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Filipina Did ‘Stop The Pope’

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by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Glyzelle Palomar,12, a Filipina street child managed to “Stop The Pope” with one question.

For five days, Pope Francis I got treated like “God On Earth.”

“God On Earth”

The pope’s every whim was catered to. People rushed to be in the pope’s presence. Whether “He” opened his mouth to yawn or speak people rushed to hear every word. Every sentence he spoke was taken down and “Worshiped” as “Gospel” and “Holy Truth.”

The Pope didn’t sing one note like a rock star and, yet, the “Groupies” and “Faith Fools” lined the streets.

The Pope did not “Walk On Water” and had to wear a yellow poncho in the rain because raindrops still fell on his tall, fat, old body.

The Pope did not “Raise Anyone From The DEAD” — “No Lazarus Productions.” People in the Philippines still “Died” with “The Old Holy Faker” in country.

The Pope did a Mass for “The Super Typhoon Yolanda Dead” and all the “DEAD” bodies remained asleep in the earth. No one arose.

TV cameras were trained on the pope and the graves, so it would of been obvious if anyone began to dig their way out of their graves; they did not.

Alas, Lazarus was a “No Show” for “The Power Of The Pope.”

The Pope did not “Part The Pacific Ocean” to walk from Leyte back to Luzon and into Manila. Typhoon Amang actually cut “The Pope’s Visit” to Tacloban City short, so that he had to fly back to Manila.

The Pope who is “On The Record” as supporting “Exorcists” in “The Church” didn’t use any of his time to “Exorcise” a single evil entity in a nation were the culture is rich in stories of Satan and his legions of monsterous demons, devils and denizens.

The Pope did not “Exorcise” a single demon, devil or possessed person in the Philippines, during his visit.

I feel wonderful, incidentally, “Thank You” for asking.

For all Pope Dope’s prayers, “Signs Of The Cross” gestures, “Blessings,” communion wafers and passing out of “Holy Water”, I did experience some “Disgust “ that so many people could be so “Stupid” to believe in the old fool so completely.

However, now, that Pope Dope has flown his holy hind end back to Rome — I feel fine. “Thank you.”

The 21st Century Holy Men just are not as impressive as the “Old Fictional Holy Men Of The Holy Bible.”

Still, the phony Holy Men Of The 21st Century still have “The Personality Power” to turn large numbers of people : “Pope Dope Stupid.”

The Five Days In January 2015 In The Republic Of The Philippines became “The Longest Non-Stop Orgy Of Public Bureaucratic Religious Butt Kissing In World History.”

The International News Media — The Global Religious Cheerleaders — was as shallow, naive, and gullible as any patient in a mental asylum because like the superstitious minions they bowed down to kiss “The Old Holy Faker’s Feet” with every news dispatch, report and continuing television coverage of the pope.

The Last Time A Public Orgy Of Insanity was so widely accepted and venerated was during the reign of The Roman Empire’s Emperor Caligula.

Emperor Caligula had been a successful Roman general who came to power on “The Death Of Emperor Tiberius”, his great uncle and “Adopted” grandfather. History points out the first six months of Caligula’s reign as noble and moderate.

Of course, Catholicism and Christianity “Conquered” The Roman Republic through “Stupidity”, so, world history, now, refers to the rest of Emperor Caligula’s reign as sadistic and perverted.

Alas, Caligula didn’t have streaming video, social media, computers, cell phones, and global news networks to report his every perverted whim like the pope does.

Thus, Emperor Caligula is considered a “Bad Guy.” Pope Dope, of course, instead of being considered a perverted old religious dictator is considered a Holy Man.

Pope Francis I is tall, fat and old.

The World’s Number One Ranking Holy Man can “bamboozle” and “scam” anyone on the planet with a smile and a few, nice words.

Yet, a poor Filipina street child “Stopped The Old Holy Faker” in his tracks with a question.

Like the children’s story of “The Emperor’s New Clothes” it was a child, who pointed out the obvious and made a fool of the emperor.

Glyzelle Palomar,12, a Filipina street child, “Made A Fool Of Pope Francis I,” because he did not answer a simple question.

The reported question was, “Why does God allow child prostitution ?”

The Pope did not answer. . .right away.

The news story claims that the pope quit speaking English, revered to Spanish for a few moments (perhaps, it is easier for ‘The Old Argentine Bar Bouncer Turned Holy Man’ to ‘cuss’ in Spanish.).

“Harry The Holy Man” —- Pope Francis I had began receiving “Broadway Red Carpet Headlines”, the instant he waved from the window on the airplane on the runway.

The pope had to come up with some type of answer for the child, which would play well with the World Media and “The Faith Fools”, so no one realizes the holy con artist was just in country to rip off wallets and purses and keep “The Faith Fools” as “zombies” to the phony faith headquartered in Rome.

“Yes, Glyzelle, God Does Allow Global Child Prostitution.”

The real answer is simple.

Pope Francis I is a religious man and he did not give the child “The Real Answer.”

“The Universal Religious Default”

Anytime, any place on Earth, a holy man or a holy woman is asked a religious question they cannot answer —- they go to “The Universal Religious Default” to “Pass The Buck To Dead Jesus Christ” or “Fictional God.”

The answer is “Always” a variation of “God Works In Strange And Mysterious Ways” or “God Has A ‘Master Plan.’”

The ‘Truth” is holy men and holy women have absolutely “No Idea What God’s Master Plan Is.

The Ancient Religious Fiction Writers Never Came Up With A Logical Happy Ending.

“The Laws Of Science”

God does not work in strange and mysterious ways because the universe and planet “Works” based on the logical laws of science. Once in a Blue Moon an “Exception” to a “Law Of Science” happens, but, it is rare, and, in time, it is discovered it was the understanding of the science that was incorrect and not the action.

Super Typhoon Yolanda “Killed”, at least, 6,300 Filipinos based on “The Laws Of Science In Action.”

Glyzelle, the pope did not answer your question because he did not want to tell you “The Truth.”

“Why does God allow child prostitution ?”

“Yes, Glyzelle, God Does Allow Global Child Prostitution.”

God is fiction.

There is “No Tangible, Real World Evidence Anywhere On Planet Earth That God Almighty Is Real And Alive.” People need the “Fictional Idea Of God” to give them Hope and Faith.

Glyzelle, the world is full of good people and bad people. The bad people do not care who they hurt as long as they get their way and their needs are met.

Bad people are willing to pay money to buy children to use as “Slaves” at home, in business, or for sexual entertainment.

God is fiction. God can’t stop bad people.

The real people in government have to “Want” to stop “Child Prostitution” worldwide.

However, Glyzelle, authorities around the world look the other way and ignore the issue because “Sex For Money” is an ancient practice as old as the planet and “The Illegal Money From Sex — Prostitution” is as important as “The Legal Money From Sex — Marriage” to maintain “The World Economy.”

Glyzelle, “Good People Do Not ‘Buy’ Children To Use For Sex.”

There was another obvious reason the pope would not give you an “Honest Answer” to your question : “Pedophile Priests.”

“Pedophile Priests”

In the 1980s, people who had been “Sexually Abused” as children by priests, nuns, monsignors, bishops, archbishops, and cardinals went to the government and legal authorities around the planet and filed civil and criminal cases against “The Criminals Of The Cloth.”

All religions in the 1980s, “Lost A Lot Of Money” because many religious officials were “Convicted” as “Child Molesters.”

The Roman Catholic Church “Survived” because it is an ancient multinational religious corporation with the pope as “The Chief Executive Officer.” “The Church” quickly “Closed Ranks” and senior officials figured out ways to end, delay or stop investigations.

Since Catholicism is a strict, bureaucratic religion and government, it was fairly easy for “The Church” to “Shut Out” government officials.

Other religions like Baptists, Lutherans, Methodist, Pentecost, and Mormons do not have the financial power or organization to shut out governments, so sometimes the “suspected minister” or “suspected preacher” was sentenced to prison.

“The Criminals Of The Cloth”

“The Church” —- Catholicism —- always “Rescued” their priests and nuns by keeping them out of prison.

Glyzelle, the pope could not give you an “Honest Answer” because he would have to admit that “God Is Fiction” and that “The Church” is as “Guilty” of “Child Molestation” and “Child Prostitution” as any criminals on the planet.

“The Church” has spent millions of dollars and billions of pesos over the decades to protect their “Criminals Of The Cloth.”

Glyzelle, never loose your “Courage.” Glyzelle, never loose your “Curiosity In Life” and continue to ask difficult questions and search for answers.

Glyzelle learn to be “Careful” in whom you ask questions of.

Glyzelle,Your “Honest Question” embarassed the pope.

The pope would not and could not give you an “Honest Answer.”

An “Honest Answer” would suggest that “Religion Worldwide Is A Scam”, and it would remind people of “The Corruption Of Catholicism” which was rampant in the 1980s, when “Pedophile Priests” always seemed to be in the headlines.

One young “Doubting Thomas” in the Philippines “Stopped” The Planet’s Most Famous Old Religious Snake Charmer “dead in his tracks with a simple question.”

The Global Media Of Religious Cheerleaders down played the event and decided to ignore the child, for the most part, and put the lame religious response to the question.


 

“My Eternal Wish For The United States Of America Is Americans Never Become “Muslim Morons” Or “Pope Dope Stupid.”
— Samuel E. Warren Jr., American Writer


 

Humanity’s Evolution Towards Global Religious Slavery And Stupidity Remains On Course.

Look at “Today’s” World News Headlines “The Religious Wars” continue around the planet in 2015.

The World is in “World War III.”

People do not recognize “The War” because they still have a naive “Faith” in their “Cowardly Leaders” who have “Sold Out” their nations for wealth and phony economic promises of global stability.

The seriousness of “World War III” has not sunk in, yet, because the Islamic State, al-Qaeda, Al-Qaeda In The Arab Pennisula (AQAP) or The Iranian military is not, yet, in a position to carry out definite,daily strategic and tactical attacks of Western citizens on the soil of Western nations.

The handwriting is on the wall; it is simply a matter of time.

In the first two “World Wars”, the United States was asleep at the wheel. The current World War is no different.  This time, America has a “Coward” for president, who has no idea how to keep America’s borders safe.

President Barack Obama’s biography states that he spent some years growing up in Indonesia, a Muslim country, so Americans are naive to expect “Muslim Mikey” to have their best interest at heart when it comes to “The Prophet Mohammed” and “Allah.”

Obama’s Administration has continued to “Down-size The Military” while the Islamic State Threat is real in The Middle East and Global Terrorism continues to run rampant around the world.

“Wise Up, Americans,” Obama is “Benedict Arnold 2015 !” Obama’s interest in America isn’t patriotic.

You take a kid who got shipped from country to country in his childhood and you expect him to take “Roots” as a national leader ?

Work with your congressman and senators to “Take Back The White House.” Keep in mind, the next election is still several months away, so stay alert, read up on George Washington, Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson, and study up on personal self defense.

“The Survivalists Of The 1970s and The 1980s”, were wrong about “The Enemy”, but, not “The Fact” that “Freedom” is always “Threatened When You Let Your Guard Down.”

The aggressive effort to “Stop Americans’ 2nd Amendment” and take America’s guns is an important “Conquest” objective.

Look at World History, especially in the 20th Century, any time a dictator is on the rise, the “Peace Freaks” and “Jesus Freaks” arrive to tell you to lay down your weapons.

Any American Politician who is against you owning and using your gun is “A Traitor ! ”

Guts,Guns, Farmers, Fishermen, Blue Collar Workers, and G.I.s have always kept America Free !

All The World should ‘Stand Up Against Religious Stupidity And Slavery !”

Perhaps, people have become so “Stupid” they long to “Kiss The Pope’s Butt” and to put their faces in the dirt and their butts in the air for Allah.

I “Hope” children always remain intelligent enough to question old religious fools, who play on the emotions of people to get at the wallets, purses, real estate, and the minds of intelligent adults.

Sam

Written by samwarren55

January 21, 2015 at 11:21 PM

Posted in Bloggers, Blogs, Business, Current Events, Editorial, Family, God, Leyte, Money, Opinion, Patriotism, Philippines, Soap Box Political Opinion, Soap Box Religious Opinion, Tropics

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Super Typhoon Yolanda Aftermath One Year Later — The Lesson : “Live Life”

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by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Super Typhoon Yolanda changed my Life.

I lived inside “Ground Zero.”

I am a “Survivor.”

One obvious change Yolanda has made to my Life is I am more “aggressive.” Any pretense of patience is completely gone from my Life. I get a project done or I toss it and move on to one I can get done.

One obvious change Yolanda gave me is the opportunity to “Face Death.”

