Ramon Watkins

There is this character on the loose in the United States, who claims to be a prophet, and goes by the name ’Propnhet Yahweh’ (link to his blog). He also a You Tube Channel online. What Ramon does, or what he once did before I shut him down about two years ago, is that he calls down UFOs while people are watching, and then he preaches a big pile of stone aged superstitions based upon ruthless application of those awful laws found in the first five books of the Bible. Yes, Ramon is not much a lover of loving your lovers in the Gardens of Paradise, but he is quite keen on stoning to death porn stars and lynching homos and dykes, and there are many other weirdo ideas found in those laws, such as sacrificing pigeons and using their blood to clean mold and mildew out of your house, and I would suppose we can all expect to be forced to do those stone aged rules and regulations as well.



In a post in the September column titled ‘The Silver Bullet’ I mentioned to you people about those sociopathic weirdos I refer to as ‘the dragons’ and I showed you what evidence I had on those ‘dragons’. Ramon can show you even more evidence on those dragons, assuming that he finally gets something going and can call down a flying dragon for you people to see, so that he can save your soul by forcing you live under stoned aged Bible law. Keep in mind, people, that if you ‘get saved’ by Ramon, you cannot go to the Garden of Eden to spend your time with the God of Lovers loving your lovers, which is something you would want to do and would be a God someone could actually love, but instead you will have to live under Ramon’s ruthless theocracy being ruled over by a sadistic son of bitch, a god no one could love, and doing things no one wants to do, but will do if they feel this is the only way to save their souls from the merciless bastard and his lakes of fire.



I am writing here about Ramon because now that I am finding my voice and becoming more of a poet perhaps, and maybe, just maybe, I might be able to reach some people, in particular porn stars, with the message of the Gardens of Paradise, I see that Ramon and his followers are suddenly getting lots of attention at the same time, which concerns me, because those things he is calling down are ‘devils’ and certainly not angels. We know they are ‘devils’ because only a devil would help Ramon and his friends ‘save the world’ while a compassionate angel would help you go to the Garden of Paradise where you could love your many lovers, the gift of the God of Lovers, since the Garden is a lovers paradise. This should be obvious, but for some fucked up reason people get convinced that they need to cut their balls off and poke their eyeballs out of their heads with a salad fork when some preacher of vile superstitions manages to convince them that some god is actually a deranged maniac.



You do need to be concerned about Ramon because he is not just another religious nut. He actually does call down devils and now he has disciples calling down devils in various places in the world. One of his disciples posted the following grave warning to the unsaved souls of the world.

READ ALL MY BLOGS!!!!!! I'VE BEEN VISITED AND SHOWN THE TRUTH!!!! DO NOT BE FOOLED!!! CHRIST'S NAME WAS 100% NOT JESUS!!!!! PERIOD!!!!! DID YOU KNOW THE LETTER J IS ONLY 500 YEARS OLD AND "ESUS" IS SATAN??? CHRIST'S REAL HEBREW NAME IS YAHSHUA!!!
THIS IS WHAT I FOUND TONIGHT!!! WATCH THE VIDEOS!!!! PLEASE!!!! IT MAY SAVE YOU, YOUR FAMILYS AND FRIENDS SOULS!!!

Yes, you really don’t want to fuck up by adding on that letter ‘J’ thus screwing up your names and going to hell for it. This is how screwy Ramon’s followers become, and it needs to concern you, because Ramon is for real. Don’t get me wrong. He is no prophet. He works for weird fig leaf peddling snakes from above who have the psycho agenda of destroying gardens. The more successful I am the more likely you will be seeing more of Ramon and his friends and the more trouble they will be causing.



If you scroll down the September column you will find a piece titled ‘A trail of Bread Crumbs’ where I toss out a few pieces of evidence that I am a prophet of YAHWEH, preacher of the Garden of Eden, and one of those pieces of evidence is photographs of an experiment I was briefly conducting in reversing the aging process, which resulted in my half healed nose. I say half healed nose because I decided to leave the rest for later when I finally was able to get your complete and undivided attention. However, with Ramon getting busier, and looking like he might get busier still and cause havoc, I thought it would be good to perhaps pick up where I left off. Instead of cooling my heels and waiting in the lobby, perhaps I should get a running start on things.



I also intend to deal with Ramon by giving a few Bible teachings myself. For example, you can find a humorous satirical send up of The Ten Commandments on the linked page. You need to scroll to the bottom of the page, since the entire page is not on the Commandments. Ramon’s horrifying end times scenario of planetary destruction and lakes of fire for most of humanity etc etc is based heavily upon Revelations which is based heavily upon Daniel. Now I have already pointed out years ago that the Book of Daniel is a False Prophecy, and anyone interested can visit the link to consider the argument for yourself. I also have a page on heresy and forgery in the Bible which might be of some use.



Now the point to be made here is that I am so critical concerning that ruinous book, the Bible, and attempt to be so brutally honest, because I care about people and I don’t give a damn about doctrines, which is one of the main differences between myself and Ramon.



I thought I would post a few words about Ramon because it seems to me, the way things are working out, that your country, not to mention the planet, is about to be punished by getting Ramon Watkins as their prophet since they did not want me as a prophet, and you are going to have one hell of time dealing with the ruinous superstitions being spread around by that magician.

The Guru, the Poet

I feel that I have exhausted that persona I created, the tub thumping preacher ranting about moral values, at least for the time being. Now I feel a new urge coming on, the desire to be your Guru, your spiritual guide, and perhaps, if I can manage it, your poet. My spiritual guidance will only be of value to those repentant sinners who have turned from their sinful ways, and no longer indulge that grave sin of being back stabbing gossip. If you have crossed that bridge then perhaps you can benefit from my spiritual wisdom and you might appreciate the few bread crumbs I have to toss your way, such bread crumbs being what I have to toss out to let you know that I really am a prophet of YAHWEH, preacher of the Garden. This will have to do until the time of the banquet when we can feast together upon the entire loaf, but for a repentant sinner even bread crumbs should suffice, for as I have come to understand it is only unrepentant sinners who keep demanding that I meet their high standards and go off to bring back ever more of those all important bread crumbs. Now keep in mind that your spiritual guide is a fuck up, and so if I leave you scratching your head, wondering what the hell I am doing now, well just give me some time to figure it out myself, and then we’ll both know.

