Arcane Desires

Finally figured out how to use a combination of Renoise and Native Instruments' Massive to produce my first original dubsteppy wobble bass sounds a few months back. Thanks to MusicRadar for the drum samples!

Download the track here.

"Pop Through Busted Speakers"

Play using the stream above, or download the MP3 here.

Tracklist:

1. John Merrik - Ravers Like To Do Drugs
2. Sickboy - High School Musical
3. Squarepusher - Do You Know Squarepusher?
4. Society Suckers - Toxic
5. Helix - Attack
6. Graz - Bobunk Dejabrew

Photo by danielle_blue, used under the CC BY-SA 2.0 license. Art by Kevin Carter using FIGWin, GIMP, and Notepad. Created using Ableton Live 8 and Audacity 1.3.9 beta.

Palm Sunday

Everyone got to church in time for the PowerPoint presentation. Everyone, that is, except for a couple of unlucky stragglers who had to sit in the two front pews as penance for staying up past 9:30 on Saturday night. Those first two pews were damning; not even Pastor Ted Buckley was holy enough to sit there, let alone some lukewarmers that God would spit out of His mouth someday. Andrew Paulson, who had strayed from the flock a few years back, told everyone who would listen that sitting in those pews "is like swimming in God's asshole. It’s as hot as shit, and it lasts forever."

The PowerPoint presentation was remarkable. Steven Dulles, CEO of SD Contracting LLC, had graciously volunteered to "program" it. Church advertisements flooded the projector screen, which rolled down and back up again as if the hand of the Lord Himself guided it. It was like getting there before the movie to see what the next big feature was. The presentation even had animations. One slide announced the all-church picnic next month which featured a tableau of Jesus' tomb, and the next slide came in from the right side of the screen with an announcement about the big youth meeting in North Dakota, On Fire. Until May 1st, On Fire was only $500 plus expenses per young adult. After May 1st, it was $700. The next slide, which employed the fade out technique, gave instructions for corporate sponsorship and tithing of the church. The church was a place of commerce; there was a booth in the foyer specifically designated for church business. At the booth, you could trade money for tokens which could be used inside the church to buy refreshments or toys. Outsiders from the town ecumenical council who had visited the church referred to it as the “money changers table.”

Lester Friedman had tokens flowing out of his pockets with some money in his wallet to spare. Lester was the church's musical director. The church clinic had cured him of homosexuality, cross dressing, and effeminacy three years ago, and he married Lindy Buckley -- the pastor's daughter -- two years ago. Now, he had brainwashed himself. washed that brain until it was milky white, and he geared himself up for singing love songs to God that were catchier than the top 40. He wasn't much of a composer, and he never really understood how to play instruments, but he sang like a meadowlark. He just had to remember what the counselor had taught his class: "Turn off your inner diva, and tune into God!" This was difficult for Lester. He used to play in a piano bar; now he was God’s man, not some fussy, wimpy, lisping, pansy pantyboy. The glitter and the sequins were gone for the most part: glistening, shattered fragments of a distant past. And he liked it better that way. Yes, he liked it better that way, but sometimes it was hard for him to think about the armor of God without picturing an immaculately chain-mailed soldier with the breastplate of righteousness displaying each chiseled muscle. And after the glory of performing, telling his stories and witticisms onstage to a crowd of bears and twinks – yes, it was a difficult transition.

Gary Vandeleer was the pianist, and shared Les’ remarkable Broadway repertoire: his secret and his secret alone. He had beat out Mary Woolridge for the spot on the worship team, mostly because the church believed that women should not lead anything in the church other than bake sales or gossip groups. Gary was the one who knew the high note Lester's voice wavered on. He was the one who had to keep his desire to end each song with jazz hands under wraps, mummified like the body of Lazarus, while Lester paraded up and down the stage. He was the one who had to repeat "all music is for the glory of God" on days when Lester got carried away. Like that day when Lester was in charge of tinseling the Christmas tree outside the church and started prancing around. Gary almost thought about reporting him to Pastor Buckley for effeminate behavior. Gary could barely hold it in; his anger seethed. Why did he have to be the masculine one? Lester got all the glory, with all of his lacy frills and happy pills and off-key trills.

Today was one of those days. That morning, Lester had spoken to the stagehands (known in the Catholic church as altar boys) to have them help him carry out his plan. He wanted to make it a very special Palm Sunday for everyone in the audience, so at the beginning of the set, it was Lester who rigged the boxes above the stage with cross-shaped confetti and glitter. He sprinkled in a few rhinestoned Israeli flags to remind everyone that Christians were now anti-Holocaust. One day, a visitor that everyone knew was drunk of the grapes of the vine had come into the church and asked what why God let the Holocaust happen. Even after Pastor Ted talked to him for a while, he wouldn’t accept that everything was for the glory of God. Pastor Ted guessed that people just couldn’t understand free will without going to seminary.

Lester led the first song as soon as the confetti fell. This is what they sang, to a melody full of warmth and cheer:

"God is good!
All the time!
He put this song of praise!
In this heart of mine!
God is good!
All the time!
And through the darkest night!
His light will shine!

God is good!
He's so good!
God is good!
Oh, so good!
God is good!
He's so good!
All the time!"

Lester unbuttoned his size 54 jacket before the chorus, and the bulge from his stomach unraveled. That was the vice that had controlled his life since his Biblical counseling sessions. Everyone started clapping on the first and third beats of every measure. The particularly dramatic women raised their hands in the air as if to touch the face of God, and husbands and children reluctantly followed. Although the atmosphere was one of praise, the audience knew the liturgy well, and the time to get really intimate with God was during the "Worship" portion of the service, not the "Praise." That came after the greeting routine. Each segment of the service was strictly planned before, and each crew member and performer were given itineraries, like stage hands before a play.

Afterwards, the lights on the stage dimmed for a moment, and the lighting director put the backlights up to reveal the cross at the center of the stage. This was the new cross, purchased a few months ago by the church, and it was backlit and radiant unlike the old wooden one. It revealed the new prosperity of the church, for God rewarded the holy with prosperity, unless he was testing them like Job. For this special Sunday service, the Women’s Group had carefully decorated the stage with lilies, the Christian flag, and an Israeli flag with “Messiah” written in Hebrew under it. Sue Davidson had nailed three palm branches to the cross in symbolic places to augment its radiance. She had tried pushpins first, but the new cross was so resilient that she had to find a hammer to bang the nails into the cross until the head of the nails were flush with the strange plastic substance. It took her a while, but after repeated bangs of the hammer and a sore thumb, everyone agreed that it looked beautiful, and there were a few oohs and ahhs scattered around the audience.

There was a special praise offering from a musical group composed of three of the elders’ daughters afterwards. The group was called Grace Notes, and they performed a song by a contemporary Christian singer. This was controversial. The singer had gotten a divorce from her husband a few years back, and real Christians weren’t supposed to get divorced. Besides that, the singer had just released a love song the congregation thought might be to her new lover instead of Jesus. It was a bold and bohemian move, but the song was orthodox enough that the congregation didn’t seem to mind too much.

Grace Notes performed a pantomime act to the music with costumes. Two of them put on dark robes during a dramatic portion of the song to pose as demons as they pretended to nail the fatter girl wearing white to the cross. Each motion was carefully plotted to sync in time to the rest of the music, and they incorporated sign language into the performance. At the end, the fatter girl was lying down and then sprung back up, punching the demons and knocking them to the floor. The audience applauded. Christy June was so touched by the performance that her mascara smeared all over her face, and she had to use the brand new box of Kleenex that she had bought that morning to clean herself up for the Lord.

After an awkward pause, Pastor Ted and Lester walked up on stage to the sound of applause from the congregation. This was the “Welcome” portion of the service, where Pastor Ted and Lester did what Lester liked to refer to as a “Christian vaudeville routine.”

Pastor Ted began. “Good morning to all of you, God’s beautiful children, and what a blessed morning it is, Amen Les?”

“Amen, pastor,” agreed Lester, “and it is so good to give him praise with the sounds of the piano and the lyre.”

“Oh, Lester,” said Pastor Ted with a chuckle. “More like the liar and the piano, am I right everyone?” The crowd let out a delayed laugh. “And if you liked that lovely performance from the Grace Notes, make sure to come back next week for our passion play, where each of those lovely girls will be playing the townspeople.”

It was time for the sermon. Pastor Ted got up to the podium with his wireless headset mic, and he gave a slightly varied version of the sermon he had given the previous Easter. After he was done, Pastor Ted prayed a prayer which was mostly him talking about how he felt. There were drinks and refreshments in the lobby.

Bud Abbott always wore a blazer, a button-up shirt, and slacks on Sunday mornings. His wife Cindy wore floral prints in spring, modest ankle-length sundresses in summer, leaf prints in fall, and snowman blouses over dark dresses in winter. He was impotent, and she was barren. Through rain, sleet, snow, or gloom of night -- even on the holy day when the post office was closed -- they made the 45 minute drive to Salome Baptist Church.

They were friends with Pastor Buckley, but everyone was friends with Pastor Buckley. Bud always shook his hand at the exit door the firmest out of the entire congregation and told him that the sermon that day "was particularly good today, Pastor Buckley, particularly good." Cindy would smile with her big teeth at Pastor Buckley and say, "God bless you, Pastor."

Pastor Buckley never knew what to say other than "Thank you, Bud" and "God bless you as well, sister." Sister Buckley died years ago. Only a few people knew that her coffin was empty. After three days, she rose again. Pastor Buckley couldn't tell everyone about his wife's resurrection. It was only for the elect to know.

After that, they usually went into the foyer with the Davidsons and Junes and discussed the Davidson and June children. That was what happened this week too. Both Bud and Cindy pretended to be fascinated by Luke's summer camp and Christina's ballet lessons, even though they were all Satanic snot-fingered brats. Then the conversation veered towards church gossip.

"Did you see that Lester Friedman went up for the altar call again this week?" asked Sue Davidson, chuckling mildly. "I think that was the third time this year that he's been born again."

"Hopefully something will change this time around," agreed Christy June, grinning. They all laughed, remembering the days where they used to go up for altar calls every week. Now things were comfortable. Now they knew they were saved once and for all.

A younger couple walked by, and Cindy Abbott called out to them. "Hello, friends!" she cried, her voice raising about three quarters of an octave. "Welcome to the church!"

"Um, thanks," replied the man. "I'm Chris, and this is Norah."

"Hi," said Norah.

"Hello!" shrieked Sue Davidson. "And what's your last name?"

"Uh, Tolling."

"And I'm Norah Paulson."

"Oh," said Sue Davidson. "You're such a lovely couple. Have you gotten one of our welcome packs yet?"

"Yes," said Chris. "Thank you very much."

"Mmm, good," replied Sue Davidson. "Now, are you courting Ms. Paulson, Chris? You both look to be about marrying age!"

Chris laughed. "Oh no, we're just dating."

"Oh," said Sue Davidson. "Oh, I see."

There was a lull in the conversation.

Christy June broke in. "I also heard that Sister Wilminson is in the hospital again."

"Oh Sister Wilminson. She is so strong. Such a woman of the Lord. I really think she is the best epitome of the true Proverbs 31 woman," ventured Ron June.

Christy June agreed. "Yes, such a servant. I think that's what Philip's unspoken was during the service."

Both Chris Tolling and Norah Paulson looked confused. "What do you mean by unspoken?" asked Chris.

Christy June didn't know whether or not he was serious. "Chris, an unspoken request is when a request is too personal to share with the congregation. It's only between that person and God."

Chris was confused. "Then why would you pray for it in front of the whole church?"

This conversation would usually only last for about ten minutes, because Bud had his Sunday school class for next week to prepare for in his office, and Cindy needed to get home to check on the roast. They would usually share a meager kiss goodbye, and Bud would hand her the keys to the station wagon to take home before he went back into Classroom F. Before she left, Cindy would throw that week's rotten apples into the donation box. They were both secretly happy when they got to leave each other.

Good Friday

Beth Lewis was one of those nice-to-be-naughty and naughty-to-be-nice girls. She did a very good job of obeying her parents' commandments about chores and homework, and since they trusted her implicitly, she could get away with murder. Of course she didn't ever actually go so far as to murder anyone, but despite Mr. and Mrs. Lewis' harshness toward her younger brother and sister, Beth had her parents off her back.

She began completely taking advantage of this situation when she met Erica. Erica was one of her witnessing friends now. Because Beth went to public school unlike most of her church friends, many of her classmates hadn't asked Jesus into their hearts yet. Erica was one of them.

Mr. and Mrs. Lewis became worried about Beth's public school friends after they met Erica at the school spelling bee. The first alarm went off in their heads when Beth told them that Erica was only going to be watching the spelling bee instead of participating. Mr. and Mrs. Lewis believed that spelling was paramount in a young Christian girl's life. Without spelling, endlessly drilling long lists of words before the bee, how could any girl learn the self-discipline required to follow Christ's commandments?

The second sign was the layers of Erica's makeup which refused to blend into the rest of her skin. Mrs. Lewis always worried about things like this and complained to the board of elders when Nessa, one of the other girls around Beth's age, started wearing skirts with hemlines above the knees. Mrs. Lewis thought Erica looked like a harlot. Mrs. Lewis thought a lot about sex.

This was one of the few times that Mr. and Mrs. Lewis were concerned, so they decided to talk with Beth about it after the "kids" -- which is what Beth called her brother and sister -- had gone to bed. Mrs. Lewis was especially firm that she didn't "at all very much like Erica," and that she would appreciate it if Beth stopped spending time with her. Mr. Lewis used the "one bad apple" analogy he always used, and Beth was sad that she wouldn't get to see her friend anymore. Beth decided to reference the Great Commission, which Pastor Buckley had given his sermon about that Sunday. Beth plaintively asked her parents, "Doesn't Jesus want us to witness to people who don't know about him?" After that, her parents couldn't protest. They felt guilty enough for not giving to the panhandling missionary that morning and gave Beth a hug and a kiss for being such a good girl. Apparently, some small part of them realized that building an insular community which was based on isolating members from the world was antithetical to their god's teaching.

There were PG-13 movies at Erica's house. There were even some rated R movies. Beth was never allowed to watch PG-13 movies, even though she was 13, and her parents even stopped her from watching some PG movies. It was usually only the PG movies with sex in them, though. Beth's parents didn't care about her watching violent movies-- I mean, that was just people killing other people. People having sex with other people was the dangerous thing. After watching a few of the movies geared towards the 13-18 marketing segment, Beth started to think that Erica's house might be heaven. This went on for a few months. About every other week, Beth would ask permission to sleep over and watch another romantic teen comedy, feeling secretly dirty and simultaneously thrilled at engaging in this kind of anathematic behavior.

One night, Erica said that she had found a copy of a porno movie in her parents' room when they were upstate the weekend before. Porno movies were for perverts. Beth knew that. She used to read about X-rated movies which changed to NC-17 later on. She read about them in a big film review book her parents kept in the family room. After she confused Felix the Cat with Fritz the Cat in a conversation with her dad, the book disappeared.

"I don't think we should watch this," said Beth. "Porn is for pervs like Jimmy McFall." Jimmy was one of the froggy kids in their class who always smelled weird. Even though cooties were long forgotten about by the time sixth grade rolled around, Jimmy still had cooties.

Erica wasn't convinced. "You're such a prude, Beth. It's just a movie."

Beth didn't know what to do. She was curious, but she remembered what her mom had said about curiosity. It killed her cat Speckles. Speckles was the tabby Beth got as a present from her parents when she was 8, and Speckles died after an ill-fated jump off of their roof. Curiosity was bad.

Beth thought about what her Sunday School teacher Mr. Abbott had taught her about resisting temptation the year before. Mr. Abbott said to always think about Jesus all the time, every second, and everything would be okay.

"C'mon, I'm putting the DVD in now. It's not even one of the hardcore ones. It's just like a Skinemax."

Beth replied, "Erica, I'm going into the other room. I'm sorry, but I'm a Christian, and I don't think I should watch it. Jesus wouldn't want me to do this.”

"Jesus wouldn't want you to do this? What, is Jesus your boyfriend?"

"No, he's not my boyfriend!" shout-whispered Beth. “He is so much more important than a boyfriend could ever be to me.”

At that moment, Beth got an idea. Mr. Abbott told her in a private conversation that if she was being tempted by boys, it was especially important to think about Jesus. That way, even if she was ever raped or succumbed to temptation before she was married, she would be thinking about Jesus, and He would make it okay. Beth thought for another second about what Mr. Abbott did after that, and how it made it all okay.

"He's not my boyfriend," said Beth again. "But He loves me like a boyfriend would love me. Like the best boyfriend."

"I bet you wish you could make out with Jesus, don't you?" prodded Erica, laughing.

"Sometimes when I think about doing things like this, I think about Him instead." Erica started giggling madly. Was she talking too much? Beth's parents told her to try to witness at every given opportunity, and this was the perfect opportunity. “He wants me to feel good, but He doesn’t want me to do bad things to feel good. What's so funny?" Beth was embarrassed. Mr. Abbott had told her that was the right thing to do, and that if she was tempted about boys, she should touch herself and think about Jesus instead. Was that wrong?

Erica kept laughing. "Jesus is dead, Beth! He can't be your boyfriend. Plus, that's just weird. You're a person, and he's, well... he's a god!"

"It isn't weird," protested Beth. "Don't you think he's handsome?"

"Well sure he's handsome, but you're missing the point.”

Beth was wearing pumpkin pajamas. Erica was wearing an orange top with black sweatpants.

"Watch," said Beth. "I'll show you." Beth started rubbing herself through her PJs. She looked at Erica until Erica started doing the same thing. Beth closed her eyes, moved her bottom lip to one side, and bit it. “Oh God,” she said. “Oh my God.” Beth opened her eyes for a minute, realizing that she wasn’t alone this time, and asked, “Do you know why whenever you watch a movie and people are having sex, they always say God or Jesus?”

Erica didn’t know.

