"Bring in the coffin. Let the rite of passage begin."

"Get that fucking coffin away from me. I'm not ready to die. I'm young. I'm innocent. I'm screwed. Can I call my mother?"

You can hear the sound of the coffin nails banging into place. It's dark in here, Tim.

"It's Tuesday morning, and you know what that means. It's time for therapy. Are we in a good mood, Chuck; because we are not going to have another outburst like last week.... I'm sorry that Dr. Plutus cannot be here this morning, his ulcers are bleeding again. The theme this morning is sex. Evidently, there is some confusion about what is real and what are Mann projections from the past and future. So, we will start with a warm up exercise this..... Mr. Ishmael..... Get off the floor and stop trying to look up my dress. That's exactly the kind of behavior I'm talking about. That's third grade sex. Wipe that grin off your face Charles... Yes, Mr. Ishmael. You have your hand up."

"Do they make lead underwear?"

"What kind of question is that? Are you paying attention? Be quiet a minute, all of you... And by the way boys, my name is Nurse Darwin. You may not call me Nancy. Mr. Ishmael, is that clear?

"Yes, Nancy. Sydney said poopy again."

"Never mind Sydney. He doesn't know his ass from a roller coaster. Sydney... Shut up! Sit up straight. Pay attention. We are going to play an adult game called "I take responsibility for my penis."

"My penis has a headache."

"A penis does not get a headache, Charles."

"It can't breathe in the rain hat."

"No Charles, we explained this already. All of you are equipped with penis restraints. Our scientists are working on the problem. Mann glasses can cause over stimulation of the senses. Those are not hats.

"My Johnson has a sweater."

"Did Timothy get his red pill this morning?" What? Charles, you have your hand up?

"Gordon is drooling on his restraints."

"Drooling is Gordon's only talent, leave him alone."

"He might short circuit his wong."

"I don't get paid enough for this, Charles. Get your head out of your pants."

"It's crawling on the fan again."

Settle down Marvin; there is nothing on the fan. What does Psycho have in his mouth?"

"He's sucking on the motion calendar remote! Make him stop! Make him stop!"

"Settle down, Marvin. The remote doesn't control the weather, just the calendar. Get that out of your.... Did you swallow that!?"

"Sydney said poopy."

"I got a fungus or something."

"Somethings crawling on the ceiling!"

"Oh to hell with it. That will be all for today. Put Psycho back in the hole. Put Marvin's head in the ice bag. The rest of you get to play Monopoly again; don't eat any more of the pieces."

"But I want to take responsibility for my penis."

"Shut up, Ishmael. And get your hands out of my personal space."

Dear Steven,

I heard they killed you. I am so sorry.

Before they nailed shut the coffin, I am sure you felt betrayed. You had no idea how much God hates Believers. Let's be clear here, Steven. The second commandment sounds very ungodly, yet it is the most important of the seven. Let me explain.

God did not create Belief. God created Faith. Faith is silent. You cannot argue with Faith. Faith does not understand words or logic. It just stares through you, no matter how red your angry face or how bitter your poison words. There are no wars over Faith; it is impossible.

The Angel of Death created Belief. Belief in God. Belief in Country. Belief, because You are The Chosen One.

The Angel of Death gave men voices inside their heads; voices that lived in the Limbic area of the male human brain and breathed hatred and intolerance into the Words. Then, in a master stroke, he created ten thousand false Gods, twenty thousand countries, and thirty thousands tribes. He told each they were the Chosen Ones and that they must scorn, isolate,and murder the Unchosen. The Angel of Death made this plan and it was evil and it worked in the first century, and it worked in the middle ages, and it worked in the twenty first century, and it works still, long after the Collapse. Belief has dominated God since He laid down the first crab grass.

Believers will kill you if you do not use their Angel of Death terminology. They are Servants of the Devil dressed in their green robes and crowns of thorns. All this evil they do in the name of God, a God who knows they are fools, killers, and Satan's assassins.

And one more thing: be careful around Unbelivers. Those who do not believe in God are also agents of the devil. Unbelief is the flip side of the coin, more useless warlike words. Shut up if you want Faith. The brain is for solving problems like what time is lunch, and are you going to eat that sandwich. You have to shut the brain completely off if you want to be play Monopoly with God. True saints know God's first two commandments and they live faith; they have no time for words or beliefs.

Sorry, Steven, I get carried away and start getting emotional, and then I realize that I have become one of them. I'm going up to the attic and sit in the silent darkness for a few hours. Best of luck with the rebirth thing.

Uncle Joe

In the coffin there is no vision. There is no sound. The body cannot move and the body cannot feel. All of the many you are gone.

Then the coffin opens. Eyes open. Ears open. Fresh air flows in. The skin tingles; a smile crosses the face. There is joy.

Standing outside the coffin looking in, you cannot see the old body; but there are pictures and videos and tape recordings of the many dead you.

The old innocent Ishmael has passed away. A warrior breathes within. And what is this, nailed to the face?

I am wearing the regulation sunglasses, my new Mann Goggles. My consciousness has changed, expanded. I am one death and rebirth closer to the Naw.

The ancestral book, handed down to us from the great Steven Timothy Great Northern Beans Ishmael, does a respectable job with commandment two, although again there is no need for the ambiguity. It is clear what God is telling us. We should also realize that the commandments are linked together; they make little sense unless taken as a set of puzzle pieces that add up to an unexpected whole.

Evil is caused by emotional missiles aimed at unsuspecting heads. Loaded words explode on impact. These warhead words are manufactured in the male limbic center deep inside the brain. The stockpile is built up and armed by reinforcement. Male words have caused worldwide wars. Male words have murdered millions of innocents; eight year old girls on the way to the market, four year old grand children looking at grasshoppers in the backyard.

To combat this enormous evil, men must become aware of how their brains work. They must learn of the limbic regions in their mind. They must learn to watch their minds at work; watch the words form, watch as the words stop by the limbus and load themselves with emotion, and then fire out the mouth with ballistic stupidity.

Then they must understand what it means to be silent and what this has to do with connecting to God.

That is why our ancestors studied the male brain; the Rutherfords, the Wallaces, the Rocketts, the Bellingers, the entire clan learned the praying craft and became silent. You are here my dear relative because your ancestors did not get killed in war.