Tag Archives: Lazarus

Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy

1.24 Brother Lazarus

Leave a comment

Book I: Chapter 24
June 23

The next day, I got yet another vision, but instead of giving me some answers, it only added to my confusion.

Tell me what YOU think is going on here…

<CLANG! BANG!> The thundering sound caused a man strapped to a bed to wake up – it was Alan.

But just where was he? I could tell that Alan had no clue and I was unable to make out much from his lonely surroundings.

The last thing I remember about Alan was that he had collected his Nail from the CEC Catacomb vault and was on his way to see Joseph – until he got jumped by a bunch of goons.

After that I didn’t see him again – until now.

“Ah, finally you’ve decided to join us,” a metallic voice blared through a loudspeaker affixed to a nearby wall. “I trust your stay has been pleasant? No? Oh well, please feel free to take it up with management. Oh yes, that’s me. Well, your complaint has been duly noted. Thank you.”

(Now who the hell is this joker?)

“Wha–?” Alan began. “Who are you? Is this The Vatican?”

“Please save all your questions till the end of the tour.” The voice continued. “Now, if you don’t mind, let’s begin.”

Alan tried to sit up – only to discover that he was bound to his bed.

“Oh, did I forget to mention that?” The voice said. “Well, that’s merely a precaution – for your own safety. Not your safety from anything to do with the virus, mind you, but for, well let’s just say…other reasons. And to answer your question – No, this is not The Vatican.”

Although he was a prisoner, I could tell that Alan was more annoyed than frightened. Did he remember the conspiracy theories he and Teri had been discussing back in Bucharest? Was he worried about the personal safety of his friend Pope Benedict? Did he think he’d been nabbed by contact tracers and taken into the shadow world of the UN Quarantine Camps? I didn’t know the answers to those questions, but I could see he was no mood to banter with some halfwit captor.  

“What do you want with me?” Alan asked.

“Master Alan Zarus, until recently, the Sef de Catadre of Bucharest University’s History Department. Prior that, you were at Antioch. And before that, Jerusalem – serving 15 years there. Then let’s see, oh yes, before that you were in the New World – at UCLA, Loyola of Chicago, and Saint Bonaventure. Nearly a decade at each – hmm, very interesting.”

Alan remained silent. (I knew he wasn’t liking where this was going).

“What I don’t understand is the timeline.” The voice replied slyly. “I’ve just rattled off a period of no less than seventy-five years – seventy-five! — yet, you don’t look a day past forty. What’s your secret, man? Are you using a mountain of Oil of Olay? Have you discovered the Fountain of Youth? No, I’ve got it — you must have the Holy Grail!”

“Clearly you have me confused with someone else.” Alan replied without emotion. “I was only an intern at Jerusalem and prior to that had no professional history.”

“Oh yes, and I am a retired investor on a pension, living here as a Jew in the twilight of my life.” The speaker quipped (are we quoting movies now?), “Come off it, man. We both know that’s a lie. If you hadn’t been so damned overconfident you would have changed your identity. You didn’t — you simply changed your locale. Did you really think we wouldn’t find you, Laz—ah, perhaps I’ll save that.”

Alan flinched, but did not reply.

“I DID see that, by the way.” The voice slithered. “But, I didn’t need that to confirm anything.” (Obviously his captor knew Alan was Lazarus. Oops, hope I didn’t just ruin the suspense for you).

“What do you want?”

“We’re not there yet. I’m having too much fun. Now where was I? Oh yes, this impresses me – you’re quite the secret society buff; and I’m not just talking research, you’re active! Let’s name just a few, shall we… first there’s the prestigious Club of Rome – ooh. And let’s not forget The Committee of 300 – obviously very selective. I’m impressed — especially since I was active in those too. But, by now, you knew that right, Brother?”

(There’s that damn Brotherhood again — don’t worry, I’ll get to that).

Alan sighed. “I can see you have quite an imagination.”

“Is that so? Then, I’m sure you won’t have any concerns about this.”

On cue, the door to Alan’s room opened. In walked an otherwise non-descript middle-eastern man, he wore a surgical mask (apparently he never got the memo about how dangerous those cancer cloths were) and was clothed in a simple black robe. Standing silently, he held a silver platter, while looking vacantly at the far wall.

Alan’s eyes went to the object on the tray – a wooden caisse about a foot long. (I’ll bet you know what that is. This is not a good sign).

Alan struggled to break free, “Damn you!”

“Ah, something finally has registered.” The speaker jeered. “Come now, did you really think I didn’t know about It?” Then instructing the attendant, “Go ahead, Iffat, open the case.”

(Ah, that’s a BIG mistake).

“NO!” Alan urged. “Don’t do it, man. It’s a death sentence.”

Iffat didn’t heed Alan’s warning, instead he opened the tiny black coffin, revealing the lone object inside – an iron rod nestled amidst red velvet.

At this point, the speaker advised, “All right, Iffat, you can close the box.” (Wise move).

The servant did as commanded and then left the room – despite his protests Alan was powerless to stop him. Yet the interrogator laughed, “Don’t worry, my men won’t touch the Nail – they know better… now. I just wanted you to know your prize was safe. Soon, I’ll have the two held by your friends… And YOU will help me get them.”

(So he wants my Nail too? Fine by me. Come and get it).

Yet Alan didn’t agree, “NEVER! I’ll never help you!”

Harsh laughter boomed from the speaker in reply.

Alan screamed, “What do you want?”

Still no answer came forth.

“Who are you?” Alan tried again.

Finally, the voice replied, “You know who I am, Brother Lazarus.”

Showing no emotion or further surprise, Alan closed his eyes and simply stated, “You are The Beast.”

At that, the door opened, and in walked…

Just then the vision ended… BEFORE I could get a look at The Beast’s face!

Who was it?

Could it really be… Joseph?

Continue Reading…

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

1.19 American Idol

Leave a comment

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?)

Continue Reading…

Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy

1.15 The Grandmaster

Leave a comment

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!)

Continue Reading…

Book 1 The Pawns of Prophecy, St John the Apostle

Immortality — Ugh (11)

Leave a comment

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?

Continue Reading…