The Revelation to Timothy

Everything I’m about to say is true. It is the holy account given by the Great One to his lowly servant, Timothy. Timothy was burned with a terrible fever. The fever made his head light and his throat like sulfur. On the first day it was terrible, and on the second, it was worse. Timothy tried the remedies of the shaman in his village, but they were weak against the fever sent by the Powerful Lord. On the third day, Timothy took the best medicines of his people, and the potions concocted by the greatest wizards, and even partook of several ounces of the water that burns like fire, in order to become numb.

Timothy fell fast asleep in his day-robe, and the Man Above Men sent him a messenger in his dream to give unto him His decrees. Timothy awoke the next morning in a sweat, though his fever had been removed. He quickly and accurately transcribed the contents of his vision under the supervision of the Great One’s spy. Blessings to those who believe the Man’s word, and who are afraid not to share it with others. The One Who Has Power Over the Weak wants all to hear this message, for His ego is greater than His humility.

This is what Timothy wrote:


Glory to the Great One; may all his whims and fancies be followed with the greatest reverence. First, the Big Man asked me to relay these words of judgment to the following groups.

To the Big People of the State of Texas: The Man is pleased with your obedience to His word. You are very faithful to Him and his messengers. But the Good Man is not pleased with the quickness with which you embrace any messenger who claims to speak in His name. Some of these false profits are simply conmen, selling a product of hate and destruction. In your enthusiasm to worship Him, you obey all who claim to preach in His name, and make the false leaders rich at great cost to the Earth. Shame on you. The Man of Power gave you minds capable of thought, but you have neglected to make use of them. An angel of the Man gave me this message to relay to you, “bigger is not better.” Listen up folks, the Man has spoken.

To the Sovereign Nation of Antarctica: You are truly the Man’s favorite mass. You provide birthing grounds for the lowliest of His creatures, and reject the inhabitation of the Great Virus. Continue to abolish the pillaging of your shores and the One Who Determines Past and Present will reward you greatly. Listen up folks, the Man has spoken.

To the Little Dark People of the Land where the Sun Rises: Stop making ridiculous game shows. They are nothing more than novelty entertainment for the slow of mind, and a seemingly endless fuel for the Great United Factory of Unthinkers. Listen up folks, the Man has spoken.

Next the voice of the Big Man called me up, and told me to sit upon His lap, so that I could watch with Him all that has happened, all that is happening now, and all that will someday happen. He first showed me the time when the Man’s people were at great odds with themselves, claiming both extreme happiness and great distress. The people wanted unity, and sought to quell the great wars. To this end they sought the comfort of potion makers and hypnotists. They were able to create peace treaties, but after only one or two years, war would break out again.

It was at this time that the Dog was corrupted. The Dog had long been misguided and easily led astray, but in this era he was tempted to bring the Whore to the place that his Holy Above all Places. On this sacred ground the Dog fornicated with the Whore, soiling the Holy Place forever. Never again would it be a place of carefree joy, but instead a Federation of Paranoia was created. The Whore begat a son, whom she claimed would one day rule the Holy place.

The people of the Man were distressed. They cried tears of blood. The Dog sought the council of the one who calls himself the Revealed Mystery. The Revealed Mystery gave the Dog herbs from the forbidden section of the garden, and the herbs made the Dog believe everything the Revealed Mystery said unto him.

“Whoa, this was a confusing time for the people of the Man,” I said to the Powerful One.

“Yes, but it is only the beginning,” He said to me. “Let me tell you of the wise and generous King and Queen of the Land of Small Fruit. The Queen had long prophesied that the Great Son would only be born after the union of the Dog and the Virgin. With this belief, she told the King to test the Whore and her son. The King sent his men to test them, and they found them to be false. The King banished the Whore and her seed to the dark forests forever.”

Then the Great Knower showed me the next chapter in the world’s drama. The people were relieved, though they still warred amongst themselves. The Dog, though, had fallen completely under the spell of the Revealed Mystery, whose skin is slippery like an eel. The Revealed Mystery controlled the Dog like a puppet, making his head bob to the beat of his words, and telling him to fast. In time, the Dog carried out these commands without the Mystery’s instructions.

At first the Queen was overjoyed with the Dog’s new self. The Dog strolled the grounds of her castle and expelled invisible demons. The Dog used his clout to open the gates of the castle to the Mystery. The Revealed Mystery ravaged the castle for a year before the King and Queen banished him from the land, but they were unable to banish the Dog, for he has always occupied the castle and always will.

