Tag Archives: St John

2.28 The Bible Code

Book II: Chapter 28
July 12

Miriam bowed her head, while Alan sputtered – still unable to accept the possibility there might be a secret vault beneath St. Peter’s Basilica that he knew nothing about, “I don’t believe it!”

“It’s true.” Miriam agreed. “La Papessa had the vault built specifically to house my letter. The construction was completed by a craftsman who was in the employ of the Bishop of Hostia – her son. As it turns out that contractor was an illiterate mute – making him an ideal choice for such a covert job. As far as I know, outside of the craftsman, Pope Joanna, and her son, the only other person that knew about the vault was me.”

“Does anyone have access to that depository now?” Alan asked.

“Three people.” Miriam advised. “The current pope –for among the many articles that come with the Papal Throne, a cryptic message about La Papessa’s vault was included in Pope Francis’ personal artifact collection. However, if we surmise that only those popes who have contacted me about it have actually read the letter, then the number of popes who knew about the vault has been very small indeed.”

“How many?” Alan asked.

“None.” Miriam smiled winsomely, before explaining further, “I doubt that any of the popes have ever looked at La Papessa’s message or spent any time trying to decipher its Bible Code. After all, didn’t we just say that Joanna’s reign was discredited? Thus which pope in his right mind would want to be caught meddling with her affairs? Certainly not the millennial-appeasing Francis. Ah, don’t you see the beautiful tapestry of God’s work — even though Pope Joan suffered, it was not for nothing – for she protected this knowledge from prying eyes, even until this very day!”

“I’d like to believe that, but we can’t be sure.” Alan surmised. “Yet you spoke of THREE people — who are the other two?”

“I believe one could be the Confuto Penitentiary.”  Miriam speculated. “He is the keeper of the most secret items of the Papal Artifacts collection.”

(Dammit, she’s on to something. And when Miriam gets a whiff, she’s like a bloodhound that won’t stop).

“You mean the Major Penitentiary.” Alan corrected.

“No. I mean what I said. The Confuto – Supreme – Penitentiary.”

“I love seeing you two argue.” I interrupted, taking another swig of my drink, having now lost count of how many of my Modelo’s I’d swilled in the last hour. (They sure do go down easy when you’re having fun). “You sound just like an old married couple.”  

Both Alan and Miriam blushed red at that comment, and Alan stuttered, “Miriam, there hasn’t been a Confuto Penitentiary for over two centuries.”

(Ah, but there will be soon, buddy – and I couldn’t help thinking about the mysterious Cardinalate Marrollo’s recent request to Benedict – could Marrollo know about The Sacra Crypta and the secrets it housed?)

“No Confuto in office is a good thing!” Miriam advised. “For that’s one less person we have to worry about. But that still leaves one man left who is all the more important to us. He’s never contacted me about the letter but he still worries me.”

“Benedict.” Alan filled in the blank.

“Benedict.” Miriam agreed.

“We must see him.”  

“We must know which side he is really on.”

“Well, that settles it then. We three shall go to Benedict.”

“Good thing we have our Covid Freedom Passes. When do we leave?”

“I guess that’s up to John.” Alan looked over at me in anticipation.

I took another long pull on my beer, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and then leaned back in my chair to make it a recliner, “You two are welcome to get on up out of here whenever you like. And the sooner the better. But as for me, you know I never took the Covid jab so I ain’t got to Vax Pass – and I ain’t about to get one. Naw, I’m just fine where I am.”

“John, how can you say that?” Miriam asked. “Are you concerned about the vaccine’s side effects? But I don’t understand, yes the vaccine is super dangerous, but know they can’t here you.”

I didn’t reply.

“This isn’t about the vaccine or it’s horrible side effects on humanity, Miriam.” Alan surmised. “John probably has more Freedom Passes than we do – albeit homemade ones I’m sure. The fact is that he knows we all must go together.

Still I was steadfast in my silence.

Bates already has my Nail.” Alan reminded. “Yours and Miriam’s are the weapons we need to defeat him. We can’t afford to let him get them too. If he does, he’ll be able to perform The Armageddon Rite!

Another taste of my drink, and I licked my lips, “Ah, that’s good. Mr. Modelo sure does brew a good beer, don’t he?”

“Jesus needs you.” Miriam ignored by charades. “I know you are still hurting, but The Lord will restore you again, John — and you will praise Him for it. Don’t you care anymore?”

At that, I jumped out of my chair, sending beer cans flying, “HE doesn’t care about me, so why should I care about him?” Hobbling over to my bookcase, I pulled out the chest that held my Nail, and threw it at them. “If you want that damn thing so bad, you can have it. Go! Do whatever you two want to. Go to Benedict – see how far that gets you. Visit Bates, if you like. I don’t care; just leave me alone to die!”

And with that, I forced Alan and Miriam out of my house – tossing Miriam’s PPE out with them and then slamming the door shut.

Miriam tried banging on the door to get back in, “Refrain from anger and turn from wrath, John — it leads only to evil.”

