LINEAR TIME -- needs to be changed into scenes, instead of descriptions....

I do not live in linear time, though the illusion is strong enough that I emotionally react to the 'presence' around me;  that tiny point in time, soon enough more than likely to be forgotten, as most days are in ones life.  

There is no more fighting tonight.   Most of the east coast is gone.  East of Indiana is .  .  .   gone.  From Florida up into Canada a few hundred miles.   My control over the lava flow was minimal.  I wondered if He was going to have me end the planet, though the lightening that would have signaled that blast never came.   Like the first and only time I tried to draw lightening out of a blue sky, I stopped the event as soon as it started... still, the lava reached out from the west coast, creating a new land mass that left New York hundreds of miles in shore.   Everything not deep underground was dead.  The DEEP UNDERGROUND MILITARY BASIS, called, appropriately enough it turns out, DUMBS... for short.  The lava burnt down into their holes and melted them all in some places, others the lava used to get to the surface...  drawn by the God on the surface, destroying the prison... letting the prisoners free.

I told you I am here to free the slaves.  You are slaves to life on this planet, trapped in an endlessly seeming cycle, that of course, like all things, comes to an end.  Your scientists agree with me, or I would be preaching of other things... and my visions all agree with me, no matter how much I have denied them in my sermons to reassure the flock that other ends might come.. and they might.  I do not know and will fight for a peace that last for the rest of life on earth.

I know how to do this, the extremes I would have to go to, why I would need a continent separated by great oceans, so some could watch  modern war and decide based on what they see if they wish to challenge me.   Me.  Not my armies.   They are for show, in a way...  and to save lives.  Any battles they can win by conventional means leaves the destruction inside me, waiting, anxious to be released...  an anger at what humans have done to this planet I dubbed Eden long before humans were created.  This I would use on the last day, not love of the souls being released, but hatred for what their flesh did while under the influence of my father's plan, how souls are born...  none of the process ever makes sense to me.  I am one of the few beings would question Him at all.  You never will again when you are a soul being drawn by the gravity of his love past the creations of the cosmos with a curiosity coupled with a warming peace.

The other soldiers cannot sleep after what they have seen, some are questioning in their minds if they should try and kill me, after what they have seen.  They are panicking.   The enemy has seen what will happen if they kill me, I will do in soul what I started in flesh -- no difference to me.  Though they will not succeed.  I will be the last soul on this planet, as I always am.  Standing here in a circle of fire, surrounding the spot where I stay in my flesh even as the fires around me and grow until the sky above the sanctuary of my flesh is a small dot of blue above me.  My survival instinct, which contrary to my actions in stronger than most, and I do not like dying.  Another sacrifice for the mission;   I do not like the idea of forgetting this earth, filing it away as something  I need to forget to concentrate on the next mission, to be anew, to live as another creature that will be the catalyst for the destruction of a planet.  Pretty much.   Industrialization and greed and the constant war of man versus nature is driven deep into your psych for a reason.  You win that war in the end, a pyric victory..


Like my enemies here on earth.  Predators set loose on the entire human race, feeling the power that comes from living with the protection of secret societies and owned law enforcement and criminals alike...  the last of those to give up on the working class were not the criminals, they accepted terms quick, kept vegas open during the worst of the war... and were encouraged by us, thanked for providing a distraction, and telling they would be rewarded.   We have stopped them from the genocide they thought would be over in ten weeks...    I warned them I had powers I did not want to use and they decided to call my bluff, and I played my cards and tens of millions died, instantly, frozen in the lava in the middle of dinner, watching a baseball game.  Future archaeologists would find the planet interesting, like they did all those he left behind.    Most died of their own accord.     Choosing which planet he would go to was based on where the most pain  resided.

