05-08-2024, 01:09 AM
We find a tiny blonde woman in pigtails and a black dress flipping through an old black leather-bound book, not paying attention to the camera recording her. On the wall behind her hang a collection of wrestling championship belts as well as a collection of skulls and other nefarious religious symbols such as inverted crosses and red and black candles sitting atop iron sconces. As she flips through the pages, a shoe dangles off her toes precariously. The woman never lifts her eyes, as if she is talking to the book itself,or just seemingly out loud. To her left, a fireplace roars, casting flickering shadows over the woman and the wall behind her. At the angle she is sitting, shadows of what could be described as wings form behind her.
“Psalm 23. Everyone knows it, don’t they? Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. I’m sure you can quote your book all day long. The very book that was handed down for centuries, in every language. The original words losing their meaning over time as every rendition has someone’s bias, someone’s ‘understanding’. A book created by MAN to hold down the masses. The ORIGINAL book of fiction.
Have I blasphemed enough to get your attention, Pastor? Personally, I don’t think I’ve gone far enough. See, while you and your kind look to the heavens in search of God? People like me bankroll people like you. I guess this is where you require some explanation, don’t you?”
The woman looks down at the book she was perusing and nonchalantly tosses it into the fireplace. From the glow of the fire, you can see the gold inscription on the black leather. The Holy Bible. The woman re-fits her shoe to her foot, crosses her legs, and folds her hands onto her lap, both in a gesture of purity with a look of mockery.
“The core belief of Christianity is to live the purest life possible so you may enjoy paradise upon walking through the Pearly Gates. And to assist in keeping one as pure as possible, there is a divine being in the sky who one must live in fear of. This divine being loves everyone unconditionally ONLY if one lives by a set of rules. Commandments, if you will. And if one breaks any of these commandments, they are sent to a place of torture and fire and pain. Let’s just say it as it is. Fear God, or face Satan. What a crock of shit that is. How can someone live as a practical prisoner and yet be told they have free will? How can someone follow doctrine of a divine being who would… let’s pretend I’m playing along… this being celestially impregnates a virgin, has him grow up shunned by everyone until he can prove he can provide through miracles, only to be crucified, forced to die, and then brought home to the place he began. Stop me when ANY of what I just said makes ANY bit of fucking sense!
But hell if there aren’t a lot of people who believe it, and a hell of a lot of people like you ready and willing to take advantage. I can surely bet the money coming from those collection plates aren’t going to local food banks and homeless shelters. Nah. You need bigger boats, bigger houses, bigger houses of the Lord to show your opulence over the followers who are kept as sheep and kept as intelligent as said sheep so you may fleece them over and over again. No wonder The Lord is Thy Shepherd.”
The woman rolls her eyes in disgust. From the fireplace, the pages crackle and pop which makes the woman smile. She picks up an ornate goblet and takes a sip from whatever is inside it and places it down beside her again. She sways front to back and the winged shadows behind her appear to flap.
“Shall we talk about the Sins? No, no, not the seven deadly ones, we’ll be here forever. Complete full of shit there too, especially when we didn’t need the Scooby gang to pull the mask off that monster only for it to be revealed as Dean Matthews. If you know, you know. No, I’m talking about the irony of The Original Sin. The LOSS of free will… except to sin. Or, or, this is my favorite definition. The fact your BIRTH is a sin upon YOU, thus making you tainted from the minute you arrive. Now, do I have to go back and point out the part about people needing to live pure or face hell? You know what, let’s lay it out again for the simple person, also known as a Christian. Because your mother got knocked up by somebody, YOU bear the weight of your mother’s action. Thus making you impure at birth, thus giving you a disadvantage to living the purest of lives from the minute you drew your first breath.
If you’ve been following along this far, I have just proven that Christianity is fake, a scam, and a game rigged against you. You know what? I will gladly wear the crown of the villain because not a single one of you will, or CAN, snap out of the reverie you’re in. You’ve never known any different. You were never allowed to question it, you were simply told to believe and have faith. Those sound like cop out answers to me.”
