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Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy, Mary Magdalene, St John the Apostle

A Bad Rap (21)

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Book I: Chapter 21
June 22

So today I got MULTIPLE visions, abo–

Eh, what’s that — you have more questions? But don’t you want to hear about my vision? Oh, all right, go ahead, ask away…

If we are all immortal, why are Miriam and Alan so much younger than me?

That’s a damn good question – have you seen me lately? Does this look like it’s any fun?

Why am I so old?

I have often asked over the years.

A better question is – why in hell did Miriam and Alan get to remain so young and good looking while I had to grow old and haggard?

Ha, if only I knew the answer. Again, I go back to me supposedly being Jesus’ beloved and yet this is how he blesses me? Sounds like a pretty raw deal.

Was it Jesus who gave immortality to all three of us?

Yes.

When did he make Alan immortal and why?

As for the When – here’s another opportunity for you to read that great book I was telling you about – The Gospel of John. Open it up to Chapter 11 and you’ll see when Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead. But surely you already know that story, right? 

As for the Why, I would have to say for two reasons:

  1. First off, Lazarus was very dear to Jesus. We all liked Lazarus and his two sisters Mary of Bethany (not to be confused with Mary Magdalene) and Martha. All three of them were always kind to us whenever we stopped by. Lazarus even traveled around with us for awhile.
  2. But probably the real reason is that Jesus wanted Lazarus to help Mary and I with The Commission and I guess Jesus figured Lazarus would be the brain power behind the operation.

If that’s not correct, then your guess is as good as mine.

When did he make Miriam immortal and why?

Gee, let’s not get too obvious with our questions, huh? Well, this one is a bit trickier – at least for me – because, like I said before, Mary and I were never all that close — despite the many centuries we have known each other.

I’m sure she told me her story many times, but for whatever reason I just can’t recall it now. (Hey, I’m an old man, we’re allowed to have selective memory, right?).

Was there ever something romantic between Jesus and Miriam?

Honestly, I don’t know. Even though He did spend a lot of time with her (especially at the end), Jesus never gave us ANY indication that He was nothing but a perfect gentleman. In spite of my personal grievances against our Lord, I still believe He was 100% a man without sin and that, even if He was tempted, He never succumbed.

That being said, there are a lot of people and conspiracy theories to the contrary and I’m sure you can find them if you search a bit online, but don’t expect me to go peddling any.

Was Mary of Magdala a prostitute or the adulteress whom Jesus saved from stoning?

OK, I guess now I DO feel a little sorry for Mary on that account, because she really has gotten her name muddied up over the years.

Here are the FACTS:

  1. The woman you likely know as Mary Magdalene was a person whom Jesus did cast out seven demons from.
  2. She came from the village of Magdala (a city on the southwest coast of the Sea of Galilee).
  3. After Jesus exorcised her demons, Mary followed us around – however, unlike most of those He cured who eventually left our group, Mary continued to stay on and got more involved.

As for Mary’s reputation as a woman of ill repute, I know the stories as well as you. She was associated with ‘the woman in the city who was a sinner’ (Luke: Chapter 7), and even more so, many people still believe that she is the adulteress whom Jesus saved from stoning in my gospel (John: Chapter 8).

In point of fact, Mary is NOT either of those women and there really isn’t any evidence in The Bible to support those associations. If you want to know more about this topic, read an article a friend of mine wrote…

So how did Mary get such a bad rap?

Well, here I must confess that I am partly to blame – along with James and Peter. We were the early leaders of a new religious sect called The Way and it was pretty chaotic after Jesus left us. We did the best we could trying to keep things organized as we spread The Good News and gained more followers, but Mary had her own designs – no, let me correct that statement, she wanted to be our new leader!

Ah, heeeeellll, no — I’m not following some upstart woman! And the rest of the apostles agreed.

But Mary wouldn’t listen. She went off and recruited her own disciples. She even went so far as to write her own Gospel!

What could we do? We had to stop her.

So we came up with some rumors to discredit her. After all, the city of Magdala was a hotbed for prostitution back in our day, so if Mary became guilty by association, well, it just made our job all the easier.

Unfair or not, our plan DID work and Mary was discredited. But look here, the end justifies the means in my book – after all, The Way turned into Christianity and thereby did we spread Jesus’ message to the world.

Do I feel bad about destroying Mary Magdalene’s reputation?

Not really.

Just to set the record straight, I will say a few more GOOD things about Mary to show you that I can be fair and balanced. In fact, Mary was one of the few who stayed around to witness most of the events of Jesus’ last days – especially his passion and crucifixion. She was there at the mock trial, she heard Pontius Pilate agree to the death sentence, and she saw our Lord beaten and humiliated by the soldiers and the crowd.  

Additionally, along with myself and Jesus’ mother, Mary Magdalene stood on Golgotha to try to comfort Jesus while he was dying on that cross – even whilst all the other disciples fled for their own safety.

“The Crucifixion with the Virgin Mary, St John and St Mary Magdalene” by Anthony Van Dyck, c 1619

Furthermore, Mary was actually the first person to witness the resurrection of Jesus and it was she who came back to tell me and Peter about it. In addition, I will admit here and now that Mary was also present when the Holy Spirit descended upon us all at Pentecost.

Given all this evidence, it’s pretty safe to say that Mary was one of the Chosen.

If she just didn’t cause so much trouble, then perhaps things could have gone better for her. But, as you know by now, Mary is not one to keep her opinions to herself. Too bad for her. Oh well.

OK, let’s stop this charade. That’s enough questions from you!

Let’s get back to our reason for being here – He’s going to be very angry with me if I don’t tell you about these prophecies.

I’ve got more revelations to share so pay attention, please.

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Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy, St John the Apostle

A Good Man (20)

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Book I: Chapter 20
June 22

I pouted for a couple days — tinkering around in the garage working on my… project.

As I told you before, I’m currently living in upstate Pennsylvania – in a town called Williamsport to be exact.

Now if you’re wondering what there is to do in Williamsport, let me answer you – not much. I migrated here over fifty years ago because I wanted to live in a secluded town where I wouldn’t be bothered. For the most part, that’s still the case.

 The city (if you can call it that) is located in the northern part of Pennsylvania, a little east of center. When I moved here back in the 1950’s it was still a pretty small town, but since then it has grown to about 30,000 or so – some of that started with an influx of supposedly rehabbing criminals that were shipped from Philly in the last couple decades of the twentieth century and then even more came after the various Covid Health Rezoning and Racial Equity Redistribution Plans that started back in 2021 and 2022. To encourage Williamsport to accept these fine new citizens, the state paid the city a bunch of money for so-called sustainable community projects; it wasn’t a fair exchange. This place used to be a decent country village with respectable people who lived in harmony with police and other first-responders, but that all went to pot when they let the BLM and Antifa agitators take over.

These ‘peaceful’ protesters (as the #FakeNews always called them) were naught but goons too stupid to realize they were being used as pawns to support the higher agenda of The Great Reset. The new regime was never going to give BLM and Antifa the equality they claimed to be fighting for, but most of the protestors didn’t care about that anyway – instead, because they were allowed to do what they loved best (loot, pillage, and spout their madness at all hours of the night), they happily played the part assigned to them – spreading terror as part of the 2020 Election-Steal campaign in order to try to make our people vote against President Trump.

