{"id":12925,"date":"2019-07-19T16:07:58","date_gmt":"2019-07-19T16:07:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/victorhugocollection.com\/?p=12925"},"modified":"2019-07-21T13:49:37","modified_gmt":"2019-07-21T13:49:37","slug":"the-character-you-love-to-hate-is-resurrected-in-one-of-art-histories-most-contentious-sagas-titled-redemption-the-story-of-the-crackhead-jesus-trials-part-ii-the-second-coming-of-t-2-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/victorhugocollection.com\/the-character-you-love-to-hate-is-resurrected-in-one-of-art-histories-most-contentious-sagas-titled-redemption-the-story-of-the-crackhead-jesus-trials-part-ii-the-second-coming-of-t-2-2\/","title":{"rendered":"THE CHARACTER YOU LOVE TO HATE IS RESURRECTED, IN ONE OF ART HISTORIES MOST CONTENTIOUS SAGA’S; TITLED, \u201cRedemption: The Story Of The Crackhead Jesus Trials – Part II – The Second Coming Of The Three Muses.\u201d\u00a9 By Victor-Hugo Vaca II."},"content":{"rendered":"
\u201cRedemption: The Story Of The Crackhead Jesus Trials \u2013 Part II: The Second Coming Of The Three Muses.\u201d\u00a9<\/p>\n
By Victor-Hugo Vaca II.<\/p>\n
\u00a9 2017 Victor-Hugo Vaca II All rights reserved.<\/p>\n
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it<\/em>.” \u00a0– John 1:5<\/p>\n CRACKHEADJESUS\/CRACK-HEAD JESUS\/ krak-hed jee-zuh z\/<\/strong>\u00a0(noun) 1. a contemptibly obnoxious person, jerk 2. a person who indulges in hypocrisy, hypocrite 3. a person or force seen as opposing Christ, Antichrist, a person or thing regarded as supremely evil or as a fundamental enemy or opponent, devil, satan.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n Prelude:<\/p>\n “Somewhere in time.<\/em>“- VHVII<\/p>\n CHAPTER I<\/p>\n [Spiders]\n Evil surrounded me in my restless slumber, when a bitter cold washed over me, as I felt my soul currency, being filled, with light and love. At that moment, I found myself lying in a room full of spiders: Tarantulas, actually and they weren\u2019t biting or crawling over me, they simply surrounded me, swaying and pulsating, like a hairy mob, in a dense room with no furniture, windows, or doors.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “I am that I am.” An unfamiliar voice seeped into my subconscious, while I wrestled with familiar dreams and nightmares.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n The throbbing ceiling and glossed walls were painted\u00a0stark white, in contrast to the rose haired tarantulas that encircled my position at the center of the square room. The ominous murmuration of arachnids manifested a strangely sensual, ebb and flow of rhythmic color that danced along the floor towards my naked body.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “The debt of a man’s soul is paid by his children.” A Stranger’s voice floated into my eardrums, through wind gusts created by the sound of billions of spider hairs crashing into each other.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cThink Seven Generations forward in compassionate wealth.\u201d The Voice carried over the maddening sound of infinite flexible spider limbs crunching, crawling and moving swiftly, within earshot of my consciousness, manifested in reality. <\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cDo not be a Crackheadjesus.\u201d The Voice added five words, that echoed like blasphemy in a house of hypocrites, piercing through the noise of countless spiders and settling into the pit of my being, like acid rain.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cBlasphemy!\u201d A Devil shouted through the madness, as a thousand spider hairs tickled my toes.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Make sure the Witches of Which, Witch, Wicca and Wich fail to manifest George Orwell’s ‘1984’ in reality. One plus one does not equal three.” The prophetic words of a stranger, who introduced himself as, Crackhead Jesus, thrust me into a full-blown nightmare, while I pushed against an ethereal heaviness, that kept me pinned to sweat drenched sheets on a dirty mattress. A bright,\u00a0blinding,\u00a0light then flashed into my petrified, wide-open eyes,\u00a0as I struggled, without strength, to wake up.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “You just got hit by a Mack truck, Maggot!” Pressure in the room was palpable, when the voice of Crackhead Jesus tