It’s real fucking simple. I’m not against your fucking Jesus Christ; I don’t give a crap about your fucking Jesus Christ. All I give a crap about is the old woman who’s sitting down in her son’s house in Iraq trying to get some fucking food in her stomach when the shrapnel comes in her son’s house and fucks up the whole house (and guess who else in the process?). It is because of this woman that I have created the Anti-Christ movement. If the Anti-Christ was on earth, woman-in-son’s-house-trying-to-get-some-fucking-food-in-her-stomach wouldn’t be dead.
Have you heard of the Tower of Babel? Hmm? You Christian fanatics woulda heard about it. You know, before I continue, I have to remark here about the coolness of the bible as a book. Just as a book, not a religious book. It’s a great book; that is without the divine and prophetic crap. It’s a really wise book inspired by the struggles of the Jewish people. Some people have gone as far as to say that it is the most complete book of history that the Jewish people have. I think I agree. Without the bible, and its cool quips, the Jewish people would probably be one of the most fucked up races of all time. Ironically, their history kinda quotes them as being one of the most fucked up races in the world. You know, Egypt and shit.
Off that. So the Tower of Babel. So once again the people of the world were misbehaving and God got pissed. God said to them go build a fucking tower in Babel, but truly, he wasn’t really fucking specific about the height. But whatever. The people got creative with the shit and thought “Oh my Yahweh, why not build the tower so high that it reaches heaven?” So God was pissed. He was thinking, “These fucking cocksuckers, they’re gonna get to heaven before they’re supposed to.” So he fucked them up and punished them by dividing them up at the Tower of Babel and by making them speak different languages.
I mean, we hear this story in Sunday school and the other kids go “Oooohhhh. Aaaaaahhhh. He punished them. Ooooohhhhh.” I’m fucking thinking “Why is that a punishment? He made them speak different languages, so what?” You wanna know why it’s a punishment? It’s because today, the product of different languages, countries and nationalities, is the main cause of war all over the world. God, Yahweh, Mr. Fantastic, Mr. Know-It-All, knew that this would be the product. We would not be able to “understand” each other, and we would fight amongst ourselves.
Women-in-son’s-houses-trying-to-get-some-fucking-food-in-their-stomachs would continue to be killed century in century out.
That’s why it was a punishment. So all you ”Ooooohhhhh-ers” and “Aaaaaaaahhhhhh-ers” in Sunday school, shut the fuck up and get your fucking mood dampened already. Nation. Nationality. War. More war. Why did George Bush go to Iraq? Because they had oil and America didn’t. But if we were under the banner of the “Anti-Christ”, or more literally, a President of the world, Iraq’s oil would be America’s oil, and America’s zero-natural-resources would be Iraq’s zero-natural-resources.
The advent of nations and nationalities has poisoned the human race immensely. We have become filled with hate. We instinctively don’t like the other guy. Ever get that feeling when other people are conversing in another language, that they’re speaking of you? Because you’re the odd one out? Because you can’t speak their language? They laugh and you just know that they’re insulting you? The motherfuckers, right? That’s your fucking ego talking. I’m different, you’re thinking. Fuck them. In my country, we have girls with large firm backsides. So fuck them. This is the fucking ego that we acquired with the advent of nationalities.
Take all those fucking egos and multiply them by 50 million at least. Then we have come to the national level. The country-level. Countries are so fucking proud. So fucking arrogant. Hey, hey! Ahmajinedad, what the fuck you doing with nuclear technology? We the only ones supposed to have that! Stop playing with shit that’s bigger than you boy! Say what? Fuck us? Nah Nah Fuck you!
World War Three Starts. Or Cold War Two. I’ve always wanted the Cold War to have a sequel.
So what the fuck am I talking about? The Anti-Christ? Most of you are thinking. “This dude done lost his mind.” And I’m not gonna say I wouldn’t blame you; igna’ant motherfuckers. The minority understands what I’m talking about. The Anti-Christ is meant to bring world peace, but the books and prophets don’t say how. But they also tell us that he will be ruler over the entire world. It is for this reason that Christian fanatics are so fucking scared about the progress that organizations like the EU and the AU are making. They are scared that the world is getting smaller, and real soon, we will be under one banner, and the Anti-Christ will have his allotted time.
