to the horror and words matter not a bit...  offer no comfort at all.

They have placed all our snipers so they are all moved to new positions, behind tin that kept their heat signatures from being picked up.  I always think of the tin foil hat conspiracies, and how tin foil hats actually did do something, disrupted weaponry that was being developed to mentally and physically torture and influence and control individuals from afar.   Our enemy was using it in some places, creating hive minds for their soldiers, though this was rare.  The mercenaries had not signed on to be mind controlled puppets and fought the full effects, though the more subtle uses they never even noticed.   I had secured the tech before open warfare broke out, and the means to render it useless.   I did not want this Pandora's box opened, though I knew the enemy would go there... still, unless I am preserving free will, I am off mission.   Of course, if it comes down to win or lose I will have to ask the soldiers to let their bodies be controlled, to our abilities.  Plans were on the table to control all soldiers like drones from nice offices a thousand miles away, by guys who check in eight hours a day and eat in a cafeteria.  The blood spills and they smell the floor cleaner instead of shit and Sulphur.  

They are afraid to try to fight through our forces.   Not only are they at an extreme disadvantage, they were dealing with a man who had already almost destroyed the west coast, and turned the great lakes into a nuclear zone that was uninhabitable.   They know I have nukes at almost all of their nuclear facilities, which they had left as unguarded as their nukes, to professionals on the inside, where the revolution I was now fighting began, with the Ghosts, coming to me ready to sacrifice and believe everything, kill their own families and colleagues and then hand the gun to me as the final test.  Testing to see if I am a killer makes me smile now, dark and cynical and perhaps not so anyone around me would notice.   I send a message down the mountain, get on the phone with their field general...  he does not feign to be middle eastern.  I take him to be ex army special forces, probably mentally ill from his experiences -- as the opposition preferred in their puppet leadership, and very, very concerned about his own ass.  He does not believe this is his fight, has yet to understand, as most of the mercenaries had not, that though they hired on with the elite without giving a shit why, they had every intention to live through the experiences.  They would not take the chances, let alone send the suicide bombers, that my forces would not hesitate to do.  The enemy might convince some civilian to do this, to stop Isis or save their family or help Isis... very muddled now the tale the government thought they would get away with telling, under estimating the people, as they always did.

"I do not want a fight.  Keep your soldiers off of the mountain.  If you call in air support, tell your owners that I will level a nuclear power plant and send the radioactivity up into the sky, make a little acid rain on their parade."
"Thank you."

He is polite to me.  They are not known to take prisoners.  They are not sure how we are handling our prisoners, though they have heard good reports... and he has to consider this as a leader at the front -- sometimes it is best to surrender.   I have let then live because the government turned them around, made the public believe that the army fighting their Frankenstein army, was ISIS, when we were in fact fighting them.   I repeat that in this writing a few times, and may edit that out, or may leave it in -- like this sentence, which deconstructs the work, takes the narrator out of context...  The General Finch I spoke to has agreed to cease hostilities until their leadership hears my latest promise.  I used to threaten the world when they had the webcams set up in my house and I lived as a caged beast, mortified by what the world was allowed to see, from my bathroom to my bedroom, and oh how they used it all against me.

Mortified.  Nothing to stop me though.  I knew the mission was more important than how I FEEL, or how well I am liked -- I like to be liked, though when I am not I tend to lash out, and I did not know my words were loaded before...  but that the world watched a film of me masturbating and believed I wanted them to see me...  that it took to finally get enough people to turn away from me that their criticism could teach me.    I learn from my enemies more than my allies, or did back then.  They were willing to be honest.   The person they described who they thought I was...  I spent years fighting to reclaim my name.  I was nothing like they assumed, pretended, believed... my wants and needs nothing like they believed. 

With the truce in place they have no need of my defensive capabilities.  I order the pilot to swing far out around from the mountains, then head east, into the areas ISIS was slowly cleaning up, doing things the easy way...  to the areas where the government pretended they were the saviors on the front, funneling civilians into FEMA camps.   Desperate and hungry and wounded some still went to the camps, even after it became common knowledge they were gateways into slavery, their military, or chow.   Their soldiers thought we were sending out propaganda that they were being fed their enemies and allies flesh, ground up as hamburger, seasoned into sausage, bones used in soups.   I did not make as much of it as I could have, though I talked about it during one of my sermons, because nothing was going to stop the ghastly human slaughter houses, and reminding people their loved ones had gone through this seemed like heedlessly spreading pain, when I needed to balance mourning with encouraging people to do the heroic, make marches they never would have believed they could have, take on the government and actually win huge battles.  Tonight I would have to give another sermon, to tell them of our victory in the mountains...


The microphone is set up in a town outside of  Columbus, Ohio, in a police station, where a sympathetic blue, working with the state police, who had also come to our aide there after experiencing the mercenaries trying to genocide local law enforcement, assuming they would not attack and kill off their family and friends, as they had orders to achieve.  I smoked a bowl in a back bathroom with James, and one cop who smelled it on us asked if we could get him high, which James did.  They were all drinking beer.  They were coping the only way they could for now, and I encouraged them to move to pills sometime and they laughed...  they supplied me up with morphine and weed and all kinds of pills before I left later that night.    They gather around me in the station, anxious maybe like everyone, around the world, who would be hearing from epicenter of an event that could end the world...  fought by the first world wide voice of the people to ever arise with enough power to possibly take over the earth itself -- though I do not want that, I will do so for a few years if I must.  I have been careful so far to fight for sovereign countries, in an attempt to stop my enemy from having a one world government solidified.   As long as Russia and China had a champion to take on the  USA, a local boy who could not be called a traitor for accepting foreign assistance --  offered without attachment though I return as much respect as is possible.

I lean into the soft black cover of the microphone at the desk, wishing for a wireless...   'Good news, for a lot of you.   We have stopped the enemies at the mid west mountain range, as  I told you that I would.  A ceasefire in this area is being brokered.  To those who are in the east, I offer my condolences for what the ELITE army has done to your towns, your people, your minds, your country.  

"We cry your tears with you and hate with you and miss all you have loved with you.  Everyone is experiencing the shock of war, but you have suffered while we worked across the continent.   We have not abandoned you, and will retake ALL OF THIS CONTINENT!  For the time, gathering the large forces we need, and saving those we could in the Midwest after losing Chicago, and opening up the Levy plant's doorway to a radioactive hell.  We want you to try to make your way west, and avoid the FEMA camps unless you have the forces to take one, then rob their commissary, arsenal, and people.  Take anyone who is able with you, every hand that can hold a gun, no matter how young or old, maybe the ones that save all your asses in the end.  If you are one of the towns that has not been hit yet, we will have contacts sent, already have, probably there already...  who will provide logistics for your journey.   Not all of you will live, though if you it where you at , you will surely die.

When I first told the world about the genocide they had me working on, I was not believed.    Knew the world would come around to understanding the truth, just worried that it was too late.   They were going to send planes down through your small towns and cities, past your isolated houses, etc...  for three or four days, a disease that takes a few more days to cause symptoms... then the world was going to fall over dead.   The elite and a few of their valuable minions would have hid in DUMBS.  Now we have seen cities where this tactic has been used in the east, and cities are dying.   We have the antidote secured all over the east coast and the state leading back to where we are.  We had to be prepared for the enemy to attempt a first strike.   They may try another disease later, by the Grace of God we will destroy them first.

