My Writing and Art lives here….
Brazen False Authority
Rides Deception’s Wings
Rules our Modern Times
& Plans Your Demise
Its Mouths Multiplied
Eyes Everywhere
Ears Engaged
It Counts Down
The Predetermined Date
The Final Flaunted Fling
Where You Will Demand
The Sale Of Your Soul
Is Finally Finalised
If You Are Born Into Madness – Madness Is Normal & Unseen.
You Can Be Born Into a Mad Family,
Or a Mad Town,
Or a Mad Nation,
Or a Mad Planet,
Or All Of The Above.
But You Can See Madness – If You Work Hard,
& Strive To Be a Contrarian – An Independant Thinker.
It Is Worthwhile,
& Despite The False Adage “Ignorance Is Bliss”,
Truth Is Nirvana.
They’ll Hate You For Wanting It.
They’ll Hate You For Seeing It.
They’ll Hate You For Teaching It.
Wear That Badge Of Honor,
That The Madman Pinned On Your Chest.
For When A Madman Calls You A Madman
You Must Not Be Mad.
As Two Negatives Multiplied,
Always Make A Positive.
Live In A Universe Of Positively Truthful Nirvana,
Where The Madmen Are Slowly Disappearing From View.
I was 22 years Old
And behind the Bar.
A working-class bar where the old coots give you shit.
The more they drink the more confidant they get.
The jokes were always bad.
The couple owners were old close to retirement,
and the tough as boots old lady had an eagle eye at all times.
My first week she told me to the dairy go next door for a “long weight”,
I fell for it like a total boob.
The old man was a classic old time slow grafter,
who occasionally when drunk propositioned and squeezed the female bar staff.
He did it to the lady that ended up lifting his cash from him.
I guess that’s why she allowed it.
There was the devil eyed nasty alcoholic teacher lady,
Who took a disliking to me,
I assume it was because at the time I looked far too much ”young anglo male’,
And she probably deep down wanted to be one too.
Or she was probably just a garden variety mad as hell teacher who hated herself.
There was my manager was 36 and partied every night,
I couldn’t keep up with him, I tried for a week.
There was the old Naval Hero who was the cook,
A sneaky old coot that tried to push me around.
if 3 people ordered a meal at the same time he panicked,
much like a MGM cartoon character about to be blown up.
The joint was laden with smoke from cigarette smokers,
That second hand smoke annoyed the hell outa me.
There were the gamblers at the pokie machines,
They sadly played pushing the button time after time,
desperately hoping for “free spins”.
If I only had a pint of beer for every time a Jackpot winner said:
“Thank god I can pay the electric bill now”,
I’d never pay for a beer again.
There was the dopey musclehead who had a too decent Japanese wife,
He was running around behind her back with some drunkard whore.
One day a tough guy came in and threatened us behind the bar,
the musclehead cowered despite his muscles,
He was still the weak bullied kid in his mind.
There was the punter with ginger beard double denim & cowboy hat a wannabe “outlaw”,
he gave me a lot of shit, then one day I gave him two barrels back,
Which drew hoops and claps from the gallery.
The Pub’s suburb was the same one my Paternal Grandad, (Father as a kid) & Great Grandfather had lived in,
some 35 years later.
The Grandfather was a Drunk – and here I was serving his type.
I didn’t think much of that but the older I got the spookier I thought of it.
When the Rugby was on it was packed out,
Any ‘hospo’ worker knows how hard a job it is when a bar’s packed out.
No one gives Hospo workers credit – how bizarre!
They allow people to blow off steam, take a tone of crap & feed people,
That’s an important job if you ask me.
One day the owners sold out & retired.
The option was given to stay on with the new owners,
no one wanted to do it, including me.
It must have been an alright time.
That reminds me, I had a fling with a customer the red head student teacher once,
She wasn’t a supermodel, but I was male & 23,
23 yr old males don’t say know to a “free meal”.
