Take Me Now God! Excerpt 6

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“TAKE ME NOW GOD!”

by Jim Putnam

About the Book

This outrageous “unauthorized” autobiography goes inside the mind of a leading edge baby boomer with a mission, finding the purpose and meaning of life, and his desperate search for answers to life’s mysteries.

There are millions of seekers of truth among us, and if they want a roadmap through the uncharted waters of spiritual and personal evolution, Take Me Now God! traverses the endless maze of opportunity and catastrophe in a way they are not soon to forget.

Nothing is as it seems or as promised. To the author, life is a series of speed bumps and misadventures waiting to derail your train the minute it leaves the station. No stone is unturned in the quest for truth.

The scope of his search is astonishing. From new age to religions, cults to cultures, politicians to psychics, nothing escapes his interest or hilarious rationalization of what can never be rational. Like most of us, the author believes there is a hidden meaning and purpose to his life. But unlike most of us, he pursues his quest with reckless abandon ever faithful that answers lie just around the next turn.

Half a century of endless searching led the author to yet another self-proclaimed “light” person, a member of the enlightened “Illumanati”, where the lights finally went out, thus triggering the author’s demand to God to be taken now!

Humorous satire and cynical wit engulf the targets of his search. There are a multitude of choices waiting to prey on the unsuspecting seeker, and the author leaves them strewn in shambles in his wake.

How he manages to explore the dizzying array of often conflicting choices and still remain sane, should that be your conclusion, is a wonder. He holds a mirror up to our faces, then makes us laugh at how seriously we take ourselves. God knows we need a laugh, we are way too serious, and Take Me Now God! is just the antidote for survival in the 21st century.

Before you set out on your own search for meaning in life, read this book. It will save you time, trouble, money and sanity. But set your beliefs aside as none will survive the scathing quest of the author intact. Prepare yourself for a spiritual, metaphysical journey unlike any you’ve ever experienced exploring the lighter side of light and dark in the hapless quest for enlightenment.

You won’t stop laughing. You won’t stop reading. And the disastrous experiences of the author may help you find a better way.


Excerpt 6


CHANNELS

Having worked in the television industry in New York City, and I know I was a TV insider because once I was on the set of All My Children, my idea of channels was what you got when you pushed the remote control. And boy did cable TV ever change the landscape of the world of channels.

Still, not being born entirely stupid, I was aware of the metaphysical channels as well. Even my Jewish-Adept knew channels, so I figured they couldn’t be all bad. There were a sprinkling of them for a while, like Seth, Ramtha, and a host of other weird named characters intent on leading people somewhere.

That was before the New Agers took over. Suddenly the sprinkling became a blizzard and we are left with mystical channels on about every street corner of the civilized world. Yet another sign of the sophistication of our culture. So I followed them with more than a casual interest.

Back in 1990 I went to a channeler for the first time. Thought it was high time for a personal investigation of this phenomena. In truth, I kind of wanted to bond with my own personal channel. See just how important I might be to the other world, those overseers in the spiritual dimension. I expected to hear from Michael the Archangel, maybe Peter the apostle, maybe even the man himself, Jesus. No doubt someone very important was waiting to guide me.

The destiny of civilization was in my hands and my own super star channel would fill me in. Actually I didn’t go to the channel. Seems the spiritual world needn’t be bothered with such things as being there. They’re kind of like the phone company in that regard. Bring things together. They use electrical pulsing signals of some inter-dimensional frequency I guess. But the physical person is merely the conduit for the spiritual guru from afar. My contact was in Portland.

So I called. At my expense too. You’d think otherworld channels could have figured out how to beat the phone company out of long distance charges. Not as smart as the ghetto gangs and illegal immigrants who mastered it long ago. Still, I spent over an hour in my first encounter. Got it all on tape.

So just who was my famous other world guide or mystical channel? Not Jesus. Or Michael. Not even Peter. None of the aforementioned or imagined. Oh no, in four sessions during the ensuing years there was Kal, Kim Son, Mariam, Benjamin, James, Sienna, Tamal and Maca. Who the hell are these characters? What did I do wrong? Tune in to the comedy channel?

I thought they were supposed to come through one at a time, like Ramtha. So why did it take up to three at a time to communicate with me? Must have been a really stupid human. Shit, I got an inter-dimensional party line. And new ones were sent in every session. Never got the same guide twice. Seemed odd since the best selling channels were the same dude dropping into the studio to record a series of tapes, videos or books every time.

Felt cheated at first. Like they were using me as a lab rat for training wannabe channels. Like a doctor interning I guess. So I get the trainees. Soon as the big guys thought these junior channels had their act together, by experimenting on me, they sent them on and moved in another new class.

Then concluded that it wasn’t really an insult to me, but an honor, to have a committee of spirit guides. Didn’t really mean that I was so hopelessly worldly that I needed an entire emergency metaphysical trauma team. No, and it was important for me to rationalize this, I had multiple channels because I absorb so much so fast. The human computer. Remotes were blazing in both hands.

I got lots of good information. Even got stuff no one else ever heard before. Ever try to prove channeled information? You don’t. Oh you can make some effort to prove the little tidbits of premonitions. Like who is going to get killed. The latest combatants to declare war. Stuff like that. And even then it requires a very liberal translation.

I’m still trying to figure out what Nostradamus really meant when he said France will fall on it’s ass in the mud, or something like that. People interpret things in the strangest ways. Books have been written how it was a secret code and the prophecy really foretold the outbreak of the first world war, or the second world war, or even the third world war. Maybe the death of John Kennedy, Marilyn Monroe, James Dean or Elvis.

Where do they come up with that crap? I want real proof. Give me the winning numbers to next week’s Powerball lottery and I’ll be a true believer for the rest of my annuities. Those damn lotteries. Why is it there are only a few thousand possible combinations of winning numbers, yet the odds of winning are 12 million to one? Where does that math come from? Pythagoras in a drunken stupor?

So I mostly keep my channeled information to myself. Haven’t figured out how to capitalize on it yet, and it ain’t good information until it turns a profit. Isn’t that the metaphysical way? How could I ever compete with Sammy and the gang of new and improved television channels? They are replacing the now infamous television ministers. Not enough of them left out of jail to keep up the ratings.

New Age channels seem to all be men, yet they have one other advantage over me. All the channel stars only appear through the bodies of great looking chicks. Far more photogenic than some over-the-hill jock like me. Must be channel transvestites. Something about a man’s husky voice and bawdy street slang emitting from a woman that bothers me. Hard to take it as God’s word. Must be part of the test of faith.

So it’s back to my safe world of television channels. Give me Fox any day. Hell, as bad and bizarre as television programming has become, maybe all the TV channels are channeled entities too. That would explain a lot of things.

LATE LAST NIGHT

Late last night I turned on the TV
to see what the world had to say
as I watched in wonder
I was saddened by what happened today

Seems the longer that we live here together
the harder that it is to survive
there’s so much hate and so much hurt
so many reasons not to try

Far to the east the hand of God
reminds us of the limits of man
one swift blow from an angry earth
humbled a world, shattered our plan

Rains and floods and hurricanes
fires and those other things
once again remind us we’re
just visiting here so it seems

Bombs rain down in Russia
Europe and the middle east
what I saw made no sense
in the holy land of the man of peace

Everywhere were hungry children
millions of them had no homes
old people driven from the land of their fathers
as the march of mankind goes on

If death and destruction didn’t get them
then a killer disease just might
somehow all those pictures that flashed
on my screen didn’t seem to be right

Politicians promised to save us
preachers promised more of the same
but the hurt and hate and fear they showed
made it all just a game

And as I watch the picture
on my screen, on my TV
I wonder is this how our world
is meant to be

Whatever happened to brotherhood
whatever happened to the common good
whatever happened to the dreams
of a better land

And as I ponder on this world I see
I know it’s really not for me
don’t think this is what a God
somewhere had in mind

He asked us to return his love
and love our fellow man
but what I see on my TV
seems to have gotten out of hand





PAST LIVES

The Ex made me feel guilty a lot. She was always talking about her past lives. When I told her I didn’t really remember any of mine, she looked at me like I was some freak. As if she couldn’t imagine how in the world an ancient friend like me, (her description), could have no memory of past lives. I got bits and pieces sometimes, at least I thought I did, but I never got any revelations in full length motion picture Technicolor with Dolby surround sound.

Was having a particularly bad night one evening. Felt like the poster boy for the suicide hot line. The mouthwash could no longer get rid of the foul taste in my palate or pounding in my head. May have to switch brands. Didn’t know there was that much difference in tequilas.

Half a bottle later I found myself melting into the chair as I sat in a stupor watching Mr. B jumping around the room like a 200 pound banshee. Kind of like watching one of those humongous sumo wrestlers dressed in a tutu performing Swan Lake. His pirouettes were shaking the house to its foundation.

Seemed like the perfect time, perfect place, and perfect mind set for another stab at the past life connection. It had only been 30 years since I first tried to make the journey, 30 years of consistent failure. Used every trick in the book and none worked. Equal opportunity failure.

After many attempts over the years using meditation, chanting, drumming and astral travel, to mention but a sampling, I decided to try visualization. It was new, I was old, and the mouthwash was starting to work. Besides, the sumo had collapsed in a heap after a particularly ungraceful series of moves.

Thought it might help if I picked a place where I was sure to have been in the distant past. France or England sounded cool. They were old. Odds were if I’d had past lives, I would have been at one or both places. Besides, I’d always felt claustrophobic around the neck, could never button my dress shirts because of it, so figured I must have been in France during the guillotine heydays.

Another shot of medicine and I was sailing off to the inter-dimensional repository of metaphysical memories. Nicknamed it the “Dead Bank”. I mean it was all stuff you were supposed to have experienced before your last death.

First I popped in the film of France for visualization. Really my imagination. And there I was, drifting through the beautiful French countryside. There were people around, speaking French. A very pleasing and melodic language. Didn’t understand a damn word. How does that work anyway when you see past lives? Do you understand the old languages or is there some celestial translator slipping in English subtitles?

Don’t know if they saw me, I might have been traveling too fast. or maybe I was invisible. I half expected them to see me somehow, maybe like some kind of angel, transparent and glimmering in the summer breeze. Next thing I knew I was in the courtyard of a very old estate, beautiful gardens all around, and an even more beautiful Frenchwoman gliding down the stone walkway toward me. It was a young Bridgette Bardot. Some past life. More like a present fantasy.

Yet another shot to clear my head. No more France. Bridgette was not going to release me to the past. And it sucked not understanding what they were saying. Hell, they could have been talking behind my back or in front of my face about me and I wouldn’t have a clue.

Off to jolly old England. At least I might know what they were saying. There were stone fences and castles everywhere. Big crowds of people wandering around. Must have been about the only day that year it didn’t rain. And that cute little English accent. I could listen to English girls talk for hours that way.

This might just be it. Maybe Victorian days. Could Cromwell, or Shakespeare, or maybe even the master alchemist Francis Bacon be around the next corner? The anti-freeze was pumping through my heart, racing as I scoured the countryside searching for myself in the distant past.

Perhaps one of the mystical druids at Avebury Circle. Maybe the brains behind Stonehenge. Better yet, the crafty old wizard, Merlin. I knew I was Merlin before. Not just anyone could make Arthur a king. That sounded like a public relations task worthy of my time and energy.

I was transported into an enchanted forest. Massive Oak trees towered overhead. A brook bubbled nearby. Could almost sense the fairies buzzing through the branches. Faintly, at first, I heard someone moving through the woods toward me. A movement of such grace the grass merely nodded as she merrily made her way.

Birds sang out in joyous tribute. All the forest creatures silently moved to greet her. And then, from around the trunk of the mightiest of all Oak trees in the forest, she broke into the clear. I’ll be damned if it wasn’t Hayley Mills, little Miss Pollyanna herself. Yet another of my favorite film idols of the past. But like Bridgette, not past enough.

Why is it the psychics and channelers remember these hundreds of my past lives and I don’t remember a one? Oh sure, I go places and things look familiar. Happened when I went to Virginia. Then in England, Ireland, Wales, Scotland, even Russia. Matter of fact, every place I went outside the United States it happened. What’s that tell you?

That I studied the shit out of the places I was visiting. That I paid attention in history and western civilization classes. Saw lots of movies about the old days. Read lots of books. Had one hell of a vivid imagination. Any and all of the above. But not a damn shred of evidence that I actually lived then.

That troubling mystery was finally solved for me one night when I got yet another blast from the alien implant and remembered more stuff. You recall the 144,000 soldiers of God from Revelations? Well that was a biblical misprint. It was supposed to be 144, not 144,000. And it wasn’t soldiers of God, it was the number of realms in this dimension.

And the prophet Elijah wasn’t Elijah at all but Albert Einstein, talking about the time space continuum. What he was saying was there were 144 realms in the 3rd dimension, of which 24 were earth realms. Since there was no time in space, or space in time, all these realms were the past, present and future and they were all taking place at the same time.

Therefore, your past lives were taking place now, along with your present and future lives. And you were living 144 of them at once, 24 in the flesh. Of course my theory left a shambles of evolution and made the chronological sequencing of history a joke. But it explained a lot of mysteries. Was as unlikely an answer as any other explanations I heard. And you didn’t have to buy books, tapes or videos to share the insight.

Who needs past lives when you can have Bridgette Bardot? Come to think of it, by the time Bridgette was done with you, there wouldn’t be enough of you left for worrying about past lives.

The New Agers say you create your own reality, live your own illusions. Take it from me, that means we have all been all the most famous people in history. Six billion souls have shared being King Tut, Shakespeare, Cleopatra, King Arthur, Beethoven, whoever the hell you want to be. Why would you want to be anyone less than that?

MEMORIES FADE AWAY

Memories of places
I once knew along the way
childhood dreams those strange things
we created to help us make it through the day

Memories of days long gone
they’re fading in our past
you say it’s time to give them up
I always thought they’d last

A memories like an old friend
a picture fixed in time
no matter where I go from here
the memories always mine

And through the years it’s with you
you think of yesterday
memories are all that’s left
now those memories fade away

Memories of times
I once knew yesterday
times I shall remember
when fantasies would guide our way

Memories that won’t let go
they won’t let me forget
of a distant dream I lived once
now my match I’ve finally met

EARTH’S FREQUENCY

It wouldn’t do much good to just leave behind a lot of senseless babble so I have to discuss some of the ancient knowledge that I have been given. Let’s start with the change in the Earth’s frequency. If you haven’t heard of this you best pay attention.

Ancient prophecies talk about it, strange aliens like the Pleiadians channel the information all the time. The government scientists are aware of a photon band that the Earth has entered. Even the Virgin Mary got into the act talking about the solar-cosmic explosion that will be affecting us soon.

What does it all mean? Well, it seems there is a massive field of radiation hanging around out in space and we are about to enter it. We do this about once every 25,000 years or so. The Hopi call it the Purification when Earth goes through it. The end of a cycle of civilization. We are about to wrap up the 4th cycle right now.

The Earth is rising in frequency. That seems to be a scientific fact. For thousands of years Earth resonated at a 7.8 Hz frequency. About 1980 it started changing and now it has risen to 12 Hz. Author Gregg Braden on earth and a host of Pleiadians in space also say as we enter this photon band, the rotation of the Earth is slowing as the frequency is increasing.

At the same time, the Earth’s magnetic field is declining, having lost up to half of it’s intensity in the past 4,000 years according to Professor Bannerjee in New Mexico. So we have a photon band, increasing Earth frequency, slowing of the Earth rotation, and the magnetic field is declining.

When the frequency reaches 13 Hz, sometime in the next couple of years or sooner, the rotation will stop. Earth will not rotate for three days. If you happen to be on the night side of Earth when it stops, you have three days of darkness, another popular prophecy. Then it will start rotating again, only the opposite direction this time. There seems to be scientific evidence of a reversal in the Earth’s electromagnetic field numerous times in the past.

The increase in frequency gives the impression of speeding up time. By the time the next year rolls around we should feel the full effects of the Quickening, yet another great term from ancient knowledge, prophecies or channels. The effect on the human body of the change from 7.8 to 13 Hz in the frequency is like compressing 24 hours into a 16 hour day.

Everyone I talk to seems to have noticed time is speeding up. There is never enough time to do this or that. But that always seemed the case to me. Can’t really blame bad time management on the Quickening when we had centuries of experience wasting time.

On the other hand, the speed up does concern me because that means we are losing one third of time that used to be available. It also means when I am 60 I will really be 80. I was hoping it would go the other way, I’d get younger instead of older. By the way, all this is taking place right now, not some point far into the future.

Another key component of the raising of frequency is that the human body has to increase in frequency to survive the change on Earth and the effects of the photon field. So, we change by having our DNA altered from a double helix to a 12 strand DNA. Now that is something else. Of course in the entire history of the universe it has not happened like this before so I guess even the angels, aliens and their channels are having a tough time anticipating how that will work.

If you start to experience aches for no reason, or searing pains in your muscles, or stress when there isn’t stress, these are indications of the Quickening and the beginning of the restructuring of your DNA. It’s not real clear to me whether the dramatic change in our DNA will result in improved humans or mutant monsters, but we shall see.

Any way, you want evidence? If one of your friends head explodes some night at the bar consider it proof positive. If the Earth stops rotating like the prophecies say, that is a sign. When you start to greet the sun rising in the west, that is a sign. It’s a great excuse for premature aging or graying if you need it. Just say, “It’s the Quickening.” Or “just altering the DNA.”

I liken it to Earth going through inter-dimensional child birth. Only happens like this every 26 billion years or so. It’s here, no doubt about it. Can’t be proven either. Those that know don’t want you to know.

The Quickening can mess up your mind, cause you all kinds of problems. Yet another reason to believe. An excuse for everything you do wrong. “Sorry honey, I didn’t do that, it was the Quickening.” Tell that to my Ex.

Now the bad stuff. From the Bible to Nostradamus, the Hopi to the Virgin, this Quickening is not going to be all that great a time. Depending on who you listen to, up to 2/3 of the population will not make it through the change. The ones that do move on to a higher dimension take their purified planet Earth with them.

The rest get stuck on the old Earth to start over in the 5th cycle of civilization. This whole process is called the Purification by the Hopi and others. The end result is a new Earth free of fear where you can materialize your dreams in the 4th dimension. One of many parallel universes I have discovered. Or the same old shit all over again back here in the 3rd dimension.

When you think it all through, if you have nothing better to do, you might just share my conclusion. If we have to go through all that and as few as 1/3 will survive, total nuclear destruction almost sounds preferable. I mean, these people that are going to ascend can hardly be hurt by a bomb blast.

JUST ME

The game of life I’m going to play
I can’t get out can’t find a way
and if I lose then I won’t win
and if I do I’ll start again

Just let me be to be alone
I can’t be bought, can’t be owned
content to live but not so high
content to fade, until I die

You know I won’t be understood
and can’t be judged as bad or good
I’m me and who could ask for more
just me is all I’m searching for...





NEW MADRID EARTHQUAKE

There are things we want to think about, pleasant day dreams, and there are things that haunt the soul. The first is a pleasing thought or a fond memory, while the latter is like an unrelenting nightmare in which you know there is truth and the truth is something you refuse to accept.

I get those thoughts at times. For years I had them about the New Madrid earthquake fault, the one along the Mississippi River where Missouri, Illinois, Kentucky and Tennessee come together. The place where the Ohio River empties into and swells the Mississippi River into a massive force of nature.

Three of the largest quakes to ever hit this country happened at that point, dwarfing anything California ever dreamed about. In a matter of a few weeks the heart of the midwest was rocked by a series of quakes measuring 8.1, 8.2 and 8.4, rattling dishes and ringing church bells as far away as Montreal, Boston and Atlanta. Power such as we have never seen unleashed in this land.

Fortunately it happened between 1811 and 1812, when few people lived in the area. But the threat of a follow up act has been building ever since. And now there are millions of people in the damage zone. Since high school when I used to go work the sand bag lines during flooding on the Mississippi the river has drawn me in. Mark Twain lived just down river from Iowa, in Hannibal, Missouri.

But it was the raw power I felt in that river that drew me in. A power the Corp of Engineers kept trying to harness with their dams and locks. I would sit along the river for hours fishing or just watching the current, listening to the secrets. Knowing the day would come when that power was once again unleashed and humans would be humbled. That was before I knew anything about the New Madrid quakes.

Over the years I studied, and I learned, and I built up a lot of information on the New Madrid. If people would listen I warned them. But no one wanted to hear. Finally, years later, the New Agers and channels discovered the secret and began spouting warnings. The massive floods early in the 1990’s woke up a few more people, floods the size of several states. Floods that happened after all the flood control work was done. Mother Earth’s wake up call to the fools that thought they controlled nature.

People still didn’t appreciate the danger they faced. A few weeks ago I was talking to a psychic, one in Kentucky. She told me we weren’t safe here. She said there would be a massive earthquake and that the Mississippi River would split down the middle. There would be death and destruction all along the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers. I agreed. Been seeing the same things for years.

So I had her talk to my Ex. The Ex used to live on the Mississippi in Illinois. Thought she should know about the threat, in case she wanted to get the rest of her family out of there. That was when our relationship became every bit the disaster of the earthquake. That was the end times for us. And that was when she moved out of Kentucky.

Oh yes, she and the psychic concluded they were not safe in Kentucky. Too close to the Mississippi. So the psychic moved to Chicago. The Ex moved back home. To her house high on a hill overlooking the very same Mississippi River. The one soon to wreak havoc on the unsuspecting public. She used to be a couple of hundred miles from the river. Now she can slide down the hill into it. Is that what enlightened advice does for you? How odd.

SEEK TOMORROW

Through communication and understanding
of others we have access to collective knowledge
which we could never assemble individually.

The knowledge of the ages awaits
the person who seeks it...

THE MUSES

You know I always dreamed the highlight of my life would be the time when two of the best looking girls in the universe were vying for my affection. One was a flaming red heat, with a stunning explosion of long, curly locks flowing wildly in all directions. Eyes of deep emerald greener than the lush fields of Ireland. Exceptional body and muscle tone as if she were a blend of a prima ballerina and fine-tuned marathon runner.

At first glance she might appear shy. But once she felt comfortable with you, as if you had to pass some type of litmus test or something, she was delightfully conversational. Animated and exasperating at times, she could charm the coldest of characters with her dazzling personality and melt their hearts with her blazing intensity. Strong. Fiercely independent. Rock solid loyal. Right out of the ancient Celtic days.

And the other one was an absolute dichotomy, but in an unforgettable way. Quiet, shy, she seemed almost ashamed of her classic features that would have been the envy of any of the master painters. Petite with shimmering brown hair stretching all the way down to her waist, she flowed with grace and dignity. Her heart of gold touched everyone, made them feel comfortable, and needed. Her smile could light a room in the middle of the darkest night.

Had I constructed a pair of the perfect tens in my imagination, they could not have improved on the two real ones in my life’s memories of what had never been. Either would have been the catch of the century, even for the richest and noblest of people. For one of my station in life they were not just a step beyond my dreams but I should have been stoned for having the audacity to even imagine myself with them.

I called them Spitfire and the Lady. Given time and opportunity I would have loved either of them deeply, anyone in their right mind would have done so. But to have both of these fantasies vying for one’s attention was beyond my ability to comprehend.

What either saw in me was a mystery. Guys were falling all over each other for the chance to take them out. Parents looked on them as the perfect daughter-in-law. We were not from the same social circle. They had one, I didn’t. By my standards they were rich, cultured, and classy. I must have been a total enigma. Perhaps that was what attracted them.

I was the rebel. Undisciplined and fearless. Ready to take on the world or a bottle of tequila, whichever happened to be in front of me at the moment. Raw energy. Always pushing the envelope and walking the tightrope. To the uninformed I was dangerous. A volcano ready to erupt any moment. In truth I had harnessed that energy long before and channeled it when needed.

Either Spitfire or the Lady would have been a dream come true. But I was a mere mortal not worthy of seeing dreams materialize for real. Therefore I was convinced I never had a chance with either of them.

I pushed them away. When they gave me second and third chances I continued to push them away. “Idiot” was branded on my forehead. Yet I knew if I ever tried to like either, something would happen and I would be crushed.

Fortunately for me I never got the chance to be hurt. It was something I didn’t need to experience. For you see, both the Spitfire and the Lady were never more than figments of my imagination. Phantom friends for all those long, lonely nights. I’ll probably miss them when I’m gone.

LOST NO REWARD

Lost, yesterday, twenty-four hours that are gone.
Each containing sixty beautiful minutes.
Time that could have been shared
as it was meant to be, with you.
But yesterday is lost,
and no reward is offered...

Take Me Now God! Excerpt #5

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The Myths

ILLUMINATI

My Ex was one of the Illuminati, the chosen ones given spiritual enlightenment. At least some of what they were given seemed to be enlightenment. Many people claim to be part of the group. Don’t believe them. They don’t know.

I’ve been hanging around them since long before she was born. Psychics. Channelers. Crystal Gazers. Bible Belters. (Yes, them too). Wiccans. Druids. Witches and warlocks. If but a fraction of them were truly connected to the Almighty as they claimed I’d of been saved long ago. But here I am, sinking in the cesspool of life. Doesn’t say much for what they told me.

Some seem more legit than others. She was. But the legit ones only attract the evil charlatans. They prey on each other, always looking for something to give people to believe. Control freaks. Think they control minds too. She was surrounded by the sharks from the minute she came out of the closet with her enlightenment.

Like a virgin at an orgy. Coveted. Lusted after. Innocent. That’s how I found her up in Canada. Made the mistake of coming between her and a misguided shaman interested in more than her visions. I always was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Didn’t think much of him at first. So I didn’t pay any attention. Just ignored everything he tried to say and do. Had no idea he was getting so upset with me. Then she showed up, with her husband in tow. That’s when I noticed the twisted shaman start to focus on her.

He was shrouding her in delusion. Like a sorcerer’s evil spell. She was vulnerable, and helpless against his power. I could sense her sinking into his control. And I still hadn’t even met her. I don’t like games like that, when people don’t know they are pawns. So I changed the game table.

Threw a few psychic moves of my own to block the twisted shaman. Two years later I’m still feeling the aftermath of enraging him and interrupting his seduction. The path from then till now is littered with shattered lives and broken dreams. That is the vindictive power of these creatures from hell. Of course, she says I’m one of them, I should know.

Rule number one. Never piss off a practioner of black magic. Vengeance consumes them. They destroy everything around you in order to break you. Take away everything you have. Plant seeds of suspicion and doubt. Undermine trust. Strip you of faith. That’s what happens when you cross a supposedly enlightened one.

Later I discovered he’d been stalking her from Mexico to Canada. Maybe through multiple lifetimes, depending on your awareness of truth. Innocence attracts evil. Light attracts dark. She was the main course for dinner and I switched the meal on him.

The Illuminati are a strange bunch. Hard to tell the difference between the brilliance of the Rapture and the brilliance of a nuclear explosion. Both bathe the world in blinding light. Either way you’re out of here. And either way the earth is better off without you.

We were at a traditional Indian gathering of Illuminati in Canada. I wasn’t one. Just there to record and film it. At the Algonquin Indian reservation. Indigenous people of peace. Of course, with most of the Algonquin tribe up there being Christian, I always wondered about that. Nothing traditional about Christian beliefs, not that I have anything against the Christians. They could judge and condemn as good as anyone.

Few weeks later saw her in Washington, DC, at an Indian prayer gathering. More traditional this time, if there is such a thing in the nation’s capitol. At least it was the place to go where prayer was most needed. Then the shaman appeared again. When he saw me there, quite unexpectedly I might add, he was furious.

Obviously I stood in the way of him and his golden prize, yet again. It was quite innocent on my part. I was there to meet with a former Russian spy. Doesn’t everyone do that? Stopped by the teepees in the shadow of the Washington Monument to hear a Hopi Indian speak. Wasn’t even sure she’d be there.

Years before I stood in the same place and looked out over the tents filling the shadows of the Washington Monument. It was Resurrection City, put up by the followers of Martin Luther King. Was there when he made the “I had a dream” speech. Friend of mine worked for him. Back when I had dreams too.

Shamans are strange creatures. They have power, but their intent guides it’s use. If they are pure hearts, the power is white magic. If they are two hearts, the power is black magic. Many can be both, using and misusing their power depending on their mood. Others remain always trapped in the blackness. That was her friend. But he shielded her from seeing the truth.

I would pay many times over for interfering with his evil work. In the end, he would win. His illusions were that strong, his will was that powerful, and his allies were that dark. Me, I was on my own. He was able to use the Illuminati against me. I never tried to use them. Guess I learned the hard way.

Yes, there is good and evil in all. Even the enlightened ones. Knew a Lakota Medicine Man once, several in fact. Did a few ceremonies with them. Then one went to jail for murdering his wife. After spending years healing people, he turned and killed.

The old man told me it was a lesson for me. Listen, very carefully, to all you hear. Observe, very carefully, all you see. But never be told what to believe. Take what rings true and discard the rest. Never believe it all. For we are all flawed in ways we don’t understand ourselves. Even the holiest among us is still human.

So I listen. I observe. I read. And I study. But I don’t necessarily believe. That comes later, after I’ve assembled and sorted enough information. And I never forgot the old man’s advice. Even the holiest among us is human. And all humans have egos.

The New Age of enlightened beings. The Illuminati. Often caught up in their own delusional hysteria. Demanding to be heard. Demanding to be followed. Judging others as they don’t want themselves judged. Know how to tell the difference between a fraudulent Illuminati and enlightened one? You can’t.

WE REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO

Who is this person I see
talking about things so precious to me
what makes them think that one moment in time
they’d know everything, find perfect rhyme

When it’s taken us centuries to lose what we knew
teaching and healing, and wisdom too
heartaches and pain they just don’t understand
like the God they destroyed who once ruled our land

Our children and grandchildren don’t speak our tongue
why don’t we see the harm that we’ve done
yet we dress in our beads, feathers, dream catchers too
and really don’t know what to do
Where are the elders the spiritual core
shamans and medicine people and more
eagles and hawks bringing wisdom to bear
words we’ve forgotten to hear, words we’ve forgotten to hear
What is it we think we know
if the spiritual leaders don’t know which way to go
what makes us think we know the way
when we don’t know how the Indians pray

We’ve taken their God and we’ve taken their land
taken their children, made them disband
stolen their hopes, given them fear
lost ancient wisdom for all of those years

So we think if we act and we dress like them too
it will heal all the centuries of heartache they knew
and we dress in our beads, feathers dream catchers too
and really don’t know what to do

Where are the elders the spiritual core
shamans and medicine people and more
eagles and hawks bringing wisdom to bear
words we’ve forgotten to hear, words we’ve forgotten to hear

LOVE

Now here is an area where I have demonstrated under achievement. Love, the worst of all four letter words. But love got me to the end, so I might as well take a stab at it. If for no other reason than one last time I want to desecrate the meaning of it, as she says I have all my life.

This is what a shrink might say about me and love. You felt rejected as a child. Never got enough attention. Then, becoming enchanted by Shakespeare’s definition of love in his plays, had such an unrealistic standard of love, that it could never be achieved in your life. Love, to you, was an unending series of betrayals. Hell, even your hero King Arthur was betrayed in love by his beloved Guinevere and Lancelot.

Thus, I was incapable of understanding the meaning of love, incapable of feeling loved, and incapable of loving. And the shrink may be partly right. For years my definition of love shifted. From fairy tale idealism to brutal reality. I never really expected to find love. And I wasn’t disappointed.

There was grade school love. Only time I remember being in love in grade school was when I heard this cute, but diminutive 6th grader singing the song “Bells of St. Marys” in the school play. Didn’t matter what she looked like. I was in 8th grade anyway and would be gone the next year. But her voice was magical and that I fell in love with. Along with the guts it took her to perform in front of all those people. Funny how a lifelong interest in the performing arts starts with a 6th grader singing.

By high school I was falling in love at the drop of a hat, at least my version. Any reason was good enough for falling in love. Cute. Charming. Good legs. Better body. Nice tan. Fun loving. Older and mature. Smart. Well, maybe not smart. Even crazy. I was in love at least until the next day and I sobered up.

Love was a series of misfortunes and misadventures. Didn’t seem to be a lot of depth or substance. Didn’t seem necessary. It was always so shallow. But I was observing. The country club crowd and their rampant wife swapping. That was love? Rich kids seducing poor kids from the other side of the tracks. Greasers seducing nice girls with their macho act. Wannabe cheerleaders seducing players in a senseless game to win popularity votes. Everybody wanted something and were willing to give whatever they had to get it.

You might say I had a quite tainted idea of love by then. I looked for it everywhere and found it nowhere. Then came college, where I vowed to not be in love and wasn’t. Then marriage. Where I vowed to be in love and still wasn’t. No, love was not a key player in my life.

And then, after about 50 years, I began to question my own concept of love. Was it really about two people? Was it about sharing with each other, intimately, as in emotionally and physically? Was it about making love? I’d always had this notion that making love was a sacred act.

All those years reading the Bible and it never occurred to me when Jesus talked about love, it might mean something besides physical contact. So I studied the issue relentlessly, as I always did. Slowly a new picture of love began to emerge far removed from anything I ever thought about or studied before.

To this day it remains a mystery, but I think I made progress in understanding. It was never really about physical contact, or even the bond between two people. Yes, there can be a bond of love between two people. And yes, there is the sacred act of making love. There is even the love between parent and child, family and friends. But that is not the secret.

Love is not a state of mind. Love is a state of being. Love can not be allocated, it is. If you really love, you love everything and everyone. You recognize the life force in everything and love it for being here and available to you. You love the Mother Earth and sun as much as your mate. When you can love another’s child as much as your own child, you begin to live love. Until you live love completely, you don’t live at all.

When I first began to understand, I figured I was nuts. In the first place, I recognized my limitations in both knowledge and experience when it came to knowing about love. I’d only found it in books. Maybe a few movies. But not in reality. Still, I pondered the question as all good ponderers do. If you knew all the answers there wouldn’t be any questions. What fun is that?

SOMETHING WAS WRONG

Beautiful dreamer am I
though in my life I’m lonely and blue
when I look back on the road that I’ve traveled
I couldn’t find my way back to you

I guess I took the wrong crossroads one day
had so many choices to make
now I want to find my way home
I’m so tired of being alone

Was a fool I just couldn’t see
what you had in store what waited for me
didn’t know as I made my way
I walked down that path I drifted each day

Yet I walked in emptiness something was wrong
now I know that something was gone
and I longed to find it some day
I just didn’t know was the day I’d find you

Beautiful dreamer am I
though in my life I’m lonely and blue
when I look back on the road that I’ve traveled
I couldn’t find my way back to you

I guess I took the wrong crossroads one day
had so many choices to make
now I want to find my way home
I’m so tired of being alone

Now I pray please show me the way
help me to find my way on this day
cause I know I’m wasting my time
no joy can I find when I haven’t found you

And I’ll never be happy until I find you
cause there’s so many lessons to learn
and I’ll never walk by your side
until I can hear your words that are true
those words that I’m hearing from you

Beautiful dreamer am I
though in my life I’m lonely and blue
when I look back on the road that I’ve traveled
I couldn’t find my way back to you

I guess I took the wrong crossroads one day
had so many choices to make
now I want to find my way home
I’m so tired of being alone

THE RAPTURE

There are a lot of interesting things in the spiritual world, but of all of them, the Rapture wins hands down. Think about it, the optimum lift off. The ultimate high. No more bills. No more taxes. The final transformation out of the 3rd dimension to something higher, we think. Though anything could be higher after seeing what I’ve seen.

Still, the Rapture is the stuff of legends. Has to be since no one has really been through it and come back to report. Read about a lot of people claiming to have been there, in near death experiences, or visions. Hell, even the Ex was there. She did the right thing though. Said 3rd dimension words couldn’t describe the feeling, the sight or the sound. Kind of gets one off the hook.

I know something about the Rapture most people don’t. Came to me like most of the ancient knowledge I get. Brain implants. No other way to explain them. One minute I know nothing about something, the next minute I understand everything about it. And I didn’t read a book, see a video, or learn from someone. Zap, it’s just there.

For the longest time I thought some kind of UFO implant was doing it. Long before it was popular I thought I’d been abducted. Was driving across southern Colorado one night on my way to Arizona. Thought I saw something unusual in the sky off toward the mountains. Took a harder look at the glowing object.

Next thing I knew an hour was gone and I was no more than a few miles down the road. First I thought it was LSD flashbacks from the ‘60’s. Then remembered I never took drugs. So whenever I got some new insight I’d blame it on the UFO abduction. Drove my dentists crazy over it. Every time I went in for a root canal or crown I told them to search for an alien implant. I needed the evidence. Figured it would get me on Fox TV.

But getting the Rapture information was different. I was studying the stuff, just recently, when it came to me. When I study I bury myself in information. Between bookstores, my library, and the internet, there isn’t much you can’t find out. So I got on a Rapture kick and wanted to know what it was all about.

I read an article about the Shroud of Turin, the one Christ was supposedly wrapped in when they took him down from the cross. Some scientists studying it said the image was as if his body had been on the cloth and it was bombarded by massive radiation, as in a nuclear explosion.

Now that got my attention. I studied nuclear stuff a lot. Part of my disaster training. I even got a license from the Atomic Energy Commission, that’s what they called it before the Department of Energy, a license to handle radioactive materials. I wanted to know what to expect if a nuclear reactor had a melt down or blew up. Also part of my disaster training.

Anyway, that report got me thinking. Maybe we were looking at the whole rising from the dead episode wrong. Maybe there was a higher meaning waiting to be found. Something completely different than what we thought. I explored option after option and came up empty handed. But I absorbed a ton of information and information has a way of rearranging itself once it gets into my head.