Beth said, “It’s because they realize that only God or Jesus could make them feel that good. But sometimes, if they’re not married and they’re cheating on their husband or wife, it’s just Satan tricking them into thinking that they’re feeling good when they’re feeling spiritually empty. That’s what my teacher says. Erica, I don’t want to watch the movie. But if you have these kind of feelings, there is a right way for you to express them. That’s what Mr. Abbott told me. He gave me this.” Beth went over to her backpack and pulled out a white pocket copy of the New Testament. The pages were slightly frayed, and “New Testament: New International Version” was imprinted on the cover in gold. “Mr. Abbott, my Sunday school teacher, gave this to me. He told me that the best way to keep temptation away from you is to keep the Word of God close. And this is as close as Jesus can get to you.”

Beth started to rub her clit with the soft cover of her pocket New Testament. The spine poked its way into the creases. Beth licked her lips and whispered, “I want to know you more, Jesus. I want you feel you closer to me.”

“What the hell are you doing, Beth?” Erica shout-whispered. “You’re so fucked up, I can’t believe this. This is so fucked up.” Erica ran up the stairs to her bedroom.

“Erica, wait! I want to show you this. I want to show you how good this can feel when you do it right, when you do it in a holy way!” Beth was afraid for a moment that Erica would get her parents and have them come down. But she knew God would protect her. She knew God wouldn’t let them come down.

“Lord Jesus, you make me feel so good.” With two fingers inside herself and one hand stroking herself with the white book, Beth started to envision crosses with her eyes closed, brown crosses floating in her imagination and Jesus standing naked before her. “I want your love, Jesus, I want you to come into my heart. I beg for you to come into my heart!” She came hard on the carpet, and then she rested in her pumpkin pajamas on the floor, waiting for her savior to come again.

Sleepy Saturday

Everyone was asleep in the neighborhood. Everyone slept late on Sleepy Saturday. Everyone except for Mr. Abbott. Mr. Abbott used this as his morning quiet time. There were too many human distractions throughout the day, and it was vital for Mr. Abbott to wade through each distraction until he reached the point that Christ alone was his sole thought. That was the only way to truly understand the divine revelations and esoterica. That along with the sacrament.

Mr. Abbott knew that Salvinorin A was the secret communion bread which Christ Himself served to his disciples during the Last Supper. He knew this with certainty. How did Mr. Abbott know that Salvinorin A was the secret communion bread of Christ? It was because Christ Himself told Mr. Abbott that it was. Mr. Abbott and Christ had a special relationship. Mr. Abbott would talk to Christ directly at many points during the day. When there was a traffic jam and Mr. Abbott had to get to work on time, Mr. Abbott prayed for Christ to take away enough traffic to help him get there before Lester caught him. When Mr. Abbott got to work on time, he praised God. When he couldn’t get to work on time, with horrible Satanic cars in front of him, he knew that he had sinned and had to ask Christ for atonement. Mr. Abbott sometimes heard Christ call him Bud. It was a private joke between them. Since Mr. Abbott’s first name was Bud, he knew that he was Christ’s buddy. His Bud, His servant, doing his will upon Earth the best way he knew how. He knew this through faith, through not letting any stray thought distract him from his path.

Mr. Abbott had been reading too, and his readings confirmed what he knew was Christ’s will. Just to make sure he wasn’t being fooled by one of Satan’s tricks, he knew to test each spirit that spoke to him in his mind. He remembered 1 John 4:1-3: "Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God; because many false prophets have gone out into the world. By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God; and every spirit that does not confess Jesus is not from God; and this is the spirit of the antichrist, of which you have heard that it is coming, and now it is already in the world." Mr. Abbott knew that because this spirit confessed that Jesus Christ is from God and actually said it was Jesus, it had to be Jesus according to John’s test. And if this spirit had told him that Salvinorin A was the hidden Communion bread, then that meant Jesus had to help him make it. When those bad spirits came, the ones who told him that he was wrong and Christianity wasn’t true, he knew it was the spirit of the antichrist.

Mr. Abbott had done his research, and he had created a lab in what used to be the guest bedroom. It was nothing as extravagant as he had wanted, but he knew the Lord commanded to make use of what you have, so he went to work anyway. He had done many extractions in his lab, and by now, he had it down to a science.

The first step was to crush the salvia divinorum leaves and put them in a cup. He had a coffee cup with a Promise Keepers logo on it. Promise Keepers is a men’s only organization devoted to ensuring the primacy of man in a family’s spiritual world. As St. Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 14:34-35, “As in all the congregations of the saints, women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak, but must be in submission, as the Law says. If they want to inquire about something, they should ask their own husbands at home; for it is disgraceful for a woman to speak in the church.” It was right for men to be the head of their households, because the head of every man is Christ, the head of the woman is the man, and the head of Christ is God. Mrs. Abbott understood this too. It had taken a few years to convince her, but after enough scriptural research on the issue, Mr. Abbott had complete dominance over his household. He made the decisions, he made the Abbotts’ schedule, and he alone ruled the house with deference to his beloved God. That is why he chose the Promise Keepers mug to make his tincture. That is why he could make Mrs. Abbott eat the holy sacred Communion bread. He alone knew the secret. He was a prophet, just as Ezekiel was a prophet, seeing the unknown and infinite.

The second step of making the extract, the purest form of Salvinorin A, was pouring acetone on each leaf as a solvent. After doing this, it was important to wash the leaves with a solvent twice more. That way, any chemicals outside of the element – any that strayed from the path of pure Salvinorin – would be flushed out. They would be cast away life chaff from grain.

After this process, it was Mr. Abbott’s duty to combine the solvent and comb through it to discover any stray particles. As he weeded out the unholy and concentrated the holy into one simultaneously fluid and solid creation, the room was filled with smoke from the burning of holy incense that Mr. Abbott breathed through his nostrils. It was three in one, just as the Trinity was three in one. God showed his continuous symbology through mysterious ways, and this was one such way. The Trinity was explained to Mr. Abbott once as being like water. God, Christ, and the Holy Spirit are just as water vapor, liquid water, and ice are one. They are composed of the same material. They are three in one. He contemplated this for a moment, and blessed God for the occult information which was bestowed upon him alone. No one else truly appreciates the sacrament, thought Mr. Abbott. It is known only to me. They gulp down their wafer crumbs and drink their peasant fruit juice or spoiled grapes, but I am the beholder of the divine secret, by the power of the Lord Jesus Christ.