The hard-working, blue-collar people of this area knew Trump wasn’t really responsible for the anarchy and thus we voted in droves to reelect President Trump and his ‘law and order’ policies. Unfortunately, like people in other other swing states, we learned too late that our votes didn’t really matter. President Trump was never going to be re-elected, no matter how many votes he got because a cabal of well-funded powerful organizations from around the world had worked together behind the scenes to decide the matter beforehand.

In PA we witnessed the stolen election first hand. On election day, President Trump was the clear winner by an overwhelming majority – just like he was in Michigan, Georgia, and other swing states. After watching President Trump wipe the floor with Biden on Election Night, I went to bed certain of Trump’s relection. Oh how foolish I was. Like many others I watched in horror as the fine folks in Philly and Harrisburg assured their overlords not to worry about the overwhelming support for Trump in rural communities like Williamsport, and true to their word the cabal and their agents ‘found’ all the mail-in votes and computerized ballot dumps they needed to steal the state of PA for their candidate instead – taking as many days as they needed to change the result in their favor – just like their partners did in other swing states.

And that, my friends, is how you steal an election in the twenty-first century.

Unfortunately they left the ‘peaceful’ protesters to continue to plague us. Worse yet they also defunded the police and other social services. As a result, the Antifa goons have pretty much taken over the city proper and they’ve continued to cause havoc as part of the new socialist government’s agenda to keep the people cowering in fear and begging for martial law to protect them. Williamsport, as it once was, is now a thing of the past – like so many other towns across The New CCP America.

I’d prefer to think of happier times instead.

Hey, did you know that in the late 1800s Williamsport was actually known as The Lumber Capital of the World? Or that Williamsport once had more millionaires per-capita than anywhere in the United States at the time?

I doubt you know any of this or even care. In fact, if you’ve heard of this town at all, it’s likely because it was the birthplace of Little League baseball and it’s the home of the Little League World Series…

I guess I should say it USED to be the home of the LLWS – like so many things Covid cancelled that event (in the name of public safety, of course). There was talk about it trying to make a comeback in 2022, but with youth sports destroyed by the pandemic Health Regulations (especially in uber-socialist states like PA) and with domestic and international air travel so severely limited by vaccine passports and the like, The Little League World Series never really had a chance.

It pains me to remember what once was and what the plandemic’s public health policies stole from us.

Seeing a baseball game in person is one of the things I miss most.

I love baseball and while I never played (the game didn’t even exist when I was in my youth), for whatever reason I could never get enough of watching this pastime. Sure my favorite team is the Phillies, but being that they are three-plus hours away by car, and given all the Covid Health Regulations you have to comply with to see a live game, I don’t have the option anymore.

Prior to Covid, if I wanted to see some live ball, I had a couple options – I used to be able to drive into town and watch the local minor league affiliate of the Phillies called the Williamsport Crosscutters, or I could have gone to any number of local Little League games and see the sport in its purest form.

All of that is gone now – again in the name of public health.

While the government still allowed for professional sports (they were after all the modern day opiate of the people), everything below that level has pretty much become relics of a bygone era. I still remember the time when nobody cared about viruses or ever considered snitching on their neighbor for not wearing a mask. I remember life before mandatory vaccines or Freedom Passes. I even remember the pre-Covid age of neighborhood cookouts and fun. And little league baseball was a big part of that.

Believe it or not, I wasn’t always a crotchedy old man. I even used to volunteer as a coach at the Brandon Little League that played in a local park across the street from my friend Frank Stoppa’s house (yes it’s true – I really did have friends in my life). I enjoyed my time as a little league coach and I was a stalwart at the Brandon Little League for over two decades. Unfortunately, in the late 80’s, I started to feel under-appreciated by some of the parents, and later on I started to get questioned as to why an old geezer like me was so interested in helping out with young boys and girls who were not related to me. Eventually it just wasn’t worth the trouble anymore. (Gee whiz, it’s not like I was recruiting some kid to be my catamite. I simply loved the game – is that such a crime?).

As for my friend Frankie, he was quite a pal. With a shock of black hair ever-filled with Brylcreem, he was a greasy-haired Italian-Pollock who was one of the few people in the world I’ve ever met who truly got it.

It was Frankie who introduced me to my faithful friends Jim and Jack (Reeves and Daniels that is), as well as to such beer classics as PBR, Genesee, and Yuengling. And it was Frankie who also turned me on to country music. Many a night it was that the two of us would put away a case of beer or a few fifths of whiskey listening to Jim Reeves, Conway Twitty, or Hank Williams.

Yes, Frankie understood that life was pretty much pointless unless you could find some way to enjoy it.

He was quite a character – as gregarious as I am quiet – and for over forty years we made quite a team. Unfortunately for me, Frank passed away back in 2009 and things haven’t been the same since.

He was my last real friend. He knew my secrets – and he took them to the grave.  Funny enough, I was there at his funeral mass when his grandson gave what I consider the most fitting eulogy of all time – not only was the talk filled with humorous stories about Frankie’s life, but at the very end, (right there in a Catholic Church mind you), his grandson cracked open a can of Pabst and sent Frankie off with a toast of ‘one for the road!’ I can’t imagine the balls it took for his grandson to stand up in a catholic church and make a toast with a beer can. I heard after the fact that the priest was none too happy about it. 

And yet, I don’t have such a luxury — I’ll never get a eulogy like that because I’m stuck here. Despite the fact that I still enjoy my baseball, and my booze, and my music, I’d gladly give it all away if I could only die like my friend Frankie.

I’m just oh so tired of being alive. Can you understand that? I doubt it.

There’s a section of King Solomon’s Book of Ecclesiastes (Chapter 12) which comes close to what I’m feeling. Let me read it to you,

“…The years approach when you will say, ‘I find no pleasure in them.’ When the sun and the moon and the stars grow dark. When old men rise up at the sound of birds, but all their songs grow faint. When even the grasshopper drags himself along — for desire is no longer stirred. Then shall the dust shall return to the ground it came from, and the spirit to the God who gave it. [But for me] Meaningless! Meaningless! Everything is meaningless!”

If you open your Bible and read that book, you’ll notice that I did NOT add that last section about Life being “meaningless” – Solomon himself wrote those words and he was supposed to be the wisest man who ever lived so if you got a problem, take it up with him. In any case, his words sure as hell apply to me.

But, what more can I do?

I can’t die, and yet I don’t want to keep on living. And so, I am forced to suffer a meaningless existence – unless I can figure out a way to change my fate. Covid couldn’t kill me, neither could the mRNA vaccines that killed so many others. But not to worry, because that’s what my Project is all about.

I’d love to finally tell you about something IMPORTANT – like my Project – but alas, right now I’m supposed to talk about my visions… again.

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Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy, Mary Magdalene, St John the Apostle

1.19 American Idol

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Book I: Chapter 19
June 20 (and a time long past)

Having just witnessed unwelcome memories from nearly 2,000 years ago I was ready for a break. 

“Ha! ‘Surely Mary won’t wait around forever?’ Eh, Peter?” I quipped to myself as I remembered what my friend said and took another sip of my iced tea (yes it was a Long Island).

