AM Static Jesus - Day 2

I woke up dry heaving, worst hangover since...oof...the Bush Administration? 

There was a horrible screeching - like teeth grinding against the fork while eating, but really loud and add chalkboard fingernails sound in my head. I didn't want to open my eyes. But suddenly I smelled smoke and saw reddish flickering lights beyond my eye lids.  I open my eyes 

The radio was on fire. 

Literally. 

It had 2 shot glasses of overflowing alcohol on fire. Very pretty blue flame. No clue where they came from. 

The screeching was horrible, so I sat up straight, holding my ears. 

Everything went away. Gone. Instantly.

Nausea. Headache. Screeching. 

All suddenly gone. And what I can only describe as a deeper kind of quiet than I've personally known.

    "Good morning!" with the kind of morning cheer that I loathe. It was him again. And I'm not capitalizing that because I'm not quite sure who this is yet or what's going on. 

I just woke up. I'm a little traumatized. I look at the ashes of my spontaneously combusted radio.  

Suddenly I notice I am still hearing the voice. 

As if on cue, the voice chimes in.

    "Yep! I figured this would save a couple of steps if we jump forward that I'm not the result of some radio trick or practical joke from any of your friends. You just have to figure out if you're crazy, or if this real." 

'The Voice' I think to myself. What is this? Who is this voice? Am I having delusions? 

"    No, Mark. This isn't just a spin of a different story. You have had these puzzle pieces all along, but never used them together. 

The only thing in my life that I've ever been "proud" of is my mind. I know it's unusual. I know its weird. I've always feared it would go sideways on me someday. Dunno why. I've put myself into a lot of unusual situations to experience and learn. Some of them good, some of them very bad. Some of them admittedly very, very fun. 

But this.....it's more than a little outside of my wheelhouse, my comfort zone. However the fuck are you supposed to know if only you can see your own potential hallucination. This is getting a little John Paul Sartre even for me. 

I stand up and am about to say that I need a minute. But before I can even get the first syllable out, the Voice... how do I describe it? ....I got knocked off of a toilet once in Okeechobee Florida during a lightning storm. House got struck and your body doesn't always react as you might think. I had no control and flipped over. 

This Voice - was like that. But more. 

"TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES, FOR THOU ART ON HOLY GROUND!"

I literally feel thrown from....where was I just then....and there's a horrible cracking sound, I feel bush leaves scratching me....and a freakish heat. I got really dizzy and had enough sense to bend down to the ground so I didn't completely pass out. Did AM Jesus really just do a 12th Century burning bush on me? 

Then I remember the voice's instruction about the shoes. I start to take off my shoes. He laughed. 

     " Just kidding. I'm not TSA, brother."

Heat gone. Bush gone. Cracking was apparently an antique coat tree that I tripped over. The bush was a...ghillie suit? That looked like one my son had once. Then I hear the Muszak - The Girl from Ipanema. 

"There we are." 

It's him. Again I'm seriously weirded out right now. 

    He laughed. "Imagine how your friends feel."

Wow. The Voice just went there. Like I try to tell people what they really thi....uh oh. 

He continued "Let's be real for a moment and take a chance on being open and vulnerable, yeah? You know - and I know - that none of this truly means a thing on it's own. You think modern religion is in your colorful vernacular "the churches of blissful sedation". That the chase for relevance has made them irrelevant." 

And oh boy, he wasn't done. "You have used an analogy a few times and your approach is...interesting. You claim to be similar to those "other disciples" mentioned in the gospels. Jesus' disciples wanted to chastise them. Jesus said no. You've quoted and sang "Jesus Don't Want Me For A Sunbeam", but turn around immediately and say "but maybe he'll settle for a match in a dark room?"

So...if you think you can do better - well, let's find out. We'll call it a thought exercise." 

"Sound good?" I hear from behind me in a....what was that....holy shit. 

I turn around and look down at a 67" 80ish year old George Burns chomping on a cigar. 

"Fuck me running" I mutter to myself. 

George Burns looks at me and says "You know, I once toyed with that idea. The chaffing made it too impractical. He smiles and takes a puff of the cigar. 

"Are you messing me with me" I ask.. You can't be mad at a short 80 year old hilarious vaudeville actor, even if he was messing with me. And....wait a minute. 

Even Elvis knew that you can't go on together with suspicious minds. "Are you telling me that you are God. Like...Father, Son, Holy Spirit, 3 in 1, yada yada. You. George Burns doppleganger. Seriously? And I'm who? Take Me Home John Denver?"

He switched back to his "regular voice", 

    "I am not saying anything. You would not even understand the questions if I gave you all the answers. It either matters, or it doesn't. If it doesn't matter, you won't even know. But if it does..." he trailed off. 

I don't believe that any of this is real. I am not convinced that I'm not talking to myself. I would hate to think that I've finally crossed into lunacy, but #2022, so whatever. 

    He asked me "Does it have to be real in order to have value? 

    Does it have to be literal and accurate in all ways yet without sin?...

    C'mon man!" (in a Biden voice)

WIthout even looking at him, I just said literally "Hashtag too soon."

He laughed. 

I finally broke down my own little wall and asked him directly - "What are you saying?"

He replayed my last comment back to him. Over the office intercom. In my own voice. 

"#toosoon"

I turn around and go back to my desk and how in the heck does it look like I am back at my first real job....the original office. It has to be 1996-ish. I see....a kid version of me walking fast like he's on the way to a Chinese Fire Drill World Championship. WTF? 

"Excuse me"...he said to me without looking. This is seriously fucked up. 

George is next to me as we stand over the side as I watch my life playing out from a completely different perspective. No cellphones. More people talking to each other. We were less lonely without social media. I shake my head. 

     "No, those are useful things to see and compare with today. You've always straddled so many different worlds. You already know that this is who you are, fundamentally. So...let's see where this goes. Maybe you'll have something useful to say for once. Although your characterizations of modern worship music are pretty funny. 

"Look at How I Feel About Jesus" & "Jesus is my boyfriend.". He laughed again. "Funny stuff."

It's almost as if I've been running in my head. And I suddenly stopped. You realize that what you thought was quiet, really isn't quiet at all. There is a quiet you can feel. Almost like silk that surrounds you without resistance or weight. 

I suddenly blurt out "I'm the last person anyone will listen to."

Silence. Puff. Smoke billow. 

"Seriously dude. 

I've got scars. I've got wounds. I've got conflicts and hypocrisies and fuck ups. 

Some impressively naïve. Some impressively brave. Some impressively dumb."

    "Maybe that's why you might be successful where others haven't been. Maybe myself and others think you might be good in this role. 

"Dude. I don't think you understand...." I'm running out of runway. Panic attack. Full blown. Can't breathe. 

Eject!. Eject!. Train arms come down. Danger Will Robbins. That's a negative Ghostrider, the pattern is full. 

"

    Ok, first. I'm not your dude. I'm not a dude and get Jeff Bridges out of your head."

I internally giggle in silence. 

    "Let's try and use a little respect."

I internally giggle again.

    "This is not time for Aretha Franklin either."

I return his smile. 

"This is why you are perfectly perfect, Mark. You can be anybody. You translate ideas and education from a different perspective that everyone could use right now. And you are just weird enough to make those close to you a little confused as to whether you believe this is real or not. And the thought of that is admittedly funny."

Next thing I know - it's 1 a.m. and I'm laying in my bed. No clue what or how that happened. I rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. 

And there was evening and there was morning. It was the 2nd day.