“Shut up, Mary!” I screamed at her through the door. “When will you understand — that which is twisted cannot be straightened, that which is lacking, cannot be counted.  I am no more than a man forgotten and I just want to be left alone!”

And so they left – off again to pursue their great Commission.

As for me, I was alone at last.

Finally I was ready get to back to work — for The Opus Magnum beckoned. And this time I vowed to continue that rite until the very end… and hopefully die trying!


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29 – Leavin’ on a Jet Plane
Book II Table of Contents

2.27 A Rose by Any Other Name

Book II: Chapter 27
July 12

My last jibe did not disappoint – and with both Alan and Miriam wfhite-faced, I went for the kill, “Lighten up, people. I know we can’t switch sides. But if Michael wants to do his thing – fine. And if you two want to stop Bates or Ma’bus or whoever he is – also fine. Just leave me out of it.” Then I clicked on the TV – hoping they would finally get the hint.

Miriam walked over, rudely snatched the remote (yes, the remote that I had just recently learned how to use!), and then turned the TV back off. “Stern discipline awaits him who leaves the path, John! You’re not listening.”

“WHAT?” I roared. “WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO KNOW?”

“Don’t you see — Michael’s offensive is a SECRET attack! I wrote about this in my letter to La Papessa. In the end, after consulting the scriptures, she marked my letter signum eternus and locked it within the most secret of the Vatican’s vaults – where it been ever since.”

“The Biblioteca Apostolica?” Alan asked. When Miriam shook her head, he wondered, “Then your letter must be in The Archives of the Apos–?”

The Vatican Archives

“Alan,” Miriam interrupted. “It’s not in any location under the control of The Apostolic Penitentiary.

“Then what other secret vault could you be referring to?”

“I’m referring to the… the… Sacra Crypta.” Miriam whispered.

The Sacra Crypta

(Bingo! That’s what I was trying to remember when Joseph was considering Cardinal Marrollo for Confuto Penitentiary – a post that would give him access to the Sacra Crypta. Damn, it’s all starting to make sense now).

Alan’s eyes narrowed, “My dear Miriam, remember who you’re talking to – you don’t seriously expect me to believe that such a warehouse has remained outside of MY knowledge for lo these many centuries?”

“I’m not sure what to say, Alan, but The Sacra Crypta does indeed exist.”

“Then where is it located?” Alan snapped, clearly embarrassed.

“Beneath the church of Santo Stefano degli Ungheresi.

“Impossible. That church was pulled down in 1776.”

“True. But what else do you know about it?”

Santo Stefano was established by Charlemagne in the 9th century.” Alan recalled. “And I was in attendance when Pope Sylvester II later granted it to King Stephen I of Hungary back around 1000. In fact, that church was a key diplomatic link between Hungary and the Vatican for centuries.”

“OK. OK.” I tried to move the story along. “What happened next, Professor?”

“Hmm.” Alan tried to remember. “I moved away from Rome again around 1100, and by then the church fell into some disrepair. In 1776 Pope Pius VI pulled down Santo Stefano and built a new sacristy for St. Peter’s.”

“If you loved it so much, why didn’t you stop this?” I teased.

“John, as you might recall, we three were tied up dealing with Weishaupt at the time. Regardless, Saint Stephen’s church was torn down – so now all that remains are its Roman columns – which I convinced Pius, by letter, to place in the new sacristy of the St. Peter’s.”

“Alan, you’re correct on all of that.” Miriam agreed. “I know how much you loved that chapel. However, you overlooked one thing.”

“Oh, what’s that?” Alan asked, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“There was a secret cellar under Santo Stefano.”

“What?!? That’s impossible.” Alan was offended. “Why, I’ve been there a thousand times, how could I never have known about it? There wasn’t any such feature in the original construction.”

“She said it was a secret.” I laughed.

Alan’s look at me was pure ice, yet it was Miriam who spoke again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I was sworn to secrecy.”

“Who built this vault? Who kept you from telling us?”

“The answer to that question is one and the same.” Miriam began.

But it was I who filled in the blank, “Don’t tell me — Pope Joan?”


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28 – The Bible Code
Book II Table of Contents

2.25 The Many Faced Man

Book II: Chapter 25
July 12

“But how could Benedict hold our Nails in his hands without being destroyed?” Alan pondered at my unexpected revelation about the Pope.

“And without dying?” Miriam was still in shock herself at my suggestion.

Another long pause followed as they tried to make sense of things. I smiled as they prattled on, enjoying my drink.

Naturally it was Miriam who rained on my parade, “For you, O Lord, are the Most High! Don’t you see, this merely confirms what I’m saying — Benedict will be filled with divine power at the appointed time, so that he CAN hold the Nails in order to destroy Bates as Dr. Ma’bus and thus enable Christ’s return!” And she smiled winsomely at the thought.

(Dammit! I hadn’t thought of it that way — she just might be right).

Envy rots the bones.” I muttered under my breath, before replying to her, “If that’s true, Mary, then what are WE still doing here? In your theory we three are useless.”

“John.” Alan raised a hand. “You know our mission – we are to guard The Nails until the day they are needed, until The Second Coming. Nobody said our role would be in the spotlight. Isn’t it enough to know that our work will be directly responsible for aiding Christ’s return?”