“Well, it seems we were wrong about that, for hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, right?”

Still on my porch, I snickered to myself with chagrin – for as I pondered the situation in hindsight it seemed that nobody got what they wanted:

  • Lazarus never did get Mary.
  • Jesus never accepted Mary’s advances.
  • I’m still here rotting in this worn out husk of a body.
  • All of our dreams have been dashed.

“Why have you cursed us like this, Lord?” And I threw my glass down on the porch – watching it smash into countless pieces, even as the remaining liquid quickly seeped through the floorboards. Overwhelmed with shame, I cried, “I am worn out calling for help, God. Will my life never end? Even if I end up in the land of gloom and shadow – even still I will go if it means I can only escape this so-called life!”

As if on cue, I noticed the radio was playing yet another one of my favorite songs – the Jim Reeves classic, “Am I that Easy to Forget?”

Guess I could find somebody, too. But I don’t want no one but you. How could you leave without regret? Am I that easy to forget?

I was about to let myself be drawn deeper into the song, when… “We interrupt this broadcast,” came the urgent words of the announcer, “with a special report about the assassination of UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon…”

“NO, not again – what about my Phillies game?”

I stewed as the Special Report was delivered — no less than thirty minutes of rigmarole about how, as yet, no one knew who had assassinated Ki-Moon (although I had a pretty good idea); that an emergency meeting of the UN had already taken place; and that William Henry Bates III (Bingo!) had already been elected as interim Secretary General.

After this, there was a short audio clip from Bates’ acceptance speech in which the beloved philanthropist explained that while his first inclination was to advise he was not worthy of such an honor, in fact he agreed to accept the nomination – at least on a short term basis – because he realized that the world needed him, and therefore he promised to do his best to lead the planet to prosperity.

Bates took the opportunity to remind people that he’d continue to work hard to help himself and others like him overcome their White Privilege disease, and as proof of his commitment to promoting BLM and Critical Race Theory goals he announced he was changing his name to the Muslim-inspired moniker Dr. Ghaz ‘al Ridwan Ma’bus. (Just like Teri had warned Alan about – although Teri missed the part about Bates taking on the “Dr.” title – apparently stealing a page from the puppet president Joe Biden’s wife’s playbook on how to give yourself fake credentials). Next this new Dr. Ma’bus explained how he would use his UN platform to protect the world from Climate Change disasters in the hopes that building a more sustainable world would eventually put an end to the never-ending cycle of pandemics that had plagued our planet since 2019.

Bates nee Ma’bus’ message was one of hope and freedom for all people in the world and he the more he talked the more he promoted himself as the People’s Savior.

Now as odd as this might sound, during the initial newscast I was quite dour – especially when Dr. Ma’bus was talking about the UN Agenda 2030 propaganda pawns like BLM, CRT, and Covid, and about his silly new name. Yet the more the Bates/Ma’bus audio clip was playing, the more I found myself getting inspired (just a bit) by Bill’s passion when he proclaimed himself to be our savior as Ghaz al’ Ridwan Ma’bus. It was a contagious sensation that I could not shake and soon enough a smile began to form beneath the scraggly curls of my beard the more I listened to Ma’bus smooth voice.

His voice beckoned me.

And then, as if the shackles of two thousand years of lethargy were suddenly released, I jumped up and looked to the Heavens. “Could this really be The Time?” I was actually hopeful. And in spite of myself, I began to praise, “When my soul is downcast within me, I will remember you. O Lord, have you returned to us in the person of the Muslim Savior Ghaz ‘al Ridwan Ma’bus?”

Meanwhile, Dr. Ma’bus continued to talk – encouraging the world to unite in brotherly love across every race and religion — and my Hope sprang even higher!

“Lord, are you him?” I desperately clutched my radio, hanging on the savior’s next words.

But then it happened, for as the applause from the crowd became so overwhelming, Ma’bus himself could no longer be heard.

“Noooooooo!” I collapsed in despair. “Don’t desert me again!”

Yet, my protests were to no avail. And when the regular newsman’s voice came back over the speaker, my newfound inspiration evaporated; once more I felt as if I was nothing more than a worthless sinner who had yet again been forgotten and abandoned.

Pity?

I don’t want your pity.

You can stuff your sorries in a sack, Mister!!

If there were any last vestiges of hope, I quickly beat them down. 

But then a small, still voice inside me seemed to say…

“John, John, why do you forsake me?”

Yet I refused to listen. Instead  simply reached towards my radio, and clicked the dial.

A lone tear trickled down my cheek, as I resolved to go inside and get into bed – to put an end to another miserable day.

“As for me, it’s always the same – I am scorned and disgraced. Shame has broken my heart and left me helpless. Why do You forsake me so?”

And trudging along the porch, “Let the world take care of itself. Or let Bates’ Ma’bus persona do it. He doesn’t need me. You don’t need me, Lord. Nobody needs ME anymore.”

And with that, I went inside and closed the door – leaving even my Phillies to fend for themselves.

(Bummer, huh?)

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Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy, Mary Magdalene

1.17 The Great Harvest

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Book I: Chapter 17
June 17

Let’s just say I wasn’t successful in drinking myself into oblivion to end my visions.

God learned how to overcome my little tricks a long time ago.

But don’t think He got the last laugh. 

The fact is that, visions or no visions, my hot tub and a few bottles of Beam are always a big help – let’s just say they help to ‘clear up’ the revelations a bit. 

Ahhh. Bring on the prophecies – I’m ready for ’em! I may not remember them, but who care, right?

Now where were we?

Oh that’s right – Miriam.

OK, so my vision continued as I watched Miriam break away from Gabriel, “But, why must people a thousand generations or more removed from Adam still have to suffer for his sin? Is God such a begrudging lord?”

(Sing it, Sister! Finally she says something intelligent.)

“Miriam, why must we debate this so often?” Gabriel replied. “You know the difference — the sacrifice of The Christ provided for the ultimate forgiveness of all men’s sins. HOWEVER, the Lord has not taken away Free Will. And despite forgiveness, there will always be consequences for sin.” And before Miriam could interrupt, Gabriel spoke on, “This is not to say that ONLY 144,000 will enter The Kingdom and that the others will be barred forever, just that only those few will be raptured without pain; while the rest will be disciplined for their transgressions. It is a discipline given out of love, in an effort to teach the wayward about the Righteous Path.”

“Descent of Christ through Purgatory” by Andrea da Firenze

(I’ve heard the whole ‘Purgatory’ argument before. In the past I used to buy in to it, now I call it hogwash).

“But even with Purgatory as an option, not everyone will make it.” Miriam stated. “Because not all will repent and accept, will they?”

“Ah, even I do not know the answer to that. Yet understand that The Story of Redemption goes beyond just this planet. For our God is the Lord of ALL the Universe — every universe. And whilst each universe may have differences, in the end the Lord’s goal is the same…

“To glory in the creation of ever more souls made Holy as a result of Free Will – for whenever a soul freely chooses to worship The Lord, all of Heaven rejoices!”

(OK, I realize this is pretty deep. If you understand, great, if not, just don’t worry about it for now. After all, when are YOU going to be travelling to another universe? Just worry about yourself, cupcake, that’s hard enough).