Why are Teachers so horny? Is it the stress of their jobs?
It was twenty years ago now, and I still remember those years well.
I went back to the Bar a few months ago,
A few changes but roughly the same.
I saw a few wooden seats that were the exact same seats.
I ordered a coke so as not to seem odd.
It would have been nice to see an old face – alas there was none.
I wondered how many of those lovable old coots had passed.
RIP to all those old coots of that Chatty Bar in New Brighton Christchurch, NZ.
I still remember ya’s.
Mediocretus is the town with zero growth.
There are a few thousand people, and it’s been this way for many, many years.
The surrounding towns have grown by the thousands,
Their People having prospered with their human-preceding, abundant terrestrial-material.
The stuff that was given to them, from the time before History Was Written.
Yet THIS rebellion-of-the-good town named Mediocretus has steadfastly refused to partake,
It has slapped the face of the precious land, fruit & waters, that preceded its peopling.
This the town defined by Spiritual Mediocrity – THIS IS MEDIOCRETUS.
By Name & by FREAK OF Nature.
It doesn’t partake in strangers ‘blow-ins’, ‘city slickers’ or Good People with Good Ideas.
It despises the knowledgeable & has even worse in store for the well-seasoned & wisened.
NO, this town is committed to Abject Mediocrity.
It’s happy being backward, afraid, uninspiring, a-social, anti-life.
In short – it is the Spiritual Wasteland of a Spiritual Wasteland.
It’s the town where the “cool teenagers” – the worst humans, kept their false status as aged Lizard Kings.
The towns Losers have found a winning-strategy in hiding their 100-Proof Mediocrity,
They are highly astute at being Ultra-Aloof to any ‘Alien’ that dare show ‘life force’.
Thus, the Zombies play a murderous game of smoke & mirrors – aka High-End Deception.
By this structural Ultra-Unfriendliness, the Mediocretan’s MURDER ALL THAT IS GOOD IN THE WORLD.
Why would the Mediocretan’s stick to such a Hellish outlook towards Enlightenment & the Good?
Why would they create a Social & Economic Living Hell,
Why would they create a prime commandment of Spiritual Darkness in Mediocretus Town?
I ask you oh Supreme Being – What is their Motivation?
Well, I’ll have a stab in the Dark Cavernous Void,
Christ did say “Forgive them Father- for they know not what they do” while being killed by heathens.
Thus, The Spiritually Lost in Mediocretus cannot do otherwise, but to invite darkness into their hearts.
And, so it is a fact – that is what this town must manifest itself as –
A Underworld Town Of Spiritual Darkness.
But deep down, even the Halfwit Zombies of Mediocre-Town must know this Truth to be True.
It must register in the recesses of their tiny corrupted worm-minds.
true Mediocretan’s must dread the possibility of rightful judgement & divine retribution.
Payback might & probably does happen outside this realm – but it unquestionably happens INSIDE this realm.
The Arrow of Retribution pierces the black un-beating hearts of the true inhabitants of Mediocretus.
For Punishment already happens to these Walking Dead, these Zombies – it is Their Own Lives.
It is an Everyday Mark of the Beast.
It becomes written in their weathered faces & far too early crippled bodies.
True Medeocretan’s suffer from EE-OH-VED – ‘Early-Onset-Vengeful-Eternal-Damnation”
For their self-styled deceitful & seemingly “Winning” Loser’s strategy, has ONE major flaw
Their Deadly Charade of ‘Aloofness as Virtue’ can never work – in the here and now of Mediocretus.
Thus, they are doubly condemned – On Earth Now & After they Bite & Swallow the Maggotted Dust.
Woe To Be Them.
Woe To Be Like Them.
Woe To Be With Them.
Woe to the Loving Few – who have the Zombies of Mediocretus spiritually attack them,
For this WILL happen to all those that bear the fruit of Love & Decency.
And So What of Strategies?