I’m not scared, because I don’t believe in that bullshit. But I am excited at the idea of a leader of the world. A world where there’s only one country. A world where there wouldn’t need to be wars because if we’re all under the same banner, then who the fuck are we fighting? You get my point now? We need an Anti-Christ to put an end to all these senseless, exploitative wars. We need an Anti-Christ to end the murder of helpless, unarmed kids, and women, and pregnant women, and people in advanced years. We need an Anti-Christ to bring world peace.
That’s how the Anti-Christ that they tell us of in church was meant to bring world peace. He wasn’t gonna come here, stand on a rickety boat in the middle of the Pacific, do a Jesus, and say “Peace be still.” Nah. He was just gonna remove boundaries and nationalities and reverse the punishment given to us at the Tower of Babel.
Have you seen them kids? Them kids in Somalia, Sudan, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Israel, Lebanon, Palestinian kids, all those kids. Have you seen them? The fire of life in their eyes is extinguished. They don’t give a fuck no more. They seem to have the knowledge that they’re never going to make a good life for themselves. They’ve given up. And now I’m gonna say I wouldn’t blame them. You got no parents, no shelter, no food, no siblings, no clothes, no education, your government isn’t helping you, the economic and political infrastructure in your country is non-existent, and even if you worked hard you ain’t getting shit. What the fuck do you expect such a kid to do? See you and NOT rape you? See you and NOT rob you? We all hate the Somali pirates because they take shit that ain’t theirs and they kill people. Man, what they’re doing will never be enough to counterbalance what’s been done to them.
We complain and complain about these by-products of war, but nah, why not let the war go on? I’m very fucking pissed about it. Until the shrapnel comes into your own house, you don’t care about it.
Think about it. Are you a mother? A father? Do you have siblings? Do you fucking love yourself? Think about it. Motherfuckers blow up your house just because you’re a fucking Nigerian. Your country don’t give a fuck, and it’s because of them they blew up your house in the fucking first place. You’ve lost everything; you’re a refugee. The only things you get are the things that get handed to you or the things you steal. All this misfortune jumping out the shadows attacking you, and it’s not even your fucking fault. Think about it. It don’t gotta come to your doorstep before you can imagine the pain, anger, depression and helplessness that the victims of war feel.
Dude. Just fucking imagine what would happen to you if war came to Nigeria. They don’t give a fuck now; imagine how much they’d give a fuck if war came here. Ask the fucking Ibos of the Biafran war. Dude.
You think it’s just something you see on TV. The fly stuck on that kid’s mouth, following him around as he manages to eat his first meal of the week. Charity organizations putting a number for you to call up on TV right under the mouth with the loyal fly. You think these people are kidding? You think it’s a fucking joke? You think it can’t come to you where you are? Even if you’re not thinking about these people, think about yourself motherfucker. Think about yourself.
This is the Anti-Christ movement. I don’t give a fuck about this movement seeing the light of day, I just hope it gets you to think. I want you to see that I’m prepared to float the banner of the Anti-Christ and get a stake driven through my heart and earn the hate of billions of people just to stop these endless, useless wars. I hope this inspires you to do something. Even if you’re not thinking about these people, think about yourself. Think for a fucking second. Think about yourself and support the Anti-Christ movement.
World peace.
P.S: I am not the Anti-Christ. I know, I know; you’re disappointed. But according to the myths, if I was the Anti-Christ, I’d be totally way more handsome than I am. World peace.
Aiight, aiight. I’m in Kalakuta Republic now. Just chilling. Just chilling.
Aiight, aiight. Back up. Back up.
Back up to what?
That’s a very good question.
Back up to what?
I haven’t smoked any weed in three days now; three days and running. It’s fucking tearing me inside out. I have found myself in this weird calm. A raging calm; a calm filled with anger. As the more colloquial would say, the calm before the storm.
Back up to what?