“And now the Time of Truth has come for Earth.” Miriam concluded.

“This is the day the lord has made, let us be glad and rejoice!” Gabriel praised. “Indeed, millennia ago, your world was sown and cared for. When The Christ came, he began the process of pruning. And now, The Earth is finally ready – for only with the pains of harvest can the crops finally be served – which is their true purpose. Such is the case for souls everywhere – none can reach The Lord without The Great Harvest.”

“The Triumph of the Lamb” by Matthias Gerung

“And this happens on every world?” Miriam asked.

“Not every world goes through the same life cycle. Oh, be certain that Lucifer and his minions are active in every location, however not always with the same results. Some worlds never know the stain of Original Sin – for the souls there rejected Lucifer from the onset – when it was the easiest to resist – and thus they have been in Harmony with God for all of their existence. Oh how these worlds shine! Yet, just the same, there are other worlds in which Lucifer’s allure was apparently irresistible, and upon those locales, nearly all of the souls have been lost. These are horror filled, forsaken places…“ Here the angel paused.

Miriam too shuddered at the thought of such hell-worlds.

Eventually Gabriel found his voice again, “And yet, it is worlds like your Earth that The Lord takes the most pleasure in — for the balance of power between Good and Evil is ever changing, and the final outcome is uncertain – which makes the Battle here all the more important.” And fixing his gaze ominously upon Miriam, “Do not underestimate the significance of what is happening here. And, do not underestimate the part that YOU are playing. The Heavenly Host needs YOU. Succeed in your mission — help Mankind make the right choice.”

“But how? I don’t have the worldly prestige to influence so many, and time is running out.”

“Commit to the Lord whatever you do and your plans will succeed, Miriam.” The angel reminded. “Don’t allow The Beast to reveal himself to the world – for if he gets the opportunity to glorify himself on the world stage, his allure will be nearly irresistible, and I fear that your Earth may be lost forever. If that happens, then you won’t be complaining about man-made pandemics or vaccine deaths or even about only 144,000 being saved – instead we’ll be lucky to even harvest 4,000.“

“Oh my — save us, Lord!” Miriam clutched her Book of Life, sheltering the names inside. “But, Gabriel, even if we do stop The Beast, what will it mean in the grand scheme of things – beyond just our world?”

“In the end, what happens on this planet will mimic The Ultimate Story of Redemption only if Man realizes the error of his ways and freely chooses Life with God — for only then will you be able to reconnect with your true purpose in life – to serve God. Whether they know it or not, it is this form Redemption that ALL of Creation is seeking – even…The Dark One himself.”

“Satan.”

(Yes, there IS a Force of Darkness. Call him ‘the devil,’ or ‘Lucifer,’ or whatever you want, but He does exist. If you don’t believe me, then it’s YOU who are the fool).

“Indeed. On a grand scale, Mankind’s tale is a microcosm of Lucifer’s – for the end goal of the Ultimate Revelation is not the destruction of man, and especially NOT of Lucifer, but instead, The Lord seeks to purge Lucifer’s evil nature away in the hopes that he will repent of his sins and eventually reunite with God Himself. For only when such an event occurs can Creation truly be made whole again…Yet, whether or when this will happen, who can say?”

“Oh, but this all goes so far beyond me.” Miriam lamented. “What do my efforts really matter?”

“Can you fathom the mysteries of God? You are a part of Creation. A member of the Great Play. Your part IS critical.”

“What if I can’t fulfill my duty?” Miriam cried.

“What if you never try?” Gabriel softened his tone again. “When you come to the end of all the Light you have, Faith is knowing that when you take the next step either you’ll land on something solid or else you’ll learn how to fly.”

(He did NOT just make that up. I’ve heard that quote before – I think it was coined by a fellow named Edward Teller).

“For you, O God, tested us.” Miriam prayed. “You refined us like silver. But you brought us to a place of abundance.” And yet, still she hesitated. (Typical Miriam).

At last the Angel could take it no more. And so, rising up to his full height, he unveiled his awesome wings and roared, “Enough! Now is the time. I command you — Fly, Miriam, FLY!” Gabriel’s words thundered so loud that even I was taken aback by the they held.

(Thankfully my vision ended on that note and I was given a measure of peace, so I turned up the bubbles on my hot tub and sank deeper into the steam. Ah, Heaven – the only kind I’ve ever known and guess what, it ain’t half bad. Hey, you gotta take what you can get in life, right?)

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Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy

1.15 The Grandmaster

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Book I: Chapter 15
June 12

My vision of Benedict and his conspirators continued. After the professor’s revelation about The Seven Seals, all three of them turned inward — examining their thoughts.

Antonio Abbracciavento seemed to realize that the subject that he had devoted his life to was unfolding before his very eyes – although now it appeared he didn’t have the stomach for it.

Meanwhile Teri seemed to be relishing every moment. And as for Benedict, well it was obvious that he still had a major part to play before he could finally retire to that much desired rest, (but I couldn’t help thinking of the proverb: He who digs a hole, falls into his own pit).

Eventually Antonio spoke further about the terrible implications of the Seven Seals (And for the most part, he explained my work quite well). Yet, it was all he could do to hold himself together and he noticeably shook during his monologue.

For his part Benedict listened stoically, detaching himself from the grim horrors that the professor described. Once Antonio finished, The Pope added his thoughts, “Dreadful? Yes. Necessary? Absolutely. After all, we must remember — the sheep were made to be shorn. It is their role in The Great Play.”

“All things work together for The Good.” Antonio patted his daughter’s hand as if to console her, yet I knew he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.   

“You are not responsible for this, Antonio.” Benedict advised. “Just because you have the foreknowledge of the crime doesn’t make you guilty of it.” The oldster was about to reply, but got tongue-tied instead and the Pope sensed his fear, “Sharing what you know with the world will NOT stop the events from happening. Do not even think of such a foolish act.”

Teri looked at her father in horror. “Papa! You were not contemplating this were you?”

Again, Antonio stuttered – further convicting himself.

(Fool. Don’t you realize that God has a plan and things will happen in His time and His time alone.

We are all just the pawns of prophecy – whether we act or not.  

That’s why I don’t care anymore – after all, it doesn’t matter what Antonio, me, or any of us do — He already knows how it will all turn out!)

“Get control of yourself, Abbracciavento.” The Pope grated. “You’d be a fool to reveal such knowledge to the world. No one would believe you. More importantly, The Wheel of Time WILL turn and December 21st will arrive regardless of what you do.”

“Father will do no such thing.” Teri quickly changed the subject. “And speaking of December 21st, wouldn’t you like to hear about Mr. Bates?”

“The rascal is proving to be quite a genius, eh?” Pope Benedict said.

“Indeed. He is becoming a power by literally buying the world.”

“Everybody wants the Identichip, eh?”

“Did you know many nations have stopped accepting trade unless they are paid in E-Yuans through the Identichip? Nobody has confidence in the financial backing of ANY country – except the Bates Foundation blockchain system administered from the World Economic Forum. That’s why people are so desperate to be implanted with an IdentiChip and why UN is recommending it. Even Putin is on board – although I’m sure there’s a back door deal or two in play.”

