We work together (in the garden of good and evil)

Well, technically we don't exactly work together. We are however in the same field. Definitely have the same interests.

I like to run. You like to run.
I like to carry firearms. You like to carry firearms.
I can be demanding. You can be demanding. 
I would like to bend you over doggy-style and, well, you're a Bible carrying K-9 officer with LMPD. 
A match, as they say, made in heaven. 

We have so much in common, why, its almost criminal.
So its no surprise that our paths would finally cross. Golgotha style. You are Mary Magdalene to my Barabbas. The sodom up my Gomorrah.

True, I wasn't "invited" per say to the Women's Wednesday night bible study. But, let the record show that it was indeed a public establishment that they were arguing about Christ in and I had zero intention of robbing them. Or exposing myself. Or kidnapping for that matter. But sometimes you gotta show you mean business. Can I get an amen?
And as god is my witness, nor did I shoot your dog. Now...wait...just a god-damned creationist minute...you know as well as I do that ricochet's don't count. Its in the Bible.

Atheists really have no idea what they are missing. 

All the usual characters were there too. There was Brenda "my husband just left me". She's been divorced 8 years. We have Claire "Jesus is going to kill everyone soon to show how loving and forgiving he is". Great rack. Says she's married but no one has ever seen her husband. 

Ellen "8 kids" and Frita "7 kids". If you drop a bible on the floor anywhere near these two they get pregnant. Rumor has it that Ellen's uterus fell out one day right smack in the middle of communion. God bless her, she still managed to run VBS the rest of the day said Brenda. She scares me. Also in attendance is 'Sleepy' Samantha, 'Almost old enough to put in my spank bank' Casey and 'Crying' Rita who also holds the record for most Asians adopted this side of Seminary Hill. 

But, you angel are my leading lady. My very own T.J Hooker cherubim. Yes you. Even busybodies Betty and Clare pretended not to notice your hotness (and they notice everything). They were facilitating last night and *that* was what finally put me over the edge. They finish each others sentences. It's disgusting. 

I'm pretty sure Ellen and Frita were conspiring to murder you just for being single when I walked up and whipped out my pistols. Yes, one of them was a hard 9 inches of pure, lethal, pulsating, power and the other was my penis. If you, dear reader, happened to be in attendance, the air conditioning was WAY to high. Just saying. 

In the ensuing melee, I never did catch your name. I did, like any good narcissist, leave my manifesto. Hopefully your almost done reading it. Hey, maybe you and the girls can study it? Casey told me to tell you 'hi'. She said that the age of consent in the Bible was 13. So. . . really, who am I too argue? 

N.

Fast and Furious (Over Corrections)

we mustn't expect the established order to establish order, because its 'justice' is blind because it is blind.

I first noticed you noticing me. Startled was I to discover your gaze meeting my own, given that I was on the side of the highway, walking.

You were on your cell phone (shocker) and seemed to be applying some sort of eye liner while also driving. No doubt you had the radio blasting and given all these details thus far, a high probability of a unstrapped toddler loafing somewhere in the backseat. If I had to guess, I would say the father was less delinquent as he was indeterminable. 

The front tires of your car must have begun to hit the rumble strips as your head jerked up just in time to avoid flattening me. 

You would have thought that: several blinking signs, the large, highly visible Corrections bus and several of us wearing orange jump suits would have alerted you that someone besides yourself was on the highway yesterday.

But let us not quibble my little Letty Ortiz. For in that intense moment of mutually assured vehicular manslaughter, our eyes met. I was thinking, if she doesn't kill me, I'd like to share the rest of my paroled life with her. Not so much the kid though.

Yes, in those 2.3 seconds ---- I connected with you. Almost with the same white hot intensity that the FBI connected with my front door several flash-bangs and months ago, which is to say, you shattered my world.

I'm sorry you over corrected, veered into oncoming traffic, side swiped a guard rail and lost the rear bumper. It also, at least from my vantage point, appeared that a small person in the back seat came flying up and into the windshield. 

The way I see it, kid learned a valuable lesson that day. One of which being that mommy hides lots of odd shaped bottles under the seats. Its exactly those kind of lessons that made me into the man I am today.

Sadly, the fact that I was part of a work release chain gang severely hindered any attempt to come to your assistance but I thought of you as I picked up refuse all along 65 South. Judging by the expired tags, it was probably wise for you to leave as quickly as you did. No doubt your heart ached at not being able to get my visitation schedule memorized. I know, baby doll. I know...

So, tell me what DOC number was on my shirt and what color my eyes are seeing that, yes, you were that fucking close.

I love you! Barring an extended sentence, I would like to see you in 3-5.

N.

Sex Spectacle (in the age of idiocy)

The spectacle as substitute for experience.

I.

The panopticon cannot see inside me. This is the one thing they could never take.

Yes, after many months confined, against the will, I am free. It was a Federal charge which if you know anything about jails (and you don’t) is a rather good thing. If you must be locked up (and all good humans in a corrupt place should), go big. 

The local ‘news’ spectacle told you that It was an apparent drug related shooting. But that is only because actual news is something someone doesn’t want you to know. Everything else is advertising. 

II.

But I’m not here to school you dear reader on the asinine futility of pretending you know something about the world having watched plastic tits talk between 5 and 5:30pm local. Time is precious. Which is another way of saying it isn’t.

Yes, even here in these poorly lit halls of apparent sexually frustrated misery. And yet it is precisely here, however, that we live and breath the real. What we do outside of here, that, craiglisters, is the dream get away. The real you is horny and looking for a connection, however polluted, perverse, voyeuristic and illegal, with another. The virtual world may seem like a place you venture off to, here and there, to get away. But the opposite is true.

You go to work, endure the boss, pay the tab, watch children murdered on your telly and wait at the stoplight like good citizens to get away from the demanding, over-proximity of the devious pervert you really are. Oh, the inhumanity of it all.

You were told that if you didn’t believe in God, you would deteriorate into wild animals and murderous thieves. You know, politicians. But here again, we must capture the something someone doesn’t want us to know. It is because you believe that you are now a mindless robot, killing not only yourself but various people around the globe in your incessant and seemingly foolish consuming of stuff. 

It is always the confident, true believer, removed of any doubt, that destroys his fellow with impunity. When God is on your side, no atrocity is too big. God demands.

If you quit believing, you might have to face the horror of deciding for yourself who you really want to be without any empirical proof that you are right. Or that you will successfully become this person. Becoming, now theres a term worth considering.

In other words, its not that if the big other doesn’t exist than all things are permitted, but because he exists [for you] that all things, however immoral and degrading, are therefor permitted. You are here because you believe too much.

III.

Pervert need not mean some one who diddles children. Perversion is simply a description of behaviors that deviates from the orthodox. So if the orthodox has itself become corrupt, well, Heresy is called for. The perverted monstrosity has become your salvation.

IV.

I am [such a] heresy. The divine anti-angelic pervert virus. The deranged, degenerate monk who just might save your life. Of course you are going to have to lose it first. You won’t believe this, especially at first. But, your doubt is important. I would say necessary. But that’s getting ahead of myself.

V.

I did learn several important lessons while incarcerated and no, it wasn’t that orange is the new black. It was that revolution is actually possible. One such lesson being that when an answer cannot be found, this is the answer. 

Also, in struggling to be different in a place that demanded absolute uniformity, one arrives at difference not by differing from an ‘other’ but by differing from one’s own self. 

Echo would be proud. You see what I did just there? Instead of God, I inserted Echo, the love of my life. 

Something haunts us. Something will always haunt us in this manner. Nemesis is never far. Then entertain treason we must... 

N.