A few lyrics from the song ‘All Night Long’

Well my friends the time has come
To raise the roof and have some fun
Throw away the work to be done
Let the music play on ...
Everybody sing, everybody dance
Lose yourself in wild romance
We're going to Parti', Karamu', Fiesta, forever
Come on and sing along
We're going to Parti', Karamu', Fiesta, forever
Come on and sing along

People dancing all in the street
See the rhythm all in their feet
Life is good, wild and sweet
Let the music play on ...
Feel it in your heart and feel it in your soul
Let the music take control
We're going to Parti', Liming, Fiesta, forever
Come on and sing along
We're going to Parti', Liming, Fiesta, forever
Come on and sing my song

Into the Fire

Lyrics by Sarah McLachlan, that poet of Eden.

Mother teach me to walk again
Milk and honey so intoxicating

And into the fire
I’m reunited
Into the fire
I am the spark
Into the fire
I yearn for comfort

Open the doors that lead on in to Eden
No more cheap disguise
I follow the signs marked back to the beginning
No more compromise

Free the water that carries me to the sea
You I see as my security

I will stare into the sun until it’s light doesn’t blind me
I will walk into the fire until it’s heat doesn’t burn me
And I will feed the fire

Heaven Bound

How very lovely it has been to stroll through the Garden of God. How my heart thrills when I dream my dreams of the Paradise of Eden. How I long to linger there forever with my loved one.



Now Paradise is a vast Garden with endless rolling hills and countless streams and who can measure it. Many are its fruits. I have such a vivid imagination that I can actually feel the passionate release that I might feel if my loved one came to me after an absence of two hundred years spent gathering lilies in the valleys of paradise, and then returned to me. As I my arms wrap around my lover in a passionate embrace I can feel the intensity of that embrace. They do say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and an absence of two hundred years without my lover in my arms, I was feeling very, very fond of my lover when at long last my lover returned to me.



Yes, the Garden is an everlasting paradise, and so very many are its many fruits, and I would imagine that parting for two hundred years would be such sweet sorrow, and many would be the moments of such sweet sorrow, for how could I deny my lovers what my own heart desires, which is to wander through the fruit orchards filling my basket with peaches or walking beside swiftly running streams gathering lilies, for is not this paradise, this wonderful Garden, is not a lovers paradise.



Oh sweet embrace, oh the wonderful release of passion fulfilled, for my lover has returned to my arms after two hundred years. Oh my darling, my little one, my precious one, my love, how very good it is to embrace you once again. Oh how I have longed for you my love. Come, tell me where you have been. Who have you met, who have you embraced, who has captivated you, oh my wanderer, my little dove, my little lamb, my love.



Yes, I certainly do have a vivid imagination, because I can actually feel the passion of such an embrace when I imagine life in the Garden of Paradise where I know my lovers will be roaming the valleys and walking by the streams looking for lilies and gathering fruit with which to fill their baskets. Oh happy day, oh longing fulfilled when my lover returns after an absence of two hundred years.



I am a human being and many are the lovers I long to embrace for an eternity, if only for a moment at a time. It is this captivating vision of the beauty of human love that can so captivate a human heart that makes me abhor the thought of being heaven bound.



Yes, there are other gods we hear about besides YAHWEH, but they cannot win my heart. Oh abhorrent heaven up above, where I would sit on clouds playing some harp, while forever I must mourn my lost paradise. If the only goal in life is to escape the ruthless punishments of some so called who hates Eden then I suppose there might be something to say for dying and becoming a ghost and being heaven bound. If mere survival is enough to satisfy then perhaps even the sterilized life of the saints in heaven might be enough to satisfy. But how will I ever forget the longing in my heart for the Garden of Paradise, where I have walked if only for a brief time with my lovers here on earth. Oh, taste of Paradise, the gift of YAHWEH, my lover and my God.



Oh sterile heaven, enemy of my paradise, my lovely Garden in Eden, how could I ever love thee. Oh crusher of dreams, oh miserly scrooge, oh heavenly god. Leave me to my temptations and take thy holiness away from me, and give me death before heaven. At least in death all will silent and I will no longer pine for my lost Eden, my paradise in the Garden. Oh spare me the foul and ferocious ministrations of thy fierce and fiery hell and grant me this one small dignity of a quiet peaceful death. Oh mighty one, grant me death as you deliver me from temptations and slam the door eternally on my Garden Paradise.



How brutal and how cruel are the ministrations of these other gods whose names are mentioned here on earth, but whose names will be forgotten forever in the Gardens of Paradise.

Jig Saw Puzzle

As I have been experimenting with maintaining a blog it has occurred to me that a blog as a literary form is much like a jig saw puzzle. All you can do is to toss out a pile of puzzle pieces, and if there remain on earth those people who have a talent for working jig saw puzzles, perhaps they might be able to assemble the pieces and come up with a picture.

Perverted Pies

I thought I would post a red flag warning that if you proceed ahead in this blog you may get rudely slammed in the face by a tossed perverted sounding pie. Now previously I mentioned that one reason why I was tossing such a pie was out of anger at religion and a wish to be provocative. It has occurred to me that there was a second motivation for my tossing of perverted sounding pies, and this motive was probably more compelling as a driving force than the former explanation.



I am like a barn storming preacher ready to go out crusading around the nation, while pounding a pulpit and damning that most damnable of sins that so pisses me off – gossip, the destroyer of worlds.