He thought of the mysteries that would be unlocked in the children’s minds as they tasted his special mixture for the first time. He would disguise it, of course. That way, the impure in the church who had not been prepared for God’s secret knowledge would be content in their ignorance. He knew the proper mask, the necessary façade that would let them taste of the Communion without influence from the evil spirits. How much the children were sure to appreciate his gift! They would thank him for showing them the light, and upon the realization of God’s spirit, someone’s life was never the same again. They would not return to their worldly ways. Everything will work out nicely, thought Mr. Abbott.

Next, the tannin particles which were part of the mixture needed to be filtered out. The sedimentary element of the tannin, the fine brown, was removed. This process supposedly took about 12 hours, but Mr. Abbott had gotten a message from God that it shouldn’t take any more than a few moments due to His power. If God could make the sun stand still in the sky like he did for Joshua, surely such a minor miracle as this would be possible.

Mr. Abbott thought about how his life would have been different if he would have received one of these divine transmissions when he was still in Sunday School. Surely, things would have been different. He might have been exalted on a throne, high above the Babylon which surrounded him. As he was stirring, he reminded himself that it was not God’s will for Samuel to be king, but for Saul. There were so many things going on in Mr. Abbott’s mind. Sometimes he thought for a moment that it was God’s voice that was telling him things, but sometimes he found later that it wasn’t God’s voice at all.

He put a fan in front of the mug, trying to get the mixture to evaporate more quickly. This was wise thinking. The liquid began burning at about 150 degrees.

Mr. Abbott began having a vision. He was excited; they usually didn’t come on this quickly when he was just breathing the incense. Sometimes it caused him to tremor and for his body to boil up. That was what he called the holy hot to himself. No one that he had ever spoken to about the holy hot seemed to know what he was talking about. Perhaps he was the first one in history to feel it. Certainly, this sort of feeling will be recognized in future epistles, future letters to the church which will be deemed in accordance with the perfect divine will, thought Mr. Abbott.

He thought about Beth. What a wonderful wife she would make some man, if only she were blessed by the sacred Communion. This would only be a process of a few months, perhaps. A regular dosage of Mr. Abbott’s tincture when finished was easily enough to set someone’s mind upon heavenly things. Maybe he could recommend to Beth’s parents that she needed additional spiritual training. They would certainly agree to something that would be for the good of their child. Then he could train her in the ways of the Lord without fear of unnecessary interference. This would be perfect. She was so young but so mature. What a Proverbs 31 woman she would make.

Isopropanol was needed to perform the next step of the extraction. Mr. Abbott thought for a moment. This was the contemplative part of the procedure. For all of this work, I hope the students appreciate it. There was the naphtha next and washing the chlorophyll and at this point, the steps all ran together. He trusted God for this part, because God was the one who really knew what the best way to make his Communion was. Mr. Abbott was just the messenger. Mr. Abbott was just his servant.

Easter Sunday

It was the first day of small groups for this year, and Mr. Abbott smiled like a gargoyle. If you haven't been to Salome Baptist before, you wouldn't know about the gargoyles. When the church built the new building, the chief architect had slipped the gargoyles into the blueprint at the last minute. It wasn't approved by Pastor Buckley or the board of elders. Too Catholic. There was something that bothered Pastor Buckley about them too. One year he had gone up on the roof himself to chip away at them with a broken piece of metal, but God had told him to get down from the roof before he fell. And so the gargoyles still sat at the top of the building, paralyzed by the cross on the steeple. They were paralyzed, but they were also gory and monstrous, glorified terrors under the command of the most High.

There was reason behind Mr. Abbott's smile. With each new class that walked through the door, the first thing Mr. Abbott did was train his flock to stand up at the exact moment he walked through the classroom door. He said that it was a matter of showing respect for him, and he marched the kids out of the door and back in again if not everyone stood up at the moment he entered. This happened until everyone had it just right. Every year, there were always a few sprinkled around the room who couldn't get it until the 4th or 5th try. They were the ones who were lost in thoughts of football practice the next day, the friend's birthday party that afternoon, or their latest videogame save point.

At this point Mr. Abbott said, "I can keep doing this all day until everyone stands at the same time." He said it so kindly that it made the kids hurt. After that, everyone got it.

But Mr. Abbott was not a cruel master. Beth Lewis, one of the girls in his class last year, had even requested to be in the class again this year. She told her parents that she had learned so much the year before, and Mr. Abbott agreed that it would be good to have one of his prior students in the class again to act as a good example for this year. Before the class, he promised Beth that he would give her the special titles of "Line Leader" and "Prayer Warrior." Beth was one of his special students. He had had a lot of students like Beth, and he still sent some of them cute e-mails with dancing animals and notes about the coolest new Christian rock music. He knew they liked that kind of stuff.

Beth was special, though. He could already see that she was beginning to blossom sexually. In fact, he had told her that it was her duty as a woman to submit to God first, and then to submit to man. It was very important that she did not become a traitor to the hierarchy God had so carefully set up for society. Men received their instruction from God, and women received their instruction from men. Mr. Abbott enjoyed instructing Beth. He hoped that their relationship could continue to grow to help Beth’s eyes become as open to the spiritual world as physically possible.

Mr. Abbott gave his pupils gummi worms at the start of each lesson. Mrs. Abbott always bought the generic store brand to show she was frugal and a good homemaker. The kids never noticed that they were generic. They never noticed this or what Mr. Abbott did on the nights before service. Mr. Abbott used to be a chemistry teacher before he started working in the church front office, and he knew a lot about chemistry. There was a very special chemical that he and only a few other people knew about that was called Salvinorin A. Mr. Abbott decided a few years before that he wanted his class and his class alone to have a very special treat. He did a lot of other kinds of grown-up stuff on nights before the services that kids didn't know about.

Now some men and women are also interested in chemicals, but they are bad people, because they took chemicals that they weren't supposed to. These kinds of chemicals are called illegal chemicals. They make people go crazy. But Mr. Abbott's chemical was very legal and a very good chemical. It made people closer to God. He knew the children would like this chemical.

