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WHAT WHITE ELEPHANT

THERELIGIONISSUE

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DOGMA, MYTHS &SPIRITUAL PROPAGANDA

CONFESSIONALTHINGS OVERHEARDTHE GUEST LIST

CONTENTS

HOROSCOPES

SANTA IS BULLSHIT

FOREGROUND

HITCHENS, JEFFERSON& JESUS

A rst person account o religion versusthe law. Who wins the epic showdown?

SHAUN OF THE DEADIt was every library employees antasy.

By the time Rebecca joined them, Sherlu

had reduced Shaun to a nervous thing,

and he could only mumble

PROSE & POETRYThe rames within my eyes guide me

to the darker side; with a bonus guest

appearance by Jesus in a canoe

A MODEST PROPOSALTo eat babies made o chocolate--

this is my decree, no Im not pregnant

Im ull rom breakast

THE FINAL CATASTROPHE

Heavyweight battle o the world! Jews

versus Muslims in this anticipated bout!

Plus politics and warheads and junk

AND NOW A WORD FROMOUR SPONSORSIntent gone awry; what starts as fattery

and exposure gets blown into a libelous

accusation o thievery

...2

...4

WHAT WHITE ELEPHANT THEAPRILISSUE

...17

...15

...18

...19

...20

SPONSOREDBYRELIGION

13

...14

...16

...13

...12

...8

...10

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ARIES - Shit sucks. And no,yours does not smell like

roses. So do us all a avor andget your head out o your ass. :)

Youre going to play things ast &loose this month because youre eel-ing especially risky. Rawr. You devilyou. Some one will try to trick youinto having a political arugment. Dontmake yoursel seem silly. Be on yourtoes.

TAURUS - Your going tobreak your ankle on the

3rd o the month, yo. Sorry.Try picking up a new hobby like jail-breaking iphones, or learning to speakebonics. You never know when these

skills might come in handy. A Cancerwill probably ask you or money thismonth. Tell that lazy bitch to go geta job, or at least stop smoking, hav-ing babies, and sucking their thumb.Actually try this month. At worst youllust ail, but youre used to that bynow.

GEMINI - When you wishupon a star, something

something, Jesus loves you.Remember how that old saying goes,I at frst you dont succeed, destroyeverything within sight? Its especially

true this month. Dont worry about itthough. You are right ater all. Keeptelling yoursel this daily. Soonerthan later youll start believing it.Sprinkle o sunshine somewhere inthere. Dont take my word or it, trustyour instincts and stu will rock, orsomething.

CANCER - Hey man, couldyou spare some change? Whatabout or a war hero? Your

month will be flled with asking people

or money, having babies, smokingand sucking your thumb. Way to fllyour ree-time. I would suggest fnd-ing a job, but I dont have time tolisten to all your deensive excuses.In a pinch, ask a Taurus or a loan.Theyll resist at frst, but then give inbecause theyre a sucker.

LEO - Youre as transparent as glass. Have someone explain

to you what that means. Youprobably wont want to ask a riend,chances are they will tell you a lie to

avoid sounding dumb. Youll fnd a loto people this month tip-toeing aroundyou, but only because youre meanwhen conronted with acts. Try fnd-ing a new outlet or your anger likepottery, hot yoga, or spiritualism. Iyou cant make it, ake it-- its not likeGod is real anyway.

VIRGO - Are you eeling sensitivethis month? Quit it. Take a deepbreath. Develop a visual, God

hates you. This is the time to stoplooking or something to save you.You could always learn blacksmith-ing or something equally hip. I hearthose medieval airs are a lucrativeuntapped niche market. Follow yourgut instinct, and i you ail you canalways rely on someone to be yoursupport system. They had no betterplans regardless o what they tell you.

HOROSCOPESEVERYTHING YOU WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT

THE FUTURE BUT WERE TOO AFRAID TO ASK

2 PASTPRESENTDIVINATIONS

loves

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CAPRICORN - Nothingcan really be said here...We all know what youve

done. You kind o knowingly suck &dont really deserve anything thismonth... except an awul horoscope.You will eel this month. It will change

what you were previously eeling.Something else will happen. A causewill trigger an eect to happen. Situa-tions will react, and there will be lotso mindless talking all month. Go buya gun.

AQUARIUS - Youve got a wayo lie, youll stick with it, nothingwill change this month, nothing

will change this month, your religionwont chanage this month, your musicselection will not change this month,you. But its whatever though, ev-

eryone expected that much anyway.Shoot or the stars and you will go ar.Roadtrips are good or the soul, andbarbituates are good or the mind. Orso Im told. Remember to call yourgrandmother.

PISCES - You need areal horoscope, Pisces,

because you deserve it. Youre a an-tastic individual, and everyone aroundyou in your lie gains the tremendous

beneft o your humor, your sense osocial grace, your snazzy yet not toopretentious ashion sense, your giantIm a rural survivalist beard Now geto my property!, your deeply devot-ed love o tea, and reely dispensednutritional advice. Wow. Youre a pret-

ty rad motherucker. Youre a champin all things you do. Gush.

LIBRA - You will fnd something you werent lookingor like a speeding ticket.Slow down. You cannot be-

come a Will ater being a Billy on thespur o the moment, just as you canttransition into Sal rom Salmonella in

a brash, childish decision to grow up.I you listen, however, those rings othe bell o youth will fnd you and de-liver you to your dreams.

SCORPIO - I dont know whyeveryone shits all over

your dreams-- youre apretty cool person. Its about timeyou were cut some slack. Whiner. Acoworker will say something awulabout you, but youll misunderstand,

thinking it was a joke and you willlaugh. Everyone will instantly eel veryuncomortable. Its okay though-- youhave a unny personality and everyonealways fnds it easy to laugh at you.

SAGITTARIUS - Look aboveat Scorpios horoscope.

You should basically ollow thesame advice, except you know whyeveryone shits all over your dreams.You like it. Masochist. Its not reallysuch an issue however, Sagittarius,

youve always liked being a trouble-maker. Id say it gets better, when inact itll get much, much worse. A Leoin your lie is acting like a stuck upreligious zealot alloasudden and youwill fnd it difcult not to lash out &call them on their shit. Remember, no

matter what you do, lie just kicks youin the balls.

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Yeti Detective

Part I

Santa is Bullshit

My friend told me to write about myreligion issues. So Ill tell you all whatI told my therapist. She ended up sob-bing under her desk, frantically writingme a referral to a psychiatrist.

When I was very young, mymother spent most of the time ignor-ing me. Every once in a while, though,wed have a special night where shedsuck down a pile of blow and beat theshit out of me. From, like, ages 2-4.Then she found Jesus.

She came home after her firstchurch service one evening and told

me the good news. There is an invis-ible man in the sky, he sees every thingwe do, and he loves us so much that heonce came to earth and let some peoplebrutally torture him and nail him to aplank and hang it up in the air until theygot bored with watching him wrigglelike a fish and stabbed him to death

with a spear.He did that so we could be with

him when we die.Also, he has magic powers.Also, also, he will give you

things if you ask him while kneelingnext to your bed at night. Like how if

you write a letter to Santa, hell get iteven though the USPS doesnt go to thenorth pole.

Even at the naive age of 4 Ithought that sounded like a load of stu-pid bullshit. I was aware, at the time,that a lot of people believed a lot ofthings that sounded good, but were im-

possible. Like the Santa letter thing. Iknew Santa was bullshit because we

didnt have a chimney. They said hecould come in through the keyhole,but Id looked up how pin and tumblerlocks work in the fat set of encyclo-pedias we had for some reason. Evenif you could turn into pixie dust, thereisnt a way through the keyhole of apin and tumbler lock. Bullshit, mom.Bull. Shit.

But I played along with theSanta thing, because if I didnt shedfly into a rage and beat the shit outof me. I played along with the Jesus

thing, too, and for similar reasons.On the pros side of my momsfinding Jesus, the cocaine fueled beat-ings did stop. On the cons side, thereligious-fervor fueled beatings im-mediately began. The rationalizationswere different: You are an evil de-mon spawn that slithered out of my

horrible, ungodly cunt. as opposed to,I am high as fuck. I feel like a god.Watch how far I can kick this baby.

Most of my life I thought thatmaybe Mom was right. Because thatswhat abused kids think. I thought thatmaybe there was a giant, invisible manwith magic powers living in the sky. Ifso, hes obviously not on my side. Sowho is on my side? Maybe this Satanguy.

So at age 14 I developed anAnti-Christ complex. That is a com-plex where you believe the reason thatGod hates you is because you are the

spawn of the devil, destined to bringabout the end of all mankind.I wrote up little contracts and

spent my lunch money buying thesouls of my classmates. I find mostchildren will sell their soul for a dol-lar. Ive gone as high as five. Some-times Id hold the souls hostage and

offer to burn a few of the contracts inexchange for wishes.

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wrong Bible camp.So there was this one instance,

at the end of Bible camp (incidentally,my Bible with its fuckawesome notesin the back got stolen at Bible camp,on this very night) where some assholewas going to pray for all the impres-

sionable teens and give everyone thegift of tongues.

If youre unfamiliar with glos-solalia, its where a religious person(multiple religions, its not exclusiveto Christianity) babbles like a drunkenidiot, loudly, in front of everybody

in the whole damn church, and all ofthose stupid cunts think theyre pray-ing some special prayer in a languagethat only God knows. Let me rephrase.

Some Christians believe thatgod gives you a message to give backto him in a language no human speaks.Including you. So, the person babbling

doesnt know what theyre saying ei-ther. No information is imparted toanybody. God just made that personlook like a retarded asshole for no rea-son.

If youre unfamiliar with Chris-tianity in general, you should know thisis not some fringe, extremist shit. This

is very common. Your fucking Auntie probably does this every week. Imserious. Church is a rational personsnightmare.

So erebody ends up vomitingbaby talk within the first 20 minutes, because once you receive the giftyou get to go play frisbee golf and eatcake or some shit. I dont know. I neverwent. I stayed up there for three hours.Three. Fucking. Hours.

No gift.This, of course, reinforces my

notion that God hates me, and subse-quently sends me down a dark, but hi-

larious path.

At age 16, the desire to bone acertain Jesus Girl lead me to read theBible. Twice.

That shit is more fucked up thanLovecraft. If you put Bret Easton Ellismind in a cavemans body, he wouldwrite the bible. The readable parts,

anyway. And probably rape everyone,because Bret Easton Ellis writes prettygraphically about rape, and cartoonshave taught me that cavemen are verystrong.

Despite what many Christianswill tell you, the Bible actually is full

of contradictions. The particular BibleI had contained about 100 blank pag-es in the back for notes. Every time Icame across a contradiction, Id markdown the books, chapters, and versesand make a little note. The most glar-ing one I can remember off hand is thatin Exodus, when Moses is receiving

the Ten Commandments, God is de-scribed as being a jealous god. Then,in the gospel of John, you find the phrase, God is love. Then, furtheron in Acts, written by Paul the Apostle(kind of a primadonna pseudonym, ifyou ask me,) he says, Love is not jeal-ous.

Now, if you had math in highschool, youve probably heard of theequivalence principle. If a=b and b=cthen a=c. Here, the Bible is sayingthat God=Jealous, and God=Love, butLove=/=Jealous, and thats just notmathematically consistent.

Obviously, not being mathe-matically consistent isnt the only logicproblem with a book that puts bats in alist of birds you arent supposed to eat(Leviticus 11:13-19.)

The point is, I tried. I tried Je-sus. I tried hard. I even went to Biblecamp. I hear stories today from my

peers who went to Bible camp and justgot hella laid. I, obviously, went to the

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Part II

I was a Teenage Wizard

So, obviously Jesus isnt goingto reach out to me, and Satan hasnt yeteither despite my years of soul broker-ing. Thats cool. No big Deal. Im aproactive guy. Maybe theres a way forme to reach out to them.