People build dungeons, the lay brick upon brick, they make the walls thick, like the walls of a mighty fortress, and then everyone must enter in and dwell in the depths of this dungeon. What comes around goes around. Today the gossiper, tomorrow the gosipee.



Everyone has these all to human little quirks and kinks, those dreadful little secrets that no one must ever know, and therefore to protect ourselves from the flying knives and from the barbs of those razor edged tongues, everyone must live secretive hidden lives. No one must ever know, and the thought that somehow they might find out is just dreadful.



For this reason I thought I would be provocative and toss a few kinks into a shopping cart, in the hopes that these few items might be enough to satisfy any gossip who might stop by. Hopefully what is tossed into that cart will be enough to satisfy because I don’t want to toss such pies anymore and instead I wish to move on to doing other things, now that I have done my bit to satisfy the salacious, who might have been wondering to themselves just what kind of muck might be dug up around my pad. Consider each perverted pie to be a gift from me to you.

Meet Romeo, the little Adam

I have told the story of how I climbed the Mountain of Paradise in Banff National Park, and with a prayer, I cracked open those locked and sealed pearly gates. Now since no one has ever received an answer in prayer from God in thousands of years, no one believes me when I try to tell them that, yes, I did get a magnificent and glorious answer from the one they consider to be such a ruthless, merciless, pitiless scrooge and a son of a bitch.



In the hopes that it might help to convince people that it is possible to crack open those infamously locked and barred pearly gates, I thought that I would try yet one more time to introduce people to Romeo, the naked little Adam, for it was Romeo the little Adam who had the ear of God that evening, and perhaps if they knew Romeo they might be able to understand why the heart of God was so moved with passionate desire that no lock or bar would be allowed to stand in the way of a passionate embrace.



I was Romeo, the little lover, and I loved Adam. Oh how passionately I loved Adam. I saw all these little quirks and the all to human foibles and weaknesses in little Adam, and each time I saw such things, it always aroused within me these feelings of passionate love and compassionate affection. Human fuck ups seem to be required before my love reaction is triggered, and this seems to be true of me to this very day. I have told the story of how I began to do internet research on porn stars, in the hopes of humanizing these people who seemed like strangers to me, and who I very much wanted to know. My search led me to stumble upon Sean Lockhart, who, I discovered, is a fuck up, and this discovery of the humanity of Sean then triggered off feelings of overwhelming passion. I haven’t changed a bit since the time when I was Romeo the little Adam. I became so very fond of Sean. I love Sean Lockhart so very, very much, and I was so very happy that my research had led me to Sean and gave me the opportunity to get to know him. It was a little more than I was expecting when I began my research, but I was very pleased with the results, for I think it was this reaction of love and affection that I was hoping to find all along.



I was Romeo, but I was also little Adam, and how I loved to go walking in the Garden of Eden with my friend, that buck naked little Adam in the boy’s locker room after gym class. I loved Adam from the top of his head down to the tip of his toes. His body was like a wonderland, and he thrilled me so. It was all so mysterious, and none of it made any sense, but the very mystery of sexual attraction stirred up within me the most passionate feelings of love for God who had given me this glorious gift of thrilling sexual excitement.



How I loved YAHWEH, the God of the Garden of Eden, the giver of such generous gifts in such glorious abundance. I loved Adam, body and soul, and it was because I so passionately loved Adam that I so passionately loved God. I was a very devout child, and I was communing with God all the time, these times spent with God being one of the powerful memories of my youth. My prayers were filled with the same passion that I felt for Adam, for I loved YAHWEH and I loved YAHWEH’s beautiful garden.

The Christian God

How I longed to enter into paradise, to walk forever with Adam over verdant fields and beside bubbling streams, gathering lilies. I swore to my God that I would be loving Adam until long after the sun went nova, and even long after the last of the stars in heaven’s firmament burned out.



How generous were the gifts of YAHWEH, for I loved Adam not only for his mind or for those little quirks and foibles and failings that always aroused such passionate love within me, but I also loved Adam’s body. How lovely was his back and the way it curved down and then became his bum. His body was like marble inlaid with every sort of precious and wonderful jewel. The excitement, the mysterious passion his naked body would arouse within me was intoxicating and so very beautiful. How I longed to walk through the Garden of Paradise forever, with Adam, my love.



Now let us consider the Christian God, for unlike YAHWEH, the God of the Garden of Eden, whom I loved and revered with an unbridled passion, I hated that Christian God with a fervor that was equal and opposite to the love I felt for YAHWEH.



What a dirty old bastard that Christian God seemed to be to me. First the miserable prick created the enchanting allure of the naked Garden, that glorious Eden, and that lovely creature, Adam. It was so very intoxicating, and the Christian God gave this intoxication a name. It was called ‘temptation.’ Now no ‘temptation’ could ever be a genuine ‘temptation’ unless it was genuinely ‘tempting’. Since this bastard, the Christian God, was planning to ban all temptation, first it was required to create temptation, and to make it ever so tempting so that it would be a temptation so that temptation could be resisted.



Yes, that loathsome and warp minded Christian God expected me to resist the Garden, the lovely and intoxicating Garden, and to resist that glorious temptation so that I could become worthy of the sterility of some placed called heaven. In heaven there were no bodies, no filthy genitals, and no obscene bare bums to tempt me and cause me to go down into hell. I would be pure, for the Christian God wanted purity of heart, and that meant resisting those intoxicating and very alluring temptations of that most glorious of Gardens.



How I longed to walk naked forever through the Garden of Paradise, but that Christian God said no, that can never be. It was for me to become a ghost and live a pure and sacred life up in heaven. No Garden of Eden in Paradise for me.