The Lovingly Enlightened must dust their feet off,
And steadfastly inhabit the Spiritual Towns that exist in other realms & dimensions.
You do not need to be where your body is.
So Let the Zombies Devour Each Other.
Let them tear the rotten flesh from one another,
let them Cannibalise their own entrails
Let them falsely accuse you – The Brethren Of The Good,
Let Their Soul-less Hearts Drown in The Lakes of Their Own Putrefied Blood,
In All the Mediocretus Doppelganger Town-Worlds that exist Infinitely –
Those Duplicated Mediocre-Towns that infest Earth, The Galaxy,
Other Galaxies & Other Universes.
For the creators of Mediocretus,
Will Always Reap the Darkness they Sow.
It is simple Destiny,
What Was, Is, And Will Always Be.
The Loving’s Goal is to simply understand these TRUTHS as inalienable fact.
So as to Smile Broadly through the Storms & Headwinds that is ‘Life in Mediocretus’.
Rest Easy, The Walking Undead of Mediocretus Don’t & Can’t Ever Win.
There Is No Stronger Truth In Existence Of Everything That Ever Was, is, or Will Be.
I -Burt Jones – was doing some Garden Laboring for a 90-year-old woman – Lois Schrub.
We ambled onto the topical subject of ‘War”.
Namely: Putin, Ukraine & the associated madness that is “WAR”.
As an aside the War is sometimes weirdly comforting to me,
But I’d never say that to any neuro-typical.
This must be due to “Past Childhood Trauma” –
& also as I am on the opposite side of the Earth.
For this feeling can’t come from a healthy place –
That is self-evident – but I also squash this minor worry with utmost ease.
Back to the Garden: As I’m wielding a spade about to dig a plant – hole, the old lady says
“Oh it’s all THESE SILLY MEN that Create War”.
Out of politeness I simply and truncatedly said:
“I dunno – Thatcher gave it a good crack – She Invaded the Falklands without much of a thought”.
Silence then propagated around the tussock-filled hills.
The Crickets heard Crickets.
The back Breaking Work Continued
The Holes were all Dug & The Money I did gather.
Later on, at home, I though how ridiculous her proposition was:
This very common proposition – put out there by many Feminist-oriented women.
That by virtue of being Female – this means you Can’t be a WARLORD.
I’ve learnt a few things in my life, and one of them is this:
WOMEN LOVE RESOURCES & WILL FIGHT FOR THEM.
All the better if they can be ACQUIRED economically.
Attractive Women Won’t Marry old ugly men – UNLESS they have cash/resources.
Women almost NEVER marry a POOR MAN, perhaps will, only if he has POTENTIAL for WEALTH.
A woman will often “UPGRADE” her man based on his ACCESS to RESOURCES.
Have you noticed how a Woman’s allegiance to her “Sports Team” wavers very easily & she will regularly & unemotionally exchange her LOSING TEAM for a WINNING ONE?
This OF COURSE – is at root due to the biological programming of the child bearer – the SURVIVAL NEED to provide for the child.
You cannot wisely ignore or minimise the biological programming of our species or any other – to do so is folly.
I ASK YOU – Has anyone ever seen a Woman who ISN’T Interested in GAINING RESOURCES?
Perhaps only when they are carefree young and collegial from the ages of 16-22.
At Age 23, they ‘Don the Invisible War Regalia’ – cloaked inside the psyche.
To continue the Debunk:, The “Snapped” Murder themed Tv Show tells us:
Women are only too willing to send a man out to kill another man, always in order to GAIN RESOURCES.
I ASK YOU – When a Politician/Warlord “Sends In The Troops” to “Invade & Kill the Enemy” – isn’t this just the exact SAME EFFECT – A RESOURCE GRAB? – FOR LAND – OIL – FOOD – MONEY – TRADE ROUTES?
