|god is dead, i killed him
||[09 Jan 2008|08:05pm]
I have this reoccuring day dream almost everyday. I am at daggers drawn with a single figure that embodies God, Yahweh and Muhammud, and all hell is about to break loose. It's tense, the sun is burning us. I have sweat running down my cheeks and God is just scared shit less.
The God I am at daggers drawn with is a God that plants himself in the depressing and oppressive concepts of what is know as the State and the Church. The only differences is that one is secular and now more powerful, and the other isn't. Unlike the secular liberals or nonsecular lunatics, I make no distinction. They both are killers of sinners (those that go against them), violent, and portray themsleves as the almighty saviours-prisoner-wardens of humanity. They keep us folk from living self-determined lives.
In the dream, I've wanted to kill God since I was birthed, since I first took a breath only to be muzzled by his Godly Demons. My whole unconcious life (that is, from 1 year old to 7ish) was just preperation for it. I would do things that were counter to what I was suppose to do. I would steal from church, work, school, dress outrageously, or cry my head off when the preacher or teacher was speaking. Then, when I gained my own muscle and strength, and with the help of lots of introspection in to my unconcious, I become concious of the fact that I must killed God. It's a must. I just want him dead, dead, dead. Bang, stab, bang, like that.
In my dream, I am like a ancient samurai/ninja building my sword. I spend years building my sword; there are 15 layers of the best metal in my sword, all flattened so that it's width is nearly a nano meter. I practice with my sword, chopping the heads, torsos, arms, etc, off of manicans in one fluid movement.
It was assumed that I was an atheist, and I just had some serious psychological issues. The doctors told me that craziness runs in my family. They told me to take a Prozac everyday, along with a healthy dose of education. But, I am not an atheist. Atheism is lazy, I told them. It's just as deluded and faithful as believing in god! And besides, I told them, I know where god lives. And he knows who I am. I know he knows what's coming for him: 8 inches of dagger. I should know, He has text.
I should tell you, amongst the angels, I am like Ted Bundy and Charles Manson combined. They flutter their wings frantically; feeling much like, if you can imagine, those fearful goosebumbs we get as humans. I guess they could be right. I have no sympathy or compassion to their friend God.
I would like nothing more to see his decapitated head in my hands.
Once I get to this God, I spit at his feet to show how serious I am. Cuz when you spit at someones feet, especially God's, they know you are crazy kamakazi motherfucker.
"Crazy homosexual motherfucker!" God exclaimed very martial arts master-life. He looked a bit offended. He added the homosexual bit cuz I hear he's not much of a fan of homos.
I laugh tell him that his mother was a piece of shit and that we fucked real hard last night.
He retorts that he has no mother, because he is the Creator of all that is living.
"You must have been sucking me off and didn't even know it." He says laughing.
I think about this for awhile, enough that he notices that I am having a hard time understand such a concept.
He notices and begins to laugh. He says in a voice of a arrogant elder, "My child, you come here to kill me and yet, you do not know that I have no mother, that I AM what builds the universe, that I am YOUR mother. I give everything meaning. And you even forget that last night you were busy sucking me off. Now go home, child, and read my word." Normally, someone with similar views, but with less confidence would give up and just fight her battle another day, or give in and reform. I have come too far, waited too long for this moment. I reply that I am not his child, that I recognize no authority that stands above me and that I have no time to argue against (nor do I have to!) my slave master. I am my own person who can create his own life. I can create my own ethics that are based on the here and now. I don't need your commandments, I need something that comes from me and the relationships that I develop on my own. I say I have the own power to create and destroy--and that he's about to feel some power in the form of steel.
"My child, such bravado! Such vengence. You argue like you know everything, like you do not respect me. What have I ever done to you? Don't you realize what I have given you? Dont you know--..."
I had grown tired of his ramblings. Whipping out my daggers, I charge. He is still busy telling me to give up and let him guide my way; but my adrenaline was rushing and I had forgotten that he was speaking. I was on a mission.
As I swung my daggers, as I screamed with fury and wrath that no devil could pull off, I asked myself if I had any second thoughts. I had only a milisecond to decide and I decided right. I quickly realized that God never fights back. He makes other people do that for him, and he makes them do it in his name. But, everyone, everything that he could use against me was too scared or too weak to stop me. And this coward, this murderer of worlds, cultures, people, was dead as quickly as I sprang.
He lay in two pieces like a piece of meat, bloody as hell. Both halves of his body stare at each other like mirror images. And, soon enough, he was crying to his real mother, Humanity. (And at that monent, I realised that I, apparently, was not a homosexual). His mother screamed at me and told me to put my sword away and that I would be in time out for the rest of my life. This whole time she didn't think I was serious, thought my dagger was plastic. She screamed that I'd sit in a dark, cold and moldy cell for the rest of my life. His mother told me that his son was all that gave her meaning. That even when people used him to kill millions upon millions of people, she still loved him. He was her knight, the protector, the one who allowed her to deny responsiblity for all the pain she inflicted upon herself and those millions. All she had to do, she said, was please him and his spokespeople on earth.
"Why is that so hard for you get? You kill my son, now I can only kill myself, because I have no meaning. I know not what to do with myself. Heaven and hell, poor and rich, mean nothing to me now. God, my son, made it all easy, all very black and white for me. Now you have killed the thing that unifies us all, you have made everything complicated."
"But, now, madam, the earth exists. It exists! The trees grow, the wind blows, water runs through your body giving you strength!
"There are multitudes of people who do not love your Godly God. Nothing unifies the human race except that we all breathe, feel and think. We are all the same, yet we are all very different. We live in different places, and thus we believe and do different things. We are not a mass of people, we are multitudes of people. Why not embrace the differences and the similarities? You believe that we must all be unified under the weight of your God, your son, but this misses so many things. You kill in the name of unity, you kill because you are afraid of differences. And look what you have done! All the wars in the world are started over your sick, sick creation. All those who have struggled to be human, to breathe, have only been stomped upon. Don't get me wrong, people who can be different can be violent towards you and if they are, you will fight them back. But, why waste your time using your son, God, as justification for fighting back? Why not fight for yourself and those you love?"
"I am already dead. I am ready to protest this monstrosity, to kill myself, to matyrise myself in the name of God. And if no one listens, my brothers and sisters will continue on after me. We will continue until this Godless world is completely dead. God is my martyr."