<SMASH!> I threw my glass against the wall. “No, Laz-a-rus, it is not! Do you think I wanted to wait around here for two thousand years, guarding a worthless piece of iron, only to give it off to someone else at the moment of truth — so THEY can get all the glory? That’s a raw deal!”

“John, you know that’s not true.” Miriam reminded me. “YOU, more than anyone, know the value of Jesus’ love.”

“Two thousand years is a long time — I guess I plumb forgot; just like HE forgot about me.” And before anyone could reply, I continued, “Besides, who cares about all your theories, you’re probably wrong… again.”

“What do you mean?” Alan asked.

“Don’t you see?” I said wearily. “There is no many faced man, there is no antichrist!”

“How can you say that?” Miriam gasped.

“Just how often have you two been wrong about The Beast?” I jabbed back. “Oh let me count the ways. First there was Nero – but that was on me – he’s the one I wrote about in Revelation – or so I thought. So I’ll take the bullet for being wrong there.

“But it was you, Mary, who brought us Attila in the 400’s,” I hastened on. “Now Attila was a ruthless conqueror indeed, but NOT the antichrist. Which brings us to Alan’s theory about Archbishop Arnulf of Rheims in the late 900’s.”

“Well, he was a thinking man’s antichrist.” Alan offered.

“Yet again we were wrong. “ I concluded. “So after that, I stopped trying to guess, but you two plodded ahead. You listened to Charles V when he brought you Martin Luther in the early 1500’s – yet why you two couldn’t see that Charles was playing you for a fool, I’ll never know? Luckily I was able to talk some sense into you. Oh sure, Luther caused some problems for the Church, but on the whole, I think you’ll agree he’s proven to be a catalyst for change which the Church needed.”

“Touche.” Alan nodded. “And your poi—“

“And then there was Adam Weishaupt.” I cut him off. “Or should I say George Washington? Indeed, after he pulled his little identity switcheroo he had the world fooled – and us too. And while he advanced the cause of the Illuminated Ones, and laid the foundation for America to become a world harlot, he was surely NOT the Antichrist either.”

The Shocking Truth about our first President?

“How can you be so sure?” Miriam asked.

“Which brings us at last to the one person that you two really had me convinced on – Hitler.” I pressed ahead with my own designs, ignoring Miriam. “Yes, despite my pledge that I was done listening to you two after the Weishaupt Fiasco, even I couldn’t resist your arguments about Ol’ Adolf.”

“Well he DID fit the bill.” Miriam whined.

“And yet, we were wrong about him too.” Alan said. “Oh, he was indeed evil, but… as John pointed out, even Hitler was NOT the antichrist.”

“And so it goes.” I concluded. “There IS no antichrist. Jesus is not coming back. And we three will be forced to rot here in this world forever. Therefore, will you two please just let it be and leave me alone.”

It seemed that my arguments were having the desired effect on Alan, because he was at a loss for words. Yet Miriam continued to protest, “You’re wrong, John. This time is different. Bill Bates as Ghaz al’ Ridwan Ma’bus IS The Beast!”

“Mary, why are you so sure this time?” I grimaced. “Just because this Bates fellow meets all your criteria?”

“He does!” Miriam slapped fist to hand.

“But so did all the others!” I retorted, in disbelief at her doggedness. “Hell, Flipflop was just as bad so why don’t you name him the Antichrist?”

Yet Miriam just sat there — jaw jutting out, back straight, unwilling, or unable, to give up.

Knowing she wasn’t going to leave without saying her piece, my shoulders finally sagged. I felt as old as I looked, “OK, let me hear your story. If you must tell it, get it over with so I can get rid of you two and… get back to the business of trying to kill myself.”

“John!” Miriam said. “You’re blaspheming Christ’s work in you.”

“Whatever. Please, just tell your tale and then go. What makes you so sure that Bates is the Beast? Enlighten me.”

“Because The Infernal War has moved to the front lines of the underworld, and Michael himself is leading the troops in this campaign!”


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Book II Table of Contents

2.24 The Secret Supper

Book II: Chapter 24
July 12

I successfully stopped myself from revealing my secret vision about Pope Benedict and Bill Bates to Alan and Miriam by chugging my beer and then going to the kitchen for more.

Yet before I could even sit back down in my chair, Miriam was on to me, “Do you realize that you are proposing that a Head of the Catholic Church is part and parcel to a pawn of Satan? Shame on you, John. Even if Francis is the official head, we all know Benedict is still running the show right? So how can y–”

“John, does your vehemence against Benedict have anything to do with your grudge against The Catholics?” Alan interrupted. “Are you still bitter about the fact that they tried to martyr you for leading a sect of the Cathars? Good God, man, but that was hundreds of years ago.”

“It might as well have been yesterday to me.” I replied, remembering the events of 1235 A.D – when I was sentenced to death as part of Gregory IX’s Inquisition.

(Yet I’ll have you know, his Dominican lackeys succeeded in murdering me only because I wanted them to — unfortunately, their efforts didn’t succeed).