Thus, in answer to the “Women Aren’t Warmongers Thesis”, I say this:
If you put a Woman in charge of a relatively strong country…
Add a Military
Add Willing Soldiers
Add Plenty War Funds,
Add a BIG Crisis i.e. A LACK OF RESOURCES
Add a DOPEY WEAK Neighbouring country that HAS SAID RESOURCES REQUIRED TO END SAID CRISIS:
SHE WILL INDUBITIBLY INSTRUCT HER TROOPS TO INVADE IN A SPLIT SECOND.
SHE WILL TELL THEM TO DESTROY THEM, OBLITTERATE THEM & TO TAKE NO PRISONERS!
SHE WILL GATHER, LAUGH HEARTILLY & WALLOW IN THEIR CAPTURED RESOURCES, DEATH & DEFEAT.
CONCLUSION: Woman Leaders Can Be Warmongers & They will probably be MUCH WORSE than MALE Leaders.
AFTER ALL – Many, Many Men couldn’t give “Two Shites” about resources other than Beer, a few Tools, & Occasional Sex – whereas practically ALL woman feel they need RESOURCES.
I REST MY CASE, never let a Woman tell you Women ‘Aren’t or Can’t Be’ – WARMONGERS WARLORDS DICTATORS or AUTHORITARIANS.
Women are WARLORDS ON ICE – just waiting for a BIG THAW or a Dopey Man with a GIANT BLOOMIN’ PICKAXE TO WALK BY.
The FEMMINISTS all know this fact – I am 100% sure of it – but it is great Propaganda for them:
TO GAIN MORE RESOURCES CHEAPLY.
P.s. Yes, I Will Keep Digging Deeper Holes both literally and figuratively – Why would I give up now?….and besides, I also need the cash, and unfortunately in the Gardening game – those Gnarly Warlords hold the purse strings – and continue to ask for discounts.
,
by Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com @mrschmitzo
Joe The Neuro-Typical He/Got Caught Up In A Drag
Young Man He Lost His Life/In A Lounge -Room War, Yes
Wrote A Check…Got a wife /Got A Job’N’Mortgage…
Yes-Dear-No-Dear/Now Can I Have A Beer?
No Sir, Bad Deal/Now Where’s my Weekends?
Excuse Me Mr! / Why Would He Sign Up To That?
Pardon Me Maaam! /Why Would You Sign Up To That?
No Man Nooo! /There’s No Way I’d Sign Up To That
Joe Neuro-Typical/Got Himself Some Kids…
Now He’s Done &Done/ His Life Has Hit The Skids
His Wifes had Seven /& She Wants Seven More
Yes Dear No Dear/Can I Ring A Friend Dear?
No Sir, Bad Deal/Where’s My Motorbike?
Excuse Me Mr! / Why Would He Sign Up To That?
Pardon Me Maaam! /Why Would You Sign Up To That?
No Man Nooo! /There’s No Way I’d Sign Up To That
Yeah Joe The Neuro-Typical , His Kids – Have All Left Home
Now He’s Ninety-Five /All His Times-a-Gone-Burger
He Had Plans To Play Guitar/But he Can’t Move His FingerHands
Yes Dear, No Dear/ What-d’-ya-want a Foot Massage?
No Sir, Bad Deal/ Where’s My Little Row Boat?
Excuse Me Mr! / Why Would He Sign Up To That?
Pardon Me Maaam! /Why Would You Sign Up To That?
No Man Nooo! /There’s No Way I’d Sign Up To That
Joe Neuro-Typical/ He’s Strung Out On-His Death Bed
Now He’s Ninety-Nine/ & Yes, His Minds Full Of Regret
Why’d He Give His Life? – For All That Hard Selfless Work?
He Coulda Said No/ Yeah Rode himself Into-The-Wind
Yes Sir, Good Deal/ But I Ask Will-He-Be-Re-Born?
Excuse Me Mr! / Why Would He Sign Up To That?