Before the war, when once more my ignorance left my people in danger, I did not realize who supplied the power that ran the warship I was helping to command...  I wanted to test how much power I had, do something I had wanted to since learning they used me, did things in my name that I would not have gone along with....   I was about to given power over the usa in a way -- the people who actually made the decisions were about to be in power...  I blew it by telling them to attack a group of powerful criminals, who were stronger than I am.   And were in fact pillars in the house of my power.\

I had a bad habit back then of thinking of law and order as black and white, but in times of war they are not, they are either your ally or you enemy, and these go in varying in degrees...  working together where our interests collide...   making sure we keep the peace, unless an enemy needs destroyed, then counting on your allies to help or stay out of the way.  I was counting on humans to fight the war back then, win independence for the USA, and then use this army to make the world a better place for all to live, not attack countries.

We could have been stopping Boko Harem and the world would applause, though a war for justice is not our style anymore, does not add money to the oil companies, has no benefit for Israel's plans in the middle east and spreading a classic controlled government that calls itself independent.

I think these thoughts until I fall asleep, then wake in a few hours and there is the train, waiting for me to get back on, continue the mission planning in my mind, the only thing that I can change about my situation.  This could be the day the souls are finally released, the prison doors torn off their hinges,,,   or just another fight day waiting for Europe to respond.  They have seen me stand beside nuclear bombs exploding, and be in the same pose, my hands crossed in front of my chest, waiting for the test to be over so I can get on to other things.   I knew you would try it so I went out as far from humanity as possible and let you try.  I knew you would.   I wondered if you would fire more than one, thinking the second blast of radioactivity into the atmosphere would make a difference, and was pleased you were intelligent and organized enough not to be that idiotic.


They bring me coffee when the officer comes in to wake me up.   I thank him.

"Last night, you scared the hell out of the world.  They don't know whether to gather against you or give up."
"I gave them good terms, they will come under our laws, such as they are...  they already have the pedophilia on the books, we are just going enforce it more strongly, force them to live under 24/7 surveillance for life."
"They are not bitching about that, and you know it."

Bash sits down on a beige rocker recliner, leans back, sits his own coffee down.   I get off my cot, pull fatigues over my long underwear.  Grab my heavy boots...  "Sovereignty is over rated.  I have to save the planet, in case  .  . ."
"You can't think about what He will do.  You are his hand."
"Yeah."  Bash knows most everything about me.  He started as my assistant to help me keep appointments, tell me where I was half the time.  I have told him of my struggle with knowing, sooner or later, I was going to kill off this planet...  and the only reason I was fighting was for a few vague lines in the bible, and other religions, that talked of a thousand years of peace.  Others said ten thousand.   Souls raised in peace...  lives lived knowing God exists, survivors of the Holy War.  This has happened on other planets, too many to remember, I know... I think often of how I will forget earth in a way after this happens while at the same time every bit of it's history from rocks pulled together by gravity to asteroids planting life, to seas of life, to...  while at the same time being aware of every leaf that ever fell.  In my find being born, living and dying and become dirt and the molecules moving into another tree and...   the human mind I have is not equipped to do more than take from my memories on a need to know basis.

"How are our people takin this?  You are emphasizing on the telecasts that the FEMA camps had done their job, and no one was left except enemy and collaborators...  pretty much.  I am sure...  you know, the hold outs are gone, too...  the nature I don't want to think about, either... though that will come back, can be worked with.... etc.   They needed to see what I can do alone, as did our people."
"You gave them faith.  They think too much of you, you know?   I should tell them how long you go between showers...  yeah, yeah, you do not smell, I know.  But you're not the sacred figure..."
"They learned that when they tried filming, which is always going to piss me off.   I wish I had known why they were broadcasting...   too many regrets to even go there.  God befuddles people.  There is a line in the bible I found about it, and He always leads me to what  I need at a particular time.  Like when I heard the women following me could not get pregnant, I walked over to the bible and opened it to that line.  Women will go barren in the end time.  Anyways, today we just wait.  We work on moving people around, etc...   I want there to be an upcoming elections, no lawyers are allowed to run.  I want scientists, teachers, etc..  no personality, no speech maker...  just someone we trust to do the best for the people.  I want those who are made candidates, to then discuss who should lead, and be a committee.  That will give the people a sense of continuity they lost when the government turned on them."

