31 March 2008

Cats, and bats, and things like that

Ever get the feeling that before humans started running the place, angels used to and, like immortal elves, one of them screwed up, (we’ll call him Morgoth,) then God made a law stating the next level in the Great Chain of Being is now at bat and furthermore, all the angels will be invisible, and that we’re all sort of like the angel’s pets now, their cats and dogs, (cats-you know-consider their human caretakers to be other cats as the cat brain is unable to think otherwise), and that perhaps not everybody you see is really human. . .right?

If so, then this explains baldness in men. Since males are more doggy and females more catty, most angels tend to pat guys on the head, like people do dogs, because when you think about it. Your first instinct when seeing a small furry mammal is to pat it on the head, whether it be a dog, fox, squirrel, rabbit, baby goat, and in some cases-wolverine.

Another of Life’s mysteries explained.

28 March 2008

A Tale of the Springtide

About the hour for the kindling of candles, the beasts returned. Their lowings and brayings could be heard, and indeed almost felt, as they danced upon their homeland shore. Now after a time, it came to me that such an incessant lowing was abhorrent to mine ears. I girded up my loins and spake to the creatures words of deepest wisdom to comfort their feeble minds. But alas! They did not hearken unto reason for their minds were dark and wisdom rested not upon their brows. My anger became aroused and a great fire leapt into my breast as I considered their fell deeds, and dark thoughts crept into my soul.

Then I, Jason of the East, sought war.

I descended to my dwellings below and contrived, by magic as if it were, the operation of many machines so that straightaway the airs filled themselves with much clamor and the silence of the deep was broken. The beasts heard the noises of my labours and repented of their ardors and ceased their wailings.

And lo, I was avenged.

(But the next time those yahoo neighbors of mine start partying like it's 1985, well. . .I'm calling the landlord. . .sheesh!)

26 March 2008


24 March 2008, 7:45 PM.

The vast majority of the planet has little knowledge of how incredibly different the next millennium on Earth will be. As things currently stand, most people are sincerely screwed up. The East-coasters are in a bad condition; the West-coasters even worse. The middle part of the country is better than the rest, especially the Houston, Dallas, San Antonio, Tulsa regions. (Mainly due to the larger percentage of Christians here.) The next decade, I predict, will be violent and catastrophic. I hope I am wrong, but I know people by nature usually require something catastrophic to jerk them to their senses.

I have seen in my mind’s eye a windstorm, perhaps in the middle of the United States, that has the highest recorded winds and that most everything was leveled.

I have also seen things hidden under the Antarctic ice caps that will be discovered and these things will astound humanity, though not in the same way some human’s abilities will astound the planet. These things were buried thousands of years ago and to see them thawed will be something like surrealistic. I see people staring at them for hours saying little, and when they do speak-say, “so, that’s what they looked like.”

I have seen where God is literally preserving the southern polar ice cap for this last millennium. For I deem there are things buried there that will save many lives due to their isolation from the rest of the planet for such a long period of time.

Another thing I saw was a day in which the sky was grey, as if an intensely thick cloud covered the entire earth. The sun could be viewed with the naked eye and it was during the summer season in the northern hemisphere. It was eerie. Lurid. Later, something about the stars did not seem quite right.

It is now 8:10 PM on 24 March 2008 A.D. (when these words were written by me, Jason Michael Parrish)

Time is most certainly short-have you noticed?

25 March 2008

Harried Horton

They’re not angry, it just seems that way.

It comes from the mixed Irish and Italian ancestry 99.9 % of them share.

When West Virginians speak, at first one thinks they’re angry. Then, the animated pseudo-angriness wears off and evolves into a long drawl, gets slower and slower, until it finally ends in a series of grunts, uh-huhs, and indescribable noises most associate with Cro-Magnon at Thanksgiving.

For example: picture two mountain men talking by a pick-up truck.

Mm1: (in a loud voice) “YEP. Me and the little woman are gonna go to town and see that new SEUSS movie. Ya know. One about that HORTON fellow. HOOTIN’ HORTON hears WHOs. I mean, Harried Horton hears hooters hootin’. (voice gets lower) Err, Hort and Harry hears a hootin’. . .or hears a hooter. . .no. . .that’s uh. . .ah. . .heck. Ya know. . .one bout’ them hootin’ who’s and Horton hearing. . .uh. . .hearing . . hootin’ hooters. . .or something ahootin’ and ahollerin’. . . .down town. . . .and. . .and. . .yeah. . .gonna watch Horton. . . .uh-huh. . . . . . . .yeah. . . . . . . s’whut we’re gonna do. . . .see H. . . . . . ummm. . .