I have had a year to look at my reaction. I should be “Petrified.” I definitely felt, “Concern.”

Today is Saturday, November 8, 2014. A year ago, at “Ground Zero”, I stood in my bedroom and watched the winds of Super Typhoon Yolanda bow the coconut wood door back and forth like a warped, black LP record flexed back and forth.

Three times, Yolanda blew open the door. Three times, I pushed against the wind and intense walls of blowing rain to close the door.

Yolanda took the roof, but she left the thin sheets of plywood over the roof. Although, she did bend one down almost double to continue to pour a persistent waterfall of rain into the room.

Christy Warren, my wife, stood in front of me, and stared out the single window in the wall. I stood behind Christy and had my arms down around her. I watched the door disco dance against the door jab.

I still remember my chant: “You can stop anytime now.”

I have no idea, how many times I repeated those words. Everyone else in the room was quite.

Junea and Vanissa stood behind me. Digna Mora, the cleaning lady, stood behind the girls. Her son, David was under the concrete shelf sink at the back of the room. He fell asleep.

We heard Yolanda’s winds take the tin roof over the bedroom and the abundance of sudden sunlight over the plywood section confirmed the roof had gone airborne.

There was a plywood section for a roof under the tin. The plywood section held, but a sheet of the wood buckled in half.

The wingtip of “my” Archangel Michael statue held up that section of the roof, while the torrential rain poured in and the dry concrete floor began to fill like a swimming pool. The water inside the room would rise to a half-inch before Yolanda ceased her seize.

I remember every second of Yolanda’s bombardment.

Today, a year later, the sun is shining. The temperature is not too hot. Earlier this afternoon around one p.m., there was a nice breeze. A year ago, the phrase “Hell On Earth” had “A Real World” meaning.

I decided not to go to the “Yolanda Commemoration Ceremonies” in Tacloban City and Tanauan because I wanted “The Day” to think about my reaction to Yolanda.

All week long, ABS-CBN has aired the “Survivor Stories.” As a retired military newsman, I understand the decision. People want to know, “What Was It Like ?”

“Scary,” in a word.

The catch is, obviously, there is a limit to how much adrenaline your body pumps in a crisis situation. You sense and feel, “Fear.” But, the “Fear” can’t last.

“Numbness” replaced the initial “Fear” and the “Concern.” I stood at “The Mercy Of A Force Of Nature.” There was absolutely nothing I could do.

Yolanda could of snatched me or anyone else in the room and tossed us against the walls like rag dolls. Yolanda could of tossed any of us out through the roof.

Yolanda could of reached inside the room and pulled any or all of us out through the narrow doorway. Yolanda kept us corralled and “pinned up” in the room until her winds were done outside.

“Thanks To Yolanda, I no longer ‘Fear Death.’”

Naturally, I have “The Death Fantasy” where you lie in bed, surrounded by family and friends who love you. You close your eyes for the last time and “Death” arrives.

If I get “The Death Fantasy” fine; if not, at least, Yolanda, provided the lesson of awareness and acceptance of “Here Comes, The Last Ride ! ”

A year ago, once I heard the winds disappear, I stepped to the door and opened it.

“Stunned,” is the only word that works.

A Child Of The Cold War, I cut my baby teeth on the stories of United States, Soviet Union and Red Chinese Nuclear Armageddon Aftermath.

I remember the Civil Defense lessons in grade school. I got the blue prints I got in the mail from the United States Superintendent Of Documents to “build a bomb shelter in your backyard.”

Momma never let me build the bomb shelter. I couldn’t even convince her to build a basement. I always wanted a basement.

As a teenager, I had watched countless TV shows and movies about The Cold War Nuclear Apocalypse.

As a senior citizen, I stood on the concrete porch and looked at the devastated landscape of the island of Leyte.

No Hollywood Cold War Nuclear Holocaust Movie even came close to Super Typhoon Yolanda.

The brutal sky remained angry swatches of gray. The horizontal canvas was saturated. The rain had stopped and the sky still appeared soaked. The sky around me dripped like running paint on a wet canvas.

The dense emerald vegetation was yanked, pulled and discarded like a giant weedeater had gone ballistic on the landscape.

The huge tree at the corner of the porch had been yanked up by the roots and dropped like a weed at the hole, which moments before had covered the roots.

The 50 to 75 coconut trees in front of the house were gone. Two complete trees stood and four giant busted toothpicks, which had been coconut trees were still embedded in the ground.

Some of the coconut trees had fallen like discarded Lincoln Logs on to the plundered landscape.

Silence.

No sound.

In rural Leyte it is rare for an hour to pass without a rooster crowing somewhere nearby.

Across the barangay road, the neighbor’s bamboo house was gone completely. Christy’s white sari-sari store building was tilted at a 15 degree angle toward the road.

The bamboo carport had served it’s purpose. The bamboo poles were still in the ground. The dried coconut leaves roof had gone airborne.

Fortunately, the carport had stood long enough to keep the van on the ground. The other benefit of the carport, is it helped provide temporary shelter.

When the neighbors across the road, felt their house was going around them, they ran outside to the carport and got next to the van, according to the neighbor woman, they essentially formed a human chain and she held on to the van’s door handle.

Today, I stand with a mug of coffee in my hand and look out at the Land in front of the house. Sunlight bathes the dense vegetation.

We have a tin roof again over the house. The US AID gray tarpaulin still serves as two walls of the house.

I strolled up the barangay road a distance this afternoon. Houses are again beginning to take shape. The rice fields seem to be recovering. The Cameri Barangay Elementary School has a roof again. Neighbors’ roosters chase hens in the school yard and a concrete building in the corner is going up in a corner of the school yard.

Son, Samuel Ranilo Warren got tagged to participate in a Yolanda Commemorative Ceremony in Tacloban City as did cousin,Vanissa Saldana. Daughter, Donna Junea Warren got to “Fly Free” to a girlfriend’s birthday celebration today.

Christy and I have been relaxing around the old Pacific Ponderosa today. One Warren Way got severely remodeled by Super Typhoon Yolanda, but with time, I am sure we will have walls again someday. I need to find a carpenter, I believe, can put my concrete hollow blocks up to build a “Strong” wall.

As a political science and history student, I had memorized the photos of the destruction of “Fat Man” and “Little Boy” to Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan in 1945. A year ago, Yolanda at “Ground Zero” in Tanauan, Barangay Baras delivered the “Destruction” without the radioactive “Fallout.”

November 8, 2014 — Tacloban City reports 6,000 people dead. Officials calculate, at least, 1,061 are still missing. I doubt an accurate “body count” for Super Typhoon Yolanda will ever be firmly established because a tidal wave came ashore and took structures and, no doubt, people back out to The Leyte Gulf and The Pacific Ocean.

The brutal winds of Yolanda took roofs and “bombed out” the insides of churches and smashed all the pews to smithereens. More than a week after Yolanda’s winds, I saw that Yolanda had parked a car and a Chevrolet pickup with the grilles against the ground. The trunk and pickup bed pointed up toward the sky, while the wheels rested on the side of a building.

Super Typhoon Yolanda, a year later, has reminded me of an Important Lesson Of Life: ”Live Life !”

I would emphasize : “Live Life With A Passion !”

Today is Saturday, November 8, 2014.

Tomorrow, at sun rise, my plan, is like the plan for today : “The sun is up. Time to make a cup of coffee and enjoy the day.”

Sam

Written by samwarren55

November 8, 2014 at 11:40 PM

Posted in Bloggers, Blogs, Business, Current Events, Ecology, Editorial, Family, Observances, Philippines, Tropics

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Long Lost Cousin Search

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by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Johnny Leo Green, my cousin, was always a few years older than me. I spent most of my Life, “Hearing About”, rather, than having any time with my elusive older Texan cousin.

Around The Year 2000, I got a letter from Johnny telling me he had researched the Warren and Green family history. We exchanged some emails.

“The Move”

In 2011, I made “The Move” to Leyte, Republic of the Philippines. I didn’t figure the move would end email communications with my Texas relatives, after all, it is “The 21st Century” and the globe is “Wired” for “Global Communications” to the planet.

I was wrong.

“Remote Location”

There are places on Planet Earth where there is: No Broadband Signal, No Wifi Signal, and even an analog phone line, a Ham radio signal or a Morse Code key set is almost impossible to find.

There are places on Planet Earth in 2014 where “Electricity” is still more of an idea than a working reality. I have neighbors who use candles for light after dark or they simply go to bed early.

I had no idea that a barangay on the island of Leyte in the Republic of the Philippines would be a “Remote Location”; it can be.

Tanauan, Barangay Baras was “Remote” before Super Typhoon Yolanda, so the storm does not get the “Blame.”

In 2013, before Super Typhoon Yolanda, there were homes in Tanauan, Barangay Baras, which still did not have “electricity.” It was not uncommon to see a slender bamboo pole in the jungle propping up a power line. Nor, was it uncommon to see six to 10 electric meters on a wood or concrete pole.

Super Typhoon Yolanda only made the electricity and communications systems worse.

Yolanda tossed aside power poles like broken toothpicks or slung them out across the landscape. No doubt, some of the bamboo power poles are at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.

It was five months to the day that Yolanda struck before the electric company , responsible for our barangay, restored our “electricity.”

Yolanda totally “eliminated” the broadband service in my barangay. She took my broadband sensor on the long pole and slung it away. I still have some of the long useless cable.

“Wifi — The Only Game In Town.”

Like many people the “quick solution” is Wifi. I haven’t found Wifi to be that stable. I don’t like Wifi. Nonetheless, for now, I’m still doing the “Wifi” game because, literally, it is “The Only Game In Town.”

To date, I have searched the Internet and haven’t found a way to “Reconnect” with Cousin Johnny Leo.

I continue “The Long Lost Cousin Search.”

I am an October Scorpio. Scorpio is a Fixed Sign of the Western Zodiac. As a general rule, the “Fixed Signs” like to stay in touch with their families and relatives around the world. Genealogy, heraldry, family history and family ties are all important to most “Scorpios.”

My birthday and Halloween always makes me reflective to remember family and friends. Super Typhoon Yolanda, last year, emphasized the point that it is not wise to loose touch with family and friends.

If anyone knows my cousin, who worked in Port Arthur, Texas for several years, please, ask him to contact me on my “Samuel Warren” facebook page.

Look for the man in the photo in the blue United States Air Force uniform with The American Flag in the background.

Samuel E. Warren Jr. Oil Painting by FotoSketcher

Samuel E. Warren Jr. Oil Painting by FotoSketcher

I’d love to “Reconnect” with my Warren Family History and with my relatives in Texas.

Thank you.

Sam

Sam,God At The Tailor by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

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The Prologue

of

Book One and Book Two

 

Sam,God

At The

Tailor

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

The handsome, well-dressed man in the tailor-made business suit sits relaxed in the chair in the small tailor shop.

 

He peers up at me through his fashionable glasses and smiles. He gestures to the chair, beside him, and I sit down.

 

God,” I whisper ?

 

In the flesh,” he chuckles. “Welcome to Luzon. Manila, actually. Technically, we are in a tailor shop in Bulacan,” he grins.

 

God turns his head and whispers, “Good Morning, Sam, Ole Buddy.”

I settle into a chair beside God. He nods at the young Asian tailor taking the measurements of the young boy.

 

God takes off his glasses and uses the frames to point at the young boy. “Fernando Dantes is getting measured for a new school uniform.

 

Tomas Tolentino, the young bespoke tailor, is learning the art of becoming a professional tailor. Tomas has five brothers and three sisters.”

 

God winks at me. “It is the Philippines. In this country, they really take the phrase, |”be fruitful and multiply,” to heart.

 

Obvious, economic considerations aside, Tomas is a dedicated young man, who is working hard to make a future for himself and is working on a plan to help support and educate his siblings,”

 

God looks at me. “I figured you had some things on your mind. The old year ending and the new one beginning.”

 

I frown. “I realized since I retired most people don’t even know I exist, but, my wife might miss me.”

 

God chuckles. “The nice thing about being The Creator Of The Universe is you have all the particle physics, quantum physics, string theory and all those other fancy,smancy scientific scholastic theories and natural laws that languish at the back of your mind.

 

Long story short. You are here. At home, there is a genetic golem that is your twin. Your stand-in clone will be you at that point until you return.

 

My clone ?”

 

God laughs. “Haven’t you ever wished there was more than one of you ?”

 

All the time. Especially, back in the days when I was on duty. I took that whole “Fate Of The Free World Rests On Your Shoulders” literally,” I admit.

 

Indeed, you did.” God admits.

