Torches Costs Money

One day Chama was being lynched by a mob of about 300 in the low chanks, and several of her closest associates gathered to perform an intervention on her because of their concern:

"Chama, we know youse a goddess, but can't you put this aside?

"Other people have rights too.

"Yes Chama, I mean look around you; your best thinking got you here.

"Chama, don't you think it's time for a little self reflection?

"Yes, Chama. You can go over how you could make this a better place for you to be.

"You have that power Chama.

Chama say:

No my power is shapeshifting and speaking back across centuries to my younger self. I can hide my back, scalp and neck spurs with alien technology. I can fly in a F-suit or grow my wing. I can lift shiny coins through telekinesis and slight of hand from air pockets in the steady stream of important and influential flakes who cross my sound threshold.

Chama continue:

I cannot make this a better place for me to be right now.

Interventionists:

"This is what concerns us. You've lost the ability to master your own destiny, and on the frontier, that means mental illness.

Chama respond:

Dats booshia.

Chama continue:

Caw deeze mthyuhphkas off.

Interventionists:

"We calling you off, baybidumplins. You hereby denied the right to perpetrate on any of those damaged and frightened neighbors and chankspeople you see before you and shall apoligize for working them up into that level of a froth by your tone.

Interventionists continue:

"And torches costs money.

Chama say:

This is me. This is what you get with me. You brought me into the system. You were following the Law then. This is who I am. I come with crowds. This is what you get with me when you let them in. You found me banging on the door begging for bureaucracy. I thought it was a meritocracy, but chall was I dim. Turns out I am a delivery boy: I brought the Him.

Chamatilly continue:

BTW, can I get a square? Can I get paid?

Interventionists:

[No answer. No answer.]

Reliquary of K's

Every time his head surfaced, he'd scream at the cameras, "How do I kill it?! How do I kill it!" and it would again twist him under the muddy foam. They were rolling, and the beast's plastic branks had come off in the scuffle. Kevin would have been crying if he had not needed to maintain, to save his life, a fierce persona. The electronic eyes became absurd to him then. He had to squeeze these prehistoric lips together in a lovelock and keep it shut until emergency services could hooptie on over. Publicity may have been his job, but he felt he had already stretched his adventure comfort aperture nearly to snapping.

Meanwhile a family of K's coasted about 250 rods above the desert floor. While they appeared to be a team, each one was searching, lost in its own way. Parents and chillun. Their bodies knew to fly to the left of another's wind, but that was all. Then they heard Kevin Reynolds's horrific squalling.

They turned as one and on a diagonal, calm as death, swooping low enough to take him. There was no question which. As deity, a mother must step forth to challenge the moral capacity of any contrary life form.

The sweat from the back of Kevin's neck began to pool under Peg's tongue.

Clipped in her beak, flanked by her significant others, Kevin wondered if they, now, might eat him, removed from record on a windy chank cliff, solemnly, as if picking through a reliquary.

Smokers Don't Need Fireworks

Tomorrow we're having meat laid on red-hot steel bars over the cinders of aromatic junk wood and brush. We soak it in vine and sear it this way until it is white with pain. Upon removal from its host, we nearly always receive thanks. With those nerves and tendons gone, it can go about its business faith healing and puking on bartops.

Guyz Like to Pray Rocking

Guys like to pray rocking
because it pumps their prostate,
and it gets them off
even if they're not hard.

Before you eat chips, or
in a stadium seat at
a summer pogrom,
let us be 1 body.

Part of your hotness is
the way they have you dangling
over a pit of
fiery death reminder.

Peg Thinks Hard, and Spits

This desmadre has been censored by the Mthyuh Preservation Society due to a redundancy of phrases such as open farts, devil's whoreshop, and holy skank hoar.

