chapter 01

Everything is true. Which won't make it boring. I'll do like a news reporters and pick out the high lights mostly to show you why I shouldn't be writing right now. But everyone should do an auto biography even if only their grandchildren read it.

Who knows. You might become a religion.

And I'm a gonna show you how come you got me to be the writer.

It got to be a real serious understanding of absolute clarity like I'd never seen anything so clear up till then.

The luckiest thing was, I got right clever and jumped into going back to school after quitting and doing drugs, which I might still do sometimes, and having no desire to learn.

Which got turned around very dramatically.

So let's start where it started to burn.

Brian and I were studying architectural technology in Fanshawe College of applied arts and sciences. It was 1982, our second year of college. Brian was a real weirdo that most people didn't try to hard too get to know and I was the other weirdo. Retro hippie. Though I never really believed I was. Later I would believe I was a bohemian. At least as long as the world still had slaves.

And most people liked me and with some I played hockey, Jeff and I got on real well and I was the first person he ever told that he masturbated. Which isn't significant except I had a lust to be open. And almost always got away with it.

We'll talk about Jeff later, he's the guy in the bible and I'll tell you already what I think most about him. And it's this. He looked truly stunned and sadly disappointed when I cut my hair off at the end of college.

And he did it in an honest way, not making a big point of it. Just branding it in as back up. It's long again. I've had it all off a few times.

But whatever.

Then I was up on top of the first mountain. I'd love to tell you first of the day before but later. The fire gotta get lit.

We were on a mountain between Banff and Lake Louise. Ask Brian exactly where. I mean if you're some kind of cop or something.

And the sun was a blazing and we had emerged into unmistakable paradise and ate it up. I climbed up a small rock plateau with full intention of having a morning dump exactly where the mountain goats had been minutes before.

Never mind about the dump satisfaction, we will skip ahead to when I stood up and gave my surroundings one real good looking at.

I was a born again atheist. Perhaps an oxymoron for someone who doesn't know me rightly. Someone might argue, life was my God. But this, my friend, is the story. And if I'm not mistaken, much how we were before we ran out of control with kings and queens, priests and sadducees.

I went back on down to find Brian, who I might have allowed to speak first. About a rodent he had followed.

"I'm going to be a writer."

Now we back up before Brian warns me of his mind set. He was right. But I had to write and he knows that too.

What was I backing up to.

Oh. The mild absurdity in this revelation.

I was a novice philosopher with a philosophy of me own. And not such a mild one. Normal wanna have the truth about it though.

Up until near the end of high school, after I'd quit and gone back. I was unbelievably bright. Everyone told me.

But I couldn't read or write.

So the idea of being a writer, which I so proposed to Brian, meaned if I wanted to be a writer, I'd have to do written things.

By the time I was on the top of the mountain, my English skills were already over par. I wanted to read Nietzsche. He was an angel of thought. And I was addicted.

"You can't do everything."

Brian said that. And my dad. And the big guy, Mike in our class, who everyone but me liked at first 'cause he was big and played football. He finally got real mad at me, which I must admit may have been my objective.

And he said, "You're a Jack of all trades and and ace of none."

What was actually a really nice way to say I was a flap mouth smart ass. And I think exactly then I liked him.

I didn't tell him but we managed very civil and friendly communication a while after that.

Interaction. It's much more significant, or it can be should one want it to be.

Then whatever.

I didn't tell him but we managed very civil and friendly communication after that.

Interaction. It's much more significant, or it can be should one want it to be.

Halifax, Nova Scotia. And if Hank Snow was alive he'd tell ya, he ain't so I will. It's a might good place to be born. It ranks way over Bethlehem. Already in 1960 they had all the comforts of mute distraction.

Is mute too foreshadowy for so early in the story.

But first before I forget. It is 25 years after standing on the mountain. 25 ain't even in my non religion cult beliefs but for exactly that reason or any other you wanna pick. I'm doing this. While I write right the new testament into the new new testament. And if I get shot, well maybe someone find this and make a million and donate 80 bucks to the get your brain on on fund.

Well, I didn't care who distracted who with what when I started.

I was the first child among all parents and grand-parents. My first unwritten mission was to charm my grandmother Rah so that she could forget my mother was a slut.

'Cause it wasn't true and I was born to have an aversion to lies.

And it worked, anyone who can have a kid as beautiful as me. Sure everyone says that. In my case it's true. I'm also a genius. So you know. I'm dyslexic and still after many years of writing, have terrible spelling. The bad grammar I do on purpose. So don't be fooled if I drop a few elegant sentences on you that make you think of Margaret Atwood or Neil Stephenson or David Copperfield, the writer guy. Dickens.