I loved YAHWEH’s lovely Garden, and I loved to look at Adam, my beautiful lovely Adam. It was so very tempting to look at Adam. It was more than just tempting, it was irresistible and so mysteriously intoxicating. But the Christian God said that there would be no looking at Adam. It was tempting to look at Adam, his round bottom, his beautiful penis, his wonderful flat chest, yes it was irresistible, it was so very tempting, but I was to resist temptation, for it was tempting me, so ordered the Christian God. If I was unable to resist such an alluring and intoxicating temptation as was the naked human body then the Christian God said that I should take a steak knife and gouge the eyes right out of my head and throw those two eyeballs into fiery hell, for it would be better for me to go through life blind, and not being tempted, than for me to follow those two tempted eyeballs into hell. If I could not stop jerking off, then it would be better, said that Christian God, that I chop both hands off and throw those hands into the fiery hell, right along with those two gouged out eyeballs. Yes, it was tempting, that Christian God had made it all so tempting, and so only severe measures would ever make someone like me a suitable candidate to have my balls cut off and have myself turned into a permanently asexual ghost up in spiritual sexless heaven.



Now how could you not hate a manipulative old bastard like that fucking son of a bitch, the Christian God? Just as the love I felt for YAHWEH and for YAHWEH’s glorious Garden of Paradise was endless and eternal, so the hatred I felt in my heart for that loathsome oppressor, the Christian God, was also eternal, and while I longed to live for and with YAHWEH, the only desire I felt in my heart as it concerned that Christian God was to be allowed to die and cease to exist forever, disappearing into the void of nonexistent eternal blackness, rather than having that ruthless fucker throwing me into the lake of fiery hell. This humble request of mine, for eternal nonexistence seemed to be not to much to ask of that ruthless fucker, but there was no way to be sure if such a request would ever be granted by such a sadistic maniac.



I can only love God if I also love Adam, and if I love Adam’s body, for to sincerely and genuinely love God is to love YAHWEH’s Garden and to be a lover who dreams of sexual paradise, for YAHWEH is like a passionate lover and only a lover who longs to embrace their loved one can ever know God or love God.

Clitoris

If you are familiar with human anatomy and its development in the womb would know that we all start out as females, and we have a clitoris and ovaries. When appropriate hormones are released, a clitoris can then become a penis while ovaries drop out of the body cavity and become testicles.



A clitoris is the progenitor of the penis, and as every boy knows, there is nothing as glorious as the feeling of warm wetness wrapped around such a sensitive organ as the penis. The same is true of the clitoris. While a boy can slip a penis into a vagina and enjoy all the thrills that paradise has to offer, a clitoris has nowhere to go to experience such rapture. Therefore the clitoris must be sucked.



Now notice that I say that a clitoris must be sucked. Would a boy enjoy having his penis licked like a Popsicle? Boring. A clitoris is the female equivalent of the male penis, and it should be sucked the way a male would enjoy having his penis sucked. A clitoris should not be licked like a Popsicle stick.



Among the Bonobo apes the sucking of the female clitoris is a standard part of the Bonobo sexual repertoire. That the only useful purpose for a clitoris is that it should be sucked is something so obvious that even a monkey could figure it out, and this makes me mourn all those Christian women who lived in Christian societies over the ages of time and who therefore only got fucked and who never experience the same passion that a man experiences because they never had their clitoris properly sucked.



So therefore it is an act of sexual immorality for a man to be a pig and how that he is a selfish pig by being a glutton when it comes to pleasing himself by wrapping warm wetness around his own cock, while ruthlessly denying the same feeling of ecstasy to a woman. You get down there and suck that clitoris, straight boy, or it’s no more pussy for you, boy.

Pervert

I have been doing some thinking here, and it has occurred to me that perhaps it was not a fig leaf peddling snake who wrote pervert on my word processor, but that it could in fact have been YAHWEH who wrote ‘pervert’ just to clue me in and let this brain dead moron know that I just look like a pervert to you people.



It is my practice to not erase my traces. I do not use the delete button and I usually leave all my fuck ups out for the world to see. However the last thing in the world I need is to encourage people to be perverts, because this planet is already fucked up enough as it is.



Now let me explain my psychological motivations for being so shocking and brutally frank in writing about sex. It is motivated by a fury against religion and the deep hatred against God that religion creates in the human heart. If you wanted to invent someway to make the human heart overflow with ever lasting hatred towards God, there is no better way to accomplish this task that I can think of than to create a bare ass and then create a ‘temptation’ which will have to be resisted lest a ruthless bully come around and soak you with gasoline and then throw a fucking match onto the gasoline because you failed to resist that temptation. When I think about that fucked up thing known as religion, and in particular when I think about the Roman Catholic Church, the mother of such fuck ups, my frustration and fury with those dogmatic fuck ups and the years and years of stubbornly unrepentant pointless dogmatism coming from that godless godforsaken place known as a church, a great anger rises up inside me. I want to ram the biggest pie on earth right into the face of that church and just leave them to sit there and wait and maybe, just maybe, after two thousand years of being godforsaken and deserted perhaps a god of some kind or another might show up with a towel and wash the pie off the face of that fucked up place. It does seem rather unlikely.



Think of two thousand years of religion as being a scientific experiment. We can see that even if you repeat that same fucking experiment over and over and over again for two thousand fucking fucking years you get the same fucking fucking results each time. Let me spell it out for you. This great monstrous dragon opens its mouth and all of humanity is invited to march into the maw of that waiting dragon and to be devoured by the flames of its mouth and disappear forever into eternal endless nonexistence. A worse and more cruel punishment for a church I cannot imagine, and what is worse, is that even something that monstrous is not enough to get a church to repent. And that is something that just infuriates me, and it brings out outrageous conduct in me.