 

Relax. I remember you made regular visits to a tailor shop in Okinawa. Even, in Thailand, you used free time to get suits made at the tailor.”

 

I nod. “In the single days, I believed clothes impressed the ladies. The suits did.” I smile. “I did appreciate my tailor-made suits and I loved the comfort and the fit,”

 

Young Dantes dashes past us and out the door. Tailor Tomas Tolentino smiles at God.

 

God points at me. “My friend is overdue for a new suit of clothes. It is my belated Christmas present to him.

 

Three Suits, three shirts, and three ties. Then, we’ll look at the handkerchiefs, shoes and accessories.”

 

Okay, Mr. Godwin.”

 

I step into position. The young tailor uses his cloth tape measure to take the measurements and write down the numbers in the notebook on the desk.

 

I know you have had a year of challenges,” remarks God, still sitting in the chair. “Give me an idea of where you want to head in the new year.”

 

Overwhelmed. All year long,” I remark, my arms outstretched for the tailor to take the measurements.

 

Everyday seemed like an uphill battle. The nice thing about the holidays is you crawl in your cave and lick your wounds,” I retort. God sits in the chair and jots notes in a small notebook,

 

I feel like a gun shy dog, who is shot at and missed. It is one of the few times in my life, where instead of moving forward, I want to turn around and walk back,” I explain.

 

The tailor slips the tape measure under my arms and around my chest. I put my arms down.

 

God nods. “What can I do ?”

 

I grin. “You are a big player in the world economy; fix it.”

 

He laughs. “Even as we speak, people are working on it. Actually, they are ‘arguing’ about it, but, sooner or later, they will have to settle down and be rationale.’

 

God stands up and watches the young tailor work. The tailor takes my neck measurement. I turn around. I feel the tape from the back of my shirt collar go down the small of my back to my belt. The young tailor jots the measurements in his notebook.

 

My guess is your business plan for the year is you want to get everyone on the same page and moving in the same direction,” remarks God.

 

Leadership is a challenge in any culture and when you have a language barrier that only complicates understanding.

 

One of the most difficult tasks is to try to get people to share and work toward a common dream.

 

The tailor measures around my waist and looks at the measurement. He looks up at me and smiles. He takes the waist measurement again.

 

Your tape measure is right. I’ve always been skinny. I’ve always had a slender waist,” I explain. The young tailor nods and jots down the measurement.

 

I shrug. “This year was rough. I feel empty. At this point, I look at the next year as “switch to auto pilot” and hope the turbulence does not slam me into a mountain.”

 

God nods. “It was a rough year for a lot of people. I’m surprised that you are still on the mat.”

 

I grin. “If you stay down, then, you don’t get beat up.”

 

Seriously, the lumps and bruises don’t heal as quickly when you get older. And, disappointment is a difficult emotion to deal with at any age.

 

The real pain is the disappointment, when you get in the ring, you swing for a dream. You figure out too late that the fight is fixed.

 

Everyone apparently thought they would hit it big; if we failed. We failed at what we tried to accomplish. The naysayers lost out too, which serves them right for their lack of support.

 

I was naive. As a child, I learned to give people the benefit of the doubt. As an adult, I should have been more pragmatic and cynical about my fellow citizens,”

 

In the 20th Century people had The Cold War and The Atom Bomb Paranoia. Still, families usually stuck together, despite the persistent paranoia.

 

The early 21st Century seems to have become a global “Dog Eat Dog” culture that relies on the selfish paranoia of the individual, rather, than the strength of family.

 

The young tailor measures the cuff of the trousers and glances up at me.

 

Tomas, you have to forgive my friend he is an old skeptical reporter turned philosopher,” smiles God. The young man nods,

 

The young tailor makes a few quick pen strokes to sketch out the overall design on the notebook page and smile up at me.

 

I have your measurements, sir. Do you want to go ahead and choose the material for your suits.”

 

God speaks up. “I’ll choose the cloth and the fabrics.” I step over and sit in the chair.

 

God takes off his sport jacket and lies it across the desk. He removes his cuff links and puts them in his left trouser pocket. Then, he turns up the sleeves and steps into position.

 

The young tailor smiles. “Mr. Godwin, I already have your measurements.”

 

God grins. “I know. The holidays. I always tend to put on weight, which makes my shirts and trousers tighter.

 

I think we need to revisit my neck size, my last blue satin dress shirt is a perfect fit, but. I think the neck size is about a quarter of an inch too tight, even unbuttoned.”

 

The young man nods and goes to work with his tape measure.

God looks at me. “The Manila to Tacloban City cargo truck idea wasn’t a bad idea.”

 

A day and a half to two days to transport cargo from Manila to Tacloban City is a decent idea,” I admit.

 

Of course, you have to consider the condition of the roads. The wear and tear on the vehicles,and even though it is the tropics, weather conditions are still a factor.

 

Heat, in terms of temperature. Salt, in terms of salt air and how it works on steel and iron, in terms of a truck chassis.

 

Employees means you have to know how many you need, especially, mechanics to keep the trucks on the road.

 

How expensive are the trucks going to be ? Do you buy, rent or lease the trucks ?”

 

God smiles. “You did your homework.”

 

I nodded. “It was a great idea on paper. Of course, the devil is always in the details.

 

The big detail is everyone had details to add to the idea and project. The day to day operating budget only pointed in one direction: mine. I was not in the mood to change my last name to Risk.”

 

Christy has a good head for business on her shoulders,” God acknowledges.

 

She does. She knows how to put any project together and get it to work as long as people are willing to work with her,” I admit.

 

Teamwork isn’t always a concept that translates. Sometimes people only see the short=range quick peso. People don’t always see The Big Picture of trying to build for the future.”

 

The new year means I’ll stick to what I do best – writing and photography.” I grin. “Perhaps, I will inspire someone.”

 

The young tailor puts the tape measure around God’s chest a second time and looks at the measurement.

 

God laughs. “It is all the fruitcake and egg nog of the holidays. The food and drink does a number on the physique.”

 

God straightens up and looks forward for a moment. He glances at me.

 

Another year of writing and photography, then,” He asks ?

 

It is what you put me here to do,” I observe.

 

He smiles. “You, my son, thought you could make a difference in the world by the stories you would write.”

 

The foolish optimism of youth, no doubt,” I reply.

 

God chuckles. “That is what I admire about ‘youth’ the ‘utopian optimism’ to look at the world and see what it should be and not what it really is,” remarks God.

 

The young tailor carefully takes the measurements and then takes them again before jotting them down.

 

God remarks, “Now, that the holidays are ending, I guess it is time to hit the gym again.” He winks at me.

 

The young tailor jots down the measurements on the notebook and steps through a back door in the shop.

 

God fidgets with the open collar of his dress shirt. “I could use a little more starch in this shirt,” He observes.

 

I appreciate the suits and shirts,” I admit rising out of the chair. “I’m curious though, I figure with the whole switch from one year to the next you would have your hands full.”

 

God glances over his shoulder. “Nice thing about ‘The Creator Job’ after ages of new years, millennium scares and the whole switch from one year to the next, “ God pauses for a moment to listen for the tailor’s footsteps.

 

You kind of get your procedures down and know how to roll with the flow.”

 

God looks at his reflection in the shop window and raises up his chin and turns his head from side to side. “Human life is often about image.”

 

I always enjoy my fittings at the tailor. Your tailor is meticulous in creating your suit,” remarks God.

 

You look good in the suit, but, every time you put on the suit; it is the tailor’s reputation that stands out to the world.

 

Tailors and dressmakers may well be the last bastions of craftsmanship left in The Real World,” proclaims God.

 

Tailor Tolentino comes out of the back with two suits in plastic bags. He beams. “Mr. Godwin, your suits are ready.”

 

God smiles like a little boy at Christmas. The young tailor motions to the dressing room. “Feel free to try them on and see if I need to make any alterations.”

 

God takes the suits and walks toward the dressing room.

 

You and Mr. Godwin are friends,” the young tailor asks ?

 

We have been friends for so many years, I can’t even begin to count all the years,” I remark.

 

He has a very definite opinion on fashion and what he wants.”observes the tailor.

 

I nod. “It is safe to say, you will never meet anyone with more style and panache. He knows what he likes. He knows what he doesn’t like.”

 

Mr. Zeus Godwin is definitely a man, who knows the value of a peso and how to get every centavo out of it.”

 

God steps out in the double breasted gray business suit with the slender pin stripe. “This is a masterpiece ! The fit is exquisite.”

 

God grins and rubs a button. “I can pick this suit up on Tuesday of next week. I would like you to take a look at the buttons.

 

My thought is the thread might not be strong enough. You might want to check with an older tailor, I believe it was beeswax that was added to thread to make it stronger.

 

Beeswax,” remarks the young tailor. God steps back into the dressing room to try on the other suit.

 

The young tailor looks at me.

 

I smile. “Mr. Zeus Godwin, knows all. Mr. Zeus Godwin sees all,” I tease.

 

The fact that he is here means you must really be a tailor of merit.”

 

The young man shrugs and smiles. “It is one of those strange stories of Life. The day I went to be measured for my first school uniform. The tailor was being precise in his fitting of a priest in a robe.

 

The tailor checked the hem a couple of times and adjusted how the robe draped on the priest’s instep.

 

The priest told the tailor it was a great fit, but, the tailor convinced the priest to let him make a couple of alterations.

 

Suddenly, a high-ranking Philippine National Police officer and his wife rushes into the shop.

 

The woman was in tears. The poor lady she was coming apart at the seams. She was talking mile a minute Tagalog and crying like it was the end of the world.

 

The man had a doomed looked and put his dress uniform on the desk. The woman had heard of an inexpensive tailor, who could do uniforms in a rush. She had convinced her husband to go to the tailor.

 

I watched the tailor calm the woman down and look over the uniform with the officer.

 

The officer tried on the uniform. The pants were waiting for the flood pants,” smiles the young tailor.

 

The jacket was tight through the chest and the sleeves were short. The uniform look like it had shrunk in a washing machine.

 

My mother put her hand over my mouth, so no one could see me laugh.

 

The tailor hunkered down and used his tape measure to check the hem in the pant’s legs.

 

Then, he stood up and went and took the jacket off the mannequin in the window.

 

He held it up to the officers back to check the width of the shoulders. Then, he suggested the officer try on the jacket.

 

In a few moments, the officer returned and the tailor checked the balance of the jacket and the sleeve length. I saw the officer smile.”

 

The young tailor smiles. “It was a complete catastrophe. Yet, the tailor assured the officer that he could fix the length of the pants and make a slight alteration to the jacket, so the officer would have the uniform for the next morning.”

 

The young tailor closes the notebook on his desk and looks at me. “Like they say, that is the rest of the story.

 

I started hanging out around the tailor shop and noticed how happy people where and how they smiled when they had on a shirt, suit or dress that was made for them.”

 

Pure Michelangelo,” chimes God stepping forward in the navy blue business suit.

 

He flicks the lint off the sleeve and smiles. God smiles at the buttons on the suit sleeve cuff. “Savile Row. The last time I wore a business suit that felt this comfortable I had it tailored for me on Savile Row.”

 

God nods. “Now, let’s look at the bolts of cloth and pick out the material for the shirts.”

 

Tailor Tomas Tolentino smiles. “Wait just a moment, I have put some material back for your next visit, Mr. Godwin.” The tailor turns and steps out the back.

 

God looks at me. “Are you ready for the new year ?”

 

Ready or not, it will come,” I tease.

 

That it will,” God grins. “You put one foot in front of the other and move forward like you always do. You will be back up and running in no time,” God advises.

 

I nod. “I know, no one is getting any younger. I just want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and realize that this is the point in life that I am suppose to be at.”

 

It is the assurance that your journey in Life brings you to a point to where you feel you are suppose to be.”

 

I nod my head up and down. “Now, I get why God takes me with him to a new tailor.”

 

To shoot the breeze with a mortal and do the cosmic male bonding routine,” teases God.

 

Perhaps.” I grin. “I would interpret it as a Life lesson. When Life doesn’t fit, don’t hesitate to make alterations.

 

Everyday may seem like it is off the rack, but, you should be able to tailor it to fit.”

 

Hemmed in and restricted by seams; you need to find a way to let it out and add some elastic to life.”

 

You shouldn’t always feel like Life is ready to wear and you don’t get to make any changes or decisions.”

 

If you get steamed, relax; you can iron out the wrinkles in your Life.”

 

Like a tailor, take your measurements, look at your patterns and decide how you want your Life to be sewn together.”

 

If you need help, find the tailor, or the professional, who can help you do the job.”

 

In the grand scheme of the Universe, Life can be tailored to allow you to dress for success in almost any event.”