The people quickly grew to despise the Dog. They recognized him as a terrible plague against the castle, living off the King and Queen like a tapeworm. The people shunned the Dog, and petitioned the King and Queen to cleanse the land of his sloth, but to no avail.

The people were so disgusted with the Dog’s sin that they waged a war against him. They darkened his eye, but there was no moving him from the castle. The Dog was once bitten by the Viper of the Great Divide. When the Viper failed to kill him, the Dog took it to mean the Great One had granted him invincibility, but his power did not come from the Powerful One. The Revealed Mystery had taught him to believe he possessed powers beyond him, though he only could produce shadows of wonder.

The people of the Man set out on a great journey. They traveled from shore to shore, mountain peak to valley, but could not find completeness away from the Holy Place, so they returned to the castle.

“Look there,” the Great One said to me, “there is the Wicked Mother.”

I looked where He pointed and saw a most horrific sight. Sitting on a throne of plastic was the Wicked Mother. She was a giant. The corners of her eyes curled up like cruel grins. In her gaping, drooling mouth, she had a tongue of silver. She wore the symbols of the east around her neck and wrist.

Upon returning from their great voyages, the people were terrified to find the Wicked Mother fat with child and dwelling in the castle with the Dog. The Mother forced the King and Queen to wait on her hand and foot, for she claimed to carry the Great Son in her womb. The Dog had been careless and spread his seed. When the child was born, the Queen’s prophesies were proven false for he truly was the Great Son.

At this point I jumped from the Great One’s lap and rejoiced. “Great is the Son, whose name spans the alphabet, and is powerful both upside down and backwards, who will chase the Dog away with his rocket.”

“Yes, his glories have been foretold,” said the Powerful One. “Come, and I will show his wondrous deeds to you.”

I sat again on the Man’s lap, and he unfolded the future before me. The Wicked Mother tried to keep the Great Son under her command by weakening him with the milk of the lowest order of beast, and her evil eastern mantras, but she could not keep up with the Son’s vigor, and had to eat the food that gives men swift speed, but ages them beyond their years. The King and Queen threatened to war against her, but could not because she possessed the Great Son and would flea the castle if her way was not met.

But the King and Queen were smarter than the Mother, and formed an alliance with the Dog, and together they were able to expel her from the Castle. The Wicked Mother was sent back to the east, where she ate nothing but the food that ages and withered into nothing.

The people rejoiced at the Mother’s banishment. Too long had been her reign. They worried, though, that the alliance between the Dog and the royalty would be permanent. For several years they watched the Dog lie about in the tower of the castle. The King and Queen, though, raised the Great Son and taught him the prophesies of his future.

Once the Son grew into his full power, he stood up against the Dog. He denounced the Dog’s false claims and fruitless labors. With one hand the Great Son lifted the Dog off the ground and carried the Dog out of the castle and threw him away to rot on the islands below the peninsula. The son then traveled to the Holy Land and disbanded the Federation of Paranoia, returning the land to glory. He next created a kingdom for the people to call their own, near the castle, and erected an impregnable wall around the kingdom and the castle one thousand feet high. He then honored the King and Queen for their devotion and generosity.

At this time, all of the people of the Man celebrated, and threw a great feast. I joined their exclamation, shouting, “Great is the Son, who exiled the Dog and withered the Mother, and will keep the Revealed Mystery out of the kingdom and the castle forever. He is wonderful; whose name spans the alphabet.”

Listen up folks, the Man has spoken.

You Told Me So

You never hold the elevator when people ask you to. You pretend you don’t hear them, or you pretend to press the “open door” button when you’re really pushing the “close door” button. You don’t want to be stuck with those people in awkward silence for thirty seconds while you ascend to your floor. Also, you figure you’re in a hurry to get where you’re going and can’t spare the extra seven seconds to wait for some slowpokes.

When walking behind an elderly couple, you double your pace to get ahead of them, so they don’t slow you down.

When entering a store, you might push the door a little wider for the person behind you, but you won’t hold the door open and allow them to enter first. Unless they’re attractive. In that case, you wedge your foot against the door to prop it open and give a slight nod as they pass. You want them to notice how kind you are; how polite. Really, though, you’re just waiting to catch a glimpse of their ass.

When there’s a long line in the “exit only” lane on the freeway, you cut in at the last minute. You figure you’ve had a hard day at work and deserve the extra twenty minutes at home in front of your TV; never mind the five dozen people you cut off, adding precious minutes to the time they’re separated from their loved ones.

When you don’t want to attend a class, you hope the professor has fallen ill or broken a bone. It’s nothing against the professor; you just want a reason to skip class without feeling guilty.