Bash follows me out of the tent, no larger than the rest of the soldiers.   The camp is large enough there are signs designating the lines of tents, directions to latrines and the mess, and...   We have had soldiers on this front since the war split the continent.   We are on the side of a mountain, the tents in a meadow, and then leading up into the trees.   The best security I can have is to just live like everyone else, and the soldiers respect me more.  Proves to them I will not ask them to live a certain way.  Others, the wounded, the families, etc...  had the buildings, military issue temporary housing. 

We have the states.  Now the world.  The religion building around me is a concern.  The Father is the basis for all religions, and I do not want the conflicts that would come around from choosing one.  They would fight, they would...  my God is bigger than yours...  I never could stand that way of thinking, though memories of lives using God to drive soldiers in battle flood me at the thought.  Different times.  Thank God.

I like to go back and re write scenes from memory, which often adds something... then go back to the original and see what prose is better.

In this exercise, I am going to re write the first chapter.  This will also tell me which parts of the prose were MEMORIBLE.  At Columbia College of Chicago, where I really learned to write with beginnings and middles and ends, recognizable short stories.  No more blathering prose for me, short story after short story blazed out of me using their method, and the others that has attached themselves like algae to my style of writing.  


    I am the most wanted man in the world, thought to be hiding in exotic isles around the world, a vile creature described in the MSM as a terrorist.  Instead I had stayed where I started, Chicago, Illinois.   The Oligarchy raising the Stars and Stripes were using mercenaries, and foreign troops to march across the states and destroy the rising resistance.   They took the citizens by surprise.  Took them from going to work to home to worrying about bills and kids to hearing they were in the middle of a war zone, that an army of crazed, religious killers was flooding into suburbia, and the cities on the East Coast...   I helped get together the opposition, after working in intelligence before the plan was implemented and being among the few who were prepared.

Standing in line to get registered in a FEMA camp I have ID that describes me as a shopkeeper.  I have gained fifty pounds, cut off the long hair, the beard, looked nothing like Johnny Pain, the comedy writer who turned on the CIA after hearing plans of genocide against seven billion people.  He had no idea the resistance was as powerful as they were, and learned when they came in to protect him, armed guards, Communists from Africa...    I loved the Irony of watching the search for me and hearing of the sightings all over the world.  As I sat in a garden apartment eating rich foods and loving every pie and cake and pizza and...  Only one man knew where I was, James, a friend, and a reluctant spy, as I have always been.   Tonight, I would be broken out of the FEMA hut and taken to a meeting on the southside, which the government had yet to take control of.   The Northside was the first priority, where the whites and money were, the mayor and the alderman, told that due to the imminent threat of ISIS, the government was providing FEMA camps to protect the citizens.

The TV commercial showed people in comfortable Quonset Huts, with a relaxing rec room and huge televisions.   The Politicians and generals came on urging the public to go for the imminent safety to the FEMA authorities.   No one had any reason to distrust them except we, the resistance, who knew just what was going to happen to those who walked into the devil's own hell expecting kindly refuge.  They were going to weed out who they needed to keep the cities running, then take over what businesses there were.  ISIS.   The government used one  of their armies to scare us to go into the hands of another of their armies.  Active soldiers had never been informed of the truth, and when they began to understand what was happening, to object to being part of a bloody coup in their own country, squads of US soldiers and sailors were summarily executed, thinking they were making a point, when in reality they were creating enemies easily recruited by an opposing side.

After the middle east was subdued with a similar policy of funding groups of terrorists to try to get ASSAD out of office, for example... and many others they removed, funding protesters, sending in guns and Navy Seals, Special Forces, to train the soldiers, and lead them into the first of their fire fights, bloody them well before leaving to train other people to fight for their army.  