Who can ever say enough about the cruelty of religion, that old neglected whore. I have these images in my mind of a small child, like the child I once was, staring into the darkness of endless eternal blackness of nonexistence, while looking up at the sky and thinking about the cruel and vicious nature of any possible god like being that might exist, although there would be no way of knowing for sure one fucking way or the other, and as I ponder these images my fury just builds and builds inside of me, growing in intensity, as I think about that heartless, godless, rebellious, arrogant, deceitful thing known as a church.

Sean Lockhart and the Eden Boys

I double bunk with this brain dead moron, and because that trusting gullible moron that splits a suite with me cannot be trusted, I usually do not allow him to speak, and that is a mistake. So therefore I thought that I would attempt to put my feelings into a few words of my own, and then do a much better job by quoting from the Song of Solomon, since there is no point in reinventing the wheel, and that Song is so much better than anything I think I could ever write. For the purposes of this piece, I will address Sean, but really I feel that way about all those guys.



Oh, Sean, my little lamb, my darling, my love, my little dove (with a broken wing). Oh for so very long I have stood along on the side of the mountain and watched my lambs march off towards the horizon, where the smoke of destruction rises up in columns, and where all lambs go as they march through this life. Ahead on the road you can see the column of smoke rising, and you know that this is where you must go someday, into the flames of that destructive inferno and then off into the blackness of eternal endless nonexistence and the perpetual stillness of endless silence and eternally lasting darkness.


How my heart ached, and still does, over the ruinous destruction of my flock. They are now like sheep who wander and no shepherd can gather them. Many shepherds have scattered my flock.


When I returned from the Mountain of Paradise I did not then live a life full of joy and gladness. I did not open bottles of wine, and I did not feast upon banquet tables covered with the choicest fruits. I do not feast alone, and all my little lambs were gone, they were scattered and were found wandering. I called for them, but they did not respond.


Oh, my little lambs, my loves, for now I will have to let you go and allow you continue your march toward the horizon and the towering column smoke which you know awaits you someday. But while you march, you will hear my song. Perhaps my little lambs will respond someday to the lyrics of my love song.


Come home little lambs, to the Mountain of Paradise, to the Garden of God, to the banquet and to the joy and celebration that is to come, yes it is coming, someday it must come, my little ones, my darlings, the love of my heart and the aching longing of my soul.

Song of Solomon

I really don’t like the idea of erasing my fuck ups, and if I did it would be the first time. I like to leave everything naked and exposed to the world. However, to deal with any possible pervert problem my very provocative statements may have created, I thought I would describe my passionate feelings for Adam, and for Adam’s body, by perhaps quoting from the Song of Solomon in the Bible.

Do not gaze at me because I am swarthy, because the sun has scorched me. My mother’s sons were angry with me, they made me keeper of the vineyards; but, my own vineyard I have not kept!

Tell me, you whom my soul loves, where you pasture your flock, where you make it lie down at noon; for why should I be like one who wanders beside the flocks of your companions?

Your cheeks are comely with ornaments, your neck with strings of jewels.
We will make you ornaments of gold, studded with silver.
While the king was on his couch, my nard gave forth its fragrance.
My beloved is to me a bag of myrrh, that lies between my breasts.
My beloved is to me a cluster of henna blossoms in the vineyards of Engedi.
Behold, you are beautiful, my love; behold, you are beautiful; your eyes are doves.
Behold, you are beautiful, my beloved, truly lovely. Our couch is green;
the beams of our house are cedar, our rafters are pine.

As an apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among young men. With great delight I sat in his shadow, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.
He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.
Sustain me with raisins, refresh me with apples; for I am sick with love.
O that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand embraced me!

My beloved is like a gazelle, or a young stag. Behold, there he stands behind our wall, gazing in at the windows, looking through the lattice.
My beloved speaks and says to me: "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away;
for lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines are in blossom; they give forth fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

Catch us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vineyards, for our vineyards are in blossom.

Upon my bed by night I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him, but found him not; I called him, but he gave no answer.
"I will rise now and go about the city, in the streets and in the squares; I will seek him whom my soul loves." I sought him, but found him not.
The watchmen found me, as they went about in the city. "Have you seen him whom my soul loves?"
Scarcely had I passed them, when I found him whom my soul loves. I held him, and would not let him go until I had brought him into my mother’s house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me.

A garden fountain, a well of living water, and flowing streams from Lebanon.
Awake, O north wind, and come, O south wind! Blow upon my garden, let its fragrance be wafted abroad. Let my beloved come to his garden, and eat its choicest fruits.
I come to my garden, my love, I gather my myrrh with my spice, I eat my honeycomb with my honey, I drink my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink: drink deeply, O lovers!

I slept, but my heart was awake. Hark! my beloved is knocking. "Open to me, my love, my love, my dove, my perfect one; for my head is wet with dew, my locks with the drops of the night."

My beloved is all radiant and ruddy, distinguished among ten thousand.
His head is the finest gold; his locks are wavy, black as a raven.
His eyes are like doves beside springs of water, bathed in milk, fitly set.
His cheeks are like beds of spices, yielding fragrance. His lips are lilies, distilling liquid myrrh.
His arms are rounded gold, set with jewels. His body is ivory work, encrusted with sapphires.
His legs are alabaster columns, set upon bases of gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as the cedars.
His speech is most sweet, and he is altogether desirable. This is my beloved and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

I went down to the nut orchard, to look at the blossoms of the valley, to see whether the vines had budded, whether the pomegranates were in bloom.
Before I was aware, my fancy set me in a chariot beside my prince.

I am my beloved’s, and his desire is for me.
Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the fields, and lodge in the villages;
let us go out early to the vineyards, and see whether the vines have budded, whether the grape blossoms have opened and the pomegranates are in bloom. There I will give you my love.

The mandrakes give forth fragrance, and over our doors are all choice fruits, new as well as old, which I have laid up for you, O my beloved.
O that you were like a brother to me, that nursed at my mother’s breast! If I met you outside, I would kiss you, and none would despise me.
I would lead you and bring you into the house of my mother, and into the chamber of her that conceived me. I would give you spiced wine to drink, the juice of my pomegranates.
O that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand embraced me!