After all, the Universe obeysmathematical laws, just like a videogame physics engine. All I have todo is learn the source code, hack theUniverse, and leave a message for the

programmers. That sounds FUCKINGEASY. Whats the source code of theUniverse? Psh. Fucking magic andshit, obviously. You can tell because ofhow all of the alchemists and wizardsand sorcerors throughout the years sovastly improved the societies that theyworked in and for that the denizens of

those societies saw a vast reduction ininfant mortality, pestilence, and havingto shit in the corner because after theRoman Empire fell nobody was smartenough to build plumbing anymore.

Oh, wait. Nevermind. None ofthat is true.

Is what I should have said tomyself. Instead I went to the occultbook store in the mall (it was the 90s,malls had everything) and bought my-self a How To Be a Wizard book. I dontrecommend anybody every do that, butIm not gonna lie, some of that shit isuseful. Just remember that magic isnt

real, but there are things you can do totrick yourself into feeling like youreawesome, which may cause you to actawesome, which may make everyoneelse think youre awesome, which willerase any future doubts you may haveabout your awesomeness, and thenyoull think your spell worked, andyoull keep entertaining that bullshit.

And thats kind of what hap-pened to me, which is why I was a wiz-ard for five fucking years.

Seriously. I knew the Tarotfront to back. I knew a shit load ofwords in Hebrew so I could chant Godnames or what the fuck ever. I couldlucid dream, which I still can, and itsfucking awesome, but I never figuredout astral projection, which I verystrongly suspect is just lucid dream-ing about the room you fell asleep in.Around year five of being a wizard,you start to expect to be able to do

some phenomenal shit. Ive playedD&D. I know whats up.

But I couldnt. I could makemyself feel good. I could makethings happen that were either alreadyvery likely to happen anyway, or weregeneral enough that a whole host ofevents could be interpreted as me hit-

ting my target. And even then Idsometimes fail. But I couldnt set shiton fire with my mind. I couldnt see thefuture. I couldnt time travel. I couldntshoot lightning bolts out of my fingers.I was like, What the fuck am I doingwith my life?

The answer was, Being afucking wizard. Oh my god. Stop it.So I did. And I kind of drifted,

directionless in life, for a couple years.Then someone lent me a Lee Strobelbook.

Lee Strobel writes Christianand creationist apologetics books.

Apologetics is so named because itis when someone is basically going,Look, Im sorry I believe such stupidshit, and Im making the world a worse place with every breath I draw, andtheres no reason for me to continuedoing either of those two things, butIm going to make up a bunch of bogusones and tell them to you now.

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7

It was a book that PROVEDthe Earth was created by a giant in-visible man with magic powers and a beard. Maybe the beard is the sourceof his magic powers. Ive never growna beard. Maybe thats why I was a fail-ure as a wizard...

Anyway, I read it. I gave it oldfair and balanced. Then I thought tomyself, What if this guy is a fuckingliar? So I went to the internet, wherethe information is. Turns out, guysa fucking liar. Turns out he misrep-resented most of his sources for that

book. Turns out, there is a very poorcase for a supernatural creator, indeed.And from that site I discovered skep-ticism. And from skepticism I discov-ered Science. And from Science I dis-covered something wonderful.

Theres a fair chance Jesusnever existed, and if he did he defi-

nitely was not the son of God, and it isextremely unlikely that he ever made ablind man see or a crippled man walk.

But Science has.Wizards arent real and magic

is bullshit. It cant make you fly. Itcant see into the future or the past. Itcant send you to other worlds.

Bus Science can.There is no God and there

is no Devil, and if there are they usetheir supernatural powers to make theUniverse appear exactly as if nothingsupernatural exists at all. There are hu-man brains which are made of meat and

slime and are slightly prone to halluci-nation and strongly prone to believingin profoundly stupid shit that does notexist.

Even if you believe there is aGod, and he is all powerful, then what-ever is happening right now is his will,and your whimpering prayers arent

going to change is mind. So if you

want something done, do it yourself.And Science has been our greatest toolin the relatively short time weve hadit.

Religion has existed for aslong as there have been humans (about300,000 years,) yet no one has ever

built an angel engine or a demon gunor a god powered ship.

Weve had science sinceroughly the 1700s and weve eradi-cated diseases that kill children, builtweapons that can destroy whole cit-ies in an instant, walked on the moon,

and given billions of people across theplanet the ability to communicate withone another instantly.

Science is awesome. Supersti-tion is bullshit. Dont snort a giant pileof coke and beat the shit out of yourkids or theyll end up like me.

DILEMMAof the month

Proper Ettiquette?

After sexually assaulting

someone in a bathroom

what appropriate course of

action follows next?

1) Nothing, the bible says I

can rape & subjugate anyone

I want. OR

2) Postdate an apology neversent. OR

3) Blaming the victim, cause

they had it coming anyway!

cast your vote@HEARTSTOMP.org

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Dustin Wood

On Friday, December 16, 2011, I arrivedat my job in the usual fashion runningve minutes late, over caffeinated, anddreading the impending urry of emailsand phone calls that consume my daynegotiating pharmaceutical researchcontracts between huge corporationsand physicians. Some time that morn-

ing, I took a break for perhaps my fthor sixth cup of coffee and navigate toCNNs homepage. There, in pixilatedblack and white staring at me with ef-fortless inconsideration, was the newsthat Christopher Hitchens had passedthe evening prior.

Several months before his

death, Hitchens noted how much heappreciated the many letters he hadreceived concerning his long battlewith esophageal cancer. For some timebefore his death, I meant to write thiscantankerous dying old crow and tellhim that, while I had not agreed witheverything hed ever composed, I had

always appreciated how he thoughtand indeed, how hed written. My trep-idation in this was that I wasnt entirelycertain what to write to him about. Iwanted to pen some dealings of minewhich were in some way inspired byhis own accounts. Though a few cameto mind, they all seemed rather bor-

ing to me and, as Hitchens once putit, the worst thing in the world is to beboring. The answer, as I discovered it,was to come the day after I learned ofhis death in the small town of Athens,Texas.

Athens sits approximately sev-enty miles from the city of Dallas. A

few weeks prior to the death of Hitch-

ens, the city received a notice from theFreedom From Religion Foundationstating that one of its members tookexception to the nativity scene on thecourthouse lawn and went further indemanding that this scene be takendown. I read everything I could on the

subject including descriptions of thevarious displays erected along sidethe nativity. Most of this drivel eliciteda near hallucinogenic state of sittingthrough an orgy composed of poorwriting and a talking points memo byJames Dobson.