 

God laughs. “Writers. I love you guys and gals. You take a simple act and put universal meaning to it,” remarks God. He lowers His eyeglasses and winks.

 

The tailor returns with the cloth. God smiles, “Now, for the dress shirts.”

Sam

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

Sam,God,Satan New Year Proposal by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

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Book Two

Sam,

God,

Satan,

The

New Year

Proposal

TICK TOCK TRAVEL TIME_resized

 

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

God brought me to a Time and Space Dimension, outside the realm of The Real World.

 

God and Satan sometimes “Shoot The Breeze.”

 

Today, New Year’s Eve, God decided to select a human to attend the session.

 

It is obvious, that this brainstorming session is setting the stage for A New Year’s celebration unlike any other.

 

Satan did not like the location, so He teleported all of us to His penthouse in another dimension.

 

God in his white tuxedo seems to have a New Year’s Proposal in mind.

 

God crushes out his cigar butt in the ashtray and finishes off His brandy. He stands up.

 

Satan, Ole Buddy. You are just too serious. It is time to lighten up and party. I’m thinking a uniform change is in order,” teases God.

 

No !” Satan shrieks. “No ! I sense where you are going. The idea is not warranted and it certainly is not funny.’

 

God spread His legs into a Parade Rest stance and lifts up His head. A supreme ball of intense white light radiates from within His solar plexus.

 

Satan smirks, “His sense of humor will be the death of me one of these centuries.”

 

The rays of light cascade around God’s human form for a moment and then vanish.

 

Call me, ‘Goddess,” proclaims God, who now, stands embodied in the form of a tall, large redheaded woman in a floor-length eveining gown.

 

Satan shakes his head, “You just had to be a Momma’s Boy; didn’t you.”

 

An unseen force thrusts Satan back and He is on His knees on the floor staring up into a pillar of intense energetic blue light. “Alright. Alright. I get it.”

 

The light vanishes. Satan stands up in the stance that God had used. An intense orb of yellow, then, orange, then, blue light casts our rays around His body. “This isn’t funny,” he groans.

 

Satan drops to his knees and stretches out on the floor. The light radiates under Him against the floor for a moment and then vanishes.

 

A large, tall black woman lies on the floor in the place of Satan.

 

Goddess sashays over and looks down. “The process requires an intense amount of focused energy. If you don’t fight it; it is harmless. Poor Satan, all these centuries and sometimes He forgets to roll with the flow.

 

Satan slowly sits up. “Call Him, Santanna,” remarks God. God reaches down a hand.

 

A flustered Santanna rises to her feet. “i can do it. You and your silly little jokes and pranks.”

 

Goddess grins, “When I do it; it is jokes and pranks. When Satan does it, of course, it is procedure, rules, regulations, i.e., business.”

 

Why,” asks Santanna ?

 

In this dimension of Time And Space, we did The Universal Macho Male Bonding Exercise,” smiles God.

 

You guessed it, Santanna. Sam is a Momma’s Boy. In his Real World dimension, he can and does relate to a woman, whom he trusts, loves and respects. Santanna you are long overdue to feel some human emotion.”

 

Santanna looks down at the evening gown.

 

Goddess steps back and looks at Her evening gown. “Exquisite.”

 

She smiles at me. “Since I plucked this design out of your mind, Sam, you get to explain it.

 

Santanna moans, “Great. Time out for Fashion Week In The Mythic Zone.”

 

I know my terms won’t be fashion terms, but, I’ll try to explain the style and design. Goddess wear a full-length evening gown of satin blue.

 

The bodice is, essentially, a strapless bustier. It is an exaggerated M design to suggest the natural peaks and valleys of a woman’s breast.

 

The M provides two functions. First, it calls attention to the breasts. Second, it can provide a Public or a Privacy function.

 

If you wish to suggest, but not reveal, then, you choose the Superheroine Style that stiffly towers over the breasts and casts a shadow to conceal them.

 

Goddess wears “This is The Freedom Of The Press Style. “ The wearer has nothing to hide.

 

The large M cut design simply shields the breasts behind reinforced comfortable material. The design is suppose to gently lift the breasts and allow them to rest on a comfortable material shelf that feels as natural as if a woman is lifting up her own breasts.

 

To provide the support a woman’s breasts stand out like the prow of a ship. “The design to allow the breast to stick out forward is intentional. Men are men. Women are women. God purposely designed the bodies to be different.

 

The physique of a man’s body and the physique of a woman’s body should always be celebrated.

 

Under the breast is layers of cottonballs arranged to provide a cushion to allow the breasts to stick out forward and rest comfortably. It is the only idea I could come up with to replace an underwire. I’m sure someone in the industry can refine the design.

 

Santanna snickers, “We get it, Sam. You are a breast man.”

 

Goddesses frowns at Santanna.

 

I step out and gesture at the cup area of the evening gown. “If I knew more about synthetics, then, I might have been able to suggest a Kevlar, diamond, lycra or latex alloy or composition that would be sewn into the lining and really protect the breasts from injury.”

 

I point to the bodice. “The body of the garment is suppose to be comfortable because at a formal social fuction then you should look impressive and still be comfortable.”

 

My concern is the way the material is gathered together at the small of the back. I had hoped the overall design would allow for a more natural flow like how drapes hang straight down.”

 

It looks like some of the material may have been bunched and is creating an unnatural padding situation. Perhaps, a heavier weight of satin would provide the vertical flow, although sharkskin would probably be cheaper and maybe easier to work with.”

 

Regardless, I chose to embed two structural supports at the side of the garment to allow the bra section to remain suspended. When a woman puts her arm down to her side you do not see the support.

 

I believe with an evening gown a woman should have the matching gloves that extend half way up past the elbow.

 

I step to the back of Goddess. “The back is open to reveal the shoulder blades. I imagined this peaked V at the bottom of the bustier bodice, to allow the material to flow natually over the posterior.” I hunker down tto show how the material hangs down to the instep. “At least, the design rides to an inch or two above the instep.”

 

I look up and Santanna shakes Her head. “Sam, you really need to get out of the house more often.”

 

Goddess reaches down and help me to my feet. “Pay no attention, Sam. Some people and some entities are just wet blankets.”

 

Goddess winks and whispers. “I think you are on to something. You should sketch it out on paper and go from there.”

 

I shrug. “Basically, it was just a mental exercise. You see an actress at the Academy Awards on TV and you imagine designing her a more eye-catching andcomfotable gown.”

 

Santanna claps and steps forward. “I’m really going to be interested in how you explain this design.”

 

Like the previous evening gown, it draws attention to the woman’s breasts. It has the strapless M design.

 

The inverted W calls attention to without demanding attention. The red satin evening gown material flows down to full-length.

 

I etched in embroidery at the side seams of the bra to outline the front panel of the dress.

 

The gold embroidery suggests an Oriental flavor. I used oversized peal snaps at the seams to suggest a Western flavor.”

 

I open one of the snaps. “ The snaps work. They are in line from the armpit to the top of the hip. Two rows of three snaps are above the top of the hip to prevent the dress from accidentally coming apart in public.

 

This is my East Meets West Evening Gown.”

 

The front panel hangs down. The two inch wide Oriental design originates at the top of the hips from the bottom of the structural piping and flows down, along the bottom and up the other side.”

 

I step back and point at the thigh. “ The graduated slit of the evening gown allows the wearer seductive freedom of movement. Here, of course, Santanna has decided to go with black hose garters to Her nylons.”

 

Santanna steps forward thrust around Her shoulders and casts a seductive look over Her shoulder. “I have to hand it to you, preacher man, you really know how to design a comfortable evening gown.”

 

Then, Santanna winks, “You are going to have to pay attention to the shoes though. “

 

High heels may go with everything, but they are not always the comfortable footwear choice.”

 

I step back and look at Goddess and Santanna. “Thank you.”

 

For what,” smirks Santanna ?

 

It is always nice to see an image from your imagination in The Real World. . .or, at least, in a realistically virtual dimension.

 

Goddess smiles and steps back. She lifts up Her hair and it flows. She smiles into the ornate silver full-length mirror.

 

Roman women’s formal hairstyles were hard to beat. They did make every woman look like a goddess.” Goddesses’ hair finishes and a large silver ornamental comb appears at the back of the hairstyle.

 

Santanna smirks at Goddess. “The Punk Rocker, Spike and Mohawk look I take it are out for this evening gown.”

 

Fine.” Santanna firmly plants her feet on the floor and the scattered strands of hair rise to create a formal Korean hairstyle.

 

The large ornamental gold and jade dragon comb appears in the hair.

 

You know, professor, I think, I’m going to spend more time looking in on your mind.

 

I got a tall, busty, black bodybuilder physique out of your subconscious. The end result is I like how this dress hangs and swings on my body.”

 

Santanna don’t try to intimidate Sam. It is New Year’s Eve. We want to party. I think Sam is in the inner reflection mode.

 

Goddess gestures to me. I step up and take her hand. Santanna steps up and takes mine. “Relax, human. You ain’t my type.”

 

I step forward and the two buxom women in evening gowns stroll toward my front porch.

 

Goddess laughs. “Relax, Sam. You don’t have to worry about your neighbors. We are still doing the old spatial time displacement routine. We are at a level in your world, but we are still transparent.

 

Santanna staggers around on the heels and finally reaches the porch. Santanna takes off the heels and drops them on the porch.

 

The guests in the Real World look for the disembodied sound. Santanna smirks.

 


“Shoes, gentlemen. If we ever play this game again. We bring along a shoe designer.”

 

Santanna sits on a porch railing and begins to massage her feet. “My dogs hurt.”

 

Santanna roughly massages the bottoms of her feet. “Ouch,”

 

Santanna stands up and looks at the evening gown.

 

Well, if I have to be in this ridiculous skin wearing this ridiculous get up I really want to look like a woman. . .”

 

Santanna thrusts out her hip and places her hand on it. “Goddess is American 38G Cup,” Santanna proclaims and smiles.

 

Santanna’s breasts start to grow. “Santanna will be an American 40 G Cup,” Santanna proclaims.

 

Santanna swishes her hips and walks up behind me to breathe on my neck. Santanna whispers her best Mae West voice in my ear, “What do you think, big boy ?”

 

Goddess rises and walks forward. “Stand down, Santanna. If only the humans of earth could see The Ultimate Evil Of The Universe has gender issues. And, He, She still has trouble playing it off.”

 

Santanna nods. “Fine. Gender switch is an issue with me. Lilith will scatter my atoms across the universe if she sees me like this.”

 

God laughs. “You are immortal.”

 

And, Lilith is creative,”

 

God nods. I step forward and Pseudo Sam, the genetic golem, becomes a part of me.

 

I stand back in The Real World. I smell the food and notice the hunger in my stomach.

 

I sit down at the head of the table. Goddess stands to my right and places Her hand on my shoulder. Santanna stands to my left and places Her hand on my shoulder.

 

I express my Real World appetite. The Universal Energy flows in a circle inside me. I look at the porch railing in the distance and there is the momentary reflection of Goddess and Santanna standing by my side.

 

Once everyone finishes eating. The men move to an area to talk. The women sit at the table and talk. I step to the porch, look out into the night and light a cigarette,

 

I exhale the smoke.

 

Suddenly, my golem strolls toward the men.

 

Goddess, Santanna and I watch. “The TV is tuned to the New Year’s Eve countdown. The men are drinking tuba and the women are drinking wine.

 

Even without the spatial time dimension, I doubt anyone would notice us,” remarks Goddess,

 

Oh, no, Goddess. The way you look in that evening gown, you would definitely stand out, “I comment.

 

Goddess smiles. “This is New Year’s Eve. My wife is shopping somewhere in Paris for the evening and your wife, , ,” Goddess looks at Santanna.

 

She is at some party in Florence or Milan. She mentioned something about swinging by Greenwich Village or Haight Ashbury. I swear that goddess is lost without the 1960s.

 

We had better watch Lilith or She is going to gesture and re-create Woodstock right next to The Dome Of The Rock in The Holy Land,”

 

Goddess laughs. “Lilith isn’t the loose cannon, you think She is. You just get jealous whenever She negotiates a successful business deal that you overlooked. Bottom line, She has better control of her emotions than you do.”

 

Santanna leans against the porch railing and massages the bottom of Her feet, “I’m getting out of this ridiculous evening gown.”

 

You will do no such thing,” admonishes Goddess !

 

Relax,Satan ! Every millennium or so, we owe it to ourselves to do something unusual for New Year’s Eve. Who says we can’t put a little Halloween into New Year’s ?”

 

Santanna eases her right foot down on the porch, “I did like the feel of my tux.”