As you all know, I will make the USA unlivable if we lose.   I will not turn over all these gifts from God to demons, which whether you believe or not, the metaphor alone stands.   We are presently in an occupied state, where I have been administering to the wounded, helping to inspire these soldiers we are forming up, offering my sympathy and delivering guns... ha.   We are also giving out to trusted folk where the antidote is located.  You are going to have to figure that you have spies among you, and they will be trying to destroy this vaccine, so keep four guards on it and the location, at least, at all times, each prepared to shoot the other in case of attempted sabotage.   In fact, best we put shock collars on the guards as well, and monitor them from undisclosed locations on body cams.  They have no other way to fight us now, we are going to stop this disease with as few casualties as possible.  If there are elderly around you, or you know of the packs of children who have been secreted away, I urge you to offer them material and psychological aide.   I have been told I need to preach more of the scripture, not these material matters... but when you are hungry as all hell and about to faint from a gunshot wound, I think we are bit beyond the comforting words of  God.  Still, I wish to preach of a vision I had, of a world with just a few mega cities, huge structures, self-sustaining, humanity preserved and pulling back from nature to allow the planet to heal.  Humans who see themselves as creatures in an ecosphere, who see themselves with the humility of KNOWING they are but one element in larger creature, where they can turn cancer or savior... which is why they are born saviors, as humans are.  They have been influenced by me, and I am influenced by the Father, and he is INFLUENCE.  I still feel the people hearing this who once watched me in my apartment, believing I was giving advice through signals that I was not.  I am very much a what you see is what you get kind of guy at times, with certain sides of myself, though of course others lurk alone and unseen to others eyes, or beyond their mental abilities to interpret.  I did not know what to do back than, because I had never been allowed to see the world.   I was like the Prince Buddha, a young man not yet realized who had been raised with life's horrors hidden from him, walled off away from the palace of delight and beauty he was raised within.     For years into my involvement, and certainly when you saw me on the infernal webcam, I did not know this was going to happen. 


We are surrounded.  They brought the helicopter down with a ground to air missile, fired from a local militia who thought we were ISIS.  As soon as we came on fire,  I had the pilot go low and begin waving a white flag, then landing.   I could tell they were not government soldiers, and we were really in no danger;  with my eyes I had only to glance at them and light thru them, cutting, burning so hot the wound cauterizes as death passes thru their flesh.  I get out and open my hood, yelling, WE ARE NOT YOUR ENEMY.   WE ARE PART OF THE RESISTANCE.  I AM.  THE ONE YOU HAVE HEARD ON THE RADIO.   A party of them begins advancing on us, warily, having heard the stories about how blood shot from eyes, holy blood that burned on the evil hotter than any holy water on a demon in a bad horror flick.  They had to have been listening the night before when I announced I was in the east.

The leader they have sent is in his mid twenties, a veteran, like most of the resistance everywhere.  "We heard you talking last night.  It that was you.  Lot of spies... and, we grew up together almost here.   No infiltrator's.  Got our families. Prove who you are, tell us where to dig up a vaccine around here."
"Sure, let me get on the chopper's radio.  I'll get the co-ordinates from our locals in the area, set you up with them too, if you want.  We can reup your supplies, give you a place you can be safe, to head for.  You'll have to fight your way there.  Unless we can send someone back for you."

I walk back to the helicopter.  On the edge of the cornfield we have landed in is in  a wooden area they have been camping out in, using trailers and rv's, like most of the resistance.  The people have heard that I am here, and whether they believe I am the son of God or man, they know I have been saving people in the west, and they had prayed I would come to them...  if they were believers, their prayers had been answered.  If not...  a revolutionary leader had arrived.  A man with the backing of two of the big three, Russia and China...  Either view was fine by me.  Of course there might be others, who would hate me for what soldiers holding my flag had done without my knowledge, inspired though by my words... and as they asked me during my interrogation, when the scope of what my writing had helped inspire was becoming clearer to me -- though to this day I intentionally keep it slightly out of focus with an extreme effort, as  I do so much I have to compartmentalize away to keep from allowing the morning to drown me in thick, gray, unbreathable air.  

I tell them where to go and they dispatch soldiers.  The vaccine is close to one of their men.   I advise them not to contact anyone, that they should guard the knowledge I had just given them as if it were their life because.....  well, they were willing to listen to me, to anyone.  Like most all they had now were two voices in the wilderness, mine and the elite, who used their bevy of movie stars and recognizable media personalities disguised as people informed by experts to spread their narrative, which was shattered by the reality of what was happening every time ISIS attacked a town, and the façade they were anything more than mercenaries for the elite, heartlessly killing and raping and stealing their way through...  afraid of the FEMA camps, afraid of ISIS... there was only us.   They had tried to call us the army of Christ, though I nixed that idea, have to be inclusive than that, who I am let alone what they believe I am was not the point of our forces, I ended up asking they use the name The Unknown.   This is mystical enough, vague enough, and common enough words to make them more difficult to track from idle conversations on phones, etc....