Steeled by what I will reluctant-

ly call my mourning for a man I neverknew and the theocratic hysteria I sawon the printed page, I made it a pointto travel to Athens the next day. There,on the courthouse lawn, a rally wasplanned for the community to stand insolidarity with their plastic depiction ofthe birth of a God.

Prior to my trip, I researchedthe relevant case law and was pleasedto nd that the city attorney, Mr. ClintDavis, had also done his lawyerlyhomework and cited the exact samecases in his response to the FreedomFrom Religion Foundation. In short, solong as the nativity scene is part of a

larger overall holiday display which in-corporates various sufciently secularimagery (Santa Clause, reindeer, lights,etc.) all of which the courthouse hadin place then the nativity would notbe considered an unconstitutional en-dorsement of religion. To be succinct,Athens was right on the law.

As my truck took me ever clos-er to the City of Athena (odd that thecitizenry hadnt raised an objection totheir town being named after a paganGreek goddess), I hoped to hear com-ments from the mind, from reason,from law. These hopes, small thoughthey were, found themselves hope-

lessly dashed on the rocks of a sea of

HITCHENS, JEFFERSON

JESUS

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approximately 5,000 people singing,praying, and stating, that the UnitedStates was a, Christian Nation.

Well, no doubt this is a nationmade up mostly of Christians. A studyby Trinity College in Hartford, Con-necticut found that, as of 2008, 86%

of Americans identied as Christians.However, to say that this is a nationmostly made up of Christians and tosay that this is a Christian Nation is toplay a dangerous game which is muchmore than mere semantics. In the for-mer case its a matter of statistical factand in the later, its a legalistic falsity.

The city was right on the law, but it waswrong on everything else.In preparation of the rally, I

took with me several copies of theTreaty of Tripoli signed by Thomas Jef-ferson. This treaty was signed after theUnited States beat back the forces ofthe Barbary States (that is, the north

African states of the Ottoman Empire)in 1796. This was also the rst U.S. warever fought on foreign soil. OfcerPresley OBannon of the United StatesMarine Corps being the rst soldier toever erect the U.S. ag on foreign soilduring a war. Once the Barbary Stateswere forced to stop their policy of pira-

cy and the taking of Americans and Eu-ropeans as slaves (estimated by somemodern historians to have numberedup to 1.5 million) Jefferson agreed tothe Treaty of Tripoli. Therein, the Unit-ed States specically recites that it isnot a Christian Nation nor was it found-ed upon Christian principles.

I took four copies of this trea-ty with me with the relevant sectionshighlighted and taped them up at vari-ous places around the courthouse in-cluding one copy which found itself af-xed to the courthouse doors; my ownmicro-Martin-Luther-moment.

During the event itself, one

speaker quoted Jefferson which I found

especially ironic given that it was Jef-fersons Virginia Statute for ReligiousFreedom which served as the basis oour First Amendment to the U.S. Con-stitution. I have no doubt that had thespeaker thought about the invocationof Jefferson a bit more, he might have

been somewhat reluctant to invoke theghost of our third president.After all of this, I drove back to

Dallas still the rational Anglican - whichI remain. Indeed, one reason I was ini-tially drawn to Anglicanism is its mottoof, Faith within Reason. The two arenot necessarily non-overlapping magis-

teria, as stated by Stephen Jay Gould.It is entirely plausible to be a person fowhom faith is an integral part of onespsychological structure and simultane-ously not be bound by it so completelas to foreclose any possibility of inquiror skepticism. Thus, the phrase Credoquia absurdum, (I believe it because

it is absurd) should be done away with.One believes, or doesnt believe, be-cause one chooses to do so. And in allof this, believing upon faith, that Godsgreatest gift to mankind is our ability toact rationally, to develop and organizeourselves as a nation of laws foundedin reason even if such reason leads us

to doubt the existence of an almightbeing in any case.This is the Promethean re

of the human mind and intellect. It isquenchable in each of us only uponorders given by and to ourselves indi-vidually or by the slow dimming of itsembers as a result of non-use. Assum-

ing that there is a god, and assumingour mental prowess is the greatest ogifts bestowed upon us, one can onltherefore conclude that to abandon osquelch that ability would be the high-est insult one could muster, even per-haps rising to the level of blasphemy.

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SHAUNOF

THEDEAD

Shaun looked at Josh, beck-oning for some assistance; findingnone, he stammered that indeed hewas familiar with The Real House-wives of Atlanta.Good, then youll understand whatIm about to tell you. We are all just

going to have to manage ourselves,no matter how hot it is, what kind ofday were havin, or how many peopletake their fifteen-minute break fromsupervising twenty-seven childrensuffering from brain conditions, toplay a little game on the Internet forhalf a second, on the public Internetmachine at the Library. What we cantdo is start suffering from Fancy LadySyndrome like NeNe Leakes and com-pany. You understand me? So what Ineed you to do, all I need you to do, isapologize to this public servant, whosin here earnin a living and not play-ing diddle-hockey with foreign capital,and then, by the way--

Sherlu paused and lookedaround the library, which had trans-formed itself into quite a little peanutgallery. She inhaled with a statuesquegrandeur Josh had previously associ-ated only with the Winged Victory ofSamothrace. BY THE WAY, Sherluhollered. ARE THERE ANY JEW-

ISH FOLK PRESENT HERE IN THEURBAN HUB BRANCH LIBRARYTODAY? Yaint in trouble; just comeover here, this young man just hassomething to say to you.

To Joshs utter surprise, Re-becca Goldman was on the prem-ises and actually stepped forward. A

squat, silver-haired lesbian from NewJersey, Rebeccas grandmother hadactually survived Birkenau, come to

America, birthed progeny in multiplegenerations, the last of whom stillenjoyed reading high-minded literarythings, stopping often at the staff deskto chat with Josh about the latest fromSusan Orlean or Paul Auster.

Josh Motte

Now, said Sherlu, Mr.--whatd yousay his name was, Josh?