Who is that coming up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple tree I awakened you. There your mother was in travail with you, there she who bore you was in travail.
Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, jealousy is cruel as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a most vehement flame.

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it.

Snake Attack

Anyone who listens to me has to get used to the idea that I am the prophet of YAHWEH, the preacher of the Garden of Eden, and so therefore I have weird stories to tell, including some spooky ghost stories (see below).



For example, just this morning, I came under a fig leaf peddling snake attack. I opened my word processor and while I was working, I suddenly noticed the word 'pervert' typed on my page. I didn't type that.



So it would seem that I am doing a good job because I have pissed off that snake as I can see from that snake attack.

Loving God

Now that I have finished shocking and scandalizing and provoking people with brutally frank discussions of fagitry, I thought it would be good to say a few words about human sexuality and loving God.



First I make note of the fact that the main reason why religion hates God, and does not love God at all, is because of the ruthlessly fucked up sexual system which is found in our religions. You see, it is not possible to force oneself not to look at a cute bare bum and find it to be a cute bare bum without a feeling of deep bitterness, yes even a feeling of deep hatred for that son of bitch, that rotten bastard God. I know this to be true, for if I was ruthlessly forced to renounce my love of Adam's body then I know, just bhy exploring these feelings within myself, that the result would be an intense hatred of God, and not the love of God at all. Church people are like me, they are also human beings, and so despite their claims to have had the help of some ghost to purify their hearts of all sinful desires, I would assume that they are still bitterly hostile towards God, for as we know, even that ghost cannot save church people from the temptations that come along from time to time, the cute bare bums, those forbidden cute bare bums, that must, alas forever be kept under wrap under fig leaves, lest church people, filled with some ghost, should taste of the forbidden fruit of being mysteriously aroused by the sight of a cute bare ass and sin against that bastard God of theirs.



I use the term 'mysteriously' turned on and pleased by bare bums for it is a mystery why human beings should find a bare bum to be so thrilling. No one finds their sofa or the door knob to be exciting, but bare bums, oh yes, they are a cute and very thrilling thing.



It is because of our two thousand years of the religion of trying to hate bare bums that I now find such deep hatred and hostility towards God everywhere I go on this planet. It is my hope that my frank discussions of fagitry and my idealization of human sexuality will do something to help overcome this for the way things are right now the human race would rather die and go into eternal darkness forever than live with some old bastard God who forces them to resist the temptations of their own inborn nature, which tells you a lot about the true purposes of religious doctrine. If someone wanted to create hatred and animosity towards God in the human heart there would be no better way to do it than to create the kind of religions that have existed on this planet for thousands of years.

Outrage at Religion

It seems good to me to put into words the depth of my outrage and anger that I feel whenever I think about religion.



Could there be anything more offensive on the face of this godforsaken earth than the sight of religion going about doing its thing, while it is a religion without God?



A display of stubborn recalcitrance like that just infuriates me. I don't want even one more human child to look out into the darkness and face that fear of the yawning chasm of eternal blackness and death which is the product of religion. Religion without God is not the cure for that yawning fucking chasm, but the root cause. And that makes me supremely pissed off.



For years and years I have walked around like an old widow, dressed in black, with a black veil over my face, mourning because of the ruin of these people, these prisoners locked up in the gloomy dungeon. There really isn't one hell of a lot of love to be found in the heart of our religion nor is their a trace of genuine compassion to be found that fucking place. She is one stubborn bitch, religion is, and the children can sit and cower in the darkness, while that rebellious whore of a thing stubbornly preaches her doctrines and her dogmas, as though such doctrines and dogmas were what were precious on this planet. This certainly seems to be true of her, and she will not repent, nor will she open the door a crack.



She has doctrines and she has dogma, but she has no God, but she does have a pile of fucking bullshit theology to explain how some divorced whore is still, somehow, to be thought of as a married woman. Well I say fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck her. I am getting so fucking angry at religion. Do righteous people slam doors in the face of the human race?

Brent Corrigan

The new home of Brent Corrigan



I call myself ‘the prophet of YAHWEH’, and ‘the preacher of the Garden of Eden’, and one of my big projects at the present time is evangelizing porn stars. (Links : My first attempt … My second attempt which I think was an improvement … Sean Lockhart … (Part Four) : Do I like porn? … (Part Five) : Come join me in the Garden





Now someone might ask why I am now evangelizing porn stars and I would answer that I am working on this project right now because I am a moron. If I was a little sharper then I would have been evangelizing porn stars first and foremost, starting years ago, but because I am a little slow on the uptake I first spent fruitless years trying to evangelize churches instead. I am hoping that evangelizing porn stars will turn out to be much easier than evangelizing churches and won’t take years and years as is the case with evangelizing churches. This should prove to be the case since with a porn star you do not have the problem of first struggling to get rid of the fig leaf they have been using to cover their dicks and their pussies, and with a church you can spend years trying to remove the fig leaf, and get nowhere at the end of it all, because this is church and at church they consider that fig leaf to be their holiest of all things, and something definitely not to be screwed around with, and certainly never to be removed. For this reason I could never get around to evangelizing churches because I remained bogged down in that project of first removing that fig leaf and since this fig leaf removal is the prerequisite to successful evangelization I was never able to reach so much as square one with churches. With porn stars I have a running start because there is no fig leaf which means that I can get right down to business and start evangelizing porn stars right away, thus saving myself years and years of time and, yes, probably accomplishing something for the very first time in my life.



As part of my work I spent time attempting to understand porn stars by researching their internet presence in the form of personal blogs, and at the end of it all my search led me to Brent Corrigan. Not only was their one hell of a soap opera surrounding that fellow but it was also possible by using his blogs and by gathering together all the other traces of his presence scattered over the internet to begin to get a well formed picture of a real genuine living human being, which is exactly what I was hoping to discover when I began my search.