Pardon Me Maaam! /Why Would You Sign Up To That?
No Man Nooo! /There’s No Way I’d Sign Up To That
China Fired Some Missiles @ Taiwan
My Question Is Not “Is That Fair”
But Is This One:
What Will The Excuse Be?
“We Have Upgraded Our Deliveroo Service?”
& We Are Experiencing Technical Probs?”
Did China Send Sweet & Sour Pork
To The Bottom Of The Taiwan Strait?
How Dare They!
‘Barry the Worm’ was sad & lonely.
He had burrowed three perfect clockwise circuits of the red delicious apple & had still not met a lady worm.
‘Sue the Worm’ was also lonely & had done the same thing anticlockwise on the lower hemisphere of the Apple.
Sometimes you need to zig-zag.
By Martin Anton Smith 2022
Written by Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com
Neoliberalism came about due to the Aristocracy being sick of having to behave as ‘decent people’.
They coined a completely new term to obfuscate the reality. They certainly couldn’t call the new movement that would put them back on top by a truthful term like ‘Greedism’, ‘Jerkism’, ‘Snobism’ or alike.
So ‘Neoliberalism’ it was. “It had an innate sound of freedom to it” had said the bastard who had come up with it.
The requirement of the aristocracy to temporarily curb their abject selfishness was due to the changing societal expectations that followed in the years after World War Two ended.
The worlds masses simply did not allow the Aristocracy to act as selfishly outrageously as before – after all World War Two was ultimately about a large handful of selfish people gaining all-encompassing power – so as to rule by the decree of one or a few men with crackpot elitist utopian ideas.
But as the end of the War receded towards the back of the mass’s minds, fertile ground for Machiavellianism began to again appear.
By now many decades had past & The Neoliberal Lords (& especially their Snooty Wives) had long grown tired of denying their true selves, to themselves & to the ‘great unwashed’.
The ‘great unwashed, the neo serfs, the neo-plebs as the Neoliberal Lords called them now essentially lived in ‘glorified shanty-towns’ safely far outside the boundaries of their opulently well-manicured gated communities.
By 1980 They had been ‘nice’ to the for 35 years, & the mean wives of the worlds Politicians, Lawyers, CEOs & investors were not having it anymore.
they desperately wanted to be mean again – and they didn’t want to have to feel guilty about it – as they had been forced to do since 1945.
The wives being the first to ‘Crack’ – were the first to mobilize. They called meetings of the other like-minded women of high society who were all victims in metaphorical exile.
It didn’t take many glasses of Sauvignon-Blanc & canapes for them to agree on their prime directive: To en-masse stopped their Husbands being ‘nice’, and thus allowing the virus of ‘decency to all’ to begin to decay and then disappear altogether.
The Husbands would of course agree to their more motivated wives’ instructions as they in their hearts wanted the same thing. It was all agreed that ‘The Egalitarian Society’ formed in the ashes of World War two would be disbanded – sooner than later.
For this to occur they needed a figurehead to trot out their clueless crackpot elitist unworkable policies based on the outrageous premise that selfishness was a good thing for everyone. So, after considering a few alternatives a goofball ex Hollywood B Actor President Reagan chosen & duly elected via a easily un-auditable rigged election.
Regan and his falsely smiling lackeys all around the world ensured the old ‘snobs world’ would be brought ‘back to life’ from its temporary tomb.
The dismantling of decency for selfishness was ridiculously quickly done via mass communications industry. The armies of the Visual & Written media happily amplified the message of Reagans lot – in TV Shows, newspapers, Magazines & the Radio Waves.
Many valueless, traitorous & immoral Musicians & Artists were boosted to spread the word that “greed is good & to bow to the false god of status & materialism” i.e. the domain of the Overlords re-emerging from the bowels of the earth.
And thus in just a handful of years after the Noveau Riche loving Ricky Reagan was Elected – an Entrenched Zombified Neoliberal Wasteland of a Society was well in bloom.