The woman hops off the desk, reaches behind her and unzips her dress, revealing her wrestling gear underneath of red and black. She removes her shoes and starts to put on her Doc Martens boots. She walks around the desk she had been sitting on and picks up her leather Devil’s Doves kutte and puts it on. She picks up the goblet and downs the rest of it in a single gulp and tosses it aside. She smiles devilishly at the camera as she sits back on her desk with a short hop.
“So now that I have eviscerated everything you stand for, allow me to introduce myself. I am Eavan, and that’s all I really feel obligated to tell you. However, it would be only fair to offer some balance, no? Where you preach abstinence, I enjoy indulgence. Death is the ultimate abstinence, and where’s the fun in dying? WATCHING someone die, though, in certain circumstances, is quite exciting but I digress. LIFE is the ultimate indulgence, and I choose to live for a variety of reasons. Life allows me to enjoy time with my friends and family. Life allows me the opportunity to fight for money. Life allows me to do whatever I want, TRUE free will.
Where you sell your flock a spiritual pipe dream, I’m dropping literal pipe bombs. Where you say love thy neighbor, I say I’m kind to those who deserve it, and I kick the asses of those who deserve THAT. You spread fear with your touting of sins and commandments, I embody all of them as they give me true gratification. And as I said at the very top of all this, it’s people like me who keep your houses standing and your money flowing.”
Eavan gets up again and turns off her fireplace, leaving the room quite dark save for a faint light of a setting sun. Eavan cocks an eyebrow and chuckles.
“Which begs the question, what does all of this have to do with you, me, and Breakdown? The answer, padre, is simple once you turn the light off on all the lies. Everything you are comes from beyond. From up high, from the good book, which as we’ve established is complete fiction. Whereas everything I am comes from within. My actions are my responsibility. Yours are His will. Does that make you free, or does that make you a pawn? Those mental chains must be suffocating and I’m going to make you gasp just a little bit more.
There ain’t nothing up there that can save you, and nothing below that can take you. They were created to strike fear. And yet, here I am, frolicking in the very valley of the shadow of death from the psalm, and I fear no evil.
Because evil is me, and I don’t fear me.
But YOU should.
In the colony of sinners, Pastor, where will you walk?”
“Psalm 23. Everyone knows it, don’t they? Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. I’m sure you can quote your book all day long. The very book that was handed down for centuries, in every language. The original words losing their meaning over time as every rendition has someone’s bias, someone’s ‘understanding’. A book created by MAN to hold down the masses. The ORIGINAL book of fiction.
Have I blasphemed enough to get your attention, Pastor? Personally, I don’t think I’ve gone far enough. See, while you and your kind look to the heavens in search of God? People like me bankroll people like you. I guess this is where you require some explanation, don’t you?”
The woman looks down at the book she was perusing and nonchalantly tosses it into the fireplace. From the glow of the fire, you can see the gold inscription on the black leather. The Holy Bible. The woman re-fits her shoe to her foot, crosses her legs, and folds her hands onto her lap, both in a gesture of purity with a look of mockery.
“The core belief of Christianity is to live the purest life possible so you may enjoy paradise upon walking through the Pearly Gates. And to assist in keeping one as pure as possible, there is a divine being in the sky who one must live in fear of. This divine being loves everyone unconditionally ONLY if one lives by a set of rules. Commandments, if you will. And if one breaks any of these commandments, they are sent to a place of torture and fire and pain. Let’s just say it as it is. Fear God, or face Satan. What a crock of shit that is. How can someone live as a practical prisoner and yet be told they have free will? How can someone follow doctrine of a divine being who would… let’s pretend I’m playing along… this being celestially impregnates a virgin, has him grow up shunned by everyone until he can prove he can provide through miracles, only to be crucified, forced to die, and then brought home to the place he began. Stop me when ANY of what I just said makes ANY bit of fucking sense!
