Tuesday, September 3, 2013

The Old Banshee Is Back

"Even I know that you don't chant "Bloody Mary" in front of a mirror in a darkened room. Mirrors are little demon gateways to Hell. So are most holes, doorways in rundown buildings, especially cellar doors, and abandoned refrigerators, and Jeep Cherokees with black windows.

Trypophobia is not an irrational fear. Not when you know what can come through a hole. Not when you know what can come through a hole can do.

God has been on the run for almost two decades now. Holes opened up all around the Citadel of Heaven, right beneath the very feet of the Host of Angels. What came out utterly destroyed the Citadel. God's palace made of beautiful blue moon marble was smashed to dust. TV news tried to keep it secret, but children in shelters everywhere were woken by dead relatives, telling them the horrible news.

God has fled Heaven. He may be hiding, or He may be gone, but He has yet to reappear. The Host is in disarray. The Demons found the doors to our worlds. They have the upper hand. They are as inexorably existent and as omnipresent as a dark ocean. Angels fight a holding action, guerilla tactics in the streets. 

If you are smart and brave, you will not succumb to jealousy, hate, and fear. The demons feed off these. If you are smart and brave, you may have seen Bloody Mary, La Llorona, and still be here. 

Boys cannot survive seeing Bloody Mary. If they awaken at night and see her - with her clothes blowing back, and no wind about - they are marked for death.

Even the Devil himself, Satan, is afraid of Bloody Mary. Satan fled Hell because of her, and now he works the terrestrial streets.

Satan hates Miami. He was humiliated there. He walked the streets, wearing that Tommy Hilfinger, smoking Newports, drinking wine and snorting coke, and though he was covered in gold and silver scales, the stupid rich clubhoppers did notice him for what he was. The rich people are oblivious, easily distracted oafs. Gold chains, diamonds and shiny objects hypnotize them. 

Satan found a large Hell door underneath the Colony Hotel. He offered the stupid rich owner ten Mercedes-Benzs to lease out the Hell door, but a group of angels captured Satan.

"Why do harass our friend who buys us drink and smokes and snorts?" asked the rich people. And the angels, who had chained and fettered Satan, said "Watch what happens when he touches water!"

And some stupid rich, but most went back to the party.

So, there you go. For those of you foolish enough to pray for the End Times, your wish is granted. For those who don't get it yet, the End Times look no different that regular times. And for those who don't want to admit it, there will be no Judgment Day".    

I wish I could take credit for this. I can't.

This is some of the rich mythology that is passed around from child to child among the homeless of America. It's not all that surprising that God is missing in action, in a world of gangbangers, screamers, child abusers, bad parents, worse strangers, and the oblivious rich, there's not a lot of call for asking for help from the Almighty.

There is the Blue Lady, but she is hobbled by a spell. And then there is Bloody Mary, who commands legions. And the horrible truth about Bloody Mary?

"God's final days before his disappearance were a waking dream. There were so many crises on Earth that He never slept. Angels reported rumors Of Bloody Mary's pact with Satan: She had killed her own child and made a secret vow to kill all human children. All night God listened as frantic prayers bombarded him. Images of earthly lives flowed across his palace wall like shadows while he heard gunfire, music, laughing, crying from all over the Earth. And then one night Bloody Mary roared over the walls of Heaven with an army from Hell. God didn't just flee from the demons, he went crazy with grief over who led them. Bloody Mary, some homeless children say the spirits have told them, was Jesus Christ's mother. "No one believes us, but it's true! It's true! It mean there's no one left in the sky watching us but demons!" 

Not a great world, but a fantastic folklore:

 Myths Over Miami.

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