“So, Mr. Bates has the world by the balls and now the UN wants to sell our souls back to him?” Benedict summarized. “And yet I say — what the wicked dread will overtake them. Yet so be it, friends – for let’s not lose sight of the prize.”

“The Triumph of Christ” by Gustave Dore

Your Grace, what will happen now?” Antonio asked.

“I would bet The Brotherhood is going to have Ban Ki-Moon removed – soon.” The pope was quick to reply. 

“Assassination of The UN Secretary General?” Antonio gasped.

“Father, don’t interrupt.” Teri hushed him.

“That would be the next logical move.” The Pope explained, making the motion to wash his hands of the matter. “And there’s not much we can do to stop it – as I said, the Wheel of Time will move forward of its own accord. Once Ki-Moon is out of the way, the picture becomes much clearer for our adversary.”

“Bill Bates will be elevated to power – just in time for the Great Ceremony.” Teri smiled.

“Ah, my children,” The professor interrupted. “I’m afraid you are mistaken. For Mr. Bates has already declined such a position. Even if he wanted it, surely Putin and Xi would block such a move – those two are always conspiring.”

“Bill Bates as Secretary General is inevitable.” Benedict re-affirmed. “Yet’s that only a minor stepping stone for him. I’m surprised you didn’t see this, Antonio — the world is in turmoil and it has been for over a decade. We need ONE person to step up and draw us together under the banner of peace and safety. The planet is begging for a leader who can help us escape these never ending pandemics and find sustainable solutions to the specter of climate change. Who else could that person be but William Henry Bates III? Sure he makes a pretense of resisting, but in reality only because his time has not yet come. He will accept the post when it is laid at his feet – when the world begs him to take over – and with your pawns Putin, Xi, and that puppet-master Obama leading the way.”

“Father, I’ve already told you The Brotherhood has been pumping The Bates Foundation’s agenda up throughout Africa.” Teri reminded. “They’re using the BLM goons to build anti-Asian sentiment against Ki-Moon among the more radical factions of Europe so he won’t be around much longer. The World Health Organization, CDC, and political hacks like Dr. Flipflop have destroyed people’s businesses and their spirits with never-ending lockdowns against their made-up pandemic variants. Ninety-nine percent of the world is now on universal basic income and nobody can work, travel, or even buy groceries without their Freedom Passes – and that’s assuming they have enough social credits to unlock their account. The public is crying for a savior! Why it’s all going according to plan and you know this already. Why are you being so difficult?

(I would have known that too — had I been to any of the recent Brotherhood meeting).

“But, how does that help our cause?” Antonio asked. “I thought we were trying to destroy Mr. Bates, not give him even more power.”

“Have you ever played Karpov?” Benedict asked.

 “In chess?” Antonio returned the question. “Are you asking if I have played the Grandmaster Anatoly Karpov?”

“Yes.”

“Why would Karpov waste his time with me? I’m no master.”

“I have played Karpov – once.” Benedict reminisced. “1984. You may not know this but I actually did hold Master rank during my youth– although it was unofficial, given my religious position. In any case, the Grandmaster taught me quite a lesson…

“For Karpov’s intentions became understandable to his opponents only when salvation was no longer possible.

“That is what happened to me too.” Benedict continued. “Karpov drew me in, allowed me to rise to a position of power, and then ruthlessly crucified me. Once he decided to make his move, his drive to mate was inevitable and certain. Mind you, at the very point when I felt that I was on the verge of setting up my mate of him — when I felt most secure and actually stole a breath! — the very next instant, he turned the tables on me, and his every successive move led to victory. He was inexorable.”

“And that is what we shall do to Bill Bates, father.” Teri giggled.

“Check and mate.” Antonio agreed.

“Indeed.” Benedict smiled. “We’ll give Mr. Bates what he wants – we’ll give him the world. For that is HIS destiny. But in the end, I’ll take it back – for that is MY destiny.”

(I’ve got to say, although I’m done with The Commission, this vision WAS interesting. Hey, if The End of Days really are coming, then that’s fine by me – perhaps that will finally stop the insanity!)

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Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy

The Best Laid Plans (14)

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Book I: Chapter 14
June 12

Another day, another vision. I usually don’t get pummeled like this unless something big is afoot. This is not a good sign.

The smell of Boswellian incense embraced Pope Benedict’s robes as he tarried back to his private quarters.

(No, I don’t have a sense of smell in my visions, hold on and you’ll see how I knew this fact).

<Ah-choo!> Benedict sneezed again. (Understand now?)

“Hurensohn!” Benedict swore in his native dialect, adjusting his mask and leaning on his cane for support. “Why do we use such strong ash? Not even these masks can filter it out. ” And he pulled down his mask and rubbed hard at his nose with a handkerchief. “Ach, Father, forgive me, but if Cardinal Renoit waves his censor in my direction next time, I’ll excommunicate the toifel!”

Later that evening, after Benedict was able to shower, I watched as he once more engaged with some fellow conspirators. This time his visitors were not two men who looked like a pair of Hitler’s Aryan army, but instead a young woman and an older gentleman. Interestingly enough, none of them were wearing masks or social distancing – but then again the elites never follow their own rules do they?

In any event, the woman was a gorgeous brunette whose silky hair covered her face yet could not obscure her beauty. Although I couldn’t tell for sure, I was guessing that this was none other than Ms. Teri Abbracciavento.

Interestingly enough, the woman bore a striking resemblance to the older man who sat beside her. The scholarly type, he looked like the classic, European university professor – bushy grey eyebrows, a bulbous Italian nose, brill creamed grey hair, and one of those tweed suits with patched elbows that made him a living cliche.  

 I noticed Benedict snickering to himself, and I wondered if he was amused at the same thing I was – (assuming this really was Teri A.)…

Did her father know what his daughter had been up to lately?

For his part, the pope scratched his cat Deter behind the ears and quipped, “Blessed is the man whose sin the lord does not count against him. So how is death treating you, Antonio?”

“Pah, Death is quite inconvenient,” The oldster replied.  “Were you aware that I can’t get a IdentiChip? Apparently my fingerprints prove I’m dead. How am I supposed to buy anything?”

“Father, I told you that you’d have nothing to worry about.” The woman reached over to pat his hand. “Your death was necessary. We’ve already discussed this. You can still use your silver. Meanwhile, Benedict’s people will see to all your needs – just as they have always done. Correct?”

“Teri is correct.” Benedict agreed (Bingo! It is Teri A. I was right – again). “You have no need to worry, Antonio. Your mind is too valuable to have you waste it on such trifles. Silver and gold still work but if you really want an IdentiChip, we’ll get you one.”

“I should hope so.” Antonio Abbracciavento nodded. “Bitcoin still scares me, there’s nothing backing it. I’d much rather have the IdentiChip Mr. Bates guarantees with the E-Yuans that are in turn backed up by China’s massive gold reserves.”

The pope smiled knowingly to himself, “China’s gold reserves may not be as big as–”

“Father sometimes invents things to worry about.” Teri interrupted. “If his mind is not always at work, he gets frustrated, so he is always thinking of new conspiracies.”

“Figlia mine, I do no such—“ Antonio began.

“In any case,” Benedict glanced down at his watch. “I’ve read your briefing about Lazarus. What is his current status?”