16 March 2008

I dreamt I was in space

. . .or possibly standing on the boundary of the cosmos.

I saw the fabric of the universe being stretched. The fabric was black and looked something like a spider web, but there were no empty spaces between the threads. The entire fabric was in a state of constant flux with something channels or tunnels forming and rapidly dissolving. It seemed mathematical to me, sort of like being on the edge of an enormous electron cloud. What I believe I was seeing was how reality, a higher dimensional reality, looks like. Perhaps this was a fifth-dimensional reality.

The soul and spirit of a man cannot be composed of empirically-detectable matter using our current technology, but they exist and cannot be un-made. Whatever they are composed of will last eternally. That’s not to say it will remain in its current state of organization and order.

Is it pure energy?

The new body can pass through walls and be illuminated, so perhaps it is some form of energy, or a particle with the intrinsic property of moving faster than the speed of light. It may be light itself, only at a different wavelength.

So, what happens when a Christian dies?

His body is shed like a cicada’s carapace and he becomes completely human, or more human, which is not as most would expect-biological. It must be a different sort of life and existence. One can think of our earthly life as being something like an embryo and everything we do now is mere preparation or practice for the post embryonic life.

And if one is not a Christian?

They still will exist, although I doubt if it will be in a. . .more human-like condition. Separation from God means they will finally experience an existence of their very own. Ashes come to mind. When a log is tossed to the flames, the wood is burnt, but there are the ashes. The ashes are like the remains of the aborted could-have-been-truly-human. The ashes cannot be destroyed. A very imperfect analogy to be sure, but I think you get the idea.

13 March 2008

It could only happen in a trailer

According to CNN.com, this apparently happened in America.

I'm not sure if this is the most depressing news I've heard all day, or the most oppressing news I've heard all day.

It's certainly the most impressive news I've heard all day.

12 March 2008

Animal Farm

Do angels pat us on the head like puppies when we sleep? I kind of think they do things like this more than we realize. After all, they're invisible and more powerful than us. Why not? It would be neat to pet a lion without it not knowing.

Now, something like philosophy.

-Dogs are boys, cats are girls.
-Snakes are cursed, but not evil.
-Apes and monkeys are caricatures of humanity. Like clowns, but funny.
-Owls are smart, eagles are loners, and badgers are gruff old men who smoke pipes, read the paper, and wear slippers while they sit by the fireplace in their big leather chairs.
-Golden Retrievers, if they could talk,would chatter constantly, though not as much as squirrels. Squirrels tend to study journalism and want to work for CNN where they can live happily ever after.
-Pigs are usually frat boys who wear sports jerseys, hang out in bars, and consume mass quantities of potato chips, hot wings, and beer. Most of them are male, but few are female. They burp alot.
-Tortoises are shy and read novels. They can be funny, but have a dry sense of humor. They make good CPAs and have names like Aldo, Clarence, Leopold, or Terrance.
-Bears drive trucks and live in Oregon.
-Ants have no personality.
-I've only seen one armadillo in my life,(at NASA in Cape Canaveral), and it seemed like it was going to a business meeting. I don't think this was typical though.
-Cows are sleepy creatures who drive pick-up trucks and work mundane jobs. Dairy cows are old woman with glasses and aprons. They make homemade cookies, but never let you eat them until they cool down. Sometimes they'll let you lick the batter of the spoons.
-Whatever it is rabbits do, they think it is the most important thing in the world.
-Fish were made to be eaten, unless they're pastel-colored.
-Horses are moody and inquisitive. They also enjoy Powerbars. I know. I fed a horse a Powerbar and it wouldn't leave me alone the rest of the afternoon.
-Sea Lions are from New Jersey as they constantly bark and annoy anything and everything within earshot.
-Beagles are noble beasts, as are some camels. All beagles are British, and some camels too, but most camels are Egyptian.

