[Mb-civic] The Father, Son, and Holy Cheeseburger

maxfury maxfury at granderiver.net
Tue Jan 11 12:32:17 PST 2005


The Father, Son, and Holy Cheeseburger



What a trip it is skimming through Hell here.  Who knows, maybe as the guy who was giving my battery a jump in the supermarket parking lot in my little town here who suddenly started talking like the entire Civic List in person stated maybe this *is* Hell.  He smiled, took the cables off the battery, and then left.

Who knows whether he is right or not, however he is not the first complete stranger throughout the years who has walked up to me out of the blue under one circumstance or the other and blurted out "What if this really *is* Hell, Cheeseburger...".

I always think about those people, now and then, as during the brief conversations we have, their knowledge of the world and a vast amount of subjects seem almost unsurpassed in quality, and then their closing statement always puts that red hot cherry on top of their apparent versedness.

And then I go on my merry little way, observing the world.  As I observe, it looks more and more like "Hell" the more I see.  LOL.

Oh well, right after I was talking about Jeb Bush going into Tsunami land to get some fake humanitarian credentials for future political purposes, my hard drive died.  I had sent that, and had just finished and sent an email to an old acquaintance who was enquiring how I was holding up after being forced into abject poverty and bankruptcy by taking care of my dying mother every night for 2 months as she went to heaven, and I replied that it wasn't going so well, I was still on foodstamps, unable to keep the utilities from going off now and then, and that the crying of the cats and dogs left in my care by my best friend and parents when I ran out of food was starting to get to me and that it wouldn't be so bad if they hadn't have ripped off most of the estate after mother went and left me to die with all the bills, and it would have been much better if all the rumors in this backstabbing gossipy little town that I had been fucking my best friend in the whole world, a woman in her 90's, and married her to swindle her out of her property, and that I had murdered both my parents and was dealing heroin to the elementary school children here hadn't have been reprinted by my cousin who works for the CIA or someone in his autobiography and sent around the world with my name attached to it.

But that I could live with it, just as I have been living with it for the last 18 months since mother went to heaven.  I hadn't told her yet that on top of all that, the tip of the iceberg, that yesterday I was over seeing some old friend of mine trying to get my computer fixed and their father came out and told me to take that thing off the pole (the giant american flag I fly on a pole on the back of my 30 year old rickety pickup for my father who was a vet and the 911 victims etc) and get that truck off his property and never show my face around there anymore.  It seems that on top of all the other great things that I am not but which other people seem to find it necessary to label and blame me with, I am unpatriotic for flying an american flag on my vehicle because I am not sitting in a wheelchair with all my arms and legs amputated from being wounded in WWII or Vietnam.

I related to my friend by email that I didn't feel so bad sometimes, even though I have lost 25 pounds from malnutrition, and that it was good I was so sane as I could mark the progress step by step that lack of good food does to the higher and other brain functions day by day, as I could look around the world, and even in this little crappy backstabbing town, and see people much worse off than myself, such as the Tsunami victims.

She then begged me to relate to her the name of the superstar millionaire who supposedly had an affair with my mother and hatched me that a woman called me up out of the blue 2 months after mother died and told me that story.  Actually, the woman began by asking me if I knew where I got my name from, I said no, she said "Your name was the name of my son whom your mother adored, he was a medic in WWII and someone cried "Medic!!" on the battlefield somewhere in Europe and my son rushed out to save the american gi and the nazis shot him in the head, when he died your mother named you after him, I was your mother's best friend, I held you in my arms when you were just a baby, by the way, do you know who your real father was...?"

Well, needless to say, I was still reeling from my mother's death, and to hear that come from some lady's mouth who said she was my mother's best friend, had held me in her arms as a baby, and I was named after her dead son, 2 months after mother went to heaven was quite interesting.  I still wonder about it.  And there is no one alive to confirm it, or those who could, won't.  She wouldn't tell me his name out right, but asked me if I was the son in the family with all the musical talent, instruments, vocals, etc, I replied yes, she then asked if I had seen a certain commercial on television about a certain product, I said yes, she said "That's him, that's your real father".  She then said "So if you wonder why your brothers had treated you like crap your whole life and left you to die, it was because not only were you only their half brother and your father was magnanimous enough to take you in instead of putting you in an orphanage, but your mother walked around with you and told everyone "This is my favorite son" always."

I contacted the millionaire superstar by email (actually usually you can't reach millionaire superstars, you reach their secretaries), and I related the story the woman had told me, and asked for confirmation, they got back to me once, and I never heard from them again.  I'm probably under federal investigation now or something for "harrassing a superstar millionaire", LOL.  

Anyway, 18 months after mother has gone, I still sit here and wonder.  On top of all the vicious rumors, I remember the stories that 2 women here related to me a few weeks before they went to heaven, they sat me down and said they wanted to talk to me, and then asked if I remembered any of my childhood, I replied no that it was completely wiped from my brain for the most part, they replied that that was most likely because you were severely beaten as a child, forced to sit 2 inches in front of the television for hours dressed in your sunday finest, and then locked in a closet until you stopped screaming and someone finally came and let you out, and that you would go to school as a child and all the teachers and nurses would rush up to you and asked you what happened because all your arms and legs were covered with black and brown giant bruises everywhere and you would reply each time "Oh, I just fell down" and nobody would blink.  I never knew those stories, those 2 women were one who gave me my first job here and the 2nd was like my aunt or something who was a surrogate mother now and then when my mother was in an asylum getting shock therapy, who later due to my sole efforts from a pay phone in Manhattan I was able to finally force them to get a 2nd doctor's opinion before just throwing mother away again (40 years of shock therapy, oh boy), and they determined she was never "crazy" but had a simple severe thyroid gland deficiency.

Well, anyway, after I sent that email to my friend, the exact second after I sent it, my computer exploded.

That's why you haven't heard from me in a while.

Is this "Hell"..?  Is there a "God"...?

Uhhh.......    LOL............

How the fuck would I know.  LOL..........

Let me put it like this, though.  The extremes between the "good" and the "bad" on this planet are so vast, that if this is not "Hell", then we are definitely under an "occupation force" of one sort or another.

Aliens?  Ghosts of those gone before here on Earth?  Scientists from the Future with time machines?  The "Devil" and his minions?  An invisible race that has lived here forever?  Uhhh....  Take your pick, or make one up yourself.

However you slice it, it is not simply chance, coincidence, and the natural order of things that envelops this planet, inbetween the rays of sunshine, with chaos, destruction, death, and darkness.

I am now typing from an old laptop of mine I was finally able to get up.

This should be a good example for The New World Order why poor people should not be allowed access to computers and the Internet.

And how was *your* weekend.....?

In closing, I offer a little prayer.  Dear God, whoever you are, please fuck up all the bastards and bitches of the world who make our lives miserable with willful malice and other things, and protect us from all the things that go bump in the night that you were too drunk to lock up when you made them.  If we're going to endlessly suffer here, at least give us some fucking weapons to defend ourselves with.

Thank you.  Your pal,.



Cheeseburger

- No, no, honest, it's nothing, just go back to sleep, you're only dreaming..........


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