I discovered Adam, and I also discovered that Adam was involved in a big struggle to ditch the fig leaf while at the same time battling with the fig leaf peddling snake. Of course, being the prophet of YAHWEH I had to intervene and one of the purposes of my intervention was to build a high towering wall of protection around ‘Brent Corrigan’, and I am satisfied with the results. There still may be those who come up against him, but they will not prevail. If they do prevail they will prevail for a very short time because I will be back and that will be the end of their prevailing.



Now when Adam requires the services of an exterminator he should not try to do the job himself but rather he should call upon the services of a trained professional. If you had a leaky roof you wouldn’t try to fix the place yourself, but rather you would call for an experienced roofer. In the same way someone who requires the services of a professional snake batter, since the proper way to deal with fig leaf peddling snakes is to smack their skulls with a baseball bat. This might seem easy enough but you still need the services of a trained professional, someone who knows the snake in its natural habitat, its habits and ways, and thus can track down that snake, for you cannot bash in the head of fig leaf peddling snake if you don’t know where the snake is hiding out. It just logically follows.

The Eden Boys

Now before I go any further I thought that I would make clear my position regarding Adam and his gang of Eden boys.



I can speak about Eden boys with knowledge and insight since, you see, I was also an Eden boy. Let me tell you one visit to that boy’s locker room after gym class to romp in the Garden of Eden with that Adam who had ditched the leaf was always more than enough to get this Eden boy down on my knees and sincerely praising God Almighty, and more than once, too. A little further down on this blog I discuss how I was able to pray at Banff National Park, and for the first time in perhaps thousands of years, I was able to bust open the iron gates of the heavenlies and I got an answer from God. Now people keep insisting that I did not, even though I did, and the reason they doubt is that for thousands of years people have attempted to pray their way through those locked and sealed iron gates without success. However they were not Eden boys, and since YAHWEH is the God of the Garden of Eden, this meant that their prayers went unanswered, for if you answer the prays of an idol worshipper you are encouraging idol worship, and for that reason YAHWEH was only willing to answer the prayer of an Eden boy.



Now I was an Eden with no fig leaf, and I loved YAHWEH’s Garden, or at least the little slice of paradise that can be found in a fig leafed civilization such as ours, which happened to be that little Eden in the boy’s locker room after gym class. I knew, somehow I just knew, when I was sincerely saying my devout prayers praising YAHWEH for that beautiful Garden and that Adam whom I adored so very much, that I was YAHWEH’s love child. One of those prayers that I said at Banff could be paraphrased in the following way : “We both know that I am your number one, and I know that you cannot resist holding my in your arms in a passionate embrace, and for that reason I think that you and I should throw off all restraint and just give into our desire and embrace right now, this very evening, here in Banff.” As I said, I knew I was number one, and I was right, because YAHWEH is like a lover and YAHWEH just passionately loved that little Adam so very much, and little Adam knew it, too. All the passion of my prayers in the years prior to my trip to Banff had built up my powers as a prayer warrior and I was able to pray just as passionately at Banff as I had been learning to pray at home in my bedroom every day after we had gym class, and so for that reason I, the little Adam, was able to pray my way into the arms of my beloved while religious people prayed for thousands of years and received only ice cold silence. You see, I knew what I was doing and I knew who I was praying to and what I was praying for. That turns out to make all the difference in the world, and so the fact that religious people have given prayer a bad name turns out to mean sweet fuck all at the end of it all, and I did ask and I did receive, hard as people seem to think such a thing is to believe.



So then my attitude towards Adam and his gang of Eden boys is to leave them to romp in the Garden. They are just Eden boys having fun while they long with passion in their hearts to celebrate the joys of being human during the time they spend under the sun. While I do realize that my attitude of acceptance of romping Eden boys would be considered outrageous by religious sorts who consider fun to be a crime punishable by worse than death, I would remind people that these are the same people who couldn’t get so much as one pray answered for thousands of years, and when you are the people whom God has steadfastly deserted and refused to acknowledge for so very long this makes me wonder where such people get the arrogant insolence to claim to speak for God when it should be crystal clear, after thousands of years, that God does not speak to them and therefore certainly would not be speaking through them.

A Trail of Bread Crumbs

Before I continue blogging away here, I would like to draw the reader’s attention to a trail of bread crumbs, since you cannot have a genuine prophet of YAHWEH on the job without there being a trail of bread crumbs to follow that form a trail leading back to the original source, which was YAHWEH God. I feel it is required that I briefly go over this matter since although I am a prophet of YAHWEH, and should therefore be much more famous than I am, the truth is that even after all these years I find that I still must go back to the beginning and start over again, doing this over and over again, since every attempt is made to deny me any sort of history in this place, which then requires me to start from the beginning over and over again, every single time I encounter someone new.




I told you the story of how when I was fifteen the brilliant glowing craft appeared at Banff National Park. The craft then followed my family to Jasper, and then to Meadow Lake, and finally back to my hometown of Melville, Saskatchewan. Naturally this caused a big stir in that town, and I remember the people who saw them. People were also doing that thing that people do when such strange things begin to happen, which is calling the police and calling the media. I remember one kid, whose name was Craig, who was out every evening with his toy telescope trying to get a closer look.



Now in my intellect I knew that what was happening was very real, but at the same time I noticed this bizarre conflict which existed within my personality. I knew it was real and yet at the same time it did not feel real. My mind was pulling me in one direction while my emotions were constantly trying to pull me back to where I came from. It took some time before my emotions settled down and began to agree with my head. This was a strange experience and I mention it because it is inevitable that sooner or later you will be experiencing something similar.



