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There Ain't No Justice #20
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*-* TTTTTTTTTT AAAAAA NNNN N J *-*
*-* T A A N N N J *-*
*-* T AAAAAAAAAA N N N J *-*
*-* T A A N N N J J *-*
*-* T A A N NNNN JJJJJ *-*
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*-* There Ain't No Justice *-*
*-* #20 *-*
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*-* Phoenix Modernz Inc. 908/830-8265 *-*
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- God Save the Children -
by Spartacus
Tens of thousands of people were packed like sardines in the
stadium to hear him. Many millions more watched from afar using cameras
for eyes and microphones for ears. The Reverend President Martin
Chandler began his address with his customary "People of the United
States..." He did not get farther than United before the assassin's
bullet struck him in the temple.
His mind exploded in a whirlwind of uncoordinated electrochemical
activity. Impressions of his life flashed through his disrupted brain.
His youth, his success in school. The time in college that he had
finally discovered a direction for his confused life. His decision to
transfer to a seminary. The first time he was pastor to church. His
realization that God wanted him in government. Being mayor, then state
representative, then governor, and finally the last great campaign that
brought about his Presidency. His influence and the new Supreme Court
Justice he had appointed had finally overturned Roe vs. Wade and made
abortion once more illegal in America. Yes, he had served his God well.
A hint of a smile touched his lips as he fell.
Blackness descended on the wreck of the President's brain...and
exploded into purest light.
His soul wafted free of his dead body. He could see dimly the
Secret Service men rushing towards the form that was once his, but it
didn't seem to matter. All around him moved the dance of spirits, some
moving, some resting, some attached to bodies, others floating free. He
began to remember, and his joy disappeared as suddenly as his latest
life. His latest WASTED life. "I was wrong after all," he reflected, as
his soul drifted through the netherworld, guided by the strange force
known to many as karma.
Trailing tendrils of consciousness latched onto a single fertilized
egg cell making its way toward the womb of a young woman, seemingly in
her teens. The soul began the long, drawn-out process of integrating
itself with a new physical form. "At least I'm safe. I made sure of that
last lifetime. It's something to hold on to. I don't need to worry about
dying again before I am born."
The cell divided many times. Martin Chandler's soul had decided to
call itself Martin until it received a new name. It was just beginning
to concentrate itself more in some cells of the embryo than the others.
Its thinking, once clear as light and free of the bonds of flesh, was
becoming slower and occasionally a bit muddled. It was reflecting on
what its new life might be like, if it would be male or female, for
example. It remembered that it had not been female for many lifetimes.
It hoped it would be born without defects.
Soon the embryo had a brain and a beating heart. It was shaped more
or less like a fish. Martin found itself concentrated almost entirely in
that brain, a claustrophobic sensation at best. It knew there would be a
time when it would barely be able to think at all, after it was attached
to the brain but before that brain had matured. It was not looking
forward to the prospect, but nevertheless felt confidence. It was safe.
It had made sure of that.
When the embryo had two arms and two legs, and looked more or less
human, Martin began to have blackouts. As was usual, the episodes were
very emotionally upsetting. Martin calmed itself afterward by thinking
of the wondrous thing it had done, how it was safe, SAFE, how all new
lives were safe, how they could never be callously ended before their
beginning. That always made it feel better.
As the embryo became a fetus, and approached birth, Martin's lucid
moments became less and less frequent. The link was almost complete. At
the last it could barely think in words even when it was withdrawn from
the body as far as it could reach. In those moments, the word that it
thought of was SAFE.
When nine months had passed, the baby was born. It was a girl. She
didn't know that she was female. She only knew she was SAFE. Her mother
would take care of her, no matter what.
The mother, sixteen years old, pulled herself to her feet in the
dark, abandoned building where she had given birth. She dressed herself
carefully, ignoring the pain she felt. Her trembling hands picked up the
baby and soon placed it in the dumpster outside. Tears dripped down her
cheeks and sobs racked her exhausted, hurting frame, but she turned
around and walked away into the night.
The child first felt puzzlement. Where was her mother going? When
she realized her mother was not coming back, she felt and ultimate
sadness and betrayal. In some way her infant mind could not understand,
she had betrayed herself. Her assurance of safety was an empty sham. As
time passed, all such considerations were washed from her consciousness
by physical sensations of cold and thirst and pain. She became too weak
even to cry.
Another life ended for that which had been Martin Chandler. This
death was as slow as the last one was quick. The disembodied soul took
its latest of countless trips through the netherworld. Another wasted
life.
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And now, a TANJ extra by Locutus of Borg!
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The How-To Book Of Crucifixition
Step 1: Find hammer, large nails, and some large pieces of wood.
This is the easy bit. No explanation necessary. (If You're having
trouble figuring out where to get these things, stop reading now.)
Step 2: Find the one you'd like to crucify.
This is a little harder to distinguish. You don't want to run out and
waste some good wood and nails on any old person, do you? Of course
not. Be selective for crucifixition.
Step 3: Set up the pieces of wood to something vaguely
cross shaped.
All this does is tell the crucifiee that this will not be fun, and that
the general idea forthcoming is pain, and lots of it.
Step 4: Flail and Nail!
This is a fun bit. All you do is restrain the crucifiee first. Rope
would do the trick, but if you're creative, use a crown of thorns. That
has been well documented as an effective way to do the job. Then
(Adults, lead your kids away from the computer for this bit) slam the
nails in various places/parts of the crucifee's body. This will usually
hurt, so don't get all suprised if they let out a yelp or two.
Step 5: Clean-up.
You're basically done. Now put the body in a cave for testing. If in
three days the body is up and about, and praying, you've done poorly.
Stop reading if this happens, maybe go take a course in crucifixition at
your local college...
Step 6: Complete!
Congratulations! You've just crucified your first victim! This may lead
to an exciting career, crucifying criminals, jerks, and various
messiahs! Print out your following diploma, and happy nailing!
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CERTIFICATE OF CRUICIFIXIATION
This document allows you to crucify people when/where
you see fit!
Chairman: Governor:
Jesus Christ IV Horacio Cifuenties
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