The chemical was called Salvinorin A. Mr. Abbott knew lots about the chemical. For instance, he knew that the molecular formula was C₂₃H₂₈O₈ and its molar mass was 432.464. He also knew, of course, that it was a selective kappa opioid receptor agonist. It was very difficult to synthesize, and Mr. Abbott spent many hours on it in his homemade lab. Not even Mrs. Abbott really knew how he did it. Mrs. Abbott didn't like to take this chemical. She said it made her go bonkers. But Mr. Abbott would sometimes take the chemical and then read the newspaper. He thought it made him understand the newspaper better, as long as the noises weren't there when he took it. Mr. Abbott decided that he was going to put some of the chemical in that day. It would be a very small amount of the chemical, but a little of the chemical could go a long way! He decided he would put about 1500 micrograms in each gummi worm to give the pupils a special surprise. That sounds like a lot of micrograms, but it is actually a very small amount of the chemical.

It was time for Mr. Abbott to pass out the gummi worms to the class. He was a funny teacher, and when it came time for Beth Lewis to get her gummi worm, he dangled it in front of her lips instead of handing it to her. Mr. Abbott watched as Beth slurped the neon green and yellow gummi worm into her tart, pink mouth, and everyone else laughed.

After passing out the gummi worms, Mr. Abbott began the lesson for the week. The lesson he had picked for today would be the parable of the sheep and the goats that Jesus had preached. Mr. Abbott had a sticky board in front of the class, and it was helpful for him to instruct the children by using pictures to spark their imaginations.

Mr. Abbott began the lesson by talking about how one day, Jesus will be on the throne in front of the whole world. At that moment, He would separate the sheep from the goats. Mr. Abbott read this part from the Bible to give it further emphasis. He had a great Bible reading voice; Mrs. Abbott said that was one of the things which attracted her the most to him. When Mr. Abbott read the Bible, he believed everything he was reading.

“Matthew 25, verses 32 and 33,” said Mr. Abbott, with a televangelist’s sense of elocution and timing. “And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats: And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left.” Mr. Abbott stuck a flock of sheep on the right side of the throne, which had no one sitting on it in the drawing, and a single lone goat on the left side of him. He had forgotten that from the perspective of the throne looking out at the sheep and the goats, the sheep would be on the right, and the goats would be on the left. It was a silly mistake; left was right and right was left.

Jordan Peters raised his hand high in the air, and Mr. Abbott called on him. “Yes, you, in the purple sweater,” said Mr. Abbott, a little upset that he had been interrupted so soon into his sermon.

Jordan, one of the younger students in the small group, said that he had gone on a field trip with his class to a farm, and they had gotten to pet a goat while they were there. Before Mr. Abbott had a chance to respond, a few of Jordan’s friends said, “Cooool!”

Mr. Abbott decided to bring everyone’s attention back to the lesson by skipping the part about the sheep and going right to the goats. “No, Jordan,” said Mr. Abbott, smiling condescendingly. “Goats are an accursed animal of God. In church history, we read that in the Middle Ages, goats used to talk, and they used to whisper horrible things in the ears of saints at night. Here is what Jesus has to say to the goats.” Mr. Abbott found his place in the Bible again.

“Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels: For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not. Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee? Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal.”

After the reading, Mr. Abbott noticed the shift in the first few students he had given the worms to. This was the first phase of the homoousias, the period of revelation, when each of the children would begin to receive the prophecies from God. Even though the 1500 mg dosage he had put into the worms was typically an adult dosage, he knew that these children of God were responsible enough in the spirit to receive a testimony from the Most High. Their eyes began to shift, and Jordan and some of the others began to talk in a strange way. That’s how Mr. Abbott knew that the communion was taking place. Some of the children began to speak in what Mr. Abbott regarded as the angelic tongue, a language which could only be translated by the Holy Spirit. In fact, Mr. Abbott knew that there were many angelic tongues, many different languages. The cherubim spoke differently than the seraphim, but each was understandable to the other. Mr. Abbott did not speak like the angels; he spoke in the tongue of God. That way, he could avoid being tempted against revolution in heaven just as the Light-Bearer was. But children like Jordan were beginning to babble; when someone received the sacrament who was not ready to become one flesh with God, they began to speak in the unholy language that the builders of the tower spoke in before God confused their languages. This worried Mr. Abbott. It worried Jordan too. Jordan began crying out, “I don’t want to be a goat! Goats are bad! Goats have horns just like the Devil!” Jordan was worried. Mr. Abbott saw that some of the other children were getting worried about Jordan, and they looked confused too. Mr. Abbott wasn’t sure what to do.

But some of the children were speaking so beautifully. Their visions had obviously been guided by God. They were bowing down to God, prostrated in a beautiful deference. Their eyes had been opened, and they were responding in the way which all men should: with an overwhelmed soul. Some of their visions were shining brightly; Beth’s in particular was. But he needed them to be quiet for a moment. Mr. Abbott thought.

“Children, you remember naptime in preschool, don’t you? Everyone needs to lie down just like naptime in preschool. We’ve already had snacks, and that means it’s now time for you to rest and concentrate on listening to the Bible story I’m telling you. Everyone needs to be quiet right now.”

It took them a while, but thanks to the example of most of the children who were still lucid, the whole room was lying on their backs in just a few moments. As each one started to lie down, Mr. Abbott started to compose a poem in his mind. He had always considered himself a man of poesy before science, and the composition began:

The elation of being preferred to the doing:
Apocryphal streams of the phoenix's cooing
eclipse all the essences yet to be named
and the opal-eyed tigers still yet to be tamed.

The images were beautiful. They reminded him of Dali before Dali had gone wrong with his absurd worldliness. He thanked his Heavenly Father for the words and began to tell the story to the children again.

“The goats are disgusting, aren’t they children? You don’t want to be a goat, do you? They eat the grass, they fight each other with their horrible horns.” Mr. Abbott had eaten three of the gummi worms a few minutes before, just to ensure that he would have the fullest spirit of Communion possible, and he was seeing a brilliant light in his eyelid visions. “They are some of the dirtiest and stubbornest animals in the world. You want to be like sheep, don’t you?”