 

Goddess shakes her head. “You are not fooling anybody, Satan.”

 

While you have one presence here, I am aware that you are have your cloned presence suited up in a variety of tuxedos and dinner jackets and are in attendance at various New Year’s Eve Parties around the globe.”

 

Santanna grins. “The problem with being the Dark Half Of The Creator is I am the half, which means that you always know what I am up to.”

 

Goddess laughs. “Ah, the challenge of being a twin.”

 

Santanna slides off the railing and limps around in Her stocking feet. “With only a little time left until the New Year, I’m curious. If you aren’t going to pursue a career as a shoe designer in the New Year; do you have a direction?”

 

I nod. “Yes.”

 

Goddess smiles. “Speak your mind, Sam. Satan’s bark is often worse than His bite. He does have a talent for getting the right people to spread the word to enhance His “EVIL” reputation.”

 

Goddess smiles, “But, even with a reputation; sometimes you have to put your money where your mouth is. He usually comes up short on the follow through.”

 

Says you,” smirks Santanna.

 

Actually, I was going to give Satan credit for snakes, lawyers, Rap music, jocks and computer games,” I smile.

 

Goddess chuckles. Santanna bursts out in laughter and gestures. The porch lengthens and a round dining table with a lace table cloth appears.

 

Two bottles of champagne are in the silver chilled ice buckets standing by the table. A bucket of ice with tongs sits in the middle of the table.

 

Santanna grins at Goddess, “You might want to do your thing and slow time in The Real World. This sounds like fun.”

 

Goddess nods. I notice people in The Real World dimension, do seem to be moving slower.

 

We sit at the table. “I give you credit for snakes. A truly worthless lifeform that causes problems, spreads venom and kills numbers of people each year.”

 

Since the snake bite fatalities of a single incident don’t rank up there with bomb explosions; humanity at large doesn’t pay attention.”

 

Santanna nods. “They are worthless. I figured within a week, the slow-witted humans of old would have had them wiped out from the planet.

 

Of course, it only took one fool to look at a snake and decide it reminded him of a certain part of his anatomy.”

 

Santanna laughs. “There have always been stupid people in the world. But, for an ancient twit to look at an ugly snake and make that connection is the height of stupidity.

 

Of course, other slug-witted humans come along and the next thing you know, the nuisance creation genetic material is being plugged in as a symbol in stories and religious cults.”

 

Santanna hold up Her hand and the silver cigarette case appears. “Lawyers,” smirks Goddess. Santanna lights her cigarette and offers me one. I accept. I light the cigarette and exhale.

 

Lawyers,” I smile.

 

Granted. A lawyer does solve problems. The catch is when they solve a problem, often they are only setting things up to create more and bigger problems.

 

Humanity will never evolve to the point to where people can compromise, so, unfortunately, you will always need the occupation of a lawyer in humanity.”

 

Santanna grins, “Rap music is cuss words set to noise.”

 

I nod. “Simple. When it starts up, the promoters whine that once society rejected to rock and roll, jazz and other forms of music. No one wants to be guilty of stopping a valid art form, so suddenly you have rhythmic noise pulling down big bucks,” I decree.

 

Santanna leans across the table and looks me in the eye, “Jocks ?”

 

I lean across the table and look Santanna in the eye.

 

Pure Satanic Genius,” I grin.

 

The gladiators were true athletes, who used their brain and brawn to earn their freedom,” I point out. Santanna and Goddess nod.

 

I lean back in the chair and blow a smoke ring. “A jock is a man or woman, who never grows up. As a child, they are usually a bully or hang out with bullies.

 

They may make tons of money playing in public, but, they never really do anything for anyone other than themselves.

 

People buy into the whole silly fairy tale because it is suppose to be physical fitness.

 

Jocks are just supreme time wasters that drags along tons of people with them to waste their money and lives on primitive grunt and groan theatrics,” I explain.

 

Santanna laughs loudly and wipes at a tear in Her eye.

 

Goddess lights a cigarette. “Sam, why do you think Satan created computer games.”

 

I was yanking His chain,” I grin.

 

Computer games can be important to teach hand and eye coordination and to teach someone how to use a computer, the Internet and other tasks,” I explain.

 

A major downside of humanity is how quickly humanity can get addicted to something.

 

Whether a computer game is simple or complex, if the right person sits down in front of the screen, hours of their lives slip away wasted and unused.”

 

Everyone fights boredom. Computer games are a great way to fight it.”

 

When the entertainment becomes an obsession then it is a habit, which is an addiction, which is basically a way to waste large chunks of your life. Everything in moderation.” I smile.

 

Santanna laughs loudly. Goddess exhales smoke and grins. “I have a game for you.” Goddess winks. “If you were granted immortality and God status, what would you change ?”

 

World peace,” teases Santanna

 

I shake my head. “World Peace is a silly fantasy. No way to achieve it on an earth full of humans,” I retort.

 

Really,” inquires Santanna. “Do tell.”

 

God could wave His hand and walah, suddenly there would be Peace throughout the world.

 

Peace is boring. Everyone would deal with their happy, happy, joy,joy modes for a few hours, days, weeks, months. Humanity might even make it to a decade.”

 

Sooner or later, one person, a few people, or a group will get upset or disgruntled over something. Dissension Discontent, Disappointment, Discord. Disagreement.”

 

I shrug. “Whether it is one person, a few people or a group; once people don’t see eye to eye on an issue and they can’t reach an agreement, then, the stage is set for all that negative energy to grow and multiply.

 

World Peace is an unrealistic fantasy of humanity.”

 

Santanna lies back in the chair and points at Goddess. “If you did have immortality and God-like powers what would you do ?”

 

I smirk. “Grant my wife, immortality and God status.”

 

I inhale and exhale the smoke. “Then, I would convince Christy move to a distant planet in the universe. There we could try to enjoy our immortality.

 

Of course, once we got to the planet, we might give up the immortality to return to a mortal life. Life without end, never sounds as attractive in your senior years as it does in your youth.”

 

Santanna waves her cigarette. “Humanity. If you had to use your God powers for humanity what would you do ?

 

Honest,” I ask ?

 

Honest,” grins Santanna.

 

I look at Goddess. “I would thank God for the magnificent opportunity, but I would request not to be given The Power.”

 

Yeah, right,” smirks Santanna. “You have been offered The Power to be a God and you turn it down.”

 

I nod. “As a child, I was optimistic about humanity. I have lived in The Real World.

 

People don’t want to be “Holy.” People just want to live their lives.

 

People don’t even really care about “The Big Picture” issues of Life unless they think it will affect them.”

 

At Christmas, people go out of their way to help the homeless. Pick any day of the year before the Christmas season and people usually ignore or don’t think about the homeless.”

 

There are people, who can live their lives and still help others.”

 

You don’t know where to start,” grins Santanna ?

 

I wish I could be more optimistic about the human race,” I smile.

 

Unfortunately, in the Grand Scheme Of Gods, You, Satan have The Best Job. You get to put obstacles in front of people and challenge them to overcome them.”

 

I look at Goddess. “With all due respect, God has the worst job because He gives people the benefit of the doubt and tries to help them.

 

People usually only really drop to their knees to “worship”, during an extreme personal crisis. God always gets the short end of the stick.”

 

Santanna frowns. “You want my job ?”

 

No. It is obvious you, Satan, enjoy your job immensely.”

 

If I had The Power and could fly, teleport between dimensions, change the molecular structure of items just by thinking or wishing about them. . .obviously, all these aspects of The Power would be great to have.”

 

Imagine being a human with super hero powers. The catch is the universe expects you to use those powers to help your fellow humans.”

 

But, when you try to help one human, then, sometimes you cause problems for another human. It is a proverbial, endless loop cycle,”

 

The temptation, then, is to become just a selfish God intent on satisfying your own needs.

 

You can be human and be selfish; you don’t need God-like powers to be selfish,” I explain.

 

I shrug. “I want to live out my little,mortal Life and then go Permanent Change Of Station into The Afterlife.”

 

Goddess leans on the table and looks me in the eyes. “If you were offered The Power Of Creation And Immortality To Be A God; you would reject it ?”

 

I nod. “Yes.”

 

Where humanity is concerned. Evolution is a slow process. Earth is a classroom. People live and learn lessons. “

 

I doubt humanity will ever evolve anywhere near being “Holy” or a God-like status. It is too easy for humans to get sidetracked by trivial issues in The Real World.”

 

Santanna grins. “I have to hand it to you, human. It is rare, when I meet a human, who has actually examined their hopes and dreams.”

 

Goddess rises from the table and walks around the porch. Santanna watches.

 

Santanna looks around. “Retirement is nothing like you expected,” Santanna asks ?

 

Not in my wildest dreams,” I reply and open one of the cold bottles of rum.

 

Can I help,” offers Santanna ?

 

Probably not,” I grin.

 

Santanna snickers, “You’re still holding that Misawa Air Base thing against me; aren’t you ?”

 

I nod. “Until The Day Eternity Ends.”

 

Santanna shrugs. “Life is a slow pace in the country, huh ?”

 

I nod. “I’m not going to ask for your help, if that is what you are waiting for. I simply, don’t have any issues that require your level of expertise,” I smile.

 

Nothing,” whines Santanna ?

 

I sip the rum. “For the last year, it has been frustrated dealing with the electric company.

 

But, electric companies, internet service providers, cell phone companies, telephone companies, satellite companies – they are all alike. They give you ho-hum service and send you a huge bill each month.”

 

The electric company. Is that a request ?”

 

No. It is not a request,” I emphasize.

 

I understand the challenges the electric company faces. Weather, terrain, budget – I know all those issues play into the kind of service a company can provide. I get it.”

 

Nonetheless, every business in the world ends up with the dead weight employees, who get their game down pat. They don’t rock the boat and stay under the radar.

 

The dead weights go high enough to be comfortable, but, never high enough to be noticed. Then, they sit back and “Fat Cat” off the system. They collect a paycheck for the least amount of work possible.”

 

Santanna smiles, “You think one of the electric companies in Leyte has gone ‘Fat Cat’?”

 

I shrug. “As a human, I’m not impressed by their so-called service.”

 

I’m sure an Immortal, perhaps, a God, might have the opportunity to see behind the press releases.”

 

Santanna leans across the table and grins. “Are you sure this is not a request ?”

 

This is not a request,” I emphasize.

 

I am simply calling your attention to a matter that may have escape the attention of God and Satan.

 

I’m sure one of you or both of you might check out the matter when you have time on your schedule,” I explain.

 

Santanna sits up in the chair and sips Her liqueur, “Sam, do you think we will do any business in the coming year ?”

 

I shrug. “Anything is possible, I guess.” I reply.

 

Good enough,” grins Santanna.

 

Goddess returns and sits down at the table. “Remodeling ? Renovation ? What are you thinking,” asks Goddess ?

 

Inspiration,” I reply. “Once I am inspired I will move ahead with an idea.”

 

My wife, Christy is a pro-active person. She has an idea; she goes for it. My drawback is I stroll toward an idea. I don’t charge, head-first into it.

 

The last couple of years. I have tried to be a nice guy and be kind of laid back.”

 

In the New Year, I’m going to pursue the dream Christy and I want. I’m ready,” I proclaim.

 

Santanna holds up her hand and an open bottle of Benedictine brandy appears. A glass appears in her hand and She pours the liquid. “I like the irony.”

 

The story s that the Benedictine monks came up with the drink. The story isn’t true, but, it has been told so often that the brandy is associated with the monks,” Santanna teases and takes a swig.

 

A champagne flute appears in Goddess’ hand and She sips. “A few minutes until the New Year,”

 

A cold bottle of rum appears in my hand. I sip.

 

Goddess leans against me and whispers, “Remember, even in the tropics, there is a colds and flu season.”

 

Goddess steps forward and stands in front of me. She looks me in the eyes.

 

Your mother asks that I pass along her love,” smiles Goddess, who raises Her arms and an intense beam of light radiates from each palm into my body for about five minutes.

 

Santanna stands up and steps to the other side of the table. She uses her half-filled crystal glass to point at the TV screen. “The countdown to the New Year has started.”

 

I stand up. Goddess winks at me. “You will be okay.”

 

Everyone yells, “Happy New Year !”

 

I stand near the TV. Everyone is shouting, “Happy New Year !”

 

I embrace and kiss my wife, Christy.

 

I look up.

 

A cold shiver runs up my spine, I hear Santanna’s whispered smirk in my ear, “Go get ’em, country boy !”

 

A feeling of warmth causes me to turn and look at the porch entrance. The rest of the guests are laughing and talking and watching the TV coverage of the New Year being celebrated at the precise instant in various locations in the Philippines.

