A little teaser from Tuesday Suicide;
(c) James WF Roberts
……Year of the Voice 1500—22-09—2013—04:15….
…….I remember the archives in Temple Prime, a very long time ago. I was always curious about the Great Conflict, the end of the last days. When the war began, none of us, none of them saw it coming. Extremist religious terrorists, eroded away what was left of the respect of religion, after financial corruption, paedophile priests, sex-hungry swamis, Rabbis living in denial of their own sex crimes against children. Humanity’s faith in politicians had waned. All over the planet one-term leaders, and governments not running to even a full term, had severely damaged what was left of politics, leadership and heroism.
Corporations became the rulers of society. Our new G-ds, everything on the screen before us. Technology had made us weak, had made us lazy and obese. Spirituality, and the connection between the natural world and humanity had all but disappeared. Wage slavery—the tyranny of comfort. We’re all too high, too fat, too lazy, too drunk—we made the machines to do what we couldn’t be bothered doing. And the machines became our way of life.
Freedom fighters—another man’s terrorist, we’re all living in a video game world. Terrorists desensitized sine puberty—violence is arousal. Sex is power. Arousal is violence. Women are slaves. Children are indifferent. The big bad scary world, we all had to hide from. We all had G-d on our screens 0101010101011010101—binary is the language of truth. The corporations took over, when there was nothing left. Civil wars broke out. Religions were banned across the globe. Freedom of speech eventually faded away into whatever was funny, hip, and cool—anything trending on social media was the gospel of the day. Everything crumbled into oblivion.
Sex and religion were outlawed in the early years of the age of the Voice. What had woken me up? What had made me think of blood and lust and violence? That’s right it was that long dark haired girl parading on the screen. The girl with guns and a dirt streaked face—what was her name? What was the word she called me? Prophet?
What does that word mean, I have never heard it used before in anything, in any of the sacred texts, or anything in the in the forbidden archives. My skin was hot, my body boiling. Muscles I have never felt before started pulsating and writhing. The muscle in between my legs was becoming alive. But that couldn’t be I hadn’t been given permission to use it, or to be allowed to think of using it. The iron guard will be here soon….they will punish me if I have transgressed.
The temptation alarm was still sounding, as the Iron Guards entered my compartment, I knelt down in respect for our sparkling defenders of the Voice of the Golden Tower. Within minutes I was secured. Placed in shackles, and an electric collar, kneeling, still I proclaimed the Rite of Faith, “before the Voice ¹ there was nothing. Humanity was lost, doomed by its own greed, lust, power and avarice. The Voice ¹ was pure, loving and warm. It saved the collective consciousness known as the Human Race from destroying itself. Religion, Politics, Art, Sex, Wealth and Family—all these institutions were a distraction. A corruption of the purest state of mind, one can have. One thought. One action. Right thought. Right action. All must love the Voice ¹.
Humanity was not fit to think for itself. Individualism is the first sin, the first crime against the Voice ¹. Independent thoughts, actions, beliefs—feelings were the cause of all the horrors man—humanity, inflicted upon itself. In the void of the intellect, that possessed human kind there was chaos. There was tumult and anxiety.