“John, why did you ever get mixed up in that cult?” Miriam inquired. “Did you really believe what you wrote in the Gospel of the Secret Supper?”

(Wow! The Gospel of the Secret Supper – now that’s a classic! If you can find that text, give it a good read — for entertainment purposes only, of course).

“What kind of a question is that?” I exploded on Miriam. “And coming from YOU of all people, Mary? Aren’t you little Miss I’m Tolerant of Everybody’s Beliefs? And what’s with all the Covid virtue signaling – you’re a worse enabler than Zuckerberg or Dorsey!” And before she could reply, I continued, “Of course I believed the Secret Supper Gospel – hell, I believe what I wrote there more than what’s credited to me in the Christian Bible. After all, what’s so wrong about what we Cathars held to be true – namely that ‘the earth was created by Satan as a prison for souls, and that Jesus was sent by God to show us how to escape back to Heaven?’ Ha, the real problem, as you both well remember, was that my Cathars were growing in such popularity in Europe that we were replacing Catholicism! Obviously the Vatican had to do something about that – thus their creation of the Dominican order and the ruthless Inquisition.”

Pope Gregory’s Methods were not very successful

“John, let’s be reasonable,” Alan rebutted. “You didn’t give Pope Gregory much choice — you rejected all the sacraments, and you came up with two very sacrilegious rituals of your own. What did you expect?”

I wouldn’t give in, “Every group has its rank and file. The Rite of Consolamentum allowed us to advance our key members into the class of Perfecti. The Vatican didn’t really give a crap about that. It was Endura they hated.”

“Well, who would approve of encouraging people to deliberately commit suicide?” Miriam questioned. “Obviously YOU thought it was a shortcut to get yourself back to the spirit world. And obviously it didn’t work.” (She was right there). “Oh, John, why must you always pursue your own designs? Why can’t you delight yourself in the Lord, for if you do, He will give you the desires of your heart.” And then she looked at me with eyes that seemed to bore into my brain. “Is it because of the guilt for your sins? You make no effort to hide it; why you wear it as if it is a badge of courage! But why? Surely The Lord will punish you with the rod, but He will never take his love from you. Why not turn back to Him? Say to the Lord ‘I confess my transgressions to you.’ And He will reply, ‘You are forg—“

I could take it no more, “That’s enough! How can I dispute God’s judgment for me, you ask? Well, all He ever does is overwhelm me with misery! Justice? What is justice to Him who makes all the rules? Go take your—“

“OK! OK!” Alan tried to restore order. “John, regardless of what happened back then, and regardless of any guilt you are still dealing with, this is not the time for an intervention. We’re getting way off the subject at hand NOW. Do either of you have anything constructive to share about Benedict?”

I gave no reply – knowing I had already said too much. Instead I merely took a long pull on my drink – finishing it in a giant gulp. Then I let out a loud belch. After that, I got up, went into my kitchen, and grabbed what was left of a six pack of Sam Adams Summer Ale. (It’s not the best summertime brew, but it will do in a pinch and since I had the ingredients on hand I couldn’t resist making a batch a few weeks ago).

When I finally returned to the living room, I could see that Alan and Miriam were still waiting on me to respond. (Oh why does this have to be so tiring all the time? I could feel every bit of my 2,000 years of age. Thanks, Lord!)

Seeing that my ‘friends’ weren’t leaving, I realized that I was going to have to play hardball. So, taking a big swig of my drink, I said after another belch, “You know, I just realized I forget to tell you something — it seems to me there IS more to Benedict than meets the eye. As it turns out, I recently had a vision about our Pope. Now, now, don’t get all excited because I can’t remember much – after all, I’m an old man.” And although I knew they didn’t buy that excuse, I pressed on before they could comment. “In any case, in my dream, I saw Benedict holding our Nails in his hands as he approached this Ma’bus character.”

“You saw Benedict and Ga-, er, Dr. Ma’bus together?” Miriam asked.

“What was the event?” Alan inquired. “Were they friends or foes?”

“You’re both missing the point!” I stopped their questions. “It doesn’t matter why they were together. The important thing is that Benedict was holding the nails…” I reeled them in, “Don’t you listen?

“The Pope was HOLDING the nails… in his hands.”

Alan and Miriam looked at one another, astonished.

(Ah, the sweet taste of victory! Gee, this Summer Ale really IS good.)


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25 – The Many Faced Man
Book II Table of Contents

2.23 Surrounded

Book II: Chapter 23
July 12

The very next day, I was in my living room with Alan and Miriam. It had been nearly a week since I’d brought back Alan (nee Lazarus) from the dead – I’d hoped that my former friends would have left me by now but as usual nobody seemed to care what I wanted. But at least Miriam wasn’t decked out in her PPE and she didn’t try to make Alan to the same.

And so Miriam had continued to help Alan recover, I’d been raked with more revelations (no rest for the weary). So far today I’d been free of vision, however that didn’t mean I could relax. As I sat in my Laz-e-boy trying to drink myself into oblivion, Alan and Mary were sipping tea on my raggedy couch (and clearly not getting my many hints for them to scram).

