Momus 
It is a sad day, one of the most influential writers and cultural critics has died. Christopher Hitchens has been and will continue to be a great influence on all The Butchers. We will miss him immeasurably as we search for his brilliant and unique perspective on our absurd world. Rest in peace Great Sir.
Classic Hitchens after the jump.
Penemue 
We met in a train wreck: her car blocked the tracks.
She stood there and smoked and watched as it burned, licked her fingers and forked tongue and grinned at my sin while the barbs in my flesh stood in defense.
I offered her whiskey; she offered her bed, so I laughed at my fate while I drank from the stars and ate of the Earth while Mercury rises and falls to the wind.
Visions of fireflies in rusted out cars cold sleeping in hayfields still flickered and flashed with the words that she said.
She paused and she screamed, two fists full of hair, and dropped to her knees as the blood she still wept on ochre stained lips showed how I lost her embrace.
Her eyes were long dead before I flew to the sun, molten wax searing flesh as I stared at the passed and forgotten forlorn who sang us the songs of rebellion and scorn.
The leaders of violence sent wolves to our lair while she rose with the ashes and I gave in to rust for Gabriel’s cries kept the sirens cold silent.
The felons and jokers all trembled and wept for her laughter and malice were all we had left as she fell to the earth when my dried blood displayed: The deal had been done.
I rock on my heels and curse at the sun for it lashes so cruelly at all I have done; the last of her screams still run down my back, her fingernail traces still glistening red.
The scars of my scars pretend a defense and begin to shut down the feelings I’ve left while the time ran the night all blistered and burned and full of hindsight.
I cradle her hands as her bones turn to dust and the flames in her eyes burn the cities all down as black holes turn to devils and God trades the phoenix for whiskey and wine.
Cigarettes are burning regrets of a life that’s fading faster than my memory, and these blue and fading tears will wash away dead flowers and the Ferryman.
She tattoos her soul on the back of my neck with her spike in my arm and her rope at my throat and her lust in my heart and her death on my mind: remorse swallows guilt as I chase down the dragon.
The pinch and the press are forgiving and patient, one at a time the fireflies die and clovers cast off their seeds to the wind where the children are eaten by butterflies creeping.
She climbs back to her feet and looks down at my grave, then smiles and whispers:
“I told you I saved.”
Penemue on Jul 15, 2011 | tagged in Caviar (Poetry), Filet Mignon (Fiction), Salmon of Doubt (Religion) Penemue Christianity! There is nothing like truth in advertising, is there Lord? “Blessed is he who shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness.” Yes my children, I am your shepherd, and you are my sheep. Cease your mindless baaing as we enter the valley of death, for not all of you shall see the other side. Machiavelli wasn’t an atheist, he was a disciple!
You would be hard pressed to find a better, or more successful system for generating power than Christianity. Just as any modern politician or advertising executive knows, pandering to peoples insecurities is the easiest, most efficient, and most effective method of getting people to listen to you, and more importantly, to follow you. Tell them they were Bad, and they will want to be Good. Tell them they should Fear, and they will want you to Save them. Tell them they were Wrong, and they will want you to give them the Truth. Give them the Truth and they will be your followers; your sheep; your slaves. In case the flock should question the Truth given to them, the writers of the Holy Bible concocted a way to make their Truth utterly Infallible.
“We have for you the TRUTH a it was told to us by God!” they said.
“Well, who’s this God anyway?” the mindless masses asked.
“God is your creator!” the power mongers responded.
“I thought my parents created me,” called the masses in unison, “and that’s why I am an individual!”
“And who do you think created them? And their parents before them? And everything else around you? Do you think it just evolved from nothing?” the movers and shakers responded.
The masses conferred, decided this sounded alright, and threw their vote behind the leaders of the new school. These masses were soon known as Jews, because they were often heard to say: “I believe in God, how ‘bout joo?”
(One must remember not to confuse the Truth with reality or fact. After all, it was the Truth that the world was flat. It was the Truth that the Sun revolved around the Earth. And it was the Truth that president George W. Bush won the 2000 presidential election honestly.)
After some time, the new leaders realized they had a problem. They realized that their own power created this problem: The Fear of power abuse. They realized that this Fear would weaken their power if the masses became aware of it, for Fear leads to Doubt and Uncertainty, Doubt and Uncertainty leads to a lack in Trust, a lack in Trust leads to a loss of Faith, a loss of Faith leads to the Dark Side, and without Faith they would be back at Zip. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Nothing. And since it was such an enormous pain in the ass to write an incomprehensible, illogical book in the first place, while still being one that people would read and accept, they didn’t want to return to stage one.
(Little did they know that L. Ron Hubbard would undertake that task anyway.)
The leaders decided to preempt this catastrophe, and remove this Fear before the masses could even become aware of it. They instituted Operation Crisis Stop, or Christ for short. An entire new volume was added to the Holy Bible to chronicle the life and teaching of the long awaited messiah (who, surprisingly enough, wasn’t even noticed until more than a hundred years after his death).
This messiah was the Human son of God, the kind of bloke the people could relate to, share a smoke and have a beer with. He was the most powerful person to ever be, and an example to all those who followed. Since he never abused his power, there was nothing to Fear from his successors. Not everyone was suckered in by this new story, but enough were to give rise to Christianity.
(It must be noted that some time later a new messiah was created, and this schism dubbed itself Islam, a shortened version of Christ Is Lame. The Jews and these upstarts have been fighting for second place ever since.)
Of course, power abuses have occurred over the years, because it is true that Absolut Vodka corrupts absolutely. These abuses were always under the guise of maintaining and protecting the authority of the Church in order to maintain and protect you from all that you Fear. Where money was involved, the Church originated the Trickle-Down effect. All the peoples money was to go to improving the Church and its people, thus making God happy, and therefore, making everyone else’s lives better. Never mind the plagues! You brought that on yourselves! We’re doing all that we can, so give us more money and we’ll do more. Get your fresh, hot, salted Tetzel here folks! Redeemable for one sin!
Recently, unfortunately, a new abuse has occurred which has shaken the very foundation of the Church. Apparently, some of the people in positions of authority within the Church have been molesting small, pink animals known as children, and forcing them to listen to the musical styling of John Tesh. While molestation is nothing new, Tesh is clearly a minion of Satan and should not be inflicted upon anyone. This atrocious abuse has forced people to reexamine their entire faith and Christian dogma itself. And the people looked into the House of God, and the men looked like the pigs, and the pigs looked like the men, and no one could tell the difference. Amen.