But hell if there aren’t a lot of people who believe it, and a hell of a lot of people like you ready and willing to take advantage. I can surely bet the money coming from those collection plates aren’t going to local food banks and homeless shelters. Nah. You need bigger boats, bigger houses, bigger houses of the Lord to show your opulence over the followers who are kept as sheep and kept as intelligent as said sheep so you may fleece them over and over again. No wonder The Lord is Thy Shepherd.”
The woman rolls her eyes in disgust. From the fireplace, the pages crackle and pop which makes the woman smile. She picks up an ornate goblet and takes a sip from whatever is inside it and places it down beside her again. She sways front to back and the winged shadows behind her appear to flap.
“Shall we talk about the Sins? No, no, not the seven deadly ones, we’ll be here forever. Complete full of shit there too, especially when we didn’t need the Scooby gang to pull the mask off that monster only for it to be revealed as Dean Matthews. If you know, you know. No, I’m talking about the irony of The Original Sin. The LOSS of free will… except to sin. Or, or, this is my favorite definition. The fact your BIRTH is a sin upon YOU, thus making you tainted from the minute you arrive. Now, do I have to go back and point out the part about people needing to live pure or face hell? You know what, let’s lay it out again for the simple person, also known as a Christian. Because your mother got knocked up by somebody, YOU bear the weight of your mother’s action. Thus making you impure at birth, thus giving you a disadvantage to living the purest of lives from the minute you drew your first breath.
If you’ve been following along this far, I have just proven that Christianity is fake, a scam, and a game rigged against you. You know what? I will gladly wear the crown of the villain because not a single one of you will, or CAN, snap out of the reverie you’re in. You’ve never known any different. You were never allowed to question it, you were simply told to believe and have faith. Those sound like cop out answers to me.”
The woman hops off the desk, reaches behind her and unzips her dress, revealing her wrestling gear underneath of red and black. She removes her shoes and starts to put on her Doc Martens boots. She walks around the desk she had been sitting on and picks up her leather Devil’s Doves kutte and puts it on. She picks up the goblet and downs the rest of it in a single gulp and tosses it aside. She smiles devilishly at the camera as she sits back on her desk with a short hop.
“So now that I have eviscerated everything you stand for, allow me to introduce myself. I am Eavan, and that’s all I really feel obligated to tell you. However, it would be only fair to offer some balance, no? Where you preach abstinence, I enjoy indulgence. Death is the ultimate abstinence, and where’s the fun in dying? WATCHING someone die, though, in certain circumstances, is quite exciting but I digress. LIFE is the ultimate indulgence, and I choose to live for a variety of reasons. Life allows me to enjoy time with my friends and family. Life allows me the opportunity to fight for money. Life allows me to do whatever I want, TRUE free will.
Where you sell your flock a spiritual pipe dream, I’m dropping literal pipe bombs. Where you say love thy neighbor, I say I’m kind to those who deserve it, and I kick the asses of those who deserve THAT. You spread fear with your touting of sins and commandments, I embody all of them as they give me true gratification. And as I said at the very top of all this, it’s people like me who keep your houses standing and your money flowing.”
Eavan gets up again and turns off her fireplace, leaving the room quite dark save for a faint light of a setting sun. Eavan cocks an eyebrow and chuckles.
“Which begs the question, what does all of this have to do with you, me, and Breakdown? The answer, padre, is simple once you turn the light off on all the lies. Everything you are comes from beyond. From up high, from the good book, which as we’ve established is complete fiction. Whereas everything I am comes from within. My actions are my responsibility. Yours are His will. Does that make you free, or does that make you a pawn? Those mental chains must be suffocating and I’m going to make you gasp just a little bit more.
There ain’t nothing up there that can save you, and nothing below that can take you. They were created to strike fear. And yet, here I am, frolicking in the very valley of the shadow of death from the psalm, and I fear no evil.
Because evil is me, and I don’t fear me.
But YOU should.
In the colony of sinners, Pastor, where will you walk?”