(Hmmm. So Joe was involved with Alan’s recent troubles?)

Teri smiled slyly, “Ah yes, Alan was a nice assignment. Although I didn’t get to consumma-” yet here she glanced at her father. “Well, the important thing is that we have him secured.”

Staring off into space, a pondered, “I wonder, does he suspect anything about me?” And all the while Deter nudged against him, demanding more caresses. 

“No, he believes you to still be as innocent as a baby goat.” Teri replied.

“Two millennia is a long time to live for anyone. I’m sure that Bruder Lazarus will thank us for helping him get to the afterlife.”

(Joe, if I thought you could really end our lives, I’d be the first one at your door. But, you can’t do it. So whatever you are planning, it won’t work).

“So long as I get his immortal seed first.”  Teri reminded.

“Putta!” Antonio could stand it no more. “Enough of such talk before I smack you!”

“I am what I am.” Teri said defiantly to her father. “Of all people, YOU should know that much.”

“My friends.” Benedict played peace maker. “Let’s keep our eye on the prize. Antonio, the time is near. The End Game is brewing and the first check is about to occur. What is the latest from The Prophets?”

“I have read the transcripts and viewed their video streams numerous times. It’s clear that Elijah and Enoch continue to deteriorate and it’s a sad sight to see such great men destroyed — as if History is being reversed.”

“The Prisoners Of Chillon” By Ferdinand Victor Eugene Delacroix

(Hmm, so this Antonio is in league with the mystery man who captured the prophets? Is Joe that man? If so, I didn’t see that twist coming!)

“I prefer to say corrected.” Benedict smiled.

“Eh?” Antonio was confused (and me as well). “Are you talking about an Orwellian history revision? But I thought the United Nations was already doing that?”

The pope laughed, “I didn’t say History was being revised, Antonio. I saw it was being corrected. There’s a difference. Elijah and Enoch were certainly extraordinary men; but, they’ve had their time. They were taken up body and soul to heaven and then preserved for this very mission. Unfortunately it’s no longer needed – thus the correction. As for the prophets, they knew what they were getting into – nothing in His Universe is free and even WE will have to earn our fare before this ride is over.”

“Well, I should hope my work has been enough to stamp my ticket into the kingdom.” The professor grumbled. “And my daughter’s as well.”

“We shall see. But, who knows what tomorrow may bring.” Benedict shrugged. “In any case, please continue. Has there been a new prophecy?”

“Hmm. Well, it seems…”

“Yes?” Benedict pressed, hungry for news.

The color drained from Antonio’s face, “The Seven Seals will soon… be broken.”

“And so it continues.” Benedict nodded, although he too shuddered at the teacher’s words. “There is no going back now.”

(Actually this news IS a big deal. Trust me or check out this video and see for yourself…)

(This was the first vision in quite some time that had my attention – I wonder what’s gonna happen next?)

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Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy, Mary Magdalene

The Book of Life (13)

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Book I: Chapter 13
June 11

<Ting-ting-ttaling, Ting-ting-ttaling>

Bells from afar softly sounded, signaling the mid-day meal. 

(Gee whiz, why did you sidetrack me like that with all those questions in the last chapter? Now where were we? Oh yeah, Miriam was whining again about how I never help her…)

The Repentant Mary Magdalene, by Domenico Fetti

As I refocused on my vision, I saw Miriam, her eyes closed, masked up, and hands in her lap, “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock, and my Redeemer.” Miriam opened her eyes. Even still, she did not venture out of for lunch. (She’s probably fasting — that’s Saint Miriam for you).

She moved her chair closer towards her desk. Although a simple secretary table, her desk was hand-carved from chapa wood and like most of the articles in this Tibetan palace it was ornately worked – in this case, the legs were covered with scroll-work and the desk panel itself had a border of miscellaneous Buddhist symbols outside the main writing area.  Few items sat atop Miriam’s workstation – a small stack of airmail stationary, a single pen, and one large leather-bound book.

It was this last item that Miriam now reached for, pulling the heavy tome towards her. Once positioned, she reached a hand up to her neck and then from inside her pale green robe she withdrew a chain that held a tiny key. Taking the chain from around her neck, she inserted the key into the lock that held fast the book. With a soft <click> the massive tome gave up its security and Miriam was free to open it as she pleased.

“As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God.” She said as she fearfully opened the book.  Then quickly she sought to find her bookmark — which was in the last quarter of this omnibus — yet, upon locating it, I saw the color drain from the portion of her face that was visible above her mask, for the page she turned to was blank. (I could have told you that, Miriam). Knowing that all the pages after it would also be blank, Miriam steeled herself as she flipped backwards to an earlier page.

“Blank, as well.” She gasped, looking as if a knife stabbed her heart. (Again with the dramatics).

The tears returning, Miriam unconsciously fiddled with her mask (like so many other mask wearing fools, she didn’t realize that by touching her mask she was contaminating it and defeating the entire purpose of wearing it, but nobody listens to real science anymore and like so many others I knew Miriam always hated thinking for herself so she’d just go on wearing that mask and believing she was doing her part to ‘fight the (never-ending) pandemic. #Sheep).

Meanwhile, the woman I hated so much then continued to slowly leaf backwards through the pages of her book…

Miriam went back three full pages from her previous mark until she finally found names again.

“And so, the number is now down to 182,107.” She sobbed – creating an absolute mess of her mask to the point that she got so disgusted with it she ripped it off her face. And then, as a fountain of anger continued to swell within her, “Why, Lord — why must it only be 144,000? How can you do nothing and allow so many to be lost? Don’t you care? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble? Arise, O Lord! Lift up your hand, O God. Do not forget the helpless!”

(Now, I have told Miriam for centuries that God is no longer listening to us and that He doesn’t care. I mean, seriously, what God would just sit back and allow humanity to become digitized cattle herded by the technocratic overlords of The Great Reset in which the common man is doomed to a future in which we are naught but IoB cogs in a 5G-matrix? And besides that, I’ve also told Miriam that there can only be 144,000 anyway! I know Gabriel has told her the same thing time and again. But Miriam doesn’t listen. Ha – just like any other woman!)

After a short time, Miriam gave up, knowing full well that nothing she could do would change a future that was already predetermined.

And so, closing the book for another day, Miriam grabbed another mask and sighed, “The crucible for silver and gold, but the Lord tests the heart. As always, I will be still and know that He is God.”

Once more she locked up her book, and then moved it back to its place on her desk. After which she arose, fiddled with her new mask (thus contaminating this one too!), and then readied herself for midday prayers with the rest of the palace.

(And there my vision ended. Once again I learned nothing new – another waste of my time).

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Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy, St John the Apostle

The End is Not Near (12)

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Book 1: Chapter 12
June 11

Now as you know, my gospel wasn’t the only book I wrote. I was also the author of numerous others — including The Epistles of John and the Book of Revelation. In fact, I actually wrote quite a few other books over the past two thousand years (under different pen names of course), but most of those are tomes that I now want to forget.

What’s that?

You heard a rumor that I didn’t actually write The Book of Revelation?

I know that rumor. It’s a crock. Here’s an article all about it – save it for later because I don’t have time to get into all that now. 

For now let me continue filling you in on some more of the trials and tribulations of my looooooong life. 