Think my brain is like a giant computer. I just absorb information. Don’t necessarily try to figure out what it means. That comes later. First I try to absorb anything and everything. Figure if I collect enough shit some sense will come of it. I dump all the stuff into a vat, stir it up, and out it comes with entirely different meanings.

That’s what happened with the Rapture. All that stuff just re-sorted and out came the answer. When I got it I knew I was on to something. Tried to explain it a couple of times and the people looked at me like I was nuts. Then I knew I was right. No one wants to hear the truth.

It goes like this. Second thought, I can’t explain it all yet. The explanation is another story and I don’t want to steal the plot prematurely. So let me just summarize it for now. The Rapture is what will happen to all souls. Every soul exists in all seven dimensions at once, at least the seven I have discovered. Three physical, one dream state, and three spiritual. One being Earth and the 3rd dimension.

To achieve Christ consciousness, the elusive goal of all new agers and Bible belters, you must merge all seven dimensions to create a new one, the magical eighth and final step in your spiritual evolution. Even Jesus said the end game would not be found in your heaven or the heaven beyond it. To merge, you must take your physical body with you. That’s why we have it made over the angels. That’s what Jesus did when he pulled off his version of the Rapture.

Of course when you’re done you may look like you’ve been through a nuclear reaction, kind of like I feel some mornings. Anyway, think about it. I’ll try to explain more later. At least now I know that the ancient wisdom that pops into my head every so often is not just from the UFO implant. That’s a relief.

TEMPTED BY THE GOLD

Lord I hear you coming
you’re coming down that track
hear that locomotive pounding
come to take me back

You know I just ain’t ready yet
to take that final ride
I’ve been a sinner
and my sins I just can’t hide

Lord - amen - amen
please listen to my pleas
for I am just a lost soul
like a wandering sheep

Lord - amen - amen
I couldn’t see the light
wandered in the darkness
prowled the streets at night

Lord - amen - amen
once I was so bold
blinded by the glitter
tempted by the gold

CREATION

Ever wonder about creation? I do all the time. Seems the Bible can account for about 12,000 years, back to the time of the big surf, or flood. The Hopi and Mayan Indian can account for another 250,000 years, including the mystical kingdom of Atlantis.

Dinosaurs are 60-200 million years old. The Grand Canyon is 2 billion years old. Earth 4 billion, while the universe as we know it is 26 billion years old. I figure that is more than enough time to accommodate just about every version of creation there can be.

Lots of things could have evolved and disappeared in 26 billion years. I like the Hopi idea that this is the fourth cycle of man, and we are at the end. Makes my departure a little less significant. Of course they say there will be a fifth cycle. Hope the Hopi don’t expect me back.

I have offered a lot of theories about creation over the years to anyone that will listen. There have been some constants in them. I do believe we are in the fourth cycle of civilization. I believe the first two cycles involved beings on this planet that were much more spiritual and connected to the Creator. Kind of like glimmering George Lucas creations out of Star Wars. Third was the Atlantians, whose technology was so advanced the whole damn thing self-destructed. This is the fourth, at least the end of it. Yet another round lost by the stupid humans.

Each time a new cycle began on Earth I believe higher spirits, angels, or whatever you want to call them, were sent here to help. So I guess we can blame them for the failures as well. Now I think they are back again to help with the Purification before the fifth cycle that is about to begin.

Only a fool would harbor the notion that we are alone in creation. Since I also buy the existence of parallel universes, or dimensions, then at a minimum we exist in numerous places simultaneously. Imagine that, each of us spread out all over the place. A dash in this dimension, a dash in that. There are some people I sure wish weren’t spread out. But who am I to question the wisdom of the All Omnipotent One.

One day I expect to find proof positive of prior civilizations, maybe from the time of Atlantis or Lemuria. Of course that depends on how soon God honors my request to be taken. I think the pyramid and sphinx are about 25,000 years old, at least the first time they were build. But other civilizations may be millions of years old.

And I’m not talking about civilizations that were inhabited by ape men or any such nonsense, but evolved humans. That is, if you accept the highly suspect theory that we are indeed advanced creatures. Judging from our history that might be a stretch. And watching some of the Neanderthals I’ve known, we may well be in evolutionary reverse speed.

I think the only reason we were given a brain and free will is because God knew better than to give it to any other creatures. He figured they’d watch us for a while and see how bad we screwed things up. So most of the attention of the angels has been on saving everything else from us.

Man is a strange creature. There is only one animal species that is a natural killer for the sake of killing, besides man, and that is the domestic cat. Not even the wild lions and tigers kill for the sake of killing. Only the cat raised under the direct influence of man.

I read a story about how a single cat outdoors can kill 1600 songbirds every 18 months. No wonder there is so little song left in the world. Doesn’t matter if you feed the cat, they aren’t killing the birds for food but pleasure. Why is that? We can train some dogs to do that but it doesn’t come natural to them.

I suspect there are a lot of species of animals, birds and fish that would just as soon see the human race die out again. Who can blame them? We take, we possess, we destroy, all in the name of God and country. Some evolved civilization.

And then there is poor Mother Earth. No wonder she is throwing earthquakes, floods, hurricanes and typhoons at us at a record pace. We have ripped everything we can from the Earth. Then we poison the air and water. We genetically manipulate the food, not to mention the animals and soon humans. Is nothing sacred anymore?

I’m with the Hopi. We have gone too far again. It is high time for the Purification because if the Almighty doesn’t stop us we will destroy everything. At least leave something of the Earth behind for someone else to try and get it right.


I DON’T KNOW WHY

When the daylight has begun
darkness has been lost to the morning sun
that rises in the sky to the east
I don’t know why

Stars that fade from night
stars that remind me of the ones
who gave their life a life that didn’t count
still I don’t know why

And if I ever find the answer
to the mysteries that I see
perhaps the truth will help me face
what waits out there for me

For I know there’s a reason
for the things we do and say
and if I keep on searching
I will find it ‘long the way

So I will keep on living
‘till I reach the day

When the night returns again
I lie awake and wonder
when it’s going to end this life I live
what is it I am supposed to give

Lonely people walk the night
I guess I wonder if they know
the end’s in sight an end that haunts them
they don’t know the end will lead them to the light

And if I ever find the answer
to the mysteries that I see
perhaps the truth will help me face
what waits out there for me

For I know there’s a reason
for the things we do and say
and if I keep on searching
I will find it ‘long the way

So I will keep on living
‘till I reach the day

ELEMENTALS

Within Mother Earth, according to folk legend, there are magical little people called the Elementals, those soulless creatures assigned to protect the water, forests, lands, and fire of the earth. That’s where stories about the fairies, elves, and all the other strange little critters come from. Folk tales they tell us.

No phony folk stuff to them. I believe in them. You should too if you don’t. If you can escape the ravages of modern society and get yourself out in the virgin country you can even sense them. They wait, and observe. Quietly they go about their business of cleaning up our messes.

Someone must be responsible for protecting the Earth in the third dimension. Look at us, we have all kinds of protectors, overseers, angels, aliens and demons. Seems only right the trees, rocks, air, water and land would have them too.

People have been seeing them and writing about them for centuries, important people too. Yet we still try not to believe. How arrogant of us. I see a life force in everything in this planet. There is an energy that makes it, an energy that preserves it. Whether it is the Earth or the wind, there is a life force that guides everything. When will we wake up?

A TINY SEED

A seed so tiny that is planted
in the ground where we can’t see
somehow survives the cold of winter
that can break a man like me

The pounding rains of spring can’t wash away
the seed as it does grow
and in the autumn as it sheds it’s leaves
to sleep again it goes

That tiny seed becomes a giant oak
and spreads it’s mighty wings
as it forever reaches upward
to the clouds and higher things

I find it funny as we contemplate
we sit and wonder why
we never noticed as that seed
became a tree and reached the sky

A grain of sand is blowing cross the highway
right in front of me
I never stopped to think about it
and from where it just might be

Is it a fragment of the ages
with the wisdom of all time
was it once part of a mountain
that performed in perfect rhyme

That tiny grain of sand was once part
of a mighty mountain peak
reaching high above the clouds
up where the eagles dared to seek

Ain’t it funny as we go our way
we never wondered why
that tiny grain of sand is
much stronger than I

A gentle wind whispers so softly
as it rustles through the trees
yet it can change into a hurricane
from a gentle breeze

The winds don’t ever get to rest
they keep on blowing through the years
sometimes I just don’t understand it
how the winds can cause such fears

That breeze that pushes back your hair
with such a warm and gentle touch
can turn into an angry storm
that drives the pounding rains too much

I guess I never stopped to wonder
if the winds are right or wrong
just can’t imagine what we’d have
if they were gone

DIVINE INSIGHTS

As a reporter, I thought I knew research techniques. Spent years developing the discipline and resources to be able to find out anything. Made me invaluable in Congress or the White House. No matter what came up, they knew within hours I could find out and craft an appropriate response to any issue.

And my investigative techniques and corresponding results generated minor folk tales. Like the time I found out all the bridges were being raised on the interstate highway system so the military could move these giant missile launchers around the country to avoid detection by the Russians.

But I confess, my techniques paled in comparison to those of my older brother. After all, he was a gatekeeper to the next dimension. Told me so himself. If you needed a ticket to the ascension, he was the ticketmaster. Took him years to find the right master to sell tickets for, then the ancient knowledge flowed like the Mississippi River in spring run-off.

There were two sources for his accelerated spiritual evolution. One was the channeled entity, Sammy, the Mecca of all things and speech writer for God. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether God or Sammy was in charge. Nixon felt the same way I guess about his speech writers, and look what happened.

