Friday, July 9, 2010

Hell and Insanity - A Diatribe

Hell, hath no fury, well...like Hell.
And, its never ever what you expect.

There is nothing to edit here except the story itself.
And if it could be divulged in the last remaining moments of Human History, this would be the most appropriate of times and places to share of this story.

After all, no one will be interested after all are dead.

And the madman screamed so all would listen:

"Succor and abandonment are the vestiges of a well spent life
and there is nothing to stop the innocent from leaving the stage before the end."

Or, so said the Sage that lost his way along the Path, and expired from lack of drink and experienced that, so great of a loss of energy, that we call it Death.

And so it is, to all that won't listen' and I send this warning:

Accept the truth, or die in knowing that the falsehoods prevailed.

The end is neigh and only Milton has seen the future.

Bacon's paintings are only a brief prelude to the actual events, as they will unfold.

And so, I wish you all the warmest of receptions and felicitations...in Hell. Or where ever you may land, in the end.

Socrates, will not be there to greet you. So be sad, yet fear not. However, a singing troupe called, Hitler's Henchmen, will play their penultimate set. They all sing in soprano and dance gaily around a freezing fire, that is at some point, to be the rest of your Eternity.

Praise the Righteous. As they are the ones who shall have had prevailed on Earth and will eventually be the most condemned in the After Life.

Little to their understanding, I might add.

The first of the wrestling matches will lead to the decision of which of the blind will be leading the blind.

It will be a tag team match between:

The Buddha, his contemporary, Confucius,
the recent favorite,
Jesus (don't you know that carpenters have strong arms and backs), and
Mohammad.

Vs.

Genghis Khan,
Vlad the Impaler,
Nero and
Goering (Hitler, will so typically excuse himself saying that his back is bothering him again; strange as it is, he fancies himself JFK).

And this will be what will in the end decide who will be the followers and
who will be the leaders, all in that great hall across the river Styx.

Do I hear the cheer?

Let the games begin!

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