And sometimes I simply can not resist a little, but not often, for one should never over do anything, use variety and whatnot.

The Guy who wrote Tom Jones. And that book especially.

One more confession. This book is a result of coming close to blowing up my brain making a book say what I want it to.

And how I ended up on Jesus.

And still maintain atheism. But so was I when I was - I mean, so was Jesus.

The Jesus syndrome is a common enough thing. And when I wouldn't have said this 10 months ago. That's why I forget already.

Jesus Christ. Why would anyone wanna be Jesus Christ. Especially now that we know for a certainty there's nothing that is the God of Ab, Isaac, Cob and Moses. And Moses is crazy too. So as long as we know.

Let me illustrate.

Any God worth believing ain't gonna worry if some one don't buy it. Worshipping is simply insane. So there ain't even a real need to ask if there is a God.

Fuck 'em.

And I think, from my 25 years of looking from the thing at many angels.

Jesus was either an atheist or insane or not real. It's good to have a whole bunch of conclusions. It's also good not to make them into a religion. 'Cause when you get down to it. Now I do the illustration like I said I would. Then a break.

My grandpa Rah was a math professor at the university and I was one of his most favorite students.

We did Math for fun.

The premise on the God thing.

God is Life.

Well, I can live with it. But I tend to look at things backwards when at all possible to see how things look not backwards. Most things are, in case you are young and haven't noticed.

So Life is God.

Already I like it 10 times better. And anyone who understands math. And I don't jest. Not everyone does. But to honour my grandpa, I'll explain it so even a child can understand.

Life = God

human = x
   life     God

Now the most important thing to notice is that the equation don't really prove nothing. You can't buy anything with it.

But it illustrates that x is going to = humans.

And if Life = God. If we are part of life and the concept God is even just our will, it still makes it so.

So I'm the son of God. Or the son of life.

Along with 300,000,000 and dropping other creatures here on this little planet now.

Which if you put in perspective. We ain't really that significant for any gods of universes. If we want gods, which we seem to do, we gotta make them.

Or if we get real clever. Be them.

Anyone can do it.

chapter 02

I guess I better talk about my family. They are Christians. They were and still are. Baptists. To call them death cult worshippers wouldn't sound fair.

"Forgive them for they know what they do."

On the other hand, on a scale of one to ten, I was one of the fortunate.

Dad was born 24 years ahead of me in Windsor, Nova Scotia. The home town of one of the most beautiful sports in the world.

Ice hockey.

We'll get to ice hockey later. My grandfather was a Math professor. Grandmother was another story. And all the grandchildren loved them both because even though they went to a death cult baptist church, they were grand creatures.

All of their grandchildren were either clever or very clever. Even the one that was adopted. This is a good thing.

My mom came from the other side of the tracks. The other side of the provence in an even littler town. Not really hardly even.

And she was awful pretty.

There was somewhat more manic depravity in my mother's family. I told her she should write it and she has started.

Not the worst horror story but she was 11 or 12 when her mother noticed, after 4 children, that she was still young and beautiful at 28. So she got up and went.

Then the next wife of Grampy shows up and Mom is the woman of the house since five years and Mary don't like it.

And this is part of the reason my mother holds onto Jesus Christ in a book like it is her salvation.

We'll get to that.

She meets Dad in church. And Dad, like his Dad and his son, gets to not reasoning much when a young beautiful woman is present.

And mom liked him enough to allow sex before marriage. This seems a mute point to many. Not to those who believe without question. But if you accept the Laws of Moses as written in the old testament and threaded through the new. This is a major thing.

For a young Christian girl who is not prepared for a woman like Nanny. Or anyone else who would call her a slut. Like they did to the Mother of Jesus.

Which is both good and bad for me.

And I like that.

Well to make the whole thing more dramatic. I didn't even know I was technically a bastard. Until I was 16. I finally did the math. Because I didn't even understand the difference marriage made.

All I knew is that I lived with strange creatures.

It turned out, I was blessed like some kids are and anyone that didn't love me was a liar. So it saved me from my worse torture.

"Don't lie. But believe this Death Cult nonsense."

I hated lies. They crawled into my ears and ate at them until I couldn't hear.

And was taken to the doctor with another ear infection.

Okay. I'm suddenly board which means the reader might have been last page.

Later.

I often feel I'm trying to explain to my mother.

"Mother, let me briefly explain the universe. Our universe and don't interrupt with God can put dinosaur bones in rocks if he wants to test us."

"But it's true."

"No. Mother. It is the exact opposite. We, human beings have been gathering evidence. Maybe you have heard of Albert Einstein."

"He was a Jew."