Paretsky, said Shaun, who was stillmaking a face.

Right now, Mr. Puh-rittsky, youreacting like youre on Sneer Factor

when what youre about to be on isFear Factor, Sherlu stated. I thinkthat program was on CBS insteadof ABC. Anyway, Mr. Pommeretzky,like I tell my developmentally dis-abled students, in this day and agethe month of March gets quite a bitof heat, but even so we still have to

be capable of managing ourselvesdespite the temperature. The temps,as my aunt likes to say. (As Joshlistened he paused to reflect on theway Sherlu pronounced aunt torhyme with tante rather than forma homophone with ant.) You know,people like you, Mr. Puh-fettsky, have

done diddled the financial system tothe point where my aunt worked herwhole life for the city of Birmingham,Alabama and now the whole damncounty is bankrupt and her pension isjust gone. Gone! And this is becauseof fast-talkin easy-money boys likeyourself. Dont you open that pink-

lipped mouth or Im about to go NeNeLeakes on your ass. Are you familiarwith the adventures and physical al-tercations of the ladies on The RealHousewives of Atlanta? Its a realityshow on Bravo cable network. Im justtrying to use examples and analogiesto reach out to you where you are to-day, son

(PARTTWO)

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None taken, said Rebecca,with her best Christian smile in place.

Sherlu flagged down yet another pass-er-by to snap the picture on ShaunsiPhone. When the image was takenshe addressed Shaun once again.

Tag it on your personal Facebookpage! At-symbol, Ziprekky. Searchfor Urban Hub... Now write this in thecomment box, and dont you dare re-move this post or I will find somethinguncomfortable to do with that blondieponytail: I love the Library District somuch that when I get my tax refundnext month I am giving all two thou-sand dollars of it to the Library Foun-dation so that future generations mayenjoy the great opportunities we havehere today. I especially enjoy thebig smiles from the helpful staff andmeeting all the wonderful members ofour community at the Library.

Sherlu paused. Be sure to capitalizeLibrary.

Shaun audibly passed gas. But myrefund is only about eight hundredbucks--

So many excuses! What do

you tell your girlfriend, when you cantperform? Mmmm-hmm.m

Id git to apologizing to Mr.Motte here before Ms. Goldman getsover here. Shes from New Jersey,and its just too crowded over in thatstate for folks to be able to put upwith shit. Pardon my French, Josh.

And then once you get you apolo-

gies done, Mr Kuh-foosky, weregonna take that smartphone of yoursand have a family picture and youregonna put it on the librarys Facebookpage.

It was every library employeesfantasy. By the time Rebecca joinedthem, Sherlu had reduced Shaun toa nervous thing, and he could onlymumble Sorry, Mr. Motte, as hishands started to shake. Now, saidSherlu. Repeat after me: I, ShaunZi-poosky, just wanted to apologize toyou, Rebecca, and to all Jewish per-sons, for my disrespect against yourcommunity and your faith. I now knowthat trying to appropriate your heritage

so I can cheat my way through theU.S. and Israeli tax codes is wrong...Sherlu went on like that for fully 120seconds more, to the delighted snick-ers of the homeless youth clusteredaround the downloadable-musicstation. At the end of the process,Shauns hands shook so badly that

he spilled the remainder of his Star-bucks all over the green upholsteryof the armchair. Sassafrass! Sherlucried. Do you need him to clean thatup, Josh? I can have him to do that, ifwe need to.

Josh allowed that it wouldprobably be best for him to call in

Buildings & Grounds for spill cleanup.Sherlu reluctantly assented.Well, okay, if thats what the rule-book tells you, she said. Now lineup, everybody, and smile like JesusChrist himself is here for a pastoralvisit--no offense, Rebecca, I just gotto reach these kids--

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12 PROSE&POETRY

SACRED HOLEVeleteen

Jagged line and mixed up thoughts,tell me you love me again and Illmake another cut. The game is yourreligion, the pain and confessions

are mine, mix them all up and youget this love of our kind. Let mebe your fixation I can change yourways. Ill open you up to visions,all sharp and shiny like a blade.I saw my soul at the age of 13,dark black and unclean. Though Iwas ripped apart at an early age, Ifound myself loving the reflectionamuch darker Dorian Grey.

My therapist recommends Ilet the skeletons out of my closet;its a pity she doesnt know Icaused it.

The frames within my eyesguide me to the darker side; I relishin the pain, revel in the gain andlove how your heart pulses incon-stricts. Sunken in ribs and shallowbreaths my fingertips find their depththat reaches, swallows and rips. Ireached inside your soul and sawa world that didnt exist a turbulentpreaching of promises pleadings andpricks.

I loathed the men and foundthe women, spreading the lies andopening up to filth, my life flash-ing before my eyes, a renaissance

renewal filled to the hilt. I calledyou blasphemous, the biggest sinnerof all, and ultimately the idol withinmy eyes.

I question my existence; Iwonder of my soul, did it get lostwithin the pages of time? Not aday goes by that I dont know thatIm dying, a never ending monster

living its life below the heavens,defying. I rub my skin to makeit raw, proving my body is humanand to conquer the crawl. Put meinside you and Id never leave:my idol, lover and life of which Icleave. I dont mind the pain I tendto call it pleasure, a sickening wayproof of the devil.

My mother gave me crosses

and my father gave me love, thekind that loved my hands and slidinto my bed.

I kiss her lips and I knowits real, like drowning in all mykillsa never ending meal. Thewarm wave of her writhing lipsleaves my fingertips shivering fromthe warbles and purlings of hertongue. Almost like the lock andclutch of my gun.Too bad she actually thought shewon.I cant have idols, female lovers, orblasphemous models.

After all what would have Jesusdone?

JESUS IN A CANOEDaniel A. Jones

with my toescurled in a muddy missouri riverbank,i watched christ oat by in a canoeupstream with an armload of shand a prayer. i shouteda greeting and he said something back i couldnt hear

over the roar of the river.with my faith exposedi had to wonder if what he saidwas important

or just a simple acknowledgment.while i was wondering if he had his shing permit,

i took a long pull from my beer and spat,surprised that instead of my cheap lager

my can was lled witha vintage napa valley cabernet sauvignon.

he got me again, always trying to fool a fellow.alpha, omega and the wine drunk jester.