I let this happen.
You let this happen.
We all let this happen.
What a terrible shame.
So, it’s time for I, You & We to build a Time Machine.
We will go back in time & make sure Rick Reagan never gets elected. We will be bloodthirsty & ruthless as assassins in time.
Now that we have learnt so much about the universe – This time Travel project should be a relatively simple exercise – unless of course, the scientists & the general system of science has all been lying to us via an elaborate theatre.
If indeed this is true & science has lying to us, and we cannot use this plan – I suggest another strategy. A Mass Strike & Occupation of the Neoliberal Scum’s Businesses, Boardrooms, Eateries, Golf Clubs, & Mansions, by us – the “Dirty Animal Like Neoliberal Serfs”.
For We will gladly Label Ourselves in the same way they describe & dehumanise us at their ‘exclusive dinner parties’. We will intentionally ‘Not Wash’ & ‘Not Move On’ for Years On End. To Stink Like A Skunk Will Be Honored As The Sign Of being A True Member Of The Anti-Neoliberal Revolution.
With This Foolproof Backup Plan, we will Win The War vs The Treasonous Neoliberal High Priests. After the Revolution we will be revered by an enlightened & egalitarian future Post Neoliberal World Citizenry.
We will be seen as “Heroes Of The Stink War Revolution” – Giant Posters of our faces & images Us will be unfurled & adorned everywhere.
And The Cartoon-like “Stink Line” will be synonymous with Valor & Victory. Stories will be passed on by mouth & by electrical signal from one generation to the next, thus becoming Traditional. All will be struck spellbound by Tales Of the Revolutionaries that ‘Stunk Out the Aristocratic Serf Enslaving Devils’. Children will demand Tales of the Gruesomely Ugly Neoliberal Monsters running for the hills, afraid of the ‘Glorious Stinky Revolutionaries’ chasing them – coughing & clutching their haggard mean downward-trending smile wives, clutching handkerchiefs to their mouths to avoid the Attacking Stink Lines, all while a well-groomed angry yapping small dog follows along wagging its tail.
The Tales of “The Great Stink revolution” all ended the same way – with the most important part.
“The Neoliberal Scum hid in the caves, valleys and swamps – never to show their living dead faces & never to ransom the good folk of society – ever, ever again. Viva The Stink Line Heroes Of The Stink War Revolution! Those who set us all free!”
After the War was won a great period of Peace & Classless Prosperity ensured, generation after generation. The only rule & the only rule that could ever be was the “Golden rule’. The ex-High Priests of selfishness had been fully liquidated – literally – they had been turned into crude oil via the Smith-Zadowski-Penn method which was a more advanced version of the Fritz-Haber process. The selfish old bastards would be sold by the gallon all over the globe – they had finally given back to society – it was even labelled with a ‘vintage year’ denoting the five-year age range of the transformed ex neoliberalist. The 1935-40 birth year in particular had a higher octane and commanded a great price from the bowsers.
For many decades it seemed the perfect society had been formed – the first genuinely successful utopia to ever exist. It was such a lovely existence for all that there became less of a need to re-tell the tales of “The Great Stink War Revolution”. It was decided a once-a-year remembrance would suffice – called the “lest we forget day”.
One day, some ninety-three years later, someone’s wife said “let’s throw a party Steve but let’s not dare invite the Greenspan’s next door – they are a little Less-Stinky than us, don’t you think?”
And wouldn’t ya know it? – The whole damn thing happened all over again…
Written & Illustrated by Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com copyright 2022 Published by martin smith creations ltd (NZ).
by Martin Anton Smith 2022
The 2020- 2021 World has taught us this: All Advanced Business Products & Finance rest on the bedrock of
1. Food & Food Availability
2. Energy & Energy Availability
3. Political Stability
4. General Good Health Conditions For Workers
5. Robust Systems & Astute use of Technology
The 2022 – Present World Changed to a WAR ECONOMY
A War Economy requires:
1. Maximise all of the above for yourself & your business Allies & Minimise those same factors for the Enemy & Their Allies.