I was involved in a revolution in two thousand and seven, that in a way has smoldered, occasionally flaring up, ever since.  We may have lost, though we had some wins as well.   I was a leader in the sense that I wrote of topics, and my words were taken as holy scripture by some.  Too many of the words I had written were misinterpreted, metaphors taken as literal instructions.   Never before had a writer been in such a position?   The Rich and others introduced me to the world as Jesus, and the writing I was doing on line was powerful, in the voice of Jesus which had risen unbidden, and took over, and there was no more comedy writing, only scribing the brainwashing I had went thru, and telling them from the perspective of one who Knows he is indeed the Christ here for a mercy killing, before earth began to fall into chaos, and soon enough make the atmosphere deadly to life.  

I go back and forth saying the Christ, and just  using I.  They showed the world footage of a child who was growing wings, which they cut off and treated with radiation, not knowing if this was a good angel, or a dark, fallen angel.   A lot of people were informed.  They became instantly religious when they heard the stories about him, how he had lived thru certain death time and again.   How he had grown and lived, and...   the group looked at me as an  Angel, and I looked at myself as a loser in a way, who never could get credit, who went to university too long and was hoping to become a paid writer, who had found no one that interested, though he barely tried.     








IN THE END THE FIGHTING WAS NOT ABOUT ANY RELIGION, JUST PURELY A MOVE TO CONQUER.  To take over the usa and run the country without any delusion of Democracy, which had never meant anything in politics, because the deals were always made behind closed doors, to the advantage of themselves, and those who funded their campaigns.  

The Cross Report/ teacherly Entry On Progress of Novel; a non fiction entry.

This is for the reader who is attempting to monitor my attempt at teaching how to write a novel, or at least offer a lot of suggestions to add to your own style, etc...  AND ALSO THOSE WHO HAVE HAD A HARD TIME FOLLOWING THE PLOT, as it is.

I have found I will use I as the protagonist....  I start out in the middle of the war.   I slip out of Chicago, go down and give a sermon, then  I am flown out to the front..   we are shot at, I tell the others to go on, and know the bullets cannot hit me, saving their lives in the process, since I was their primary target.  I stop my motorcycle and let them shoot at me.  

From there I begin to fight for an army, where the more tactically knowledgeable military that has built up around us, where they think  I am most needed.  I have lasers in my eyes, the only ones in existence;   the scientists and anyone who knew of the top secret surgery has been eliminated.  To the world, I AM performing a miracle, as I cut down an enemy that has no weapon to defeat me...  they did not expect resistance for their plan to take over the USA, and have run into THE CHRIST fighting on the side of the people, after making his return for the RAPUTURE.. the end of life, and the birth of pure soul....

I give sermons to the soldiers on our side, which runs from the Appalacian mountains west, on the continent of the USA...   I have been able to win any battle  I enter with the lasers in my eyes.  Though I can do other miracles, they are both destructive, and if  I lose control of them, as I will wish to do because the rush is more addiction than sex and crack and morphine combined ,,,,   Becoming the lightening in the sky and the fire beneath the earth, unleashing them both to release the souls on earth to become pure soul, without reincarnation sucking them back in....

The sermons he gives between battles are meant to raise the spirits, and give a true report on the war, which the mainstream media is actively in a war of lies to conceal our activity no matter how many die, or are tortured, or family members disappeared one by one...    They were used to such activity and went along.   So I give lectures, sermons ....

These in a way are the heart of the book,

The story goes from slipping out of Chicago, to traveling around fighting and giving sermons, of sorts, nightly, to counter the mainstream media, who he is at war with.     DURING this time period, they have used nuclear bombs.   The EARLY WRITING in this blog, the descriptions of battle, and the planning, etc...   are being mined for what looks like it could expanded into scenes related to the plot, or the over net of ideas that tie the actions together, the philosophy that binds them as surely as a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end... though I prefer a combination of the two.

No need to ramble too much further, other than to say that peace treaties are broken, and he has released fire from his chest and filmed and shown around the world his enemies added this to the weapons they had to fight.  