 

Santanna nods, smiles and fades into the dimension of Time and Space.

 

Goddess appears and smiles. “ Samuel, you are more ready than you realize for this year.”

 

I watch Goddess fade into the dimension of Time and Space and only a small dot of light remains.

 

Christy steps up to my side. “Look, a lightning bug.”

 

Happy New Year, honey.” I put my arm around her.

 

I watch the firefly flutter around past the banana plant.

 

The firefly flies further out into the yard into the night.

Sam

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

Sam, God, Satan New Year’s Eve Analysis by Samuel E Warren Jr,

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Book One

Sam,

God,

Satan

New Year’s Eve Analysis

TICK TOCK TRAVEL TIME

 

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

I hold the hot cup of coffee.

I take a deep drag of the cigarette and stare into the dense jungle vegetation in front of me.

I step out on to the porch.

Two bright globes of light appear on the horizon and transform into two human figures.

 

The first man to step out of the light is handsome, in his mid-20s, sports the physique of a bodybuilder. His parted sandy hair and cleft chin makes him a stereotype for a Hollywood leading man of the 1940s.

 

He wears a white double breasted tuxedo jacket. A pink carnation is visible on the lapel. The tied white satin tie compliments the collar of the formal shirt. The ruby studs in gold glow in the distance.

 

His white tuxedo trousers display the stripe along the out seam. His glossy, shined white western boot footwear I am certain is a message that he shares my fondness for the footwear – pointed toe and all.

 

I am surprised to notice he is wearing a white evening waistcoat over the formal shirt. The style of his tuxedo jacket, there is no need for the vest, other than, perhaps, personal choice.

 

I watch the jangle of the gold watch chain and realize the vest has a smaller buttonhole for the end of the watch fob. The tradition of the unbuttoned bottom button is maintained.

 

His broad smile has already arrived ahead of him. He strides confidently through the jungle vegetation through the porch.

 

The second man is less enthusiastic about his visit.

 

Combed jet black hair frames a handsome face. He shares the youth of the mid-20s and the bodybuilder physique. His evening attire displays his precise convention for tradition.

 

He wears a midnight blue tuxedo. The tied black bow tie is a conservative size to compliment and not compete with the collar of the shirt. His determined walk reveals that the painted on formal shirt is being held in place by shirt garters attached to his dress socks.

 

The shirt displays traces of movement, but maintains the painted on appearance, which means he is wearing shirt garters attached to his dress socks.

 

The buttoned tuxedo jacket gives only a hint of the cumber bun. The responsive rise and fall of the tuxedo trousers suggest the man is wearing formal suspenders beneath his coat.

 

His precise attention to detail makes the tuxedo seem painted on. The black onyx in silver studs of the formal shirt matches the cuff links. The gold wristwatch is worn to impress.

 

The white satin handkerchief peaked in the breast pocket is no surprise. The single rosebud boutonniere swaddled in baby’s breath is pinned on the lapel, which has no buttonhole. The boutonniere is strategically placed to attract the eyes of the ladies.

 

The highly polished black western boots means he was told to wear boots. His dubious look ripples toward the porch.

 

I put out my hand to the first man. “Welcome, God.”

 

Hey, Sam. Happy New Year’s Eve.”

 

Thank you, sir.”

 

I put out my hand to the second man, who gestures it away with his formal walking stick. He takes a step and his boot slides into the mud.

 

Welcome, Satan,” I reply.

 

He scowls at me and steps up on the porch. “This was not my idea. God said I should come with Him. You know me, I’m not fond of mortals.”

 

Any friend of God’s is a friend of mine,” I smile.

 

I didn’t say I was a friend of God. He just told me I should come with Him,” elaborates Satan.

 

I’m honored and surprised you gentlemen would show up here for New Year’s Eve.”

 

I will be leaving later, I’m sure,” sneers Satan.

 

God laughs. “You will have to forgive Satan His rude manners. The holidays always gets Him down.”

 

Coffee, soda, water, can I get you something to drink,” I ask ?

 

We’re fine,” smiles God. He looks around at the decorations on the porch. Satan hunkers down, grumbles and wipes the mud off his boot.

 

God sits on the porch railing and looks at me. “This isn’t what you signed up for is it, Samuel ?”

 

No, sir,” I answer, in my yellow short sleeve barong and denim jeans. “I had a Beverly Hills mansion on the Leyte beach in mind. Of course, with the fickleness of nature, I would probably only live there about a week before the ocean would swop in and wash it out to sea.” I smile. “You have taught me Life is always changing.”

 

Satan looks up and glances around. “One place is as good as another.”

 

Satan looks at God, “The evening is young and I’m ready to party.”

 

Cool your jets,” orders God. “You don’t have a hot date. You don’t even have a plan for the evening. Your biggest decision all day was in the selection of your wardrobe. Can’t you just be among mortals without always having an agenda ?”

 

I don’t know,” replies Satan. “I really have never tried. You know me, I’m the King Of Soap Operas.”

 

‘Asawa, taste this,” implores Christy, who holds up the steaming table spoon. “Umm. Good.”

 

Does it need salt, she asks ?

 

No, honey. The shrimp fried rice tastes fine.” I smile.

 

You, okay. I noticed you have been standing there awhile just staring out into the jungle,” she asks ?

 

I’m fine. New Year is coming. I’m thinking. Always thinking about new story ideas. It is a writer thing.” I smile. Christy heads back into the kitchen.

 

Obviously, Christy does not see God and Satan.

 

Writers and storytellers understand the multiverse concept that allows you to stand on your porch in The Real World and converse with entities in another dimension.

 

If you’re doing “The Taste Tester” routine,” Satan snickers, “forget ‘The Boys Night Out’ because Momma ain’t going to give you a Kitchen Pass.”

 

God smiles and gestures. My genetic golem stares back at me holding a hot cup of coffee and a burning cigarette. “Understudy time,” chuckles God. “He will do the things you do and say the things you say because he is a shade version of you designed to operate on The Real World level.”

 

God grins at me. “Congratulations. You’ve just been upgraded. You are now at a different vibrational frequency. You can see them, but they can’t see you.”

 

Am I in trouble,” I ask ?

 

God laughs, “Of course not, Satan and I know that if there is any place on earth that we can just chill out and shoot the breeze, chew the fat and just talk, it is where you live.”

 

I visit some people and they freak out. Satan visits people and they usually really freak out. We visit you and you are respectful and courteous. You don’t have the traditional preconceived notions of God and Satan. You give us the benefit of the doubt.”

 

You are a strange mortal,” quips Satan.

 

God nods at me. “Sam you have never learned the meaning of the term, “hold back.” If a question comes to mind, then, you ask it. If a comment comes to mind, then, you say it. You have the same approach with mortals and deities; except with us entities you add the courtesy titles into your comments and responses.”

 

Satan frowns and throws up his arm. Walls rise. A shiny hardwood floor appears under my feet. Two black plush sofas are arranged in a semi circle around a coffee table. A wall-sized big screen TV is on the wall at the end of the room. A gaudy, glassy, chrome, silver industrial theme fills the room. An outer wall becomes vertical sheets of glass.

 

Satan steps to the end of the room and a bar rises up around him. God looks at Satan.

 

What,” smirks Satan ? He grins and sits a glass pitcher on the counter. “Want a martini ?” He looks at the labels of the gin and vermouth bottles that appear.

 

Sam, I know you want a martini. I make them really dry,” He smiles.

I’ll wait,” I reply.

 

Satan shrugs. “Suit yourself. You guys are wasting a good new year’s eve.”

 

God sits on a sofa. He reaches inside his dinner jacket and takes out a pack of cigarettes. He lights one.

 

I light a cigarette.

 

I’m curious, Sam,” He smiles.

 

Sir ?”

 

The previous year have you thought about it,” He asks ?

 

I nod. “Everyday.”

 

Talk to me,” He offers. “Christy and I came back to the Philippines to be with her family. Her mom wanted her to keep the family together. My mom always told me family was everything.”

 

And,” God asks ?

 

Families change,” I shrug. “Times change. Over time, I guess the whole concept of family has changed. Humanity supposedly is in the process of evolving. I don’t mean to be a pessimist; but, I’m not sure humanity is evolving. I;m beginning to think, humanity is like a gerbil on an exercise wheel. We run in place and tell ourselves we are moving up the rungs of the ladder.”

 

Satan places his bulbous glass pitcher of martinis on the silver antique serving tray. The filled ice bucket, tall bottle of green olives, and a cocktail toothpick container. He places the tall, inverted pyramid martini glass on the tray. Then the carries the tray to the coffee table.

 

He pours a mixed martini into the glass. He uses the silver ice bucket tongs to plop two ice cubes into the liquid. He thrusts a cocktail toothpick into two olives and drops them in the martini. He raises the glass and smirks. “I love my martinis shaken. . .like my humans.”

 

Satan gets comfortable on the end of the sofa across from me. He sips His martini. “Mortal, I have a question for you.”

 

Sir ?”

 

I have watched you through the years. When God enters someone’s presence they usually tremble, go all weak at the knees, They never look Him in the face, Often, they drop down with their face in the dirt and their butts sticking up in the air, They start all their shrieking, groaning, crying, moaning, pleading, begging and theatrics. I enter the presence of humans and it is basically the same reaction plus I sense centuries of fear pouring from the pores of their bodies. “

 

God smiles at me, while Satan pauses in his narrative to sip His martini.

 

God enters your presence. I enter your presence. You do not act like the majority of the mortals. You look us in the eye. You offer us your hand. And, you welcome us. Why is that ?”

 

Respect, sir. I respect God. I respect You, Satan.”

 

Satan frowns. “Why don’t you tremble in Fear ?”

 

I smile. “With all due respect, sir, Daddy is a Texan. Momma is a Hillbilly. I was taught to respect people, not to fear them.”

 

God burst out in laughter. Satan scowls at me.

 

With all due respect, sir, the old prophets got it wrong. They preached “The Fear Of God.” You do not Love someone you Fear. Why would you want to Love someone you Fear ? Love and Respect should always be one and the same If you Respect, understand and admire someone, then, you should be capable of giving Love to that person or entity. If you have to Fear a person or entity then the person is not worth knowing and the entity is not worth worship.”

 

Satan shifts on the sofa and leans forward to look me in the eye.

 

You do not fear, me ?”

 

As a child, sir, I was taught to Fear You. The Global Mindset is You Fear Satan. As an older adult, I am Leery of you. You have your own agenda. I doubt it is in my best interest. However, while the World credits You with complete Evil, I realize an important scientific principle that if You were the complete entity of negative energy that You are suppose to be, then, You could not exist because that much negative energy would destroy itself. Your ultimate success would be your oblivion.”

God laughs loudly. “For the scientifically-challenged, Satan, Sam, is saying if your bark was really as bad as your bite, your own rabies would of killed you centuries ago.”

 

Satan whirls around and his face flashes anger to God. “I get it !”

 

He scowls back at me, “You should Fear me, mortal. A mere thought and your molecules are in the wind. You cease to exist”

 

I nod. “With respect, sir. You do not have to threaten me to destroy me. A mere thought and I am no more. If you have decided to destroy me, then, no amount of pleading, begging, protestations, oaths, prayers, whining, crying, groping, lying on the ground or crawling around on the ground will save me. Let us forget the Soap Opera theatrics and cut to the chase.”

 

Satan frowns, sips his martini. He eats his olives and sips His martini once more. He sits the glass on the coffee table. He unbuttons His tuxedo jacket, and leans back on the sofa with a smirk.

 

Sam, you are one arrogant human. The only reason I can appreciate, and even tolerate such mortal arrogance, is because it has been eons since I met a human, who did not cringe in fear the instant that I materialized in their presence.”

 

Satan removes His slender silver cigarette case from inside His jacket pocket. He takes a cigarette and offers me one. I take a cigarette. He takes the lighter from his pants pocket and lights His cigarette. He hands me the lighter. I light my cigarette and hand Him back His lighter that He places by His cigarette case.

 

He points His lit cigarette at me. “This is what I mean. A simple gesture. I offer you a cigarette and you accept. You have any idea through the ages, how many times I have offered a human a cigarette and they have turned me down ? The Fear of humans, their paranoia, their insecurity that is what enslaves people. They are prisoners of their own mind.

 

Granted, I always have my own agenda. Nonetheless, even Satan is capable of protocol, civility and manners. Anyone who is aware of my reputation realizes I don’t need a cigarette lighter to burst someone into flames. Nor, do I need Freon or Liquid Nitrogen to chill them into oblivion.” Satan smiles.