You say you’ve heard enough? 

Well too bad. You should know once you get an old man talking about the past you can’t get him to shut up so you’re just gonna have to bear with me – or skip ahead to the next chapter. You’re choice, champ. 

Now where was I?

Oh yeah – I was talking about how Jesus made all these grandiose claims about returning for his Second Coming and doing it quickly.

So what the heck happened? Did he just forget? You got questions? I got a LOT more!

You may have heard that I was once known as “the disciple whom Jesus loved.” Yet that’s a moniker I despise now. Why?

Because Jesus died nearly two thousand years ago and I can’t understand how I could be so beloved to him and yet still be left here to rot.

Alas, all this thinking is making me tired.

Where’s my bible?

What, you think because I drink and cuss that I don’t read the Good Book anymore? Sorry to disappoint you there, Sport. I’d wager my knowledge vs. yours any day. 

Have you ever read the Book of Job? 

If you’re not familiar with this classic, here’s a quick vid to give you a taste…

Ok so that video was a bit tongue in cheek but trust me, it ain’t far off the truth.

The fact is that life for Job sucked. And so it is for me now.

Let me sum it up for you with a few verses from Job, Chapter 3: 20-26…

“Why is light given to those in misery, And life to the bitter of soul, To those who long for death that does not come, Who search for it more than for hidden treasure…? For…my groans pour out like water…What I fear has come upon me…I have no peace, no quietness, no rest, but only turmoil.”

Whenever I read those verses, bitter tears trickle down my cheeks – for I know that my dreams of death will elude me today once again – as they have for the last two thousand years.

For I am a man without hope — all my dreams ended the day He made me immortal.

As is my wont at times like this, I can’t help but engage in a bit of morbid self-pity. So I flipped the pages of my bible to my own gospel, and read from John, Chapter 21: 22,

“…And Jesus answered, ‘If I want [John] to remain alive until I return what is that to you?’”

Now let’s be clear on something here, when I wrote that verse, I had no idea that Jesus had already made me immortal. Yet the rumor was out there by the time my gospel first appeared on the scene and the stubborn legend only grew over time.

As you may know, other books have since been written about the subject too – even after I (or at least my original identity) had long since been lost to history.

Are you familiar with what The Book of Mormon said in Chapter 28: 4-7?

Or what about The Doctrine and Covenants, Section 7: 1-3?

As you can see when you read these verses, both of these texts support my immortality myth. And yet, as I think about the authors who wrote those lines I can’t help but wonder…

“So Jesus read my mind, eh? And these writers think I actually told him that it was my desire that I may live forever, huh? How could those charlatans know what I really said or felt? It’s not true.”

OK, to be honest, I’m not really sure anymore what I said or did two thousand years ago, but at least I don’t remember it quite like that.

I just wanted to live until Jesus returned. I mean is that really so bad? 

Let’s not forget something – Jesus was giving us all the impression that his Second Coming would be happening pretty quickly, so you can imagine that I would want to be alive to see that big event, right?

You see what I mean? He specifically said “I am coming soon” and he said it directly to me! How could I not believe him?

I thought he’d be back in a few months, maybe a year. Certainly no more than 5-10 years. But definitely NOT two-freaking-thousand years!

Believe me, there is no way I would have asked to be cursed with immortality!

Who would be so stupid?

It’s terrible.

Yet immortality is my fate now – as it had been then.

As for the rest of my story, if you must know, after Jesus left us, my brother James, Simon Peter, myself, and a few others worked hard in the Judean region for about a decade or so – trying to establish a new branch of Judaism we called “The Way.”

Eventually our sect would classify itself as the new religion of Christianity but back them my friends and I never intended to start a new religion – we simply wanted to perfect our Jewish faith.

For I was born a Jew and I had intended to die as one.

The problem for myself and the rest of Jesus’s Jewish followers was that, unlike most Jews, we believed (back then at least) that Jesus was our long-promised Messiah and that the End of the World was close at hand – mainly because that’s what Jesus told us to believe!

Unfortunately for us, The End never arrived and Jesus himself never came back.

Worse yet, me and my friends had soon caused such a stir in Jerusalem that the Jewish leader at the time — Herod Agrippa – began to persecute us to such an extent that we had no choice but to scatter to the four winds.

I left home and travelled throughout Asia Minor – still continuing to preach Jesus’ apocalyptic message. Eventually I ended up in Rome, but the authorities there didn’t take too kindly to the “End of the World is Nigh” fodder that Peter, Paul, and I were spreading, and over time we were all arrested. They murdered Peter and Paul, and I was supposed to be executed in Rome too.

One day they plunged me into a vat of burning oil, right there in the Coliseum. Does this look like fun to you?

SAINT JOHN THE EVANGELIST IN A VAT OF BOILING OIL by BENVENUTO DI GIOVANNI

Too bad for the Romans because I didn’t suffer a scratch and on top of that two things happened:

  1. I knew that Jesus really did make me immortal;
  2. The entire crowd at the Coliseum converted to Christianity!

At the time, I thought the last laugh was on Emperor Domitian, but soon enough, I realized the joke was on me.

After the failed execution, Domitian had me banished to the Island of Patmos – a tiny, middle-of-nowhere locale that drove me out of my mind.

With nothing to do but starve, it was on Patmos that I wrote The Book of Revelations. I told myself the book was an effort to stay in touch with the seven churches of Asia who were the most promising centers of our faith at the time and that my book would help inspire them to keep alert for Jesus’ Second Coming – which I foolishly believed was still imminent. 

Look – I get it – The Book of Revelation is out there – waaaaay out there.

But the fact is that I was going out of my mind on Patmos – until I discovered a certain plant on the island. See, what you may not know is that I penned Revelation after discovering the island’s supply of coca leaves. With a lot of time on my hands and nothing to do I became  rather addicted to the mind-altering effects of the coca — this may explain the book’s hallucinogenic undertones.

“Oh to have a few coca leaves with me now.” I sighed. Yet I knew that drugs were not a true escape – I’ve already tried them all, without success.

Two thousand years.

A host of identities.

And yet I’m still here. 

Not even Covid could kill me – but then again Covid really didn’t kill anyone did it? (Oops, did I say that part aloud? Oh well).

The truth is that the original Apostle John did not die.

Oh, I had a tomb as you can see here. It’s located in Ephesus and have a beautiful plaque. You should visit sometime. Just know that the body there is not mine.

The fact is that, after Patmos, I simply disappeared from society as “John the Apostle” and became an assortment of different characters.

In the beginning, I thought I was the only one who was immortal, eventually Lazarus and Mary of Magdala found me.

And that’s when my life got  a LOT more difficult…

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Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy, St John the Apostle

Immortality — Ugh (11)

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Book I: Chapter 11
June 11

OK, out with it – let’s hear your questions. I can tell that you won’t let me move on with my tale unless I start answering some of your nagging questions so let’s get it over with. 

Am I immortal?

Yes. Alan, Miriam, and I are all immortal – we have been since He made us that way – nearly two thousand years ago. It’s a bitch. Trust me.

Take today for instance – here I am just sitting in my bed trying to get some sleep and shake this drunken haze. Yet I can’t get any peace because He keeps sending me more revelations. Enough already!