Most of the children were silent, remembering the command to be quiet, but some said “Yes!”

Mr. Abbott responded to the good children with a smile. “That’s right, children. Sheep are beautiful animals, and they are God’s creatures. They do not know where they are being led, but they obediently follow the shepherd’s commands. We are all members of God’s faithful flock. And any sheep who strays from the flock, God tells us he will leave the 99 sheep who are in the pasture until he finds the lost sheep. So now, you know that if you ever stray and try to become a goat, God will hunt you down and bring you back to the fold in his loving arms.” Mr. Abbott was surprised at his own eloquence; surely he was being guided by the spirit, as he was usually reluctant to talk and share the visions that he received from God with others for fear that they would succumb to demon gossip and spread horrible rumors about him.”

Illusion precludes all the meaning, it seems,
and fastens us now to the harbinger's dreams.
Until the webbed audience all takes a bow,
we must live in the present, the here and the now.

Mr. Abbott thought it was time for a song. He grabbed the guitar that sat in the corner of the meeting room and began playing. It was difficult for him at first; unfortunately, God had never bestowed him with the gift of music, probably to ensure that his ego would not prevent him from being a careful follower. Music was the trap that ensnared so many. It could drive demons out like David drove Saul’s demons out, but it could also be used as an egocentric tool of evil. After a few tries, he got the chords down to the song.

“Sing with me, children!”

“I don’t want to be a hypocrite
I don’t want to be a hypocrite,
‘cause a hypocrite ain’t hip with it!
I don’t want to be a hypocrite.”

Mr. Abbott repeated the verse again so the children could hear it. It was call and response, and they didn’t understand that. So he guided them through it a third time, until their voices weakly began repeating his own.

“I don’t want to be a Sadducee
I don’t want to be a Sadducee
‘cause a Sadducee is sad, you see!
I don’t want to be a Sadducee.”

“Better, children! Keep going!” said Mr. Abbott with an encouraging tone. Some of their voices started to get stronger on the second verse, and Mr. Abbott began laughing at the thought of the absurd pun.

“I don’t want to be a goat, nope.
I don’t want to be a goat, nope.
‘Cause a goat just wants to mope, yep!
I don’t want to be a goat, nope.

I just want to be a sheep, baa.
I just want to be a sheep, baa.
‘Cause a sheep can go to sleep, baa!
I just want to be a sheep, baa.

I just want to be a sheep, baa.
I just want to be a sheep, baa.
‘Cause a sheep can go to sleep, baa!
I just want to be a sheep, baa.”

Just reaching the perch of the talented foes
who elude the phenomenal cancer which grows
under each speck of flesh on your arms and your legs.
You must pull yourself out from the chasm's cold dregs.

After the song, some of the children started to come to their senses. Mr. Abbott thought of them as beautiful dreams; it was the cosmic consciousness taking a hold of his mind and teaching it transcendency. He started walking around the room and guiding the children through their visions. Jordan and his friend Nick were having a difficult time. They should have known better than to join a small group if they were not committed Christians yet. Eating of the pure Communion bread was a blessing for the saved and a nightmare for the unsaved. They probably witnessed the horrors of hell, and now due to their ignorance, Mr. Abbott had to guide them through the trip.

“I just want to be a sheep,” cried Jordan. “I just want to be a sheep, not a goat. I don’t like goats anymore, but they keep coming into my head and it’s like they’re ramming me with their horns! And I feel like I’m being pulled to the left! I feel like somebody’s pulling me to the left.”

Demonic possession,”thought Mr. Abbott. It was the one thing that could cause people to feel that they were being pulled by a force outside of the Heavenly Father’s. Damn them.

Mr. Abbott began casting the demon out of Jordan, and as soon as Nick started crying, he casted the demon out of Nick too. “By the power of Jesus Christ, I cast you out! I cast out the demons of jealousy, avarice, sexual sin, and all moral depravity! There will be no goats from this room on the Judgment Day!” shouted Mr. Abbott, getting annoyed. “All will be saved by the power of Christ Jesus!”

Some of the children started screaming “Jesus!” and hugging each other while they cried. Mr. Abbott had read about things like this happening during the Second Reformation. Jonathan Edwards led prayer groups through acceptance of the Spirit, and entire rooms began to quake. This was a new reformation. This was a reclaiming of God’s church as it was meant to be, directed by Bud Abbott, accepting his Holy Communion.

The children sat in a circle after some of the chaos had settled. Mr. Abbott told the children that they had been touched by the Holy Spirit, and he went around the circle asking each child what their experience had been like.

Faster the passages twirl in their swirl
and the whirl echoes down to each boy and each girl.

BUD ABBOTT ALWAYS WORE A BLAZER, a button-up shirt, and slacks on Sunday mornings. His wife Cindy wore floral prints in spring, modest ankle-length sundresses in summer, leaf prints in fall, and snowman blouses over dark dresses in winter. He was impotent, and she was barren. Through rain, sleet, snow, or gloom of night -- even on the holy day when the post office was closed -- they made the 45 minute drive to Salome Baptist Church.

They were friends with Pastor Buckley, but everyone was friends with Pastor Buckley. Bud always shook his hand at the exit door the firmest out of the entire congregation and told him that the sermon that day "was particularly good today, Pastor Buckley, particularly good." Cindy would smile with her big teeth at Pastor Buckley and say, "God bless you, Pastor."

Pastor Buckley never knew what to say other than "Thank you, Bud" and "God bless you as well, sister." Sister Buckley died years ago. Only a few people knew that her coffin was empty. After three days, she rose again. Pastor Buckley couldn't tell everyone about his wife's resurrection. It was only for the elect to know.

After that, they usually went into the foyer with the Davidsons and Junes and discussed the Davidson and June children. That was what happened this week too. Both Bud and Cindy pretended to be fascinated by Luke's summer camp and Christina's ballet classes, even though they were all Satanic snot-fingered brats. Then the conversation veered towards church gossip.