 

Satan,” God interrupts. “You were the One who said He didn’t want to talk religion, spirituality or business tonight.”

True,” Satan remarks. “I seldom find a ‘thinking mortal” to talk to. Most humans just regurgitate what has been preached at them since Day One their Lives began. This human actually tries to form thoughts to think for himself. It is rare to find a human that tries to use the brain God gives a human.”

 

I shrug. “I am, who I am, sir.”

 

God rises and crushes out his cigarette in the huge glass astray on the coffee table. In an instant, the ashes disappears and the glass sparkles once more. “You, gentlemen, talk.”

 

God steps back and unbuttons His white tuxedo. “Since Satan tends to like ritzy penthouses, I imagine this establishment,is at the very least, below us a five star hotel, which means there is a complete catering staff. Translation. I’m going to find a menu and call, Room Service. Can I order anyone else anything ?”

 

Satan turns and points at the back wall to the bar. “There is a menu on the counter.”

 

Satan pours himself another martini and offers me one. “No, thank you. I would appreciate some coffee, when it is convenient”

 

A silver serving tray of a hot pot of coffee, a creamer and a sugar bowl appear. Six plain white china coffee cups appear on their saucers. I pour a fresh cup of hot coffee. Satan settles back on the sofa with His fresh martini. He sips.

 

I take it, you do not believe the traditional human, global views of Satan.”

 

No, sir. The ideas are silly.” Satan laughs. “Please, explain. I am anxious to hear this,” He leans forward and lights a cigarette.

 

I light a cigarette. “First, sir. The old prophets meant well, but they tried to stack the deck in God’s favor. You are suppose to be God’s arch enemy. The old prophets claim that you are a fallen archangel. That can not be. An archangel, even the senior most ranking archangel of Heaven, would never have The Power to triumph over God. They stacked the deck in God’s favor.

 

Satan smirks. “You don’t think I could defeat God ?”

 

I smile. “What I believe is irrelevant. In order for You to be the Supreme Threat to God, You would have to be an entity, who shares the ability to acquire and use The Power Of The Universe. I have no doubt that You, sir, are more than capable.”

 

Then, why haven’t I,” teases Satan ?

 

Why would You ?” Satan smiles and leans forward to look me in the eye. “What would you have to gain ? Triumph. Victory. You win. Then, the work of rebuilding begins. You would have to institute some type of government and create a framework for the various segments of humanity. With all due respect, sir, Your area of expertise is negative energy; not positive energy. Even in Chaos there needs to be a level of Order or the anarchy and destruction becomes an endless loop of creation and destruction.”

 

Satan smiles widely and sips His martini. He leans back against the sofa and stretches out his arms. “You have it all figured out,” He asks ?

 

I shrug. “I have figured out what I needed to understand for my Life to make sense. An Eternal War is not only insane, but, silly because nothing would ever be achieved. The violence, pain and suffering would be never-ending. A Constant State Of War is Complete And Total Chaos because the process of creation and destruction is never-ending. It is a cycle with no beginning and no end. War. All War has to end, otherwise, War has no meaning and Peace has no meaning.”

 

Satan grins broadly. He stands up and removes His tuxedo jacket. He lies it on the back of the sofa and sits back down. He crouches over the coffee table. I sip my coffee.

 

I am intrigued, mortal. You reject that I am a senior-ranking archangel. You reject that I am the Ultimate Military Commander Of All The Evil Forces In The Universe. I sense you respect, but, don’t buy into the whole “Aristocratic” view, so you won’t be impressed by my titles of “Prince Of Darkness” and “Lord Of The Underworld.” Tell me, then, what or who do you think I am ?”

 

For the record, sir, you want me to express my ‘honest opinion’ and you will hear it out before you react ?”

 

Satan smirks. “Okay. I’ll let you have your say before I get upset and turn you to ash on the sofa.”

 

What or Who do you think I am ?”

 

I sip my coffee and sit the cup on the saucer.

With all due respect, sir, I believe, You are The Dark Side Of God.”

 

Satan grins and leans back on the sofa. “How did you arrive at that conclusion ?”

 

I lean across the coffee table. “The Ancient Art Of Common Sense, sir. Humanity states One God is the Ultimate Force Of Time, Space And Creation In The Universe. Humanity ignores the Duality Factor. One of Anything Can Always Be Divided Into Two. A Half Is Always A Part Of A Whole. Therefore, for God to be One, He also has to have a Duality within. To be Holy, all of the positive energy of God would have had to encounter all of the negative energy within God – His Dark Side.”

 

Satan grins. “And, walah ? God creates Satan.”

 

I smile. “I am a writer, sir. I would bring the story on down.”

 

Satan leans forward and smiles. “Then, by all means, please, do.”

 

God The Entity would have realized that He would have to ‘cast out” the negative energy. Thus, at the instant of Creation, God became positive and Satan became negative.”

 

And, The Eternal War Of Good And Evil Rages For All Eternity,” trumps Satan raising his glass and finishing off his martini. He sits the glass on the table.

 

You ain’t buying the old Good versus Evil routine; are you,” asks Satan ?

 

With respect, sir. No. You and God are Victims Of Your Own Success. Sodom and Gomorrah are prime examples. As the Supreme Positive Intellectual Energy Of The Universe there was no need for God to destroy the two cities. A gesture and the complete infrastructure of the cities would of changed. The government, the society everything within the walls would of changed and God could of simply Rained Down Thornless Roses on the population. People would have been dancing and singing in the streets.”

 

Freewill,” retorts Satan !

 

With respect, sir. Freewill is a cop-out. The lamest excuse of humanity. Freewill is mankind’s excuse to put God and Satan on the bench for all of humanity. Freewill is mankind’s excuse to justify stupid decisions and allow people to get away without accepting responsibility.

Freewill is a crock. Freewill is still a choice. A choice always comes with responsibility. Freewill is cowardice impersonating courage.

 

Freedom means a person makes a choice and realizes they have to accept the responsibility that comes with the choice.

 

Freewill is for fools. The world is full of fools.

 

God had the Freedom Of Choice to decide how to deal with Sodom and Gomorrah Had He choose to change all the minds of all the citizens into a positive frame of mind, He would of maintained “The Holy Perfection Concept.”

 

Satan laughs. “You believe because God went all Good Ole’ Boy on Sodom and Gomorrah, He destroyed His credibility and integrity ?”

 

No, sir. When God went “postal”, He proved that even God understands Revenge, Payback, Vengeance, and “Setting The Record Straight.” Plus, He gave the Dumb Dumb Doomsday Prophets Of Planet Earth Their Best Doom And Gloom Story. Every pessimistic prophet who comes along simply takes the Sodom and Gomorrah story to the extreme for the latest version of Armageddon, Apocalypse, The Four Horsemen, The Rapture, and any other end of the world tale they wish to tell.”

 

The glitch God made was that His decision to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah meant that He was capable of violence, which is almost always considered a negative act.

 

How could A Pure, Supreme, Perfect, Holy God Of The Universe carry out a negative act ?

 

Satan laughs, “You are on a roll, professor. Please, answer your own question.”

 

He could not, sir. Based on the strictest definitions of the words involved, there is no loophole that would apply. There can be only one explanation. For all the supreme positive perfection, at least, an iota of negative energy had to remain for God to be able to understand and relate to His negative side.

 

Satan laughs. He unbuttons his shirt collar and pours a fresh martini. He plops the ice and the olives in the glass. He grabs up the glass and crouches over the coffee table to look me in the eyes.

 

Hallelujah ! Preacher ! Bring it on home,” teases Satan. “Of course, in the New Testament, God has become more laid back. Your explanation will have to take that into account, reverend.”

 

I pick up my coffee cup and finish it and sit the empty cup on the saucer. I smile and sit back on the sofa. “I am a mere mortal.”

 

Satan laughs and shakes his head. “I’m not letting you off the hook that easy. I want to hear the rest of this story.”

 

I point at Satan’s cigarette case and he offers me one. With a lit cigarette, I exhale the smoke and smile.

 

If God has an iota of negative energy, sir.”

 

Satan leans across the coffee table. “Have I ever mentioned I do not appreciate writers who keep their readers in suspense ?”

 

No, sir.” I smile. “If God has an iota of negative energy, then, sir, You must have an iota of positive energy.”

 

Satan spills his drink on the table. He sits down the glass and rises. He walks behind the sofa. He frowns. He thrusts a finger into His chest.

 

Me ! The Supreme King Of Negativity ! Lord Of The Underworld ! The Oldest Evil The World Has Ever Known ! I ! You see that I have. . .an iota. . .of positive energy flowing through my Immortal Veins !

 

Satan turns, thrusts out His arm, opens His hand and a wide corridor of flame sprays forward. The floor length drapes over the monolithic vertical windows are incinerated in an instant. Then, a blast of cold air from his palm freezes and whisk away the ashes. He smirks. “I really did like those drapes.”

 

He puts His hands on His hips and scowls at me. “I am The Bad Guy !”

 

Yes, sir. I did not mean to offend or infer anything else,” I explain.

 

Satan sits back down and sips His martini. He puts the olives between His teeth and gnashes down.

 

In Your world view, God is the positive energy. I am the negative energy. Since you reject the traditional view of your fellow humans in my role. What is the role You cast for Me ?”

You are, sir, The Businessman. You realize humans don’t get out of bed, in the morning, without a reason. You gave them a reason; they work or they starve to death. No one likes the feeling of hunger.

 

Satan laughs. “You see me as a businessman.”

 

The Businessman, sir. The world is and always has been full of insane evil. Horrific acts that are executed without any logic or rationale. You can attribute the insane evil to demons, denizens of Hell or just really sick humans, who have their own warped worldview.

 

Evil or Negative Acts With A Universal Purpose, I attribute to You, sir. If you were simply interested in violence, then, Chaos would be never-ending. Your Evil always serves a purpose. You are not the type of impulsive entity that waste time, energy and effort to satisfy a short-term gratification.”

 

Satan rises and brushes the lint of His tuxedo pants. He looks at me and smiles.

 

Samuel. You are dangerous. You think for yourself. You don’t ‘conform to the norm’ unless you have a reason. Right or wrong, you choose to use the brain God gave you.”

 

God strolls back into the penthouse, wearing a white buttoned single breasted tuxedo with his matching western boots. Satan snickers. “You ran into your wife, I can tell by the wardrobe change. She didn’t like what you was wearing.”

 

God smirks and steps aside. A large rectangular table appears. The pristine silver serving trays in the center contains a cornucopia of various and delicious delicacies. “Supper time,” smiles God, seating Himself at the head of the table. Satan sits to God’s right. I sit on God’s left.

 

It all looks delicious,” I remark. “But, Christy is cooking supper.”

 

God nods. “Understood, Sam. You will have an appetite in that dimension. Here, you need to eat to keep up your strength. Let’s bypass the science lesson and go straight to the aesthetics and philosophy. Think of the food on this table as ‘Food For Thought’ and ‘Food For The Imagination” and “Food For The Soul.”

 

Angelic waiters and waitresses, in their uniforms appear, and begin to place plates of food, in front of us. “Bon Ape-tit,” chimes God.

 

Satan smiles. “God, your mortal, Samuel, here, has some real interesting ideas about religion, humanity and your lifeforms on planet earth.”

 

God nods. “I am completely aware of Sam’s ideas.”

 

God smiles at me and looks at Satan. “You know as well as I anytime we are on earth, we are usually expected to play by the old ideas, rules, concepts and mythologies. When I get bored, I swing by Sam’s dorm room, barracks room or house.”

 

Satan smirks. “All these years and you haven’t been able to change His Freewill ?”

 

God grins at Satan. “He is a human, who has the Freedom Of Choice.”

 

God dabs the napkin at the corner of His mouth. “Satan, why would you complain ? He gave you a Portfolio Personality. He attributes Method To Your Madness. Most people just view you as a global infection of insanity that sweeps humanity.”

 

Satan nods. “My style usually doesn’t go unnoticed and therefore unappreciated.”

 

Satan sit back in the chair. “He is humanizing us.”

 

Don’t be silly,” God remarks. “Sam explains us in human form, but, we retain all our powers.”

 

God looks at me. “Forgive, my manners, Sam. I am putting words in your mouth.”

 

It is fine, sir. What you said is true. Humanity fears what it can not or will not try to understand. When God or Satan is thought of as a universal mist in an unreachable dimension, then, people, when they do worship, only worship out of fear and not respect.”

 

Ah,” smirks Satan. “You wish to bring back The Old Pagan Gods And Goddesses ?”