intraceptive missionaryism

NO SHOW OF BLOOD CITING.
We noticed as we swung by to check for blood on your door
that there was none. and now, in the light of our torches,
you seem quite agitated, maybe insane. we are afraid for y-
our soul. we are afraid of what our God might do to you if
we decide it is appropriate. He may cause us to harm you
badly, and your family, and your future generations. we are
here to perform an intravention to protect you from any
further danger. Do you have a knife, or have you lost it?
Where are your lambs-- or have you failed to fulfill even
that most basic of norms? You are harming everyone by your
non-conformism. You are attacking our way of life, and we
are tired of being victimized by your mocking, obscene exi-
-stence which is only meant to cleverly highlight the futi-
lity of our Reproductive Circle.
...
UNAPPROVED DISCONNECTION FROM COUNTY FILTER, GRID, OR DISPENSER.
FAILURE TO COLLECT PROSCRIPTIONS.
We noticed as we scanned your home that you have taken the
dangerous step of disconnecting from your county's Filter
of Loathing. This will mean that the intended effects of
the drugs we have proscribed for you which were meant to
counteract the sickening effects of the pulses will spiral
out of control with nothing for them to heal. In addition,
the local Pharmsupply has informed us that you have not e-
ven picked up your proscriptions for several months. We h-
ope that you have not engaged in this type of antisocial
behavior as the result of financial difficulty. We care a-
bout the wellbeing of all members of our community, so we
are generous to remind you that discontinuance of a manda-
ted service or medication does not constitute release from
responsiblity for payment.
...
[Text of two ancient tickets found in Peg's glovebox, clipped to the back of an expired W.A.S.T.E.]

Maundy Friday

Won't even roll over when I shuffle into the room, but they on they knees bathing my feet when I stoop to weep. Go away, M'Lady; go away, Missy La-La. Gonna put you bitches to work one day. When I feel depress, you shake your tails like a single kaleidoscopic Goddess of Asses. I want to turn your force on my enemies. Stanky bitchcunt of infinity. Love weapon. Merciless forgiver. Virgin of recycling. Inundation. Burning saliva. Breath that cuts and scars in rosettes. Christ command me! How much time have I spent in bed? It's a Maundy Friday.

La Chi-Chi

Chang K. Chang Chank Jr. High is a feeder school to Chang K. Chang Chank Junior College. Only way to superseed the "junior" business is to log your first kill. Until then, you are a rookie, pup, know-nothing. The enemies you seek out, identify, target, love, and eliminate must come from among your own ranks. And it's your eager junior classmates that will drop you in a sec if they smell gay sweat. High-participation kills usually stem from gaywads that disrespect the Student Council by not showing up to bloodsac, showing up to bloodsac, removing their branks in a common area, or smoking. Ask a pissy question? You are on open-kill special all week. Hungry grads can make it far: border patrol agent, correctional officer, homeland deathsquad, cop, la pasma, lawn chair and awning resource specialist, homeland airborne deathsquad, la chi-chi, heating and air conditioning repair, or Pharmsupply bitch. Some even make it to Chang K. Chang Chank Senior High, the only institution of senior learning in the chanklands, a military academy with state-of-the-art golf course maintenance laboratory, sports bar training centre and auto shop. Failing that, stake out the Hall of Pissy Whining Complainers right after the homeland airborne deathsquad hotdogs have accidentally dropped another loveturd on some poor flake's hive or chall. These citizens can be easily picked off being so predictably on their knees forced to beg for the lives of their trapped families who must be sworn to silence even with their limbs on fire. With their patriarch wiped out, dead maimed or still-struggling wives and chilluns make warm, rich and powerful comfort vittles for K's.

Hot Drifter

You are 53, so you are cunning and cynical in a last-ditch
effort to hump your days and walk on top. Soon your risk
taking will give in to begging wonder for life outside d'bed.
You have bright eyes and a mustache you call the Womb
Broom. In one small town where you stopped they said m
-aybe you were a con man but anyone could guess it was
juss a chick or boy you moved and disrespected. Don't piss
off unions or steaming membranes with an itch for your c
-ock. Hot drifter, many may mock; none can hold your p-
ower over major regions of the wanting brain, oh, and nex
time you wan to stop by, jus come on in; don't even nock.

Serving Christians, yor trajectry brings you wide and on s
-ome dire affairs. The churches take you in an cut you job
-s at carnivals, car washes, and for burials, loan you a suit.
You safe in this town as a fart that smells like food. Erybo-
dy thinking ways of how you, as a man, are theirs. Imagin
-e wuhda local wife wunt want to stow you in her sk-
irt. You've never been a brother on the grid. Some men th
-ink that they can find themselves in you, but they are da
shed on rocks and ashes worse than wymen. Ashamed of
loving you, hot drifter, we offer up r babl verse an wicca.
I for one dont play that praying game. You are my sistuh.