"When did they come thru here?"
"Ten days.  We were out here.  We're wearing clothes that doesn't allow them to get a heat sig on us.  We were prepared for...  something.  They are worse than the propaganda.   I guess you know all that and more.   Come on back in the woods, get that helicopter up nearer the trees, we';ll throw some tarps over it with camo patterns.   We'd sure as hell like to hear a little more about what the hell is happening out there."
"They know I am over here. The sooner we leave the safer you will be.   We can take a few of you out, if you want.  Leaders who can co-ordinate your passage to the west.  That will make sure you have someone pushing for planes to get you, if we can.  How many of ya?"
He stops and looks at me wondering if I am lying. 'You really think you can get a plane in here to get us out?"
"I think while you are slogging your asses west it is better have some hope... because you are going to see some shit, might get captured.... but you'll at least have hope.  I would promise this, but I can't.  I won't lie to you.   I do not order men to their deaths, and if coming after you is fruitless... that does not mean we are leaving you out here to die.   My presence, the vaccines, prove my point."
"Go on, then."
"I want to get the co-ordinates to you of the vaccine stashes for the surrounding towns.   I have someone on their way here now,  You can trust her.   I don't know what name she is going to introduce herself by.  Just heard her voice on the radio.  The elite are listening as well.  We came in with ammo, but that's all gone.  The contact we sent you will get you a reup on ammo and supplies.  I want you to know this ain't about religion, this is about stopping a fascist grab at power, planet wide.'

"We weren't sure you weren't just the government, playing both sides, once we knew... about this ISIS shit."
"Yes, I have been hearing their reports making us out to be Isis now... people believing that?"
"No, they think you're all in cahoots."
"I don't...  well, they will find out the truth in time.   You send people with me, three, and their whole families.  Twelve, we can fit.  We need soldiers, but I'm not going to ask them to leave their families, or I would say women and children first.  Don't leave yourself unprotected."
My last words effect him hard.  He was considering coming and now was thinking his people were better off with him. 
"You the leader, here?"
"My dad, didn't want to send him out, risk..."
"Yea.   We could use you if you want..."
"You need soldiers.   I would like to... get my family out.  Got a son, born when I was oversea's.  Sure as hell glad I got back before this shit... "
I can see in his eyes the dead coming back for a minute, grabbing at him, asking him why they died... his perception, not truth.   "You will have a better chance finding a pilot willing to fly out here...  I will be someplace else the next day, we'll lose touch.  Just being honest.   They won't make it thru the army up ahead, not right now.  Maybe later.  We can get them coded radio messages about which way to navigate, or stay place... which you ... well, we can at least warn you if they are coming at ya, and the time has come to run."
"What's gonna happen to most of the people... or what happened to them.... is it like your saying on the radio... or is that, some of it, propaganda?"
"I don't have to lie about our enemy."
"What about you?  Folks around here believed in you for awhile, then...   I know you didn't understand what was happening..."  He doesn't sound too sure of this, though I can't bother to confront everyone on this anymore, which is part of what this book is about.

"I seem to have some peculiar powers.  I ... have these visions, and what they mean is not always clear to me.  But whatever I am, men will win this war.  The shit I can do..  I don't want to.  That could be my religion.  They brainwashed me, so take that into consideration.  Know I can kill with beams from my eyes, which they say is blood.  I know that this war has to be won to save most of humanity, mostly, and that is all I care people believe me about.   I would rather people question who I am than worship me.  Though I AM.  A lot of powerful people know...   were you involved in the revolution in 07?" 
Others have walked up as we talked, including an older man who looks like the kid Ii am talking to, and two men and three women, four children, including a baby.  He tells me they found out about what happened from the radio broadcasts, though they noticed something was wrong at the time...  "We need to leave.  Now.   We'll also leave you with a walkie talkie that only our contact has a match.  It is preset to a channel they haven't found, probably won't.   If you have to use it, keep it shot.  Under attack will be enough, then we will know where you are, etc... maybe which way you are going."


We fly up and I watch them ambling back out into the woods...   a few are just stopped looking up at us.  A young girl crosses herself and begins to cry.  Her soul seems to flare and I know belief in God has been born anew in her....









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