I can’t even remember how the fuck I got to this fucking place. Whenever I try to remember, it’s just a blur. It seems the blurriness of my past is even affecting my present. Everything in my present seems to shimmer. Like they’re not really there. Like they can disappear at any time. I made some new friends and whenever I see them it’s like I just met them for the first time. When we’ve established that we’ve been hanging out for a while, I ask them in my head, “How the fuck did you get here? What the fuck you doing talking to me? Do you even know who I am? Maybe you’ve mistaken me for someone else. What the fuck are you doing here with me?”
The lack of a past removes the possibility of any future. You’ll just be moving from present to present. No discernible future. Your life becomes foggy. You can’t see in any direction; backwards or forwards.
What am I doing? What the fuck am I doing? I’m unconsciously consciously undoing all the hard work I’ve put in this last year. I’m fucking up my own glory myself. I’m my own hater. I’m my own enemy. I hate myself for having more than I have. I hate the fact that I’m shining and I have to bring me down. I’m jealous of myself so I have to do all in my power to fuck myself up.
This is, I think, the higher road to suicide. There are those hater fucks that hate their lives because they don’t have shit. They see everyone around them stunting and they’re so fucking full of hate. Like who the fuck does that guy think he is? Who the fuck does that girl think she is? I can’t take their smugness anymore. And they fucking kill the other guy (Literally or metaphorically; as it pleases you).
I’m my own other guy.
If I ever kill myself it will not be out of pity and depression about my fucked up life. It will be because I hate myself. I hate what I can be and what I have been. I’m jealous of myself because I am no longer myself.
Perhaps that is why suicide is against the law. Maybe that’s why it can be simultaneously seen as murder of one’s self. You kill a dude out of spite. You hate him. He fucked with you, fucked you up, whatever. You just wanna take the breath from that motherfucker. You have no fucking right, whatever the motherfucker did to you. That’s murder. That’s against the law. But why should suicide be against the law? It’s your own life. You’re the one living it, so why shouldn’t you be the one to end it?
It’s against the law because you’re doing the same thing as the murderer I just described. The only difference is that the other guy is you.
Them leave sorrow, tears, and blood.
(Them regular trademark)
[Sorrow, Tears, and Blood by Fela Anikulapo-Kuti]
Yeah.
Sorrow, tears, and blood.
Those things blaze the trail ahead of me. My sorrow and my parents’ sorrow over me. My parents’ tears. The tainting of their blood. The blood I bleed from myself every day, fucking with myself.
My regular trademark.
When your parents and your friends feel like it’s time to give up on you, then you are truly fucked.
Fucked-up-ness becomes your, well, regular trademark.
In the blur of the past few months, I have totally fucked myself. I can’t see the cause in the blur, but in every shimmering present tense that I find myself, I can see the effect. It’s like the world in Resident Evil, the scene I see.
And this is the only time I can see it; the calm before the storm. The winds have fucked themselves and there’s been gestation and all that fucking bullshit and the chic wind is now in labour. Very soon their child, the storm, will be born. Is it going to be a bad storm like Hitler (to the Jews anyway) or is it gonna be a good storm like the chocolaty tasty slickness of M&Ms?
Who the fuck cares? No one but me.
And that’s why I’ve dropped so low that I’ve come to be in this hell. Even in this Dante’s Inferno, I have worked my way to the ninth level.
Because who the fuck cares? No one but me. And I don’t give a fuck.
I still don’t know if I give two.
But I think that’s the factor that’s gonna decide whether I get Hurricane Hitler or Hurricane M&Ms.
Thing is, it’s still a hurricane. Whether it’s good or bad, there’s still gonna be damage. It is inescapable. There’s no motherfucker that’s gonna wake up on a rickety boat and say “Peace be still.” There’s nothing like that.
There’s still gonna be some damage even if I change my ways now; because, this time, I fucked up for real. I fucked up real fucking bad.
In the calm of the storm, we prepare for the storm. There’s no running away from it now. What we do to prepare decides whether the storm smashes us the fuck up, or whether we ride the storm to the shores of paradise.
*The name “Silver Surfer” comes to mind.