Source number two was the secret depository of all spiritual insights. The movies, as in Hollywood and motion pictures. In the world according to Michael, sometimes it seemed the value of information was in direct proportion to the box office draw at the movie theater. Ratings equaled truth. Dollars made sense.

Powder, Where Dreams Are Made, Michael, Sixth Sense, and Dogma were among the most significant insights ever shared with humans, according to the latest revelations from my brother. It was obvious from their ticket sales. Why didn’t I think of that? Such movies were made to condition humans for what was to come.

Same was true with movies like the Star Wars Trilogy, ET, Close Encounters, and the rest. And who could question that conclusion? Made sense to me. What better way to gain acceptance for a new idea than to slap it on the big screen and show it to the billions of spiritually evolved people one finds in movie theaters. Always wondered why they were there.

Those movies that mastered the game of merchandising made an even greater impact on humanity with all the additional revenue they generated. Still, I am not certain about his movie methods. Imagine some point far into the future when archaeologists are exploring the ancient remains of our civilization. If they believe the mystical movie theory they will have concluded the human race of the 20th century was destroyed by genetic mutants in the form of Purple Barney Monsters and Talking Kermit Frogs.

WHY SHOULD I CARE?

Why are we here what should we know
up on the stage on with the show
so many questions still on my mind
where are the answers so little time
when will my journey end
what waits beyond the next bend

Why do I feel so lonely
why do I feel so alone
and why do I wonder
why should I care

Once upon a time I was foolish
now I can’t find my way home

First came act one, childhood was fun
seemed I just started then it was done
I was awakened sent on my way
left on my own to face the day

Couldn’t tell if I was strong
was too young to know right from wrong

Then came act two out on my own
a tree with no roots a kid with no home
I knew it all I was so cool
I was so blind, I was life’s fool

The lessons came oh so fast
I’m reminded with scars from the past

Why do I feel so lonely
why do I feel so alone
and why do I wonder
why should I care

Once upon a time I was foolish
now I can’t find my way home

Take Me Now God! - Excerpt #4

[Authors note: For those of you following this story I have tried to simplify it. If you just started there is a series of excerpts and if you want to start at the beginning just copy and paste the following links. Note that this release is now Excerpt 1 as it was the preface but left out of the earlier releases. Have fun with the preface which is titled the Postmortem.]

Take Me Now God! Review
What a Novel Idea
http://coltonspointtimes.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-novel-idea.html

Take Me Now God! Excerpt #1
Postmortem
http://coltonspointtimes.blogspot.com/2009/06/take-me-now-god-excerpt-1.html

Take Me Now God! Excerpt #2
Epilogue
http://coltonspointtimes.blogspot.com/2009/05/excerpt-1-take-me-now-god.html

Take Me Now God! Excerpt #3
Terminator Comet
http://coltonspointtimes.blogspot.com/2009/06/take-me-now-god-excerpt-2.html


TAKE ME NOW GOD!
(An Unauthorized Autobiography)

Copyright 2009 jiM PuTnaM

Excerpt #4

WITNESSES

About 25 years ago I found out for the first time that I was worldly. Sounded good to me. Like a jet setter of sorts. Man of the world. Then I found out what it meant. Took a legion of Jehovah’s Witnesses to finally get through to me. I mean I was brainwashed as a Catholic since birth. Deprogramming takes some time.

I smoked. I drank. I danced. I swore. I fought. I believe in the country. I paid taxes. I liked holidays. And by doing some or all of the above I had somehow rejected God and was condemned to be stuck here in hell for eternity. It meant I was lost to the material world, forever banished to drift aimlessly in an endless sea of darkness and never see the light of the spiritual kingdom, or some such illuminating thought.

Learned that from the Watchtower, the National Enquirer of the Witness Kingdom. The only magazine with bigger distribution than Reader’s Digest. Back when I was still in intensive brainwashing I was told the Jehovah’s Witnesses, plus the Christian Scientists, Mormons, and about every other group that was not Catholic, was a cult.

That’s all it took to get me interested in finding out more. So I made it a habit to study all kinds of religions all my life. Ever wonder who in the world would let the door-to-door Jesus people in their house? I confess, it was me. Course I debated them as much as I debated the nuns and priests. Except the Witnesses never tried to exorcise me like my own did. I was always good for their witness quota if not salvation.

Of all the groups I studied I was most fascinated by the Mormons and Witnesses. The Mormons because of their commitment to the nation, the Witnesses because of their opposition to the nation. Then I found a lot of similarity between the Witnesses and the Hopi Indian. Lost tribes seem to have a lot in common.

Neither recognized the authority of the federal government. And while the Hopi were making their last stand in the desolation of the Arizona desert, the Witnesses were making their last stand in the desolation of Brooklyn. Besides, the Hopi had their ancient prophecies and the Witnesses had their Michael Jackson.

When I was a kid I always wanted to be a monk. Think the Witnesses reminded me of monks. After giving up all they had to give up, might as well be in a cloistered order in the mountains somewhere.

Two main things intrigued me about the Witnesses. First was their refusal to take blood transfusions for any reason. Second was the legendary ways they could beat the government out of taxes, OOPS, cancel that. I mean second was the importance of the 144,000 soldiers of God mentioned in Revelations.

Until I talked to the Witnesses, I never realized all 144,000 of God’s chosen would be Witnesses. Didn’t say much for the other 99% of the population, or the Pope. Of course they never could explain to me how there were only 144,000 of God’s chosen yet there were several million Witnesses. What happens to the rest of the righteous ones? Dinner for the seven-headed dragon I suspect.

Spent over a year in California living with Witnesses. Not in a commune or anything, they were fairly normal in living arrangements. But I went to the temple and debated with the elders for all hours of the day and night. They asked me for insights into all the other religions I had studied, and I asked them for tax tips.

Then one day my mission became clear. There had to be some reason for living with Witnesses for over a year, all the while subjecting myself to being branded a “worldly” person. I had been fascinated for quite some time with their refusal to take blood on biblical grounds. I could respect the position as well as their foundation.

But it seemed to me there should be an alternative to certain death, and a number were dying because of this religious belief. So I studied and ran across something the Japanese had patented called artificial blood. Now as long as the transfusion was not real blood, I saw no reason it wouldn’t be okay. And if the artificial stuff could help you survive long enough for your own system to replace the lost blood, then everyone wins.

After numerous discussions the Witnesses checked it out through their secret hierarchy and finally agreed to try it. It didn’t conflict with their teachings and might save some lives. Then the trouble began and my mission became clear. The artificial blood was not approved in the US. To get it approved, it had to go through the long and cumbersome process of Food and Drug Administration approval. Yet every day it seemed like more people were dying because they couldn’t take blood. New drug approval by the FDA was measured in years, not weeks.

So they asked me to help them, to find the short cut. With my federal experience I was to get the approval of the government for experimental use of the artificial blood. From day one I ran into an endless series of roadblocks. Before I was through my little humanitarian quest was to expose bigotry and discrimination to a degree I never suspected was possible in the land of the free.

I appealed to the chairman of a US Senate Committee for help. A famous Senator with a bunch of famous family members and a famous political dynasty behind him. One of his aides was assigned to help get the FDA approval. When I explained it to the aide over the phone, he asked if it was the same cult that refused to take blood transfusions. I said yes. He said they deserved to die. I figured that meant help would not be forthcoming any time soon.

So I played my trump card. I played back the tape of the phone call. The tape where he said they deserved to die. Then I told him the next time he heard the tape it would be playing on 60 Minutes, national television. Damn Catholics. I can say that, I was one. Seems there was a miraculous transformation. I asked God’s forgiveness for my tactics then thanked God for helping me get it done. No conflict there.

We got the waiver shortly after. Too late to save the father of a Witness I knew. But the very day of the approval people started being saved. Later a story appeared in the Watchtower. Don’t remember if it mentioned me. I never saw it. Doubt they could mention how worldly people help out. Wouldn’t look good for recruiting. I was already off on a new adventure. But I always liked the Witnesses. They’re into the End Times too.

ENDLESS SEARCH

As I sit and watch the daybreak
and the sun lights up the sky
I cannot help but wonder
why such beauty is a lie

For the beauty that we gaze on
is not within our grasp
the peace within that dawning morn
can’t be made to last

And so my search continues
as I travel on my way
in my quest for understanding
I have only this to say

As I travel to the cities
that people call their homes
I cannot help but wonder
why so many are alone

Dissent and animosity
that’s growing from within
makes everyone an enemy
though you view them as a friend

Don’t try to understand me
or make your love be known
for I was born to wander
no place to call my own

So as I journey onward
and fade with time till dead
forget you ever met me
but remember what I said

The answer I can’t find here
from two faces of the day
so now I must continue
and once again I say

Like a rolling stone I have no home
like the winds of the west I never rest
like the birds of the sky I’m free to fly
like a ray of hope I live then die

NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCES

Whoever coined the phrase, “life is cruel” was an eternal optimist, I know. Take the subject of near death experiences. If life were simply cruel we’d get one of these in a life time. But near death experiences were a way of life with me. If I’d known the near death stories could sell so many books I would’ve kept notes from day one. And I’d be rich by now.

The first happened almost before I even had a chance to get my diapers wet for the first time. They took me home from the hospital, and our apartment promptly catches on fire and burns down. The Ex says Satan was just trying to make me feel at home. I had a better idea. Figured it was either my older brother not willing to share the attention with a new baby, or mom trying to cook to impress me. Either explanation made more sense than Satan. I vowed to keep my eyes open after that. Probably explains why I was never able to sleep.