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Cut to the afternoon. I walked

into the nurses ofce for a Band-Aid,

almost colliding with the nurse stand-

ing inside the door. She looked at me

and asked something that chilled me

not just to my bone, but to my fatty,fatty heart:

Lactation room?

I thought I was hearing things. Why

would I need a lactation room? I

didnt have the energy or quick-think-

ing to say no, so my face had to pick

up the slack. My poor, confused face.She claried, asking if I was there for

the Lactating Mothers group. Lac-

tating mothers. Lactating, as in, just

gave birth and havent had time to

lose the baby weight yet.

I held up my mangled extrem-

ity in response. No, um. My hand?Dont have a kid.

Oh, Im sorry! You look just like

one of the mothers in our group.

Ah.

Just the face! I didnt mean anything.

NOT BLOODY LIKELY. What is the

world trying to tell me? That I prob-

ably shouldnt have made brown-

ies an hour ago with my roommate.

Mmmm, brownies baby...

*No offense to any preggos

out there. You have such a lovely

glow! I would be honored to glow like

that! Or so Ive heard! Sorry about

the whole baby thing, though.

Beauty School Dropout

This is what my weeks of endless

workouts (and, ne, endless booz-

ing) have produced? This morning,

as I, ashen-faced, slumped shoulders,

belly sticking out, held on to a sub-

way pole, about to succumb to my

hangover and two hours of sleep, the

woman in front of me offered me her

seat. Unsolicited! The one other time

this happened to me, it was because

I had just sat down on the oor so I

wouldnt pass out from low blood

sugar. I gured my evident unwell-

ness had now induced similar sympa-

thetic feelings, so I gratefully accept-

ed. As I was sitting down, she made acomment that chilled me to my bone:

Im so sorry! I didnt even notice

you for a few minutes.

Hold up just a second or two. Why

would someone be so apologetic for

not noticing that someone whosehead is clearly not in their normal

line of sight didnt look too well? But

what was in her line of sight was... my

stomach. Did she think I was PREG-

NANT? What. The fucking. Fuck.

But hey, maybe she was a

nurse trained in dehydration. Maybe

she was conducting a sociological

study. Maybe she just really likes

fucking with peoples heads. Maybe

she lives vicariously through random

strangers. Who knows. I may look

like death on a hot plate, but I certain-

ly dont look pregnant*.

A MODESTPROPOSAL

13

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14 RELIGIOUSINNUENDOS

no longer a human right; it was a com-

modity to be taxed, regulated, and profited

from by private, corporate entities.

Tensions between Syria, Iran, and

the rest of the civilized world had come to

a head by late April. The American politi-

cal theatre was a mockery of democracy,

and the current incumbent political regime

was largely apathetic and lethargic in its

foreign and domestic policies, being more

concerned with energizing a somnambu-

lant public in order to raise another round

of campaign funds. Europe, as per usual,

was in economic turmoil due to poor plan-

ning, mismanagement of resources, and

social tension between its many separate

political states; the outdated and self-serv-

ing Papacy spouted hypocritical religious

dogma to an apathetic following. China

stood poised to topple the American Em-

pire as figurehead of the global economy,

while the rest of Asias developing nations

struggled to keep up by hanging onto Chi-

nese coattails. Africas problems were

brushed aside and generally marginalized

as little more than the ungrateful behavior

of post-colonial brats which had squan-

dered the precious gifts given them by thewhite world, a devolved barbarian group

of cultures ridden with famine and disease

because of their wicked, heathen ways.

South and Central America were all but ig-

nored, considered only as an afterthought

to the rest of the worlds problems.

Thus it came that when a ren-egade group of religious zealots from Pal-

estine succeeded in smuggling an atomic

weaponlittle more than an over-looked

and seldom-regarded artifact of the Cold

Warinto the holy center city of Jerusa-

lem in Israel, suddenly every country in

Heebie Jeebies

The year was 2012, that infa-mous doomsday year of the MayanCalendarnot that anyone actually took

stock in that apocalyptic crap; those

who did were generally ridiculed and ig-

nored by the rest of us. Not that even

they could have known that which was

to come.

The world in which I lived was

a cruel, grotesque spectacle of material-

ism and extreme inequality. The Ameri-

can Dream had been digitized into the

latest must-have gadgets and phony

celebrities, while information was re-

garded as a dangerous monster to be

sifted, sorted, edited, delicately pack-

aged with a sugar-coated layer of self-

gratitude made easily digestible, and

sold only to the privileged. While the rest

of the greedy western world stuffed their

faces with salmon pt and garlic-herb

risotto, those ninety percent of poverty-

and disease-stricken peoples did what

they could to eek out a living from the

leftovers and table-scraps. Corporations

not only controlled medicine, govern-

ment, information, technology, and pe-

troleum; they held the reigns to the me-

dia and had made the governments of

the world their puppets in a frantic quest

for global resource domination. Soon

this 1% of the 1% had bought up all of

the available water and mineral rights, il-

legitimately for sale to the highest bidder

by governments in desperate need of

economic stimulus. Drinkable water was

THE FINALCATASTROPHE

OBEY & JESUS SAVES

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though the primary interest in maintain-

ing alliance with these two nations re-

sided mainly in oil resources and military

stratagem. The Red Sea, the Mediter-

ranean, and the Persian Gulf were oc-

cupied by American and British Naval

forces; Kuwait became an Americanmilitary stronghold, an island among a

sea of insurgency, a heavily fortified and

defended outpost from which the NATO

forces could be stationed and deployed.

Armies and weapons were readied. The

stage was set, the world was again on

the brink of war, and the play was aboutto begin.

For many months the recon-

naissance drones of the US Air Force

had been scouting the countries of the

UAS, looking for tactical nuclear weap-

ons manufacturing facilities, though they

found little evidence therein. One facilityin Iran, in particular, held a piqued inter-

est to the Pentagon; it had in aforetime

been suspected and accused of illegally

developing nuclear technology for use in

power and propulsion (as the UN gov-

erned who was allowed access to said

technology). Fearing that the fledgling

alliance would seek to strike the first

blow, Western military leaders agreed

upon a clandestine resolution to the

increasing threat: they would assassi-

nate or depose of the main leaders of

the resistance, chopping off the beasts

head with one swift, decisive sweep.