I would love so very much to be able to convince you not to follow your emotions which will be pulling you back onto the road you were on before, where you will then begin to continue your trek towards the horizon and the awaiting inferno that every human being sees burning in the distance, and which waits to consume them and destroy them somewhere further down the road. Your heart is on this road, and will not easily leave this road behind, because it is all it has ever experienced.



I could try to appeal to your mind, instead of to your emotions, by showing you a few pieces of observable data. For example, are you familiar with that ‘Eden Wing’ made out of clouds? (Here is the link Eden Wing Press Release
) What happened here is that a giant cloud shaped like a wing was unfolded like a banner over the barren Sahara desert during the Earth Day Weekend, 2001. The press releases are dated Friday evening, and the wing appeared on Sunday, April 22nd, 2001, two days later. The idea behind that stunt was to announce ‘The Garden of Eden,’ by employing the metaphor of a desert transformed into a Garden, with the Garden protected by a wing much like the wing of a mother bird might shelter a chick. I really am embarrassed by those foolish sounding press releases, but you see, I was much more the clueless moron back in those days, and everything I have been through since then has made me a little wiser.




About a year and half ago I started up on another plan to ‘announce the Garden of Eden’. This involves reversing the aging process. Now have you ever heard of some old fag becoming a young fag? Now people think that praying to YAHWEH God and getting an answer is idiotic, and so I must assume that they would be equally convinced of the stupidity of someone suggesting something so stupid. And yet once again there is observable physical evidence that I documented on my website and which is still visible on my nose, which is half healed. I had a sun damaged nose which upon which I proceeded to reverse the aging process while documenting the physical changes on my website. I only went half way on that project and then I stopped because I want to change the way the world thinks, and I can’t do that if no one is paying attention, and so I will wait. However even that half healed nose of mine is significant, because this is physical evidence, and not some crack pot dream. Who has despised the day of small beginnings? Someone might say, ‘it is only a half healed nose, which is to miss the point, because, you see, it is a half healed nose. It should be a completely ruined nose but it is a half healed nose. If you can think of anyone else on the planet with a ruined nose pulling a rabbit out of a hat and coming up with even so much as a half healed nose, let me know. To see some pictures you can follow the links. Page One … Page Two … Page Three … Page Four



There is also a related page on the theory of evolution, related because the physical transformations that took place on that ruined nose and the physical changes which took place during the evolution of species are both caused by the same process (‘biological algorithms’). Principles of Evolution

Every Old Fags Dream

I am the dream come true of every old fag in the world, and just the cure for what ails any bitter old queen. You might think that this means that I am one of those Eden boys, but that was over thirty years ago. But that doesn’t matter, I am still every old fags dream, for you see, YAHWEH still loves little Adam, and YAHWEH wants little Adam back.



Let me ask you people again : Who has despised the day of small beginnings? You know something, I have labored for years and you people will just never, ever give me a break, and is it me who is not getting a break. Is it not you people who are hurting yourselves to your own harm?



You know, I went through most of my life in the deepest grief and sorrow. Yes, I was dressed in black like a widow with a black veil over my face in the deepest mourning over you people. I knew that no matter how many times I tried to get you to understand that I had just come back from the Garden of Eden you would not believe my testimony. I had no choice but to let you go back to your life and to continue your death march towards the inferno of destruction awaiting you just over the horizon. To see a planet full of people doing something so ruinously useless was a pain in my heart that just never did heal. I was helpless before your blindness and powerless to do anything about your deafness, and constantly stymied by your reckless ruinous stubbornness. This problem continues to this day, because I keep tossing out bread crumbs, and the buzzards peck them up and carry them away.



The one thing that has changed in my life is that after my last ‘nervous breakdown’ last month, I no longer mourn for you people. It is a waste of my time. I will continue to make the attempt to reach out to you, and then I will leave you to return to the arms of your lovers, so that you might once again join in a passionate embrace while the great painful sadness of the shortness of your embrace washes over you in waves, as is typical behavior for people such as you. You can embrace your lover and embrace your sorrow at the shortness of it all, as you long for a long, long embrace as sadness and sorrow washes over you in waves. Are you as in love with your own sorrow as you are in love with your lovers? Is grief like a lover to you people from whom you cannot bear to be parted. I will leave you to your lover and as for myself from this day forward I am going to live my life emotionally detached from you people. I will no longer share your pain. You can feel it yourself. Is it not your own fault? You have made your choices, and now go and live with your choices if you can. Have a pity party, but don’t expect any pity from me.

Scandalous Bon Bons

Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you people. The reason why you do not give me a chance is because you people are unrepentant sinners, and your sins are like an iron wall which prevent you from ever entering into paradise.



Your sin is found in your mouth. It is gossip, that cruel and filthy habit of yours. It is those salacious little bon bons of scandal and back stabbing that you people indulge in as though you were indulging yourself in little sweet treats. I hear you around the coffee table at work, and I am appalled by your cruelty and the wickedness of your gossiping back stabbing mouths. This is the sin that keeps you out of paradise. Do you get so much pleasure from your backstabbing gossip that it is even worth trading for the pleasures of paradise? I would certainly hope so, for because of that one filthy sin of yours and the dreadful inhumanity that has rooted itself down in your nasty heart you have traded paradise for those painful embraces and the great sorrow that lives in your heart at the shortness of it all and the cold icy silence of God, assuming that any such God even exists any more in the ruined hearts of you people, since it has been so very, very long, yes, such a very very long long time.



No one can repent and stop sinning by breaking their filthy addiction to nasty gossip for fear of facing down the fury of the pack. Therefore everyone marches in step carrying on with that filthy life destroying addiction to nasty gossip, which is you sin, and for most of you, just about the only really major life destroying sin you have. Such a thought is thoroughly disgusting to me. I will hold my hands out to you everyday but you will wall me off and keep me trapped and locked away because you yourself are wall off and trapped by a filthy sin from which you do not repent..