 

I finish chewing my bite of food and smile up at Satan. “Not without, a shave, a haircut, and a complete entourage of human professionals to assist them in everything from fashion to child-rearing.”

 

Satan frowns. “Why do you find the Old Gods and Goddesses so interesting ?”

 

I dab the napkin to my lips. “They were engaged. They were on the ground, They were in country. They worked with their citizens. They inspired their citizens. They gave their citizens faith, hope, inspiration, purpose, ambition, drive and the initiative to work for better lives in The Real World and beyond.”

 

Satan shrugs. “Modern religion does the same.”

 

God laughs and smiles at Satan. “You have opened a can of worms.”

 

With all due respect, sir, No. The One God deity is a couch potato watching the wide screen TV of the universe. The Soap Opera lives of humans are in a distant dimension. Humanity is a never-ending Reality TV broadcast that God allows because if He ever clicks off the remote.”

 

Well,” asks Satan ? I dab the napkin to my mouth.

 

God would simply have to begin The Creation Process Of Earth or an Earth-like planet all over again. You both like to watch the humans. Humans love to live. Earth allows the humans the opportunity to try and relate to and identify with The Creator.”

 

God scoots back his chair and rises from the table. He reaches inside His tuxedo jacket and takes out a cigar. He smiles at Satan and uses the cigar cutter to nip off the end.

 

Relax. Your wife went with my wife. They are doing the New Year’s Eve party circuit,” smiles God.

 

Satan frowns as God lights his cigar and puts the lighter back in His pocket. God blows at the embers in the cigar. “Satan, You keep frowning like that and you will have all kinds of wrinkles on your horns.”

 

I rise from the table and God offers me a cigar that I accept and light. We retire back to the living room.

 

Satan approaches with a cigar and snaps his fingers to light it. “Centuries Of Immortality and The Lord Of Darkness is still doing kid’s party tricks.”

 

Satan smirks. “If you got it; flaunt it.”

God blows a smoke ring. “Incidentally, Lilith said to remind you to behave.”

 

Right,” sneers Satan. “Like she is going to go out tonight and be so responsible. “ Satan puffs on his cigar and looks at the images passing on the TV.

 

He gestures with His cigar. “If we are going to do The Real World New Year’s Eve Party, we probably should get back to that dimension.

 

No rush,” smiles God. “There is plenty of time. We have put the old year to bed.”

 

God grins, “Now, let’s move forward with our plans to welcome in the New Year.”

 

Could we, maybe, speed it up to have the celebration sometime this century,” smirks Satan ?

 

Relax, Satan,” God remarks. A gold pocket watch appears in his hand. He opens it and shows us the hands point to nine pm.

 

I have this Time thing down to a fine art and science,” smiles God.

 

Satan looks at me.

 

If God said there is plenty of time; who am I to question God,” I smile.

TICK TOCK TRAVEL TIME THUMBNAIL

Sam

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

Fast Christmas Coronation by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

with 2 comments

Personal Business Editorial

Fast

Christmas

Coronation

 

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

When, my wife, Christy Warren and I first returned to the Philippines the exuberance and the pomp and circumstance ranked up there in the old black and white news reels with the Coronation Of Queen Elizabeth.

 

Christy was returning to her native Leyte and the pomp and circumstance had all the trimmings of The Royal Wedding of Prince Charles and Princess Dianna.

 

CHRISTMAS STAR THUMBNAIL LOGOI stood at the airport in Manila and for the briefest instant expected to see a royal carriage pulled by white horses trotting up the taxi lane in front of the airport .

 

We were both anxious to get to our final destination of the island of Leyte. However, family members were intent on their “meet and greet” ceremonies in Manila.

 

Then, of course, our royal itinerary had changed to add an unofficial “Goodwill Visit To Angeles City.”

 

Queen Christy Warren, Her Royal Majesty, was being treated to all the honors and accolades that she deserved. Prince Samuel of The Ozarks and The Duke Of East Texas was smiling and doing “the wave.”

 

The only thing missing from the royal entourage was The Official Press Corps. In the back of my mind, I knew the royal budget had the letter W associated with it and the name would not be Windsor.

 

The Strange American

 

On the ground, in Leyte, the procession of “Well-Wishers” came with the exuberance of visitors to Buckingham Palace for an “audience” with “Queen Christy” and a chance to see “The Strange American.”

 

Is he taller or shorter than General MacArthur ?”

 

He’s a Texan, right ?”

 

Where is Missouri ?”

 

What is the Ozarks ?”

 

Hillbilly is that a religion or a political party in the US ?”

 

 

Between Tagalog, Waray and English, I would hear strange questions whispered about me. Maybe, I should of cared, but, as long as they were the old, “Who is this guy ? ” question, then, I just smiled it off.

 

By January, it was obvious that most of the attendees at the mythical Christmas Coronation weren’t family members grateful that Christy had returned home.

 

The name Warren had proven not to be the name Windsor and no one from the “palace household” followed up on the holiday requests.

 

The Warrens Of The Ozarks had no serious intent to become Lloyd s Of London and the domestic policy issues involved The Saldana Family. Christy had come home to be with her family.

 

Any community initiatives and ongoing economic development that concerned the Warren Family in Barangay Baras would have to involve the overall Saldana Family.

 

Local people seemed to have had envisioned a British Monarchy arrival, but, the reality is the family approach was more a Joseph Kennedy Hyannis Port, Massachusetts Family approach.

 

Blood And Biology”

 

A person is more than his DNA, RNA, chromosomes and biological compounds. The members of a family are more than people who share “Blood And Biology” traits.

 

Saint Samuel’s Basilica

 

I have always been interested in heraldry,chivalry and genealogy, but, for the Christmas 2011 celebration, there were just too many people at Saint Samuel’s Basilica.

 

We didn’t have the pilgrims in the square awaiting the annual Christmas message, we had people who rushed through the jungle courtyard of Saint Samuel’s Basilica to seek an audience with Christy. I assumed the role of the concerned cardinal.

 

Cardinal Samuel nodded a lot and smiled a lot. But, I was interested to see were the well wishers and “faithful” were headed in their Christmas interpretations I looked forward to December 26, 2011. I wanted to know if “The Spirit Of Goodwill” was “The Real Deal” or just “Christmas Cheer.”

 

As the new year of 2012 approached, it became clear Saint Samuel’s Basilica would have to accept a more secular and business approach. Relatives were leaving and the shift in the idea of “family” day to day was becoming more like Missouri weather – changeable.

 

One Warren Way

 

By March 2012, it had become obvious that the Christmas Season was past and One Warren Way was a private home with it’s own “family” agenda. The opportunists went somewhere else. The family wannabe lobbyists had made their travel arrangements to return to other destinations in the Philippines.

 

In April 2012, Christy opened her CSW Cafe and got her dream to own and operate her own cafe. She provides good food to the community at a decent price. She became a business woman, who provided jobs.

 

Family members were offered the opportunity to work in her cafe. A few to date have accepted to work with Christy and her dream. Some did not.

 

By the Warren Fiscal Year of October 1, 2011, God was still in his Heaven, Sam and Christy were headquartered at One Warren Way with “Family.”

 

Holiday Historian

 

The Government of the Philippines dealt with their daily challenges of 2012, The Government of the United States tried to deal with international business and the carry on the traditional “Presidential Campaign” fiesta of every four years.

 

The major entertainment of any democracy relies on the Presidential or Prime Ministerial Election. The Warren and Saldana Family of Leyte settled down to the day to day business of life in Barangay Baras.

 

I have had a lifelong interest in all types of history. I got enough college hours under the belt to know how to do the data collection, compilation and analysis routine to examine an issue from all angles. I had collected the data from Christmas Day 2011 and examined the photographs I had taken.

 

I had enough data to take on the role of “Holiday Historian” and render a verdict on Christmas Day 2011 and the irony is the Christmas Season of 2012 provided the hours to complete the task.

 

Home For The Holidays

 

By October 1, 2012, I looked forward to my birthday, October 30, Halloween, October 31 and the end of 2012.

 

Christy looked forward to Christmas, December 25, 2012 and the New Year of 2013.

 

Christy decided to close the CSW Cafe for the Christmas Season of 2012 to spend some time at “Home For The Holidays.”

 

A year has passed, since we returned to the Philippine Islands. I have had time to reflect and look at The Fast Christmas of 2011. The photographer’s habit of having a camera growing out of the end of your hand provided valuable snapshots of time throughout the previous year.

 

Fast Christmas Fiscal Fiasco

 

The Life Learning Lesson of Fast Christmas 2011 is simple: people are people. We all have our good points and our bad points. Human nature goes beyond flags, passports and visas.

 

Some people will take advantage of you, regardless, what day of the year it is. In a perfect world, you would always be able to count on “Family.” The world is not perfect and some family members do not see “The Big Picture.”

 

In the early 21st Century, the “Fast Food” and “Fad” psychology of “Instant This,” “Instant That” and the evolving technology of “Upgrades” and “Real Time” has convinced people to focus on the “Short Haul” to try and plan for their lives. The end result is “people live from payday to payday without a plan to reach a comfortable retirement.”

 

To some people Christmas is simply another day to try and rip people off. To some people, “Family” is simply a six letter word in an English dictionary. To some people Christmas is just a holiday to be used to try and set up “pie-in-the-sky” business deals.

 

Fast Christmas had not been about Christmas at all.

Fast Christmas was various attempts to use Christmas Day 2011 to setup a mood of trust by friends, acquaintances and some family members.  Then, in 2012 the trust could be called upon to support series of changing, financial ventures to profit a few people.  Human nature being human nature some people will try to point the finger and try to make you feel “guilty” to get their way.

 

Some friends and family members had their own ideas about what Christy and I could do to help them. But, they didn’t have any ideas that would benefit the entire family or the surrounding communities as a whole. The “flash in the pan” business brainstorms didn’t work because my wife “The Boss” is a business woman, who always considers “The Big Picture.” 

Christy’s husband, “Sam the Cynic” needs to be able to visualize a “Real World” result.  I have an imagination.  However, I grew up in Missouri and you have got to “Show Me.” Unless I see three or four colts galloping in the field, I’m not going to invest in a “Unicorn Farm”, I don’t care how good the presentation is.

 

 

 

Mentor Mothers

 

Nenita Quezon Saldana told her daughter, Christy, “Keep The Family Together.” Opal M. DeLong Warren told her son, Samuel, “Family Is Everything.” Both mothers were right about their beliefs in family. Both mothers, knew their daughter and son would understand the changing nature of “Family” and “Business.”

 

To me Christmas is about watching kids have fun with their toys, brothers, sisters, cousins and to be able to set down to a table of delicious food and drink and feast like Henry the VIII, my favorite English king.

Henry knew, “How To Party Down !”

 

Other family members are welcome to apply their own meanings to Christmas to celebrate the holiday in a manner of their own choosing.

 

Fiscal Christmas Of 2011

 

Christmas Day 2011, I lean back in the chair at the table and loosen two notches on my brown leather western belt. “That hit the spot. Wonder what kind of feast Cousin Donna cooked this year back in Missouri,” I said aloud to Christy’s Cousin Romel sitting across the table from me.

 

Christmas Eve 2012, I put away the “Demonyo Itlog” – deviled eggs – macaroni salad, potato salad, rice, and enjoyed Mississippi Mud chocolate candy with my coffee. The women cleared away the table and sit down to a bottle of Christy’s red wine and the Philippines’ “Tuba”, coconut wine.

 

The men after dinner adjourned to the area by the Christmas Tree to enjoy Tuba and an evening of conversation.

A glance at Christy’s cell phone revealed an absence of “Blood and biology family” Christmas wishes for the holiday, which confirmed what I suspected that “Fast Christmas of 2011” was really “Fiscal Christmas of 2011.”

 

 

 

A Yuletide Toast To Henry VIII

 

I sit down with the men to celebrate Christmas Eve 2012 and loosen the waist of my walking shorts. I grin at Ramon, “I bet Cousin Donna has started cooking Christmas Dinner in the States. She always starts a couple days ahead of time, And, when I start to chow down on the hot biscuits she serves, I have to remind myself to leave room for pie.”

 

Kuya Sam, Merry Christmas.”

 

Merry Christmas, Ramon.”

 

I raise my tall coffee cup, “Merry Christmas to Henry the VIII,” I grin.

 

Henry the VIII, Kuya Sam ?”

 

I laugh.”Long story, Ramon. One of my favorite English kings, who knew how to enjoy a great meal and good conversation.”

Sam

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

Written by samwarren55

December 29, 2012 at 7:27 AM

Posted in Bloggers, Blogs, Business, Current Events, Editorial, Family, Holidays, Money, Observances, Opinion, Philippines

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