The attempt failed, the sinister plot was

revealed to the world, and the Western

leaders were exposed to be the power-

hungry, racist, and dystopian heads of

state they had accused the Muslims of

being.

the entire world recoiled in shock, fear,

and panic, though the weapon was

never detonated. Those with control

and power over the United Nations de-

manded that the nations of the Middle

East yield to Western dominance, for

the safety and security of all peoples.Syria, Iran, Iraq, Pakistan, and Pales-

tine, fearing for their sovereignty and an

anti-Islamic control by the powers of the

West, withdrew from the United Nations

and formed a new coalition of political

and military alliance known as the Unit-

ed Arabian States, forgoing their previ-ous membership in the well-meaning

Arab League for a stronger, defensible

coalition of resources and anti-Western

rhetoric. Yemen, Saudi Arabia, Afghani-

stan, Turkey, the UAE, Qatar, Jordan,

Georgia, Azerbaijan, and the Uzbeks

soon followed suit in late September,hoping to boost their own economic

standing and sever ties with the bellig-

erent ruling nations half a world away.

Egypt and Libya, currently engulfed in

political turmoil, became unwitting and

hesitant allies of this new congrega-

tion of nations determined to break free

of the constraints imposed by Western

governments and their rulers; America

and Europe, in just two months, had lost

many invaluable allies.

The UN, at the behest of the

American President and the British and

French Prime Ministers, leveled sanc-

tions against the United Arabian States,

refusing to recognize the new alliance,

and thus, it hoped, to undermine the

leagues legitimacy as a new world pow-

er. By the end of September, all trade to

and from these nations was suspended;

Egypt and Libya were considered to

be special cases by the State Dept., (PART TWO CONTINUED NEXT MONTH)

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16 FORYOURCONSIDERATION

AND NOWA WORD

Man behind the curtain

This is the italicized intro to that word.

I function at my best when I have acreative project driving me. Im an artperson its how I operate. Since Ivebeen stuck in a rut with both my pho-

tography & graphic design, Ive beenneeding a inspirational side project tokeep me sane, productive and rational.

In a quick and roundabout

rundown manner; I used to produce azine with an ex-friend which ended bysaid ex-friend abusing, manipulating,and convincing me all along I was to

blame for their abusive, manipulative,and hypocritical demeanor. Despiteall the heartache brought on by previ-ously mentioned destruction, I foundthe publishing process very stimulat-ing and creative.

SoIguredIwouldgiveitan-other go around. I was excited, yet

alsofearful.CouldIdoit?Andnallythe revelation kicked in once I startedrunning the zine; yes, I can create aplatform of bringing together differentartists & writers and publish a monthlyzine to expose said artists to 300-500people.

And its been a double-edged

sword, both rewarding and painful.The rst fewmonths it took a lot ofwork to cajole people into writing. Ifrequently got an immediate responseof excitement about the magazine, butit was always followed by an excuse oflacking time management.

Wow, that sounds like a greatidea but Ive been working a lotand dont see a lot of free time inthe next 4 weeks.

I want to be published in nextmonths issue but Ive got the kidshere, and I never have the time.

I wish I could send somethingin, but right now my priorities are

work, sleep, and getting laid.

TherstfewmonthsItooktherejec-tion well. I was patient and under-standing. Several people expressed adesire to write but needed consistentreminder of the upcoming deadline. I

accommodated and diligently nudgedthem through the month.After a couple of issues, I was

fortunateenoughtondseveralwrit-ers that not only loved the idea, butalso maintained the obligation of adeadline. For months the zine was atotal ease and extremely enjoyable. Ihad plenty of content to use and couldfocus on the aesthetics of each issueinstead of freaking out at the last min-uteneedingsomethingtollapageorve.

FROM OURSPONSORS

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I usually dont have a problem gettingmaterial for the poetry & prose section.Typically I receive more than I need,and end up having excess that I canuse the following month. Im not surewhy the changing of the season, thecycle of the moon, what was the exactreason but the poems stopped com-ing in.

In the moments when I didnthave the content to publish, I commit-ted a faux pas and printed some po-etry from authors that had submittedpreviously without saying anything tothem. Without asking for permission.

And I feel stupid now looking backbecause why didnt I just ask them forsomething? Was I really that lazy? WasI afraid they would want to, but thennot meet the obligation of a deadline?

Im ashamed to say, but it nev-er really crossed my mind. Its hard todescribe the mindset I have in pub-

lishing mode. My objective is to llthe zine with as much original, thoughtprovoking and diverse things as pos-sible within each months deadlinesimply enough. So when my author/poet friends had published a poem Ireceived in my facebook feed, and itmoved me, I wanted to share that with

myaudiencebase.Iwantedtoatterthe artist and give them the exposure Iknew they deserved.

So it came as somewhat a sur-prise when someone mentioned thezine to said poet, and said poet re-plied, I havent submitted anythingwhat do you mean Im in these is-sues? launching said poet to publiclylambast me, calling me inconsiderateat best, and a thief at worst. That wasa great way to wake up that morning.

And so the logic side of mybrain kicks in and goes, Oh shit, youdid just grab that poem off their face-book page and didnt say anything tothem about it. You dumb shit. leaving

me in the awkward scenario of, yes I

apologize for not asking for your per-mission, yet must also defend myselfwith my true intention and why I didntsteal your poetry.

8 emails, and several wallposts later, I had profusely apologizedfor my actions and also explained theintent; no harm or ill-will was intended,and absolutely no theft or copyrightinfringement had occurred. What, inthe monthly magazine I pay for eachmonth out of my own pocket and dis-tribute freely? It wasnt right of me touse your words without your consent,but I resent the false implication that

Im stealing from you. Has your poemsuddenly disappeared and you cantnditanywhere?Ibetsomeonestoleit! Quick! Freak out and act as imma-ture and libelous as humanly possible!