Thud

Worshipers use the leather bells for when so the K's can't hear them. The catch is they have to stay close if they want promotions and propaganda, or risk missing they meal. Once a K swooped and shat like a door stone right in they soup and bit the head off a chal. The news could onee be bra cass in dull thud, so it travel slow.

Change in the Practice of the Shiv

Before being issued a work permit, worshipers will

1. take the Shiv Path test.
2. answers are filtered into categories
3. categories into diagnoses
4. diagnoses into prescriptions
5. prescriptions into your body
6. your body unto Mthyuh
7. Mthyuh gives you life.
8. Muhalalahalalala Mthyuh
   

High Perch

In the high caves wind makes the skins flap hard.
You see what's speeding howling across our com-
munity: purple cranes fight a wind make it seem
da ho planet be turning. Da ho chank be rocking.

The clouds drag their curtains of illusion behind.
Up here it's too late to warn a co-worshipper ifd
-ey bout to get attack. So we watch instead the
way they glide, dive, scalp some po flake heyud.

K's fly feeling more dimensions than we can hav
-e without getting sick, six directions to choose,
aiming they K shape way they going. They mot-
or, move by solar, keep goin even wen dey ded.

high perch

she needed to be back where they'd known her all her life
or had helped to pluck her from a teenage primordial soup
and exemplified worshipstyle among the cement turbines.

she squats hideosly now on the chipped cement cave lip of
the highest chank in the Valley, Chukka. Her skin has resp
sponded to the breezes by going blue, and her spines r out.

i came here to Chukka Chank not as a spa trip, which woul
-d be assinine. These are smokin caves with lots of furs an
-d meats, jewel, hypnotic light, stewed game, shiv, curfew.

The Craw

Chamatilly warm up the room:

Nau, yall come to me and you know which ones, who you are, every day i see ya cumup t'me nau, yu cumonup t'me nau and yu sez:

Chama, Chama I tellya i wanna, wanna
an i say y'don't hafta hafta, cuz the way
the rose grows chillun, what's the word
I'm after? Mozis. MOzis. Mozis. When t
-he rain hit da barn anda elemental hitd
-a ethereal farm that the misunderconc-
luzhuns begin to happen, happen. The c-
ment duss be mixing witda offrins an in-
sence and pity pie? is wenda sky start t'
open, open. Can it fly, they wanid t'no. C
-an it take to d'winan leave dem chiluns
behine, and of course you and I can say
cuz we livd to see the day when her life b
-ecame a way, chile... for every woman n
-au, every lady grrl lovin b'be womachal.
We know the sun went down and it stay
-ed that way for a wal. Mo longa than a h
-dred day, boyz. Ahm swe'in bullets whe
-en I try to tell you bout the tam when t-
he heavens met the seas but because no
one believed, baby oh yes: it didn't happ-
en. So when I tell you that by Peggy, she
, that monogram of womanhood in a form
-fitting and pressed uniform, except a re-
al doctor? It was inspiring to everyone. M
ost of all, Rick: who has given his life a nu
mber of times up to her, and finally, all up
in her. They say there is an "eschew"; so-
me call it "The Craw," where one day you
will come out. No, not born again, but real
-ly uglier. It will be another chance at life
for you, but with much more pain from sc
-ars that look as if you had thrown yours-
elf into a live volcano. Oh, wait-- I forgot.
You did throw yourself into a live volcano.

The entire congregation was standing and
applauding, even as they stooped to wipe
their tears on a co-worshipper's shoulder.

It was something came out during Volca years before, and they let her keep telling it now, as if she had earned tenure or had passed a rite of gases and would no longer have to suffer by torture but rather, now, and she preferred it, the torture borne of being a major source of pain for others, and beyond the pleasure of that, the building and maturing ability to self flaggelate and blood manage with no supervision. Because Illyn had taken it upon hiself to self-feed the Mthyuh, he had now lost any sort of nose terror over the Chama. She had always known and had been planning, at some level, his return and her rightful slow retribution: the collection of his debt to her being Top Bitch: he forced her to be moral by feeding drugs intraveneously that gave her a conscience, then convinced her to be true to her lying and theiving background. It made her stronger, but it had not created loving between them.