They had no idea about my visions the past few days and I wasn’t about to tell them. I did my best to conceal the shaking of my hands but it wasn’t working — for no matter what I did, I couldn’t escape the image of The Beast nailed to Peter’s cross!

Meanwhile, Alan was now back to his old self – which is to say that he was determined to understand what was going on in the world; and now he and Miriam were both wearing me out with their questions.

“Thank God you were able to find me, Miriam.” Alan gushed again. “Even while I was lost inside myself, I could feel the slightest something… tingling at the edges of my mind — a faint calling that kept me from falling over the precipice and into Oblivion. Miriam, you saved my life!”

(Hmmm. Alan’s talk suddenly intrigued me. For a moment I forgot about Bates as I realized that if I could somehow get myself into one of those Chairs, then perhaps I could succeed where Alan had failed).

“Hardly.” Miriam corrected. “It was John who really saved you.”

(Yeah, you’re welcome – now get out so I can get back to work).

“Well, you both did.” Alan smiled. But then, after pondering further, “Miriam, you’ve talked to me with your telepathy before, but this time it was different — it wasn’t so much a voice I heard, as a <presence> I felt. Was this because of The Chair of Woe?”

Miriam blushed, “Alan, I was desperate. Time was running out, and telepathy wasn’t working. I, ah, had to use… my Psychic Probe.”

I roared with laughter at that admission, raising my glass of my version of Duvel in a toast, “Here, here! Now I’ve h—“

“John, stop!” Miriam commanded.

Yet it was too late to save Alan from embarrassment, and his face went from a canvas of shocked whiteness to one of flushed red.

At this, Miriam quickly added. “Please. Don’t worry, Alan. I only used the power to locate you. I did not go into your memories.”

(Well, if she did, then she’ll know the secret Alan’s been keeping from her lo these many years. Oh, this is rich!)

“Ah… thank you?” Alan was clearly still horrified at the prospect of Miriam inside his mind. “It’s not as if I have anything to hide, mind you. It’s just… just that…”

“A man’s thoughts are his private business.” I wagged a finger at Miriam. “Nobody should be able to get into the mind of another person. I don’t even know why you call that ability a gift, – it’s witchcraft.”

“And your Alchemy is any better?” Miriam shot back. “John, you’ll go to the Pit for your lack of discipline – led astray by your own great folly! Talk about witchcraft, why that’s the very defin—“

“People!” Alan broke in. “In-fighting is not going to get us anywhere. Look, I am grateful to you both. By whatever means necessary, you saved my life. Thank you.” And he switched subjects. “I should have known that Teri was the real Mystery. After all, how could a woman like that be so interested in Biblical Antiquities?”

“Amen to that!” Miriam chimed in. “It only took me one look to see that there was more to her than meets the eye.”

“But, if Mystery is the Evil Temptress, how do we explain her dealings with Benedict? After all, even though Jesus charged us with The Commission, I’ve always felt that The Pope would be OUR ally, not theirs.”

“Benedict can’t be aligned with Bates.” Miriam replied. “The Beast must take down The Rock of Peter before he can begin his own reign.”

“Well, Francis is that rock now.” Alan advised. “Clearly there’s more to Benedict then we all knew. How do you explain his role otherwise?”

“I believe there’s only one interpretation,” Miriam offered. “Benedict will be the one to kill this man Ma’bus and enable the Second Coming – not us!”

Miriam caught me off guard with that comment and I saw that Alan was taken back a bit as well.

(I know what you’re thinking – now would be a good time to tell them about my vision of the future with Benedict supposedly killing the Ma’bus figure, but I wasn’t about to give Miriam the satisfaction).

Instead I entered the conversation with a word of caution, “It’s not good to have zeal without knowledge, nor to be hasty and miss the way. You’d never make a good scientist, Mary, for you only reach conclusions that you WANT to find and fail to consider other possibilities.”

“Such as?”

“Such as the potential that Bates is NOT the antichrist and that Benedict is.”

(Sorry, but I couldn’t resist throwing that out there – if only to get them riled up a bit!)

“No chance.” Alan shot down my comment. “Bates IS The Beast. Mystery told me so and we all agreed on who she is.”

“Interesting – I don’t recall me agreeing.” I replied. “After all, if Mystery is The Evil Temptress wouldn’t it be in her nature to mislead you?”

Alan did not reply.

“And even if Benedict is not The Beast, couldn’t he be The Second Helper?” I suggested. “Perhaps he will bring The Nails to Bates’ Ma’bus persona as part of the Armageddon Rite, maybe Benedict is the one who will install them into The Crown of Doom, thus stopping the Second Coming. Perhaps, he—“

(Suddenly I stopped short, realizing I was saying too much).


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24 – The Secret Supper
Book II Table of Contents

2.12 Ozymandias The Great

Book II: Chapter 12
July 7

“What do you want me to do?” I asked Miriam — who’d been pleading with me from the moment she arrived, over three hours ago.