And it sucks now because likeany time theres an allegation of mis-conduct, an air of distrust settles over

the project. That was not my inten-tional at all. I just wanted to provide amonthly zine full of humor and insight;not leave people with a bad taste intheir mouths and a false image of whata terrible/shitty publisher I am.

Im now back in the mindset ofwhen I did the last zine with my very

clever ex-friend. Im making somethingthat I love putting my energy into, butnow Im afraid of it. Im scared to workon this months issue. Maybe I shouldconvert the whole zine into a comicbook again had a blast when we didthat in October.

Its a rough situation that inhindsight I wish I could change. Ivehaving trouble calming my fears down,and I really want to have the couragetoatleastnishthisyearout.Makingsomething fun and exciting that every-one can enjoy is the only thing I reallywant to accomplish with this projectand I hope I succeed.

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18 CONFESSIONALBOOTH

pants. She was holding a purse un-der one arm and held a smallish bagby its handle in the other. I cantpossibly imagine what her name is.

My eyes blink again and myvision is refocused on the wholescene. Julio and the woman withthe purple pants. My eyebrowstwitch, and start arching upwards asmy jaw starts lowering. What in thegood devils hell am I seeing here?A shambly man holding a chickenand a baby, and an elderly womanplucked right of the 80s. They are

standing right next to each other--an obvious indication they are to-gether-- there is no way any two hu-mans could stand that closely aloneat an intersection together and notknow about it.

Now my brain starts explod-ing again. I now stare blankly at

the two, almost mad at the coinci-dental and mudane cirmustance. Ilook at Julio, the chicken and thebaby. I look at the growingly olderand scarier lady in the purple pants.A disgusted and fearful expressiondisplays upon my face. I am mes-morized as I stare scowling, draw-

ing deeper and deeper into the souldestroying oblivion that is happen-ing on the corner of the intersectionwith Julio and the lady in the purplepants, and the car behind me honks.

I look up at the light in theintersection. Its green and all thetrafc in front of me is gone. I sub-consciously release my foot fromthe break and ease through the in-tersection. I still think about thatchicken and the baby all the time.

With Julio and the lady in the purplepants.

Jesusstuckintrafc

At rst, I hadnt noticedthem at all; Julio with the woman.The sun was glistening on my skin-it was surprising warm for this timeof year, yet felt so pleasantly deli-cious. Good morning midwesterncity. I had been sitting stalled atthis stop light for an indetermin-ably casual amount of time, and

was steeped in the moment, thewarm, the calm. Thats my defensefor carelessly overlooking the sub-plot that was Julio and the lady inthe purple pants standing in theintersection.

Julio had a chicken underone arm, and a baby under the

other. Slump standing in a dingyundershirt, plain khaki pants, andpossibly no shoes. Maybe he waswearing thin sandals? I never ob-served this fact as my eyes weresuddenly transxed on his arms;on the chicken and on the baby.My mind started racing trying to

stitch together the meaningfulcontext. A chicken and a baby?Did he have a stroller for the baby?Did he trade it for the chicken? Isthat chicken dinner? (gasp) Whatif he is taking the chicken and thebaby somewhere to trade themboth? I closed my eyes ponderingthe innite possibilities .

When I opened them I wasstaring at the lady with the purplepants. She looked completely outof scene/sorts; older than Julio,styled and dressed like an elderlywoman from Florida circa 1980s,giant obviously dyed hair, a non-descript shirt, and striking purple

JULIO&THE LADYITH THE PURPLE PANTS

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268THINGS

OVERHEARD

Dusty Bibles lead to Dirty Lives

Come work or the Lord. The work ishard, the hours are long and the pay islow. But the retirement benefts are outo this world.

It is unlikely therell be a reduction inthe wages o sin.

Do not wait or the hearse to take youto church.

I youre headed in the wrong direction,God allows U-turns.

I you dont like the way you were born,try being born again.

Looking at the way some people live,

they ought to obtain eternal fre insur-ance soon.

This is a ch_ _ ch. What is missing?-----> (U R)

Forbidden ruit creates many jams.

In the dark? Follow the Son.

Running low on aith? Stop in or a fll-up.

I you cant sleep, dont count sheep.Talk to the Shepherd.

JESUSOVERHEARD 19

The bible is Gods acebook page.

God loves you whether you like it ornot.

Be an organ donor... give your heart toJesus.

Honk i you love Jesus... text while driv-ing i you want to meet him.

No GodNo Peace. Know GodKnowPeace.

Free Trip to heaven. Details Inside!

Try our Sundays. They are better thanBaskin-Robbins.

Searching or a new look? Haveyour aith lited here!

Have trouble sleeping? We havesermonscome hear one!

People are like tea bagsyou have toput them in hot water beore you knowhow strong they are.

God so loved the world that He did not

send a committee.

Come in and pray today. Beat theChristmas rush!

When down in the mouth, rememberJonah. He came out all right.

Sign broken. Message inside thisSunday.

Fight truth decaystudy the Bible daily.

How will you spend eternitySmokingor Non-smoking?

OBEY & JESUS SAVES

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COVER DESIGN

ANONYMOUS

WRITING STAFF

YETI DETECTIVE

JOSH MOTTE

HEEBIE JEEBIES

MAN BEHIND THE CURTAINDUSTIN WOOD

JESUS STUCK IN TRAFFIC

VELVETEEN

DANIEL A. JONES

BEAUTY SCHOOL DROPOUT

EDITORIAL STAFF

Sergeant Heartstomp - DESIGN

Madame SuperDuper - HOROSCOPES

Killer Jack Attack - ENIGMATIC PROPHET

Peanut Scholar - ORATOR OF THE OBVIOUS

Butchcat-bitchmouth - MORAL SUPPORT

GUEST LIST

VELVETEEN

JOSH MOTTE HEEBIE JEEBIES

YETI DETECTIVE DUSTIN WOOD

THERELIGIONISSUE WHAT WHITE ELEPHANT

This evil nation has smearedfag feces blended with dyke--

fag semen and dyke feces onthe Bible!

Where does the Generalkeep his armies, Fred?

Up his sleevies. Har har

har.

DANIEL A. JONES

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