My name is Jesse Jesus Sock and I’m a prophet out of my own head. God lives inside my skull. Not your skull. Only mine.

“Ain’t you the dude who predicted the end of World War II ten years after it happened?”

First off, “dude” is a shit word. Nobody with an IQ over 75 says it anymore. Second, I was seven years old when I did that.


When you were seven you still licked the snot off your sister’s face. Time magazine said I was brilliant, articulate, and wrong. So, fuck you. Drink yourself to death. Get homosexually raped. It won’t make a man out of you, but it’ll make you something, at least

They call me the Revelator because I’m a hot spot for Revelations. I never asked for this honor; I crawled on my knees begging for it. You see, I don’t have a brain in my head. Artistic talent have I not and I tried them all.

“Hey, Mr. Bathe in the Ganges Man. What effect is the plague having on the children.”

“The children.”

“Our precious ones.”

“Weep, weep!”

“Save our darlings!”

Why do you go on and on about your children? Fuck them! You flatter yourselves into thinking that your parenting has molded them in anything other than nasty deceiving dung beetles.

Your influence over them stops at age ten when they gotcha down cold. Now some parents think a simple family is not good enough. They want to found a cult with their offspring. the Cult of the Fishers, or the Westovals, or the Shumucks. The Aspirationals. The Douche Bags.

This one family cult I knew had three boys born two years apart. Their mission was to check off all the cool little boxes: Varsity basketball, baseball, Knights of the Round Table, Student Council presidents, Men of the Year. The Trophy Room.  Ready for the business world bullshit.

“I knew a family of girls like that.”

“Headless Capitalist Turkeys.”

“Robots, brainwashed.”

“Greasy, Oversexed, Pussy Rats!”

“We raised you boys to be leaders.”

“Lead men into battle.”

You think any of them went to ‘Nam?

“Ha, ha. Fuck no.”

“Hell no!”

“Crucify them!”

That’s the spirit! Crucify these people. That’ll shape them up.

Look, I got hours of fresh Japanese porn to test. Chuck the Child Molester and Creepy Pete will be around to collect your free will offerings.

Bring your friends! If you don’t have any, make them up. Kidnap them. I got to make more money!

Author: Mark Wilt

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