“John, I’m at my wits end,” She replied. Miriam was still wearing her pandemic safety garb – disposable Hazmat suit, gloves, booties, and facial shield over her Nano Mask. She looked ridiculous in the getup but I knew she wore it around me because she knew I was a Covid-denier and thus likely infested with the virus. After fiddling with her mask, she barked at me. “John, all you do is sit there in your Laz-E-Boy with your arms folded and a sour expression on your face? Put down your beer and look at Alan!”

“This isn’t any ol’ brew, it’s a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale – only the finest beer in the world!” Even as I said it, I could see Miriam glowered behind her mask and face shield, so I slowly lowered my glass and glanced at Alan as she requested – I had to admit, he looked pretty bad as he lolled mindlessly in his chair – especially with that stupid mask Miriam on him.

Before I could comment more, Miriam was on me again, “You’re probably the only person in this world who can help. I need you to save him, John. Bring Alan back to us!”

“And then I suppose you’ll want me to help you to save the world, is that it? Let’s solve the Covid crisis once and for all, turn back the clock on our Climate disasters, give everyone unlimited money without making them work, and while we’re at is solve world hunger too. How does that sound? We’ll feel so good about everything in life. The sun will always shine, and unicorns will fly out of my butt when I pray? Is that what you want? ”

“Ugh, I don’t understand you?” Miriam whined. “Why have you given up on our mission? Why have you forsaken our Lord?”

“You think I have forsaken Him?” Now it was my turn to get angry. “What kind of a fool are YOU, Miriam? Take off your mask and open your eyes! It’s been nearly 2,000 years since He left. Yet He said He would fulfill His mission to us DURING our lifetimes? What a crock! If anyone has been abandoned it’s US!”

“John,” Miriam replied quietly. “Don’t forget that our lifetimes are still going. There is still time for Him to fulfill His promises. You just need to have faith. Remember, He said ‘I go to prepare a place for you. I will come ba–“

“Don’t throw that verse back in my face — I wrote that! And yet apparently I was deceived, because what I wrote is NOT true.”

“How can you say that?” Miriam’s eyes were wide in fear – I guess she didn’t realize how disillusioned I’d become these last few decades. “Your gospel is the most beloved of all. YOUR words have changed the world – for the better. Look at all the many millions who have been saved directly because of how you were able to capture the essence of The Teacher. You are the greatest Fisher of Men of us all, John.”

“What good has it done me? I am supposedly ‘the Apostle that Jesus loved.’ Yet what did it get ME? Am I with Him in paradise? No, instead He gave me this… wonderful curse of immortality. But with a worn out body to enjoy it in! Why? To sit here and see the world decay as a bunch of globalists turn us all into digital cattle? I’m tired of everything. I’m tired of waiting! When is He coming back? When?”

“I… I don’t know. But we can’t give up now. The Final Battle is on.”

“Don’t count on me. I’m done fighting.”

Shall we accept the good from God but not the trouble?” Miriam tried to negate my words. Then, glancing at Alan, “John, regardless of how you feel about Our Lord, I’m asking you, as a friend, please help Alan. He needs you.”

“Take him to a doctor.” I waved her off. “Medicine has advanced quite a bit and they worship at the altar of Science now. These men like Dr. Flipflop and his ilk fancy themselves as gods and aren’t afraid to tell you so.”

“You know they can’t help him. He needs YOU, John.”

“Why ME?”

“Alan was forced to endure The Chair of Wrath!” Miriam screamed – as if I didn’t already know. “He is trying to kill himself from the inside out!”

I let Miriam’s words hang in the air for a moment as I pretended to ponder the situation – even though I had no intention of helping. But then…

Wait a second, old man. I thought to myself. Alan IS trying to kill himself — and he very well might succeed!

Once I made that connection, things changed for me.

I couldn’t bear to let Alan escape this life – not without me too!

“Interesting.” I nodded, playing it cool for Miriam, even though my scientific curiosity was now raging.

The moment lingered as I tried to convince myself that what I was about to do was worth the risk.

Miriam waited anxiously, tending to Alan, and I could sense that she was praying urgently inside her mind.

“Arg! I should be asleep already,” I blurted at last, “lying with the kings of the earth, men who built monuments for themselves, but which are now lying in ruins. Let me just be like Ozymandias — dead and forgotten and covered over with sand.”

I continue my rant for a bit, however Miriam didn’t bat an eye.

Tired of it all, at last I gave in to her, “Fine. You have your wish – bring him to my workshop.”


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13 – Call me Azoth
Book II Table of Contents

Who Wrote The Book of Revelation? Apostle John or a DIFFERENT John?

Who wrote the Book of Revelation? Did the Apostle John really Revelation? The answer is not as easy as it seems. In this article we’ll explore the arguments in favor of St John being the author and also talk about why some experts believe there was “another John” behind this famous book. I’ll also give you my opinion on this age-old question which has now plagued Christians for nearly 2,000 years. 

1. Who was John of Patmos?

John of Patmos” is the self-identified author in the text of The Book of Revelation.

While it’s helpful that the author named himself for us, the problem we face has always been – WHO exactly was John of Patmos? Was he St John the Apostle or was he perhaps a lesser known “John?”

