121 lines
7.6 KiB
Plaintext
121 lines
7.6 KiB
Plaintext
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'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
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##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: ===========================================
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##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #325 !!
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#########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS! !!
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##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: ===========================================
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##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: "Jesus In Your Cereal" !!
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##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: by -> Ashtray Heart !!
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..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 12/9/98 !!
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!!========================================================================!!
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My Alpha-Bits cereal spelled out "Jesus" once. So after that I
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switched cereals to Cheerios. But the really spooky thing about that is
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that then my CHEERIOS started spelling out Jesus. And making little
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crosses and stuff. It just got worse and worse and worse. I mean, I'd
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get "JOHN 3:16" in my cereal, so I would start ripping apart my cereal
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bowls, and then my cereal boxes, to see if there were little tiny
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Jesuses hiding in my cereal, like there are little tiny naked robot
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Abraham Lincolns hiding out in the woods and pretending to be fairies.
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But no luck. I couldn't find a Jesus anywhere hiding there. Then I
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figured it was just a Christian plot, the way the Christians put up
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billboards all over the place trying to convert me, trying to induct me
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into the militia of self-confessed failures. But that's one thing,
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that's one promise I made my daddy when I was young, I said "Dad, I
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won't disappoint you. I won't turn into one of those Christians, no
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matter how bad things get." But it didn't let up, you know. It started
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saying "REPENT OR DIE!" And I would start talking back to the cereal, I
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would say "Don't you see? Christianity DOESN'T MAKE SENSE! It's ABSURD
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AND SELF-DEFEATING?" Well, so, I guess, is evangelical messages in your
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cereal.
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And yes, I did try switching brands. Store brand, Post,
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Kellogg's, Mueslix, Kaboom!, Uncle Sam -- they ALL did it. Even QUISP,
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for Christ's sake! I tried different bowls, too -- I one day replaced
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all my bowls and silverware, which I couldn't really afford, but I did
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it anyway. Any way to get that fucking Jesus Freak cereal to shut the
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hell up. To no avail.
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I started interrogating my neighbors who were Christians, to see
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if they had done anything to my cereal. Most of them weren't, except
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for the sanctimonious old bat who lived on the floor below me. She was
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always making tut-tut sounds about my dress habits and complaining to
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the super about the volume at which I played my stereo. I have no idea
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how she even knew; she was half-deaf anyway. Anyway, I asked her about
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cereal and she came right back at me telling me that cold cereal was a
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tool of the devil, that it was an occult plot and that no matter what
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that Mr. Kellogg had said about it helping you to lead a Christian
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lifestyle, she knew different. She had seen what the youth of today
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were up to, and she could tell you, sonny, it was for one reason --
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well, two reasons: Flouride in the water, and cold breakfast cereal.
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When SHE was growing up she'd eaten cream of wheat, and still did to
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this very day, and she'd lived to be eighty-seven years old and had been
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a healthy and moral Christian woman all that time. I thought about
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telling her about my fundamentalist cereal, that it had been giving me
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the same kind of bullshit she gave me on a regular basis, but I figured
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there was no way she could possibly know anyway, and besides which she
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carried enough weight with the super that she might possibly get me
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kicked out, though it wasn't very likely.
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Anyway, then I wondered if the cereal was turning into the
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Eucharist, through transubstantiation, or something, and if I was
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putting myself in a state of mortal sin just by eating Raisin Bran. I
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wondered if I should venerate the cheerios in a big ol' monstrance with
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fake beams of light coming out of it on all sides. I wondered if there
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was an All-Bran Jesus growing inside my belly just for eating breakfast.
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Or worse, if it was turning me into a Christian just by my eating it. I
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had seen enough previously rational and sane friends give up all sense
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of pride and self-worth in the name of some kind of bogus savior to know
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that I wasn't immune to that sort of thing. And I WAS reading the Bible
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more often, but not because I believed in Jesus, or anything; I was just
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trying to find ways to get back at the cereal. Theological arguments.
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I'd point out all the contradictions and flaws in the Bible to it, but
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all it would say is "Even the Devil can quote scripture." It didn't
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answer when I asked it if that meant that IT was the devil. That damn
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cereal was driving me out of my fucking mind. But I didn't want to give
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up eating cereal. I really love cereal.
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Eventually I tried to kill it. I tried to kill my cereal. I
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would dump dead cockroaches I found around my apartment into it. I'd
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drop rat poison into it. It would just come back and say "Jesus
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forgives you" and "You're only hurting yourself." Nothing I did to it
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seemed to work. One day I got so distraught I blew a hole right through
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the goddamned cereal bowl with a shotgun. The blast went straight into
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the apartment of the neighbor that lived below me. I had to pay two
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weeks' salary to get the place fixed, but at least that bitch moved out
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the next week. It didn't stop anything, but I kind of figured that she
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hadn't really had anything to do with it in the first place, so it
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didn't bother me.
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So what I eventually tried was, because talking to the cereal
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didn't work, I bought a box of cereal and started putting pamphlets for
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other religions, like the Church of the Subgenius, in my cereal. They'd
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get all soggy, but I didn't care. I wasn't eating the cereal anyway. I
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had switched to Pop-Tarts for the duration. I would watch the cereal
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every morning and every morning it got a little more agitated. It would
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call me a blasphemer, a scoffer, and a mocker. It would tell me I was
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going straight to hell. It would curse me in the name of Jesus.
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Instead of going "snap, crackle, pop", my rice crispies would scream and
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bark out obscenities. The milk would turn brown even when it WASN'T one
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of those yummy chocolatey cereals. It would start boiling over and
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spilling out of the bowl. I soon learned to put it on a protective
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plastic plate, because otherwise the spilled milk would eat right
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through the table. It was really getting to test my endurance. One day
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it started spitting bits of cereal right at my face. It burned like
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boiling fat. I had to go to the doctor for that one. I kept with it,
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though, because I knew that I was getting to it and it couldn't last
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forever.
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After about two months of pamphlets, I woke up one morning with
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an uncanny sense of peace. I went to fix the traditional bowl of
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cereal -- Alpha-Bits this morning -- and found everything stilled. No
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curses, strange chemical reactions, or upheaval. I looked into the bowl
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and found that this morning it had spelled out, simply, "PRAISE 'BOB'."
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I smiled. Since that day, I've eaten cereal every morning and have even
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come to look forward to the way it uplifts and inspires me. I've even
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gotten my cereal its own Church ordainment card -- when the flying
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saucers come to take me off to space, I want my cereal to come with me.
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!!========================================================================!!
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!! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! #325, WRITTEN BY: ASHTRAY HEART, 12/9/98 !!
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