2. Reduce Your Businesses Output to Core ‘War Items Of Production’
3. Weaponize All Your Key Assets Human & Non-Human
4. Realise You Are AT WAR & In A WAR ECONOMY
5. Know That The Official War Is A Diversion Tactic, In Itself – & Expect The Real Clandestine War to Become Visible. At this point you will be asked to ‘Choose a Side’.
The Question: Do you know yourself well enough to make the right choice?
If You go to War & Proceed Blow a Guy’s head off with a machine gun thinking you are ‘doing the right thing’ – You have chosen the wrong choice!
If You Think Trump/President X Will save you – You are Wrong!
If You think staying masked & indoors will save you – You are Eff’d IN THE SWEED!
If You Think ‘The News’ will tell you what to do – You are deeply mistaken!
If You think you must avoid MOB RULE & FEAR TACTICS – You Are Right!
If You Think you must choose COURAGE, LOVE & DECENCY – You Are Righteous!
To Have Courage Or Build A ‘City Of Sheeple’ – That Is the Question!
But Can You Answer Correctly?
99% Of You If You Don’t Change Your Ways Will Fail this Exam.
Mr Geodee – The Great ‘Ultimate Cosmic Professor’, of course hopes that you all PASS, & he wishes you well.
I Would Like To Inform You May Begin The Exam on hearing The First Trumpet Sound.
I Regret To Inform You That This Was 6 Trumpet Sounds Ago.
I Would Like To Inform The Exam Will be Over As The 7th Trumpet Sounds
I Regret To Inform You that the 7th Trumpet Sounds in 15 Minutes time!
15
14
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10
9
8
7
6
5
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2
1
EXAM OVER!
Please Place your Pens Quills or Pencils down!
That Includes you Nancy!
You Too Joe!
You Too Hillary!
Joe!! Don’t put that pen up there!
Hillary!! Don’t Stab Donald!
Donald! Don’t Tell Hillary You’ll Put Her In Jail!
Nancy!! Don’t try To Sell Your Paper to Mr Xi!
Mr Xi!! Don’t screw your face up like Winnie The Poo?
Those Of you who have Not been incinerated & have thus PASSED the Exam, please form an orderly line & present your exam papers to the large old man with – The one with brilliant shining eyes – who sitting in the cloud at the front of the room holding a thunderbolt.
Those Of you who have failed the exam – yes all you piles of ash – please combine yourselves into a singular pile & present yourselves to the man of fire – the one with the pointy ears & tail – who is standing at the side window holding a pitchfork in one hand and an oversize ash tray in the other.
Oh Wait! Hillary & Joe – how come you are not piles of ASH?
Oh, you cheated, of course you cheated…WELL I don’t need to see your Papers – please go straight to the window.
Joe – I told you, take that Pen out of that hole!
Good day & please don’t say I didn’t warn you all about all of this.
I say again!
Avoid the principles of the Judeo-Christian tradition & you will pay the ultimate price!
Don’t become a materialist fool & thus fail the exam!
Don’t be blown out the window of forever doom!
Pass the EXAM & be walked to the door of FOREVER DECENCY!
THE EXAM – Set By the ultimate examiner – “Mr Geodee” who is ALWAYS JUST and ALWAYS FAIR.
BEHOLD!: The First & The Last Man who says:
“But Sir – I Don’t Believe in Mr Geodee, or THE EXAM”
Is the First to say “MAY I RE-SIT THE EXAM”
ALAS!!
THERE ARE NO RE-SITS!
Believe in MR Geodee!
Don’t Be Like Old Joe & his Disappearing Pen!
Or You Too, Will End Up Where the Sun Don’t Shine!
Anton Martin Smith Writer 