Let’s explore…

Gustav Dore’s “John of Patmos”

2. Who Wrote the Book of Revelation – What Most People Believe

The mainstream view is that John of Patmos is in fact John the Apostle.

Apostle John was also known as St John the Immortal, John the Beloved, John of Zebedee, John the Revelator, John the Divine, and John the Theologian. Given that he was a man of many names, it’s possible that Saint John was also known as John of Patmos too. 

What Books did St John write?

In addition to being credited with The Book of Revelation, Apostle John is also commonly held by many to be the author of The Gospel of John, the Epistles of John, and possibly the apocryphal text called The Gospel of the Secret Supper (a text long lost to history but which can now be read in The Gnostic Bible).

When is St John believed to have written The Book of Revelation?

The theory is that the apostle was evangelizing in Rome and was exiled to the island of Patmos by the Roman Emperor Domitian in 95 AD as punishment because John was perceived as a threat to Roman rule. Recall that during Domitian’s rule Rome didn’t look kindly on Christians and banished a number of alleged practitioners of  ‘magic and prophecy.’

Under this theory then John is said to have received visions while on Patmos and that he wrote the Book of Revelation during these later years of his life.

HOWEVER, not everyone agrees that Saint John is the true author of The Book of Revelation…

3. Is there “another John” who could be the real author of Revelation?

Despite the mainstream view that John the Apostle wrote Revelation, many modern scholars do not believe this to be true. Perhaps the most famous in our times is Bart Ehrman.  There were also numerous early church elders (among them the famed Eusebius) who believed the author of Revelation was a “different John.”

Who were these other Johns?

Speculation as to who the real John of Patmos was has raged over the centuries. Various other Johns have been put forward as being the author of Revelation. These include:

Why don’t some people believe St. John wrote The Book of Revelation?

The main reasons some early church fathers as well as modern experts don’t buy in to St. John being the author of Revelation has to do with the argument that St. John was NOT (in their view) John of Patmos. Belief in this ‘two-John’ theory has to do with the vast differences between the other texts that St John is  alleged to have written compared to the Book of Revelation. These differences can be summarized as follows: 

  • The author of Revelation specifically identifies himself (i.e. as John of Patmos), while whoever wrote the Gospel of John and the Epistles of John does not specifically identify himself (although St John is held to be the author in most mainstream circles). 
  • There are noted differences in language – the original Greek used in the Gospels and Letters of John is more ‘elegant’ and mistake-free while in Revelations it is more crude. (For more on this, read this book on the topic). 
  • The theological outlook of the books are clearly different. To wit: the Gospel of John focuses on establishing Jesus as the Messiah and professes that whoever believes in him will have eternal life. More importantly the Gospel of John is NOT an apocalyptic text and there is little to no discussion of a soon-to-approach end of the age. The Book of Revelation is the very epitome of an apocalyptic text and its primary purpose is to discuss the soon-to-occur End Times. 

But there’s yet another problem with The Johns…

We don’t know much about John the Evangelist, John the Presbyter, and John the Elder – in fact, it’s possible that these monikers were actually alternate names for the Apostle John. If so, then this could mean that the apostle actually DID write Revelation. After all, being that St John was known by so many names, it’s highly possible he was John of Patmos too. 

4. But did Saint John even write The Gospel of John?

Pondering this question will take  you further down the John Rabbit Hole…

Did you know that not all scholars believe that John the Apostle even wrote the Gospel of John?

The biggest reasons for this trace all the way back to John’s roots. Let’s recall that the apostle John was.  According to the Bible, Saint John was…

  • John of Zebedee, the brother of James, AKA James the Greater).
  • John and his brother were both some of the first disciples Jesus recruited during the early days of his ministry.
  • While John and James went on to become prominent figures in Jesus’ evangelical mission (both during his life and after), they were also both allegedly poor fisherman from Galilee who likely not even literate.
  • The language they spoke was Aramaic, but The Gospel of John and the Epistles were all originally written (as far as we know) in Greek – with a highly literate style.

How did an illiterate, Aramaic speaking fisherman from Galilee write in a high form of Greek?

While it’s certainly possible that John learned a new language during his own evangelical missions as he allegedly traveled outside Palestine on his way to Rome, and while it’s possible that he also learned to read and write, some wonder if he would have been able to develop this writing skills to the level displayed in the Gospel and Letters.

HOWEVER – what’s interesting about this knock on John is that this argument (i.e. that basically St John wasn’t educated enough to use the writing style of the Gospel and the Epistles) actually supports St John being the author of Revelation!

Remember, the writing style of the Greek used by John of Patmos in Revelation is said to be riddled with errors and ‘of a cruder nature.’ Isn’t this exactly as one might suspect of say a fisherman who learned Greek later in life?!?

And so the rabbit hole just got deeper, eh?

5. What do I personally believe about who wrote Revelation?

Personally I choose to believe that St John the Apostle actually wrote everything attributed to him – i.e. The Gospel of John, the Epistles of John, AND The Book of Revelations. This means that I therefore also believe that Saint John the Apostle was indeed John of Patmos.