11 March 2008

A Day in the Life of Johan Mikael Parishnikov

Wake up at 5:11 AM and drive to Texaco.
Purchase 1 Rockstar Energy drink, 1 egg/sausage/cheese biscuit, and $30 of highly processed plant remains to put into an aluminum tank built by a Japanese company.
Drive to a laboratory, type in security code, turn on a bunch of machines, and proceed to work exactly 47 minutes because the other two fellows did most of the work yesterday and didn’t call me. . .which did not bother me in the least since I don’t work on Sundays. . .unless you count running a TV camera work.
Drink energy drink after mixing it with bottled water and chit-chat with two sleep-eyed co-workers just arriving.
Leave the lab, drive through a tunnel under the Chesapeake Bay, see pelicans swooping on the mouth of the James River and think how much they resemble pterodactyls.
Notice a large hawk scoping out traffic whilst sitting on a cell phone tower.
Check e-mail, read some blogs, CNN, letsrun.com, MSNBC, and search for Volvos on Craigslist.
Take shower.
Make a cup of Earl Grey tea, mashed potatoes and gravy, and eat a handful of tortilla chips.
Transfer a purple fish to a Mason jar and start dishwasher.
Call two people, leave messages, and re-check e-mail.
Spend next few hours looking at tiny water-creatures under a microscope.
Take a nap and dream about apocalyptic events in the future which seems to be a trend in my life.
Make coffee, 2 tuna sandwiches on rye bread, read snail and e-mail, eat the remains of lettuce with 3 types of balsamic vinegar dressing (microwaved)
Look at more water-creatures.
Read about Israelites eating manna in Deuteronomy and wonder what manna bread tastes like and whether or not manna burgers were the new beef circa 1,500 B.C. . .also wonder if quail tastes like Cornish game hens.
Run 4 miles.
Spend 2 whole minutes observing a squirrel scamper around the parking lot and eat a nut under my car.
Lift weights.
Re-re-check e-mail.
Write 3 pages.
Grow just a little older.

01 March 2008

Men in masks

(Eds. Note) Though the following post was written after 6 long weeks in a pretty cool mental institution, the author assures the reader it is an accurate depiction of reality and not simply the mad ravings of a quote ‘clinically-depressed paranoid schizophrenic with delusions of grandeur’ unquote. Besides, how can one be paranoid if THEY really are following you???

It’s a vast medical conspiracy.

Surgeons really don’t know what they’re doing when they operate. That’s why they wear masks and gloves. The masks hide their identity and the gloves leave no fingerprints. They put you to sleep to discuss how to get money from you.

All those tools one sees laying sterilized on those trays? Well, it’s not easy to explain because that requires lots of higher math and statistics, but it’s no coincidence most of those ‘tools’ are knives. According to Cosmopolitan, studies with rabbits have shown that when knives are flashed at baby rabbits, there is a tendency to freeze up and be paralyzed.

Knives and daggers.


After you’re sedated, the chanting begins.

‘Scalpel. . .suture. . .sponge. . .slice’
‘Scalpel. . .suture. . .sponge. . .slice’
‘Scalpel. . .suture. . .sponge. . .slice’

Slowly, at first. Then, as the blood starts flowing, Dr. Sabu and co. chant faster. . .and faster.

‘Scalpel. . .suture. . .sponge. . .slice’
‘Scalpel. . .suture. . .sponge. . .slice’
‘Scalpel. . .suture. . .sponge. . .slice’

Then. . .they rest.

Time for the medicine men to recoup. But their twisted minds cannot. The mantra re-starts.

‘Scalpel. . .suture. . .sponge. . .slice’
‘Scalpel. . .suture. . .sponge. . .slice’
‘Scalpel. . .suture. . .sponge. . .slice’

Sometimes the hooded bandits forget the mantra and ponder dinner.

Scallops, salad, Spanish rice?
Chinese take-out with fried rice?

If one wakes during surgery, as 1-2% of all people do, they shine a bright light in your eyes and turn on NPR to trick you into believing you’ve arrived in heaven.

So, Mr. Puddleglum, are all surgeons as you suggest?

Truly, no. Like car mechanics and lawyers, they're are some good ones out there. You just have to search for them.

And remember to keep both eyes wide-open before choosing, and both half-shut after.

Sort-of like, you know, marriage.