The Christ is convinced that he is going to be activated by the force greater than He, the God The Father whom He served unto the mere death of a human body.  


THE MAJOR NEEDS OF THIS PROSE IS COHESION.   A PICARESQUE BOOK, GOING FROM STORY TO STORY THAT TIE INTO THE NOVEL.  CHAPTERS NOT MOVING ALONG A STORY SO MUCH AS TELLING VARIOUS STORIES THAT ADD UP TO THE IMPACT OF THE WRITING.    Each chapter has to be a masterpiece on it's own, always adding something new, or a different perspective on the prevailing motifs.

My basic question with this novel is what is a humyn's responsibility on this planet?   The Christ asks this question with each word written in blood in the minds of those around him, as he tries to take on all the evil on the planet at once, instead of hitting them one by one....  there was no winning such a war, he could see in hindsight.  The war has been the last of humynkinds grotesque spasms of one philosophy destroying another, a culture declaring itself law, and punishing any who will not wear a burka, or try to drive, or go out shopping alone, talk to males...   the insanity pressed on people that may keep the crime rate down, though actually encourages the breaking of all kinds of laws so the elite can drink and do drugs and sleep with western women at will, etc... live like kings and pseudo kings have forever, above the laws imposed on the masses to prevent chaos. 

The Christ believes he is there to destroy the planet, kill all life here, the only way to release all the souls embedded in life on the planet, from every cell in every leaf of grass to...  that draws the soul back down into rebirth.   I AM lucky to have had reoccurring dreams as a child of being a soul flying around above the blue earth with swirling white clouds, curiosity without reflection, pure experience, absolutely content... then being sucked down to the earth by a powerful force and emerging from a woman.   I had the dreams long before the birds and bees had been explained to me.   For years, like many other mystical experiences,  I set this aside and studied the science that challenged the supernatural...  disallowed whatever could not be measured with a ruler.

The first chapter needs to be pumped up a bit...  more mystery.  Maybe not reveal who he is or anything about him, until he has escaped, and stops the mortorcycle in the street drawing the fire of enemies who have ambushed them....   his companions escape....  then he goes into the church, and reflects on what has happened....  what he has done, the revolution, what he needs to say that night...


He is gathering an army.   Telling the doomed that they can die kneeling, or standing up;   paraphrasing  Villa.  A genocide of seven billion has been planned, and they are experiencing it as soldiers, mercenaries, and the armed forces, march across the USA taking over city after city until rebels can get organized enough to fight them, and stop their advance from the east coast.  They have split the country in two.   The forces under Jesus, or however they look at him, as a brainwashed Manchurian candidate gone rogue.... a mass murderer.  He has to own up to the dies though he knows like no other that there is a soul in a body, and the dead were getting the best of the deal, which was why I attempted suicide serious enough to once be left for dead... I am not ready for death this time, because my passing will spew lightening and fire across the planet, destroying all I have ever loved in my life.   The Son  Of Man will return to being the Son Of God, an invisible being in space...  drawn by the pain of the next planet where I will be drawn, the gravity pulling me along without thought, to be born into lives to try to ease the passage of a planet into the grave.   A professional hand holder for the dying.

I arrive long before the problems erupt, steer the animals on the planet the best I can while still respecting their ability to think for themselves, the FREE WILL I consider sacred in my relationship with in our case humans.  I am a missionary during these times, and before, to animals that have evolved into sentience, to their first rockets into space....  inevitably the planets with lives die.  The souls that have been living there, trapped in the gravity or being grown, I don't know..  maybe both... 

THIS is part of why I was disappointed though humbled and flattered and awed to find out that people had taken my words so seriously, that they had become the bullets that I had written, metaphorically I thought....   I did not know what to tell the soldiers to do....  did not know enough to send them where their guns could do the most good...   I was kept too ignorant in my prison cell to have kept up with the world around me.     The enemy we share is still active.