But how do I reconcile the differences in style between the books and that St John was allegedly illiterate?

Just because someone doesn’t know how to read or write early in life doesn’t mean they can’t learn later, right? And isn’t is possible that if John traveled through Greek-speaking lands that he learned to read, speak, and write that language over the years?

Perhaps most importantly of all, I’m willing to ascribe to the theory that God is more than capable of inspiring St John with whatever literary skills he needed to pen these books.

I also think it makes for a better story.

So either way, Saint John wins in my book!. 🙂

What’s YOUR Take?

Who do YOU believe really wrote Revelations?

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1.23 Vision of the Skull

Book I: Chapter 23
June 22

My marathon day of visions continued. After moving past the vision of Mary and Jesus, my second – and much more interesting – vision, was pretty deep — think Book of Revelations

Revelation Two Beasts

As best I could make out, I was witnessing a FUTURE event—for I was looking upon The Altar of The One True God at The Temple of Jerusalem and immediately I spied Chief Rabbi Yona Metzger, Pope Benedict XVI, the Ayatollah, and that crazy nut Bill Bates — all together.

Given the hordes of people covering the hillsides, I surmised that this was the much publicized ceremony that Rabbi Metzger was organizing to unite their religions in a new era of brotherly love. (Hogwash in my opinion, but who am I to object?)

My vision blurred for a moment, and when it returned, the entire mood had shifted; something was off – for the rabbi was now laying motionless upon The Altar — and peering closer I could see he was dead. Looking around, I also noticed three crosses in the background — they had an eerie resemblance to the ones back on Golgotha – especially since I saw figures on those crosses – crucified!

I strained my eyes to identify the victims – only to get a major shock – for the first body hanging limply on a cross was Lazarus!

I turned to the second cross – only to see Mary.

(Can you guess who was nailed to the third?)

Yes, it’s always unnerving to see yourself as a bloody corpse, but over the years, I’ve been stabbed, shot, and killed in so many ways that it doesn’t affect me much anymore. Instead what excited me about this vision was that, perhaps, just perhaps, this death would really take.

For if this prophecy was true, it seemed I was looking upon the event which I had been waiting nearly two thousand years for – my own death!

Whoopee!!

Now as I told you before, Mary, Lazarus, and I had all been made immortal so that we could stop the coming of The Antichrist. This was our Commission and if successful, we’d be assisting Jesus in his glorious return – unfortunately, it was a job at which we had failed miserably – many times.

For nearly two thousand years, we’d been on guard. At various times in the past, my friends and I thought The End Times were approaching and that the Antichrist walked the earth – yet upon every occasion we were wrong.

Now, however, it appeared that I was finally seeing a different vision – for it was the first which showed the deaths of The Immortals – which I always knew was a key to The End.

Unfortunately for the sake of The Commission, again it seemed that my friends and I had failed – for in my vision The Beast was very much alive, while we three were clearly dead. (Oops!)

Once more my vision got hazy. When next it cleared, I found myself riveted back to the altar – someone was standing there. It was a man who looks like everyman, yet no man. He was wearing a crown of thorns and blood was raining from his head. For a moment I thought it was Jesus, but suddenly I realized it was another – Bill Bates!

Or was it? For his face shifted, and I was left to wonder, Is it you, Lord? Are you really Bill Bates?

Yet there was no time to be sure, for now there was more activity over at the crosses. Something was being done to defile us — a figure in white was pushing a spear into the sides of our bodies.

That’s when I realized Lazarus and Mary were NOT dead after all – for I heard them scream as they got impaled!

Did that finally kill them? I had no time to ponder further, for now the mysterious murderer came over to me.

Entering my own body in my vision, I looked down upon my murderer, yet before I could make out his face, he pierced me too!

“YAAAWWWWWP!!!!” I wailed and even though it was a vision, it hurt like Hell!

To my horror I realized just what we had been speared by — This wasn’t the infamous Spear of Longinus, instead it was one our Nails… The Nails of Jesus Christ!

Immediately my soul began to separate from my body and I was floating away to… to?

As I felt my true self being torn from this world, my vision shifted back to The Altar.

Bill Bates was there and the figure in white was approaching him from behind.

Finally I could see his face clearly — it was none other than Joseph Ratzinger — Pope Benedict XVI!

Then it was that I made a shocking observation: Joseph was actually carrying The Nails – something no mortal had ever done and lived to tell about it.

Yet the pope was doing it — carefully he took each one and installed them in a glowing new crown – even as Bill Bates was removing his own crown of thorns.

His face a picture of <POWER!>, Bates was glowing with Victory.  Meanwhile, Joseph face showed a sly smile as he lowered the crown filled with our Nails down upon Bates’ head…

<A Blinding Light from Above!>

And the vision expired.

Breathless, I was left with but one thought..

Can it really be true? My God, Pope Benedict will be responsible for the death of Bill Bates!

Wait, which one is The Antichrist?!?

Continue Reading…

1.19 American Idol

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…

Immortality — Ugh (11)

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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