Naughty Somalians

When the hooded one arrives on his apple cart, steps down with a naked scythe?
When sudden death occurs there is a strong initial shock, and then healing begins. A major illness will extend the period of strong exposure and be more likely to create permanent collateral damage. Beyond length of exposure, intensity can fluctuate and climb, stressing out a worshiper's innermost marrow.

Are there any interactions or serious side effects?
Illnesses that provoke secondary expressions of violence, scatology or other dementia deepen the horror, widen the suck of the spinning drain of death. When multiple careers of morbidity overlap, especially in a close social network, death can stomp up and down, a sticking period key, a repeating decimal of dead.

Why do they keep them so long, and wouldn't it be more merciful to kill them immediately?
Well, the fact is that if push came to shove and we'd have to admit it, we kinda like having them around for as long as we can. It's like sitting on yr balls. We grow accustomed to their valiant little defiances; their quirky pronouncements and curses; their cute, spirited jabs from the sidelines. We know how under-it-all dependent they really are on our goodwill, and that makes us fuzzy.

What is your view on the abolition of Blood Sac?
It seems to keep people calm, especially the young mothers for some reason. Nobody needs to say a word, as long as we know it's happening and we can go to see for ourselves whenever we want. In fact, I hear they've been poorly attended of late. Sure, the opposition pretty much gave up after they couldn't get a retraction on the Sac they did on that what was her oh Chang K. Chang. That was because she was such a beloved living maiden that for her to "only milk Mthyuh in hell always" indicated selfishness on the part of the Preservation Society and maybe even envy slippin out some of the high preistesses while we know that's just potty. It's a controversy of the past, certainly. Today's worshiper is just bored with it. It may eventually be won by the inane above humane, as they say. It's all about cultural stewardship for me, and that's what I've shown you crossing over. I say get in my boat and I'll take you there and now here we are. Now there's someone can bring you on to the next big bend.

Tom
CEO, Pharmsupply
A Year to Another Year

Meadows and Shores

The city is entry slurry, coming in through airborne pockets or crossing land like a miserable red ant.
These peoples are processed here and sent in tubes to the bucolic-sounding lands, if ever.
They are sort of filtered through stoney brookside meadows and rolling pinewood greens.
Through glen or forestlake river valley, there are additional meadows and shores.

Finally, experience death or assimilation into desert religious sects.
We beg the greening of a septic vision, and we find daisies crawling screaming from each straw end.

--anonymous bullcrap

Man Claims Hindu God Appeared In Plant Form

Man Claims Hindu God Appeared in Plant Form

Morning Edition, October 23, 2008 · A New York City man is convinced the elephant-headed Hindu god Ganesh appeared to him in his backyard as a purple flower.

The 4-foot-tall plant sprouted up between concrete slabs in Sam Lal's yard in Queens. He says the plant began to resemble an elephant's head and trunk. Lal, a Hindu, told the New York Daily News that the plant has healed his back pain.

"They say God comes in many forms. I figure this has taken the form of a plant to come into my yard and bless me," he said.

Guide me Ho-ma

guide me home woman
guide me to prayer-o

wenna wirl-o manso stron
ma-needa woma company.

walk me thru this bigole
neighborhood, fo-I go grrl.

gai me hom-a nau woma
stop an pray-yay witme.

then we can catch a show
or lounge about ata bar-o.

guide me home woman
gai me to pray-yayer-o.

All about the Chilluns

The Sacrament of Blood was a loving rite, and everyone agreed about that cep f'the po muthya fo who they end up serving your kids for deena. It draws us together at this lean time of year and reassures us about our values: s'really all about the chilluns, idnit? We a famly, and this is a way i can give back to them every year. They hongry. We share in the joy and the bounty with all of our favorite neighbors and family members. Our co-worshippers. You allow us to see ourselves in God's own perpective: those who are not you. So, Hoolie: we congratulate you for this honor we are about to feed you on behalf of da Mthyah. She is soothed in your pain. We will sing along to it so you know that we are with you. That our love is with you, Hoolima. Ho-Hoolima, hoo-loo-loo-li-li-ma-ma.

1 hour. hoolie screaming
1 moment. steel blades sliding
baby crying
crowds erupting, cutlry
place settings slammed down
like an uptown diner, echo;
some famly members
understandibly disconsolate
in the counseling chamber.

Sinewy [the Mp3]

sinewy

sinewy bitch prad chal!