You’re also secretly attracted to certain authority figures. You wish their spouses would die so you could comfort them. You wouldn’t be offended if they took advantage of you. You’d be a little bit honored.

When having sex with your lover, you sometimes think about their attractive friends. You imagine threesome scenarios initiated by your partner, so you can claim to be just going along with your lover’s wishes, when really you’re living out your fantasies.

When you pass the folks waiting at the bus stop, you wonder why they can’t get their finances in order and save enough money to buy a car. They should have stayed in school and gotten a real job, like me, you think.

You drive past the homeless on exit ramps, holding their signs, with your eyes focused intently on the horizon. You keep your windows rolled shut; maybe turn the radio up.

You drive past lemonade stands the same way.

If approached on the street by these bums, you lie. You pat your pockets weakly and claim you don’t have anything on you.

Sometimes cashiers give you incorrect change. When they give you too much, you pocket it happily: their poor math skills are your gain. When they shortchange you, you bitch and yell. You accuse them of cheating you. You don’t say anything, but you notice their foreign accents. You talk to their managers about the kind of thieving scum they’re hiring these days.

When you see a handicapped person, you don’t know where to look. You don’t want to stare, but you can’t imagine how they manage, and want to find out. You end up ignoring them completely, looking off into the distance above their head, which is made slightly easier by the fact that they’re sitting in a wheelchair.

You don’t have anything against gays, exactly. You just don’t want them to rub it in your face. You don’t really care what they do in the privacy of their own homes; you just don’t want to see it. You think it’s gross.

You’re bitter that there isn’t a White History Month, or a White Entertainment Television channel (WET), or scholarships specifically for smart white kids. You think it’s messed up that the standards for becoming a National Achievement Scholar are so much lower if you’re black than becoming a National Merit Scholar if you’re white, and are even lower if you’re a National Hispanic Achievement Scholar. You think all this affirmative action crap is just taking jobs from deserving, qualified white people and giving them to undereducated minorities, and all this PC BS is for liberal sissies.

You don’t understand restitution at all. You think, why should we have to pay blacks because their great grandparents were slaves? You don’t think you should have to pay at all: you didn’t own any slaves.

You don’t understand why you can’t hit a girl. You don’t physically abuse women, but you think it’s unfair that they say they want to be treated like equals, but still want to hold on to a few special privileges; like “ladies first” and the man paying for dinner.

You sometimes wish the car in front of you would spin out and somersault into the ditch, simply because you’ve never seen an accident before, and you’re bored.

You grin a little when smokers cough. You’re smarter than they are. You’re not pissing your life away at four dollars a pack. You know the dangers; so do they. If they don’t heed the warning, they deserve what they get. You’re fine with that, just so long as they stay away from you while they do it. You shouldn’t have to die for their recklessness.

Of course you’d never admit any of this. You just tuck it away in the recesses of your consciousness, like the vague sexual attraction you felt for your cousin years ago. You know it’s wrong, in the sense that it’s socially unacceptable, but you’d thought it just the same, despite yourself.



And when the apocalypse comes, when all the oil has been burned, and the ice caps have melted, and the coasts have flooded, and the crops won’t grow, and the animals are dying out species by species, and the people have wars over caches of Twinkies and cans of refried beans, and the planet itself is dying slowly, becoming another arid rock orbiting some random star in some random galaxy, you’ll feel a little smug.

You’ll know, deep down, that you saw this coming. Not that you did anything to stop it, or even warned anyone about it. You still drove your SUV. You only recycled if you found a recycling bin before you found a trash can. You cranked up the heat all winter and the AC all summer. You drove across town to save thirteen cents on a gallon of gas. But, when the environmentalist pussies said that global warming was imminent, you conceded, this could possibly happen, maybe.

You didn’t learn how to hunt without gunpowder. You didn’t build an earth pod high in the mountains with a generator and enough rations for a year. You didn’t study agricultural techniques like irrigation, organic composting, crop rotation, and soil enrichment. You can’t even start a fire without lighter fluid.

You will, however, hold over my head the belief that you saw it coming while we scour ghost towns for sustenance, search abandoned suburbs for survivors, and slowly starve; the inches around our waists dropping as quickly as the hair falling out of our scalps, and the molar you found resting in your hand instead of in your mouth when you woke up one morning. You’ve proclaimed yourself an atheist, but in the toughest times you find yourself begging for help, though you can’t figure out whom, exactly, you’re begging for mercy. Despite all the pain, and anguish, and depression, and sense of utter hopelessness, you’ll know that “you told me so.”

As if that were enough.