Chapter 8: Prophecy of Frank Li Two

My God my God! I miss my friends. Where have they gone?

“They hide in their delusions like disobedient children hiding in their room doing things they see adults doing, Frank Li,” the Inspiring One said, “Learning things their emotions cannot deal with having no one that cares enough to stop them, no cares for them.”

Then the Inspiring One was silent.

“Why do you turn your children over to perverts and lovers of themselves whom they actually hate teaching your own children that madness?” I said, “Is there nothing decent left in your hearts. Will they not rise up and murder you one day for what you have done?”

Like Saul the Inspiring One stands nearby holding my garments and approving what I am doing. Will you condemn him for what I do? Am I my brother's keeper. He is not responsible for what I do in my own name, surely. Why then do you believe me and revile me? Am I not more like you than him? You Jesus killers! All of you annoy me beyond human limitation.

When I was a younger man I set out to find a wife among you. I found a child, a b***h the daughter of a b***h. Who wanted her? I did. Do you think I have no familiarity with your shameful delusions? I shared them.

When I was old I settled for a young girl. I worried she was a w***e and she was. A w***e in love with a child on the Internet, a child, a mere teen half her age that stole her innocence and joined her in homosexual pursuits with the worst of the lowlife's on the Web who even took the very names of demons and other baser things and characters. And they were proud of themselves. And I was insane with outrage when even the police approved and punished me for the audacity of being decent in an obscene society. Yes, I know you. But some of you will be easier forgotten than others especially the police and the lawmakers who sanction your immorality. You well deserve your everlasting torment. You called me nothing. But you were nothing to begin with. You never were anything to be remembered much less mourned. I do not love you. You are like the father in “Slingblade” that ruined the book for me, made the movie even more repulsive, and yet you loved it. He is your American Messiah. Worship him. He is far better than you are. He is holy compared to you. And he was only fiction all along. I shall remember him longer than I will remember you, all of you. He was more real.

You who imitate animals, some for money and use all of your gray matter in your efforts to find other animals to behave just like them even after you are old when will you desert your immorality? When will you use your brain for just one higher thought than the naked body even of one of your sex? Are you not all together a shameful thing. Will I remember you longer than my dog, Tuner, that had but one lover a mangy cur that ran down the alley never even acknowledging her existence. I will remember you just about as long as he did, the Lord even a shorter time. Who will you have sex with when you have no body left? Who cares? You don't. Good-bye. I hope never to think of you again. You never were anything but a reproachful thing. You were nothing even before that. And yet even the nothing you were will be taken from you. And you will not care for anything ever again.

You who dream up new theories and delight in being called geniuses when you manipulate the math to suit your conclusions. Why did you waste your genius and turn your gray matter to offal? What difference did your grand notions do you when you are unable to abandon them for the simplest truth. You were idiots not geniuses. You used your minds on fairy tales on fantasies to make new the delusions of lesser minds causing many to perish. Like Judas Iscariot I wish for you nothing for I don't think you have brain enough to do it on your own! 

I wish you all were never born. What good were you? You did nothing. You learned nothing. And now even that nothing will be like rags the Hebrews wiped with long before toilet paper was invented. You are only good for the sewer at best. Though you were proud of your sanity never to have even one sane thought in your entire life. Who will not forget you? Even your rivals will. You who stare at the end and believe it was the beginning.

You who theorize nothing and refuse to equate it with the zero you assumed in the first part of your calculations. Were you not a waste of your body? Was your brain any more beautiful than a modern art painting by a chimpanzee artist? Forget yourselves if you can forget anything. Who among you can fathom the Light that has always existed? Who among you could have calculated your dismal ending or the true depths of your torment? Are you not utterly worthless even to yourselves?

My God my God! I have no heroes. I know no sport that was profitable except for others who share their delusion they had accomplished anything. They keep records for nothing. When their bodies are used up no one remembers them anymore in their pain, but some obscure sportscaster who has spent his life remembering useless statistics of people who wasted their bodies doing nothing productive for anyone least of all themselves or you.

Even those who proudly proclaim, “I am a Christian!” or, “I am a Muslim!” who cares that was all delusions by the time you were conceived. You have nothing and claim God gave it to you. One part of nothing is yet nothing. You would have been greater than you are now had you wore a big fat lie on your jersey, the number zero as if it was a number in the first place. You are less than zero. At least it had a use as a place holder. Who will remember you when your delusion of self worth pales before a baby's first step.

You are as useful as an auto racer who drove around and around in circles at someone's great expense. What a waste of gray matter? What a waste of your body? What a waste of play money the rich use to buy things that have no value what so ever and have to dream up crooked schemes even to interest the delusional in what they are doing with all of that they were given. It is all less than nothing. And that it was, will be snatched away faster than a world champion race car can cross a four inch finish line. Why did you waste your entire lives on something of no consequence at all? It is not wise to call anyone a fool? But would it be an incorrect assessment of your characters.

You are no more than a blonde bombshell walking the streets naked while the paparazzi take photos of her even her fans yawn to see. Is it not all a waste of the attention span of their fans. Like you they do nothing over and over expecting different results each time, a thing even that idiot Einstein said was the very definition of insanity. You all believed he was a genius why didn't you receive any instruction from him then?

At least Hollywood knows it is a fool's paradise. They make filthy movies to show filthy minded morons who forget them faster than they can make them. Where is there any sanity in that. And music? How insane is that?

I once was impressed with music until I wrote a song my friends raved about in fifteen minutes. They obviously should spend even less time on theirs. They stir the animals to have even more sex than they would have had without them. There has never been but one song that I ever thought made any sense, but John Lennon had no idea he was accidentally right on the beam for the first time in his life. And the insane murdered him for doing it, didn't they? Gotta love those sane fans he created!

But why did you set out to drive them mad, John? Did you think all madmen are as safe as a terrorist in his own camp who dreams of blowing himself up? I prayed God would bless you. And he did. You finally no longer suffered from your misplaced fame nor led anymore of your children astray to live like animals.

John once I loved you. Now I hang my head in shame that I ever prayed for you in the Night when I too didn't know what I was doing? Sorry about that John. I hastened your way to torment. I once loved your song, for there really is no ground below us and nothing even as real as the sky above us up there in all that irrelevant universe we will never even see let alone reach that we imagine is still there in some form we know has nothing to do with anything our minds can correctly interpret anyway. There is no one there either, John. And already people don't have any idea who I was just talking of. Sorry John, I will forget you too and gladly soon.