Monday, February 01, 2010

The Choice

Behold the panties of Angelina Jolie and alongside lies the copy of Pilgrims Progress. Pardon me if either have defiled the sanctity in your mental Cathedrals. Let us examine our obsessions in silence.

As I lay me down to sleep, I see images of reptiles clothed in sheer sheep skin. Pure white, as blanched sepulchers while their antagonists trod in complete nakedness with ashes and sackcloth as their vesture.

I sat in my little van, in a crosstalk of signals from the Panties and the Book. "When was the last time you were born again?" a voice inside my head asked. "Everyday" I mused, and then worried nervously like i had given a wrong answer at a divine interview.

"Never judge a girl by her panties" strung out the beeping crosstalk. "If I had a penny for every time my mind looked beneath a pair of those, I would be in a stretch Limo and not this damn van" I protested. "Don't count your pennies before the action takes over" rang the admonishing warning bells.

Behold I saw as the ones clothed in white passed by there were unbearable beeps and screams from the device embedded on the panties and as I probed more, I found the cortices of the visual areas and the motor cortex showed unusual flow of blood and oxygen that bundled together in furious speed. These bundles rode the blood stream on the speed boat called LV Carnality and anchored on the Port of Sensuality. The furious activity within resulted in a change in demeanor of the Men clad in white. Now their faces flushed with hyper activity of hyper sensuality passed on as reverence as they sang in bliss.

The low beep activity on the Book monitoring gadget was when the naked passed by, but then they were not allowed by the semen tainted men, for they did not comply with the dress code.

The reading of the week said " man shall not live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of the Lord ". Amused I was, as I stretched my crammed up limbs, and I screamed a scream so loud "The end of the world is drawing nigh" There was commotion and screaming, the ground was strewn with the tattered pages of the Pilgrims Progress, but the panties were missing.

I walked purveying the ground. "The words of life are trampled to the floor" I whispered, and suddenly I saw a group of people, naked, clothed in ashes and sackcloth, crawling on the ground and eating the pages on the ground like unto starved cattle. I counted 7 of them lean to the bone, being nourished by the words they had chewed on. And in a twinkling of an eye their countenance shone, like unto the stars, they grew horns on all sides, some 8 and some 10. Their legs had become strong and they possessed the strength of a unicorn.

Even as they seemed to have their fill foraging the leaves of the tattered book on the ground their eyes displayed intense hunger. They snorted and suddenly the earth shook as they like, lemmings, in one accord rushed into the cathedral consuming all that was found, words of all kind, that were strung together in hymns, liturgies, books were feasted upon.

Now they seem possessed with a new vision and strength. Their breath being boisterous and belligerent they crashed the walls and the gates of the Cathedral. The world outside stood in awe and many fell on the ground and worshiped saying "Behold the bearers of the Word"

(inputs from Arul Baliah)

Posted via email from wordcreates's posterous


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