Friday, September 14, 2007

Saskatoon, Easter Monday, 2000

I have previously told the story of how, when I was fifteen, I went up the Mountain of Paradise. (Those who might be new to this blog can find some more background discussion of these events in the September Archives titled ‘Banff’, ‘A Trail of Breadcrumbs’, ‘The Silver Bullet’, and ‘Prayer Warrior’, and ‘Porn Agenda’).

What happened to me on that Mountain of Eden was very beautiful, but what happened to me when I came down from that Mountain and returned to this place was very painful. I had to carry around in myself a secret which began to torture me, for I could not get anyone to listen to me nor did anyone believe what I was trying to tell them. Thousands of years had gone by, and we had religion with no gods, and for that reason the reputation of any so called god was that of a ruthless son of bitch and as everyone knew so very well you could sleep on a bed of nails and pray down on your knees on top of busted glass and never, ever would you ever ever get an answer from such a miserable miserly scrooge like that pitiless merciless bastard called ‘God’.

The pain of living with such a beautiful secret just increased over the years until my entire life was engulfed by pain, and in those times I cannot remember ever having even so much as one happy moment in each of those days that were days just like the day before which would be just like the day after. The experience of enduring such an emotionally exhausting ordeal seemed interminable.

It was for this reason that I went over the deep end and was pushed by my emotions and my strong desire to escape the painful experience to become very aggressive as I attempted to use force to make these people do what I told them to do. If I had to I would terrorize them so as to scare the hell out of them or bully them. I could not stop myself and this got me into trouble.

It was for this reason that on that famous day, the Monday right after Easter Sunday, in the year 2000, that my hometown of Saskatoon, Saskatchewan was visited by a very bad tempered and angry YAHWEH of Hosts, the God of the Garden of Eden. People who live in my hometown would remember that event. It was unforgettable. I received a roaring bawling out, that sounded like the judgment of an angry old judge, and then I was sent packing to my room to think about what I had done and what I was doing for about three days. I did eventually repent and make up my mind that somehow, someway, I would find the strength to wait a little longer without going over the top again.

What was most interesting about that experience of being publicly bawled out by YAHWEH was that first, I was publicly bawled out by YAHWEH. It was not a private thing, but then most things that have happened to me have never been private things but have been happening out in the open since the very beginning. The brilliant craft I encountered at Banff appeared over my hometown of Melville, Saskatchewan in the following months, and created a big stir which people who lived in that town at the time would still remember. Who could forget? The response to that big stir was that scientists gave out explanations through the media that we were being deceived by floating clouds of swamp gas, and on another occasion the local newspaper mocked us by claiming that we went hysterical over weather balloons. I still have the scanned clipping somewhere which I should post as soon as I can find it in my archives, for you see a newspaper does not need to mock us unless we were making noise and needed someone to shut us up.

For about one week after that Easter Monday event, I saw the signs of YAHWEH everywhere I went. It was on everyone’s face, the look of shocked astonishment frozen on their expressions. They were wide eyed and they remained that way for at least a full week. I went to the store and everyone there was wide eyed. I went to an office downtown to pay a bill on Thursday, which was four days later, and the clerk was wide eyed with horror. The look on his face said, ‘No, it can’t be. Not that. Not that. Anything but that.’ You see, he didn’t know that YAHWEH was the God of the Garden of Eden, and he thought that the religious fig leaf peddling Christian ‘god’ was God, and he was horrified, as you would expect, for this is the dreadful oppressor who tempts and then demands resistance to those temptations, and who boils naked Adam and naked Eve in boiling oil like a fish stick if they are caught without their decent moral fig leaf. That would be enough to horrify anyone.

Everywhere I went I saw the same thing happening. The look on their faces testified to the truth, but everyone was pretending that they didn’t notice that look on each other’s face and there was this conspiracy of silence, for no one was allowed to mention the word ‘God’ and everyone had to pretend that life was just going on as normal as though nothing had ever happened.

There is such a thing as killing two birds with one stone, to quote the old proverb, and at the same time that I was being disciplined I was also being tutored. I learned so much on that Monday in Saskatoon. I learned that religion sits there like a trap and a snare waiting for the day of YAHWEH to come so as to confuse and then destroy. I also learned that some people get caught in a sin and then they react irrationally. For most of them that sin of theirs would be their backstabbing and inhumane gossip.