"His parents called themselves Jews. Jews don't exist in real reality. And to stay on Albert. Let's talk relativity.

It is more probable that there are countless universes then only ours. But forget that for now. It's well beyond us.

Our universe is a little less than 14 billion years old and has been expanding, still averaging over light speed. In more directions than we are limited to here on Earth.

Let's hurry and get to Earth because the chances of finding a place like it closer than 200 million light years ain't good.

An unlivable desert of radiation, near nothingness and temperatures in outrageous extremes. Simple life can be found in ice and water.

But nothing like here.

Here is without a doubt an oasis like no other oasis in the heaven. Maybe there are a few like it. But the universe is relatively young.

It might even have more elements in store that what we have.

But what we have is so much like heaven it is almost pointless to build a space ship to go look for anywhere else. If we go anywhere else it will be with the life of this planet and a new life that the first gods create.

Artificial Intelligence.

Our making of it will make us the creators. And the first significant thing we create will be a singular God.

Which is quite ironic now that I think about it.

But never mind. It will be good.

Unfortunately, it won't be real soon so we gotta figure out a few things on our own.

We have figured out much from the workings of an atom, which even after argument would be so close to energy and space that matter becomes even a question."

"Do you have an answer."

"God."

Call it what you will. It is a very organized use of unbelievable amounts of energy. Example, Atom bombs.

And that's everything.

"So we are just a bunch of mixed up atoms."

"Sure. But not any old way. Certain atoms were brewed in the suns. Suns exploding. They are the simplest building blocks, the first of all things that can be. Why energy does this, who knows."

"God."

"Then God is a real big thing."

"He is."

"Look, if you wanna believe God made all the universe, that's cool and not relevent. It wasn't 6,000 years ago. It was much longer ago and we are relatively insignificant. It is the sour truth.

But if we wish to survive, well, intelligence is the ticket. Not faithfulness in Death Cults."

"I worship Jesus."

"Jesus is dead."

"No he ain't."

It's hopeless. If someone believes the Earth is 6,000 years old because we have interpreted it out of a book that is 4,000 years old and full of shit.

So I asked my sunday school teachers about the bible. No one else did. Kids didn't care what they believed. As long as they mostly could do what they wanted at least sometimes.

So we prayed to God and Jesus Christ our Lord and saviour like a bunch of idiot apes.

And I took piano lessons. I could read music no trouble. I wasn't the savant kid. But I was good when I practiced. And I liked music. It made more since than my parents.

Fuck. I'm bored again.

chapter 03

Dear Dad:

I figured out a couple of years after raging at Mother trying to explain that if I didn't want to believe her religion it didn't mean I and almost all the rest of the world would go to hell.

The whole concept infuriated me to distraction, as you are well aware, but this letter is being written in my auto biograph.

I'm going to do two. One now while I'm alive and I'm writing like a god.

Twenty five years ago I was at the top of a mountain with Brian and had the exact opposite religious experience as the Martin Luther story. I knew I was an atheist and at the same time I had accepted that Life was God and I didn't think to question it. The word God bothered me much too much at the time.

I didn't know what exactly. Or how long it would take to control my rage and do it like Jesus. Peacefully with the language.

Like you already told me on the phone a few months ago. And what my life has become.

Everything is backwards.

The Bible is not holy because it is true. It is impossible for a language to be true. And that is a truth. Too many things change.

Moses missed that there were dinosaurs and 14 billion years of universe before that. All of which had to be or we are impossible.

We already are next to impossible.

It makes one want to believe.

But believing can be dangerous. So we...

Timmy called from the throne. He wanted to be written into my story as the King sitting on the throne who called the writer of the word and demanded a short electronic audience to advise me how I should proceed as well, of course, much friendly talk about nothing really. The way angels tend to flower their messages to make one understand that the message is not a command but a sound piece of advice that one must take into consideration.

Here and now all of that is true. Some things are exactly backwards and for those who know which are absolutely backward it proves two really weird things.

Truth in words can be misinterpreted.

Timmy, quite by chance, if we believe in chance. Which also is only a word with partial truth.

It suggests that Timmy truly is an angel.

Now one could say this is a religious thought. I say it is a reality of evolution that the priests, the big business above it, does not like.

This bloody Christly magic waste of time nonsense.

This trying to evolve into creatures where anyone is Jesus Christ.

And not because I couldn't write on, but because I am learning to slow down. Now that I am rewriting the Torah and the New Testament.

One should learn when enough is enough.

My belief is that you should write. And the first short story should be the story of Jesus Christ. Maximum 100 pages.

Love John

P. S.

I forgot to mentions that the bible is holy because it helps preserve language and the beginning of our meaning.



chapters 04 - 06