Being immortal is just not all it’s cracked up to be.

I know Alan and Miriam may feel different, but what do they know?

Oh sure, there was a time when I had a different opinion, but those days were long gone — two thousand years on this planet will do that to a guy.

Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag, I suppose I’ll have to tell you a few more things to keep you from bombarding me with questions…

Here’s a few more tidbits about my life – take them for what you will.

Obviously I haven’t always lived in upstate Pennsylvania; I was actually born half a world away and some two millennia past. And although I’m a persona unknown to most of the world now, long ago I was actually rather famous. Let’s see how quickly you can figure it out…

My father’s name was Zebedee and my mom was Mary Salome. My family was Jewish and originally lived in the Bethsaida region around the Lake of Gennesaret in what is now modern day Israel.

My mother was actually a sister of Mary, the mother of Jesus of Nazareth – yes, that means I was Jesus’s cousin.

I also had a rather famous brother too – a man who later became known as Saint James The Greater. I’m kinda proud of my older brother so obviously I have to show you a picture of him too.

Click to learn more about my brother

To say James and I were close is an understatement – back in the day we tore it up and were known by all as The Sons of Thunder. Sure we got into a bit of trouble, but it was all in good fun. 

Meanwhile, my dad had a fishing business that James and I helped him with it. The business was profitable enough to allow me to afford my own house and it even gave me a bit of status (I was a personal friend of the Jewish high priest at the time – hey, if you give anyone enough money, they’ll be your friend, right?).   

Now Jesus and I we also cousins of another famous preacher – the legendary Jewish apocalyptist known as John The Baptist.

The Baptizer was the first great speaker I had ever met and I actually found myself captivated by all his talk about how “the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand” and what it meant for me and my fellow Jews.

(I wouldn’t fall for all that talk now, mind you, but back then it sounded rather good).

In any case, at the time Jesus and I were both looking for something meaningful to do with our lives (fishing just wasn’t exciting enough) so we decided to follow The Baptizer around for awhile.

Eventually Jesus became a pretty hardcore apocalyptic teacher himself and he too began evangelizing. Since I was closer to Jesus, I left The Baptizer’s group and followed Jesus around for a bit. But soon enough Jesus’s group ran out of money and reality set in, so we had to give it up — I went back home to my boring life in the fishing business, while Jesus wandered off into the desert to find himself.

I honestly thought that was the end of my time as a disciple (of anybody) and I was happy just living the life of a village fisherman. However, about a year later, Jesus came back home – and he was now a changed man.

Jesus claimed he’d a revelation that he was the Son of God!

Perhaps just as importantly, he also had a new plan for his evangelical work: expansion via recruitment.

He asked me and my brother James to join him and leave our fishing business to instead become “Fishers of Men.”

We took the bait and helped Jesus find more recruits. It was a wild success – we travelled around like rock stars for awhile and after that I was pretty much by Jesus’ side from there on out – until Jesus was crucified that is!

As you can imagine Jesus’s death at the hands of his jealous adversaries was quite an ordeal – events certainly didn’t work out as I thought they were going to when Jesus first roped me into the experience and when he was murdered so unexpectedly it left myself and the other disciples in a bit of shock. We had no idea what to do next and most of us were just trying to lay low for awhile in order to save our own skins. 

Thankfully Jesus proved he was the Son of God when he rose from the dead just three days after his crucifixion and that, as I’m sure you can imagine, was rather inspiring.

On fire for his message, I took it upon myself to continue his Christ’s mission. In fact, I later wrote about my time with Jesus in a book called The Gospel of John. Watch it today on Amazon Prime (everybody has that now, right?)

Looking back now I regret the decision to get caught up with Jesus — it was all just a crazy idea. Back then I was young and stupid. Oh sure there was something charismatic about Jesus – even more so than The Baptizer.

But Jesus clearly said that he would return.

And he said that he was going to do so during our lifetimes back then.

So where the hell is he? And what’s taking him so damn long?

That’s right. I said it. 

You wanted to know what has me so upset. Well now you know. 

Happy?

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Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy, Mary Magdalene

The Girl Who Cried Wolf (10)

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Book I: Chapter 10
June 11

Which brings us now to Mary…

Oh, where should I start? Well, to begin with, I guess I should tell you that she is currently calling herself Miriam Magdala. I suppose that is adequate since she is originally from Magdala – but that is a different story…

Are Miriam and I friends?

Well, let’s just say she is a long time business associate.

OK, to be truthful, at one time she, Alan, and I were inseparable. We all had the same mission to work on, we were all very gung-ho, and of course, we were all blessed with the same…condition.

What do I think about Miriam?

I can tolerate her – when she doesn’t get all high and mighty on me. You see, the problem is that Miriam is very passionate about The Commission – still. She has no other real interests; everything she does is about The Commission – even after all these many years, and all our MANY failures.

Don’t you find that a bit odd? I did. And I got tired of all her badgering. That’s the main reason why I left her and Alan and went off and did my own thing. 

Since we parted ways I’ve lived all over the world, but I migrated to my present home in Williamsport, PA, oh I’d say about fifty years back – give or take a decade.

Because of his willingness to get vaxxed and chipped, and given his academic status, (and because of his various Associations), Alan has enjoyed freedom of movement and thus lived all over Eurasia. Given that he is a scholar and I fancy myself as a scientist, we’ve always maintained at least a professional association.

As for Miriam, I really haven’t kept track of her these past couple centuries; oh, I’ve seen her time and again, but it was always work-related and always with negative results. I remember her telling me previously that she’d spent most of her time in the Far East and I know she said something about “being a student of world religions,” but I didn’t really pay much attention – so long as she had something to occupy her other than MY whereabouts then that was fine by me.

Which brings us to today — June 11.

To be honest, I was not that surprised to see Miriam in my visions – once I saw that Benedict was up to something, and that Alan was in trouble, well, I figured that news of Miriam would pop up next.

As usual, I was correct.

A new day, a new revelation from Him – and this time it was all about Miriam. And wouldn’t you know it – I caught her writing another one of those damn secret notes!

(Boy, this woman really knows how to make me steam!)

1492 is coming for you – MM.

“Please do something, John.” I saw Miriam whisper – even though she was alone and her intended receiver (me) was on the other side of the globe.

(Who the hell is she talking to? It also steamed me that she was wearing a face mask despite being by herself – but then again she always was a rule-following virtue-signaler (something else I hated that about her).

Meanwhile, she kept talking, “I know you feel like a prodigal son, but it doesn’t have to be like that. Acknowledge The Lord and He will make your paths straight again, John. Stop doubting Him and believe once more.”

(What the hell — why can’t she just leave me alone?)

I then watched as Miriam fell back into her chair and allowed the tears to take over. (She always one for the dramatics). She cried as quietly as she could, soiling her masks but apparently trying not to be heard through the paper thin walls of the palace.

(Yes, palace – don’t worry, I’ll get to that).

“None of us can do it alone, John.” She continued quietly, at prayer level. “Only we three can defeat him, but we must act together — though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves, a cord of three strands is not easily broken. Don’t you see, we need you? Please believe again – you may be immortal, but you are not invincible.”

(Oh, so you caught that? Oops).

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