"Did you see that Lester Gilmore went up for the altar call again this week?" asked Sue Davidson, chuckling mildly. "I think that was the third time this year that he's been born again."

"Hopefully something will change this time around," agreed Christy June, grinning. They all laughed, remembering the days where they used to go up for altar calls every week. Now things were comfortable. Now they knew they were saved once and for all.

A younger couple walked by, and Cindy Abbott called out to them. "Hello, friends!" she cried, her voice raising about three quarters of an octave. "Welcome to the church!"

"Um, thanks," replied the man. "I'm Chris, and this is Norah."

"Hi," said Norah.

"Hello!" shrieked Sue Davidson. "And what's your last name?"

"Uh, Tolling."

"And I'm Norah Paulson."

"Oh," said Sue Davidson. "You're such a lovely couple. Have you gotten one of our welcome packs yet?"

"Yes," said Chris. "Thank you very much."

"Mmm, good," replied Sue Davidson. "Now, are you courting Ms. Paulson, Chris? You both look to be about marrying age!"

Chris laughed. "Oh no, we're just dating."

"Oh," said Sue Davidson. "Oh, I see."

There was a lull in the conversation.

Christy June broke in. "I also heard that Sister Wilminson is in the hospital again."

"Oh Sister Wilminson. She is so strong. Such a woman of the Lord. I really think she is the best epitome of the true Proverbs 31 woman," ventured Ron June.

Christy June agreed. "Yes, such a servant. I think that's what Philip's unspoken was during the service."

Both Chris Tolling and Norah Paulson looked confused. "What do you mean by unspoken?" asked Chris.

Christy June didn't know whether or not he was serious. "Chris, an unspoken request is when a request is too personal to share with the congregation. It's only between that person and God."

Chris was confused. "Then why would you pray for it in front of the whole church?"

This conversation would usually only last for about ten minutes, because Bud had his Sunday school class to teach, and Cindy needed to get home to check on the roast. They would share a meager kiss goodbye, and Bud would hand her the keys to the station wagon to take home before he went back into Classroom F. Before she left, Cindy would throw that week's rotten apples into the donation box. They were both secretly happy when they got to leave each other.

IT WAS THE FIRST DAY OF SMALL GROUPS for this year, and Mr. Abbott smiled like a gargoyle. If you haven't been to the Abbotts' church before, you wouldn't know about the gargoyles. When the church built the new building, the chief architect had slipped the gargoyles into the blueprint at the last minute. It wasn't approved by Pastor Buckley or the board of elders. Too Catholic. There was something that bothered Pastor Buckley about them too. One year he had gone up on the roof himself to chip away at them with a broken piece of metal, but God had told him to get down from the roof before he fell. And so the gargoyles still sat at the top of the building, paralyzed by the cross on the steeple. They were paralyzed, but they were also gory and monstrous, glorified terrors under the command of the most High.

There was reason behind Mr. Abbott's smile. With each new class that walked through the door, the first thing Mr. Abbott did was to train his flock to stand up at the exact moment he walked through the classroom door. He said that it was a matter of showing respect for him, and he marched the kids out of the door and back in again if not everyone stood up at the moment he entered. This happened until everyone had it just right. Every year, there were always a few sprinkled around the room who couldn't get it until the 4th or 5th try. They were the ones who were lost in thoughts of football practice the next day, the friend's birthday party that afternoon, or their latest videogame save point.

At this point Mr. Abbott said, "I can keep doing this all day until everyone stands at the same time." He said it so kindly that it made the kids hurt. After that, everyone got it.

BUT MR. ABBOTT WASN'T A CRUEL MASTER. Beth Lewis, one of the girls in his class last year, had even requested to be in the class again this year. She told her parents that she had learned so much the year before, and Mr. Abbott agreed that it would be good to have one of his prior students in the class again to act as a good example for this year. Before the class, he promised Beth that he would give her the special titles of "Line Leader" and "Prayer Warrior." Beth was one of his special students. He had a lot of students like Beth, and he still sent some of them cute e-mails with dancing animals and notes about the coolest new Christian rock music. He knew they liked that kind of stuff.

Mr. Abbott gave his pupils gummi worms at the start of each lesson. Mrs. Abbott always bought the generic store brand to show she was frugal and a good homemaker. The kids never noticed that they were generic. They never noticed this or what Mr. Abbott did on the nights before service. Mr. Abbott used to be a chemistry teacher before he started working in the church front office, and he knew a lot about chemistry. There was a very special chemical that he and only a few other people knew about that was called Salvinorin A. Mr. Abbott decided a few years before that he wanted his class and his class alone to have a very special treat. He did a lot of other kinds of grown-up stuff on nights before the services that kids didn't know about.

Now some men and women are also interested in chemicals, but they are bad people, because they took chemicals that they weren't supposed to. These kinds of chemicals are called illegal chemicals. They make people go crazy. But Mr. Abbott's chemical was very legal and a very good chemical. It made people closer to God. He knew the children would like this chemical.

The chemical was called Salvinorin A. Mr. Abbott knew lots about the chemical. For example, he knew that the molecular formula was C₂₃H₂₈O₈ and its molar mass was 432.464. He also knew, of course, that it was a selective kappa opioid receptor agonist. It was very difficult to synthesize, and Mr. Abbott spent many hours on it in his homemade lab. Not even Mrs. Abbott really knew how he did it. Mrs. Abbott didn't like to take this chemical. She said it made her go bonkers. But Mr. Abbott would sometimes take the chemical and then read the newspaper. He thought it made him understand the newspaper better, as long as the noises weren't there when he took it. Mr. Abbott decided that he was going to put some of the chemical in that day. It would be a very small amount of the chemical, but a little of the chemical could go a long way! He decided he would put about 1500 micrograms in each gummi worm to give the pupils a special surprise. That sounds like a lot of micrograms, but it is actually a very small amount of the chemical.

It was time for Mr. Abbott to pass out the gummi worms to the class. He was a funny teacher, and when it came time for Beth Lewis to get her gummi worm, he dangled it in front of her lips instead of handing it to her. Mr. Abbott watched as Beth slurped the neon green and yellow gummi worm into her tart, pink mouth, and everyone else laughed.