After moving to a new place I was sitting out front in a stroller with the bottom plate off. I started pushing with my feet and the next thing I knew I was sailing down the long, sloping stretch of sidewalk leading to a concrete flight of stairs with no help in sight. Was airborne for a short time as the stroller rolled in mid air and I smashed my face into a step halfway down. Even my permanent teeth were damaged and they weren’t out. Had so many stitches it took until high school for the scar tissue to not be noticeable. Guess my head had to grow into my injury.

The next couple of near deaths were medical related. Had the mumps so bad I couldn’t eat. Into the hospital for an IV. Then a measles induced fever brought me back again, to be packed in ice before my brain fried. Got a couple of years off before I came back with a bang. This time I drowned in a lake at summer camp. Both brothers stood watching as I sank under for the third and final time. I would have killed them if I hadn’t been busy dying myself. They thought I was playing around.

During this experience I managed separation from my body and was that strange. Was able to watch myself sink to the bottom of the lake. Resigned myself to die. It was quite peaceful. Didn’t see any angels or tunnel leading to brilliant light No spirits were waiting to guide me home. Guess I wasn’t near enough to death, or to heaven.

When I hit bottom I had muscle spasms and my legs bolted out straight, slamming against the bottom, and propelling my nearly limp body to the shallow end where counselors were waiting to grab me and bring me back to life. I was okay. Think my desire to get even with my brothers helped me through it.

By now I was beginning to feel immortal. Five attempts to die and they kept throwing me back. There would be many more. Like the time my younger brother and I were bored so we stole a box of rifle shells from a neighbor’s garage and tried firing them by smashing them with bricks. When that failed we tossed the whole box in an incinerator and had to run for our lives when the fire set off the ammunition. Felt like a front row seat at the Battle of Normandy.

Once my kid brother and I snuck into the basement so I could play priest again. We flattened the bread into hosts but the light in the old coal room where I intended to say Mass was off so I moved a folding chair under it and reached up to the chain. As the light came on I realized I was in a pool of water and then I lit up with the light. Bob knocked me loose from the arcing electricity through my body

Was swimming in a lake near a diving platform when lightning struck out in the middle. I dove under the surface just as the electrical charge came sizzling across the water. The guy I was with was caught hanging on the platform trying to get out and was severely burned in a circle around his chest. But he lived.

My eighth near death experience was in 8th grade when I had the brain concussion and slipped into a coma. Trying to be a hero in football playing without a helmet. We won, I lost, I had total amnesia and no idea where home might be. That night I slipped away in a coma and three days later I came back to life. What else could possibly go wrong? I wasn’t even in high school yet.

There was the time I plowed into two deer at 5:00 am doing 80 miles per hour. After the car finished rolling down a hill I woke up with a deer in the front seat beside me. Or the time I was towing a car and fell asleep. Both cars went into a slow motion spin out in the rain, then we disappeared backwards over an embankment and slid down into a ditch.

Once I was driving an MGB convertible and pulled up to a stop sign. At the last second I eased off the brake and rolled a couple of inches forward. Heard an odd whooshing sound, turned my head to the left and saw a hunting arrow sticking out of my head rest. If I hadn’t of rolled forward the arrow would have been in my neck. Some idiot was down the block playing Robin Hood.

The day after I graduated from high school my buddy and I were racing along the Pennsylvania Turnpike for NYC when a typhoon hit. We were in a VW bug trapped in the middle of a bunch of massive semi-trailers. At the bottom of the hill the road was flooded so we held on for dear life as the VW plowed into the water. With semis beside, behind, and coming toward us in the other lanes, it didn’t look good. Somehow the VW magically bounced up on the island dividing the turnpike saving us from instant pulverization.

When I was working in politics doing an investigation of fraud in federally funded programs I was driving a federal car and the windows were blown out by shotgun blasts. Never a dull moment. By then it was clear, I couldn’t get out of here. Some called it luck but I wondered. What was so great about not being taken?

I was caught in riots in New York City, Washington, DC and Omaha. Floods and tornadoes tried to get me. Strange things kept happening around me even when they weren’t happening to me.

In all I guess I had about 20 chances to write a best seller before they finally tapered off a few years back. Blew them all. There are some stories we just aren’t meant to share. She said it stood to reason, they wouldn’t let me out. A demon’s work is never done. I suppose that’s about right. Might make leaving this time a little harder. But I like challenges.

FAT LITTLE JIMMY GOT CRIBBLED

Little Jimmy strolling down the street
hear the pitter patter of his little feet
watch him scream and yell so loud
always heard, above the crowd

Well Jimmy met his match one day
while in his stroller he did play
a trip so fast was his to take
down the walk, without a brake

He had no wings but he did fly
right off the ground into the sky
but fat round kids must come back down
and so he crashed, upon his crown

Now there’s a lesson to be told
about this cribbled kid once bold
flying’s not for kids to do
cause then the people, will laugh at you

Little Jimmy strolling down the street
hear the pitter patter of his little feet
watch him scream and yell so loud
he’s always heard, above the crowd

GENEALOGY

What if I never get my life together? Then what? I mean, I tried growing up but found that entirely unacceptable. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? My life has been out of control since I got jerked out of the womb against my will. I mean, there was a mistake. I was supposed to be born to a Rockefeller or maybe a Mellon. They could afford me. But to my family. No wonder they had to pull me out. I had no intention of leaving until the mistake had been corrected.

I’d do a life review about now but I’d die laughing before I got through it. Not the way I want to end this life. Besides, there’s too many other people in line to knock me off. Wouldn’t want to spoil the fun for them. Of course I’ve already disappointed all those people that predicted my demise long before now. I call it debunking the psychics. They had no business making such predictions.

Guess I’ve just about tried it all by now. Can’t think of much more I have the energy or will to attempt. Did some interesting things I think. But my mother would never know. She has never figured out what I’m doing. Every time I’m around her she tells people something newer and stranger about me. Like the last time she said I was a Fed for the last 20 years. What the hell does that mean?

I haven’t been anything for five years, let alone twenty. Guess she might not approve of the things I’ve done. That would explain changing my history. If I hadn’t of caught my teachers changing history all the time I might not have understood. Mothers can change history, any history, especially when it comes to their kids. They don’t like what you do, they make up a new story.

Just wish she’d fill me in before me introduces me to people that think I’ve done something interesting. Although this last incident didn’t sound interesting to me. Maybe she finally gave up on me. She used to tell people interesting tall tales about me. Like I won all kinds of Emmys, was the governor of some state, or maybe that I’d made some spectacular archaeological discovery, like finding the lost continent of Atlantis or the ancient Hopi prophecy tablets. They were creative. A Fed? Now that’s boring.

Sometimes I think I’d like to take a peek inside her head. Then when I start to sense what is there, I run. What little I saw reminded me of Grand Central station under construction. Total chaos. Be hard to live with that I suspect. After having us for kids she probably feels like she’s been the victim of a psychic bush whacking. Someone once told me, and it might have been the Indians, that it takes four generations for the sins of the father to surface in the heirs. She found a short cut I guess.

But then I’ve never been a mother whose idea of dinner was a nice sit down meal at the country club. One whose idea of housework was what room service people did. She was groomed for royalty and stuck in the middle class. What are you going to do without the servants? Panic I guess.

That was why my first area of learning was home economics. Never understood that term either. Cooking, cleaning and sewing doesn’t translate to economics to me. It was more like survival. Then again, I made it an economic enterprise in my youth. I used to charge my brothers to clean up their mess. Then charged them to iron their shirts. I usually reserved my cooking for myself. I was more interested in seeing the long term effect of mother’s cooking on them.

Developing such a pattern in your youth can adversely affect you later. You don’t trust people to cook for you. And heaven help them if they so much as touch your laundry. I had my own particular way to fold things. And everything had a place. People still see my place and pronounce me anal retentive, yet another degrading term. Ever notice how only the total slobs call you that.

When you share a room all through your youth and have to fight for clothes and food, you get to be rather compulsive about your things. So few things can ever truly be yours in that kind of environment. I guarded them with my life and went to extremes to protect them from the marauding masses in the family.

Both my mother and father came from families that made pack ratting a science. Thus I inherited that genetic flaw as well. Both grandfathers were in the pack rat hall of fame. I did my best to keep up the family tradition but could never hold a candle to those masters.

Then I marry someone whose idea of something old and worn out is when you get it home from the store. I was looking for trouble there. Here I was the result of years of biological breeding to be a master recycler, a savior of all things old, and she wants to throw away anything with dust on it. Doomed from the start.

Kids are stupid and I was a kid once. Amazing the hindsight of maturity. Do you realize if we mastered hindsight we could never make a mistake. And how boring would that be? I always learned far more from mistakes than by doing something right. Isn’t learning supposed to be all about finding out what you don’t know, not doing what you do know?

Some people really get turned on by genealogy. I never did. It seemed to me that the risk of exposing dark secrets was always greater than finding out something good. Why else would your family’s past be shrouded in mystery? My dad did a massive family research project once. I never did see the results. But I saw bits and pieces.

That was how I knew Emilia Earhart married into the family, shortly before disappearing from the world. And how I learned that the little girl who testified against the witches in Salem was family. Talk about karma. After all those witches got fried because of my ancestor I suppose we were cursed for all time. Maybe that explains all the strange things that happened to me. Even the first causalities of the revolutionary war were family. Always looking for a good fight. Figured the British Empire would be a worthy opponent.

I leave the genealogy to the Mormons. Let them preserve my past. They can even convert all those dead souls from my family tree. In a way, its reassuring to me to know that long after I’m dead the Mormons can still come along and reinstate me into the good graces of the spiritual kingdom. Of course I never thought of Salt Lake City as the New Jerusalem but it has to be somewhere.

At least I’ve resolved the religious dilemma this lifetime. I decided to be a multi-religious zealot. I’m a Jew for Hanukah so I get 8 days of Christmas. Then I become a Witness for the other Christmas and birthdays so I don’t have to give gifts. I’m a Buddhist into self-transformation when I don’t want to go anywhere with people I don’t like. A Celtic Druid when I’m stoned, or is it surrounded by stones?

I’m Native American with a love for the Earth when it’s time to mow the grass. Mormon when it comes to marriage so I can have a few wives. Chinese when I can’t stand kids. A Muslim when I want five or six extra breaks during the workday. I’m an evangelical Christian when I want inspiration and a fundamentalist Christian when I want to trash the government and all other religions. Finally, I’m a Republican when the Democrats are in office, a Democrat when the Republicans are in office, and Independent when I think about it or when I’m around Perot.

In summary, I just am. Life is good.

I’LL TRY GOOD-BYE

I was born one autumn morn
the offspring of a war
that I never fought nor saw
nor even tasted

And even though I tried
I could never run away and hide
I could never get away go back
so it’s good-bye

My father was a politician
I was a politician’s son
though I never felt my life
had been wasted

And even though I tried
I could never run away and hide
I could never get away go back
so it’s good-bye

Always walked in long tall shadows
of my next of kin
never could live up
to expectations

And even though I tried
I could never run away and hide
I could never get away go back
so it’s good-bye

Raised to be a dreamer
whose work is never done
searching for the answers
to life’s mysteries

And even though I tried
I could never run away and hide
I could never get away go back
so it’s good-bye

Looking back on where I’ve been
the prodigy of war
walked that lonely trail
of broken dreams

And even though I tried
I could never run away and hide
I could never get away go back
so it’s good-bye


THE COUNSELOR

After so many years of hearing people tell you how bad off you really are, there comes a point when you start wondering for yourself. The Ex was only the latest to suggest I needed professional help. Think it started back with the nuns in grade school. About ten years ago they finally wore me down and I went to a psychologist or counselor or whatever you call them.

The premise which I finally accepted was the question, why am I not happy. The lady I was with at the time was worried that I kept accomplishing all these great things over and over and never seemed to get any pleasure from them. Sounded like a good idea to me, to find out why. She was right too, I never did really get any pleasure from accomplishing things.

First the psycho asked me if I was happy. I said no. She asked why and I said I saw no reason to be. All I had to do was look around me. When she pressed for why I didn’t seem to feel a sense of accomplishment I said it was because I always had things going on which weren’t accomplished.

Once we won a congressional campaign we were not supposed to win and I felt no sense of satisfaction. We had pulled off one of the top upsets in the country and I missed it. She asked why and I said I knew how much work was required to get him ready to take office. And I knew how hard it would be to keep him out of trouble when he got into office. Why should I be happy?

When we got a television special I helped create an Arts and Entertainment network national broadcast I didn’t feel that great. I knew the many people involved and the incredible long hours it took to put it together. Same was true with the Emmy winning series for National Geographic I worked on. Awards were never that important.

Sessions after session went by and all we were doing was talking about all the things I did and why I thought there was still too much left to do to be happy. Eventually I told her I was tired of being the subject of her next book. It didn’t seem like I was getting anywhere with the counseling. Either she had to send me to someone who could test me for a real problem or chemical deficiency, or I was through.

Off to the real shrink. After extensive testing he called me in the office. I was expecting him to tell me some kind of mind altering drugs were necessary. Instead he said the reason you are not happy is because what you do is not important to you. He said my outlook was worldly, even universal, and that I was unable to look at myself as an individual capable of accomplishing what I thought was important.

Seems when I had answered his questions about what I wanted to accomplish by saying wiping out hunger, providing housing for the homeless, ending war, eliminating hatred, that it ended any need for treatments. He said I didn’t have a problem. It would just be hard for me to ever be able to relate to my own needs when so many others wore so heavily on me. And what I accomplished was insignificant in my mind to the things I was worried about.

So that was it. Two more times I went to see shrinks for opinions and both times the shrink said they didn’t know if I had any chemical deficiency, but they would put me on powerful drugs just to see how it changed me. Can you imagine that? Mind altering drugs just to see the difference? That’s like a doctor treating you for something that isn’t wrong. I think the real nuts are behind the desks in the shrink’s office. Then again, the same thing happened to me with the appendix. Maybe it is my problem.

Now I figure I’m destined for a life without fulfillment. That’s another reason not to hang around. If I wanted that I’d go for the mind altering stuff in hopes that me being in a catatonic state would be more acceptable to the people around me. If God doesn’t take me soon then maybe he will let me house the homeless or feed the hungry. I could go for a few miracles. Then I might find satisfaction in what I accomplish.

DIDN’T BOTHER LOOKING BACK

When I went away baby
promised I’d be back some day
as you watched me say good-bye
tears flowed from your eyes

You were young and I was funny
went in search of fame and money
down a path I’d never been
to start it all again

Didn’t bother looking back
rode those rails on down the track
in search of dreams I dared not seek
God I was so weak

Then one day I woke up
the dreams I chased were gone
they were so elusive
for so long

I didn’t understand it
those dreams were in my grasp
somehow I just couldn’t
make them last

Now I’m back at home again
looking for a long lost friend
the love I left so long ago
guess I didn’t know

How she waited by the phone at night
cried until the morning light
one day no more tears would come
the tears were finally done

When I set out down that road
to be free, guess I told
the love I left behind
I won’t be back no more

The highway that I traveled down
a one way ticket out of town
was more than she could stand
I was such a fool once more

I didn’t understand it then
when I got home I lost a friend
I realize the cost
of being free

Take Me Now God! Review

What A Novel Idea.

Now I figured since this is the only ad free Internet newspaper making it either a far sighted business plan or just plain stupid, maybe you wouldn't mind if I deviate from my usual objective hard news and give you a sneak peek at one of my recent but not published manuscripts. If I am not overwhelmed with bad comments after this peek I will be posting excerpts in the CPT and you can be like a focus group if you dare to send in comments. Here is a reviewer's look at my latest book, Take Me Now God!.

TAKE ME NOW GOD!
a novel by Jim Putnam

So what happens when one pursues every course of self-enlightenment and discovery available to people with too much time on their hands? And what happens when they have exhausted their search through religion, cults, mysticism, spiritualism, Native American cultures, prophecies, politics, the psychic world and beyond?

At the journeys end they have only one option left. "Take Me Now God!" A demand to the Creator, Source, or God, no matter what you choose to call him or her, for immediate salvation. As the author says, "In the beginning was the Word, and no one listened."





In the first chapter of this "unauthorized autobiography", he laments; "She's right you know. I'm not compatible with humans. Hell, half the time my damn dog loses it's loyalty. She once asked me if I ever considered suicide. Who wouldn't after what I'd seen. But I said no. So she rephrased the question. Maybe I should consider suicide. That's why I decided to end it."

Beginning with the opening Post Mortem, the author rushes to dispose of all that is important in his life so God can take him now. And the reader is taken on a hilarious journey through the world of religions, the metaphysical, spiritual and more leaving a trail of shattered searches for inspiration and failure to find the hidden meaning in life.







Excerpts:

True love: "I was star crossed from day one, double crossed by day two, and nailed to the cross by day three."










The Illuminati: "The New Age of enlightened beings - the Illuminati. Often caught up in their own delusional hysteria. Demanding to be heard. Demanding to be followed. Judging others as they don't want themselves judged. Know how to tell the difference between a fraudulent Illuminati and enlightened one? You can't."

The Rapture: "There are a lot of interesting things in the spiritual world, but of all of them, the Rapture wins hands down. Think about it, the optimum lift off. The ultimate high. No more bills. No more taxes."

Creation: "Ever wonder about creation? I do all the time. Seems the Bible can account for about 6,000 years, back to the time of the big surf, or flood. The Hopi and Mayan Indian can account for another 250,000 years, including the mystic kingdom of Atlantis. Dinosaurs are 60-120 million years old. The Grand Canyon is 2 billion years old. Earth 4 billion, while the universe as we know it is 26 billion years old. I figure that is more than enough time to accommodate just about every version of creation there can be."






Psychic Channels: "I want real proof. Give me the winning numbers to next week's Powerball lottery and I'll be a true believer for the rest of my annuities. Those damn lotteries. Why is it there are only a few thousand possible combinations of winning numbers, yet the odds of winning are 12 million to one? Where does that math come from? Pythagoras in a drunken stupor?"

Native Americans: "I always had an affinity for them. Was the only kid that ever volunteered to be the Indian. Didn't bother me to get killed in most battles. Every once in a while we played Little Big Horn and I kicked some white ass."

Genetic Manipulation: "I've had suspicions about it since I was 5 years old, when I first tasted cooked spinach. That shit had to be genetically engineered poison. And don't you think it made me more than a little suspicious about my mother, who was trying to kill me with it?"

Ancient Prophecies: "There is nothing I want more than to believe the ancient prophecies. After the mess we have made of the Earth, we deserve no less than the catastrophic earth changes that have been foretold. It would be a fitting tribute to our self-aggrandizing ego trip."

The Past: "I'm with Einstein, like I said before, on that time - space continuum bending time. Past, present and future all take place at the same time. I haven't even committed all my sins of the past. They're happening as we speak. Same with the sins of the future. Don't need to wait, I'll just do them all together. Things get complicated when you are a free thinker."

From dogs to demons, Christians to pagans, Take Me Now God! takes one on a wild ride through the life of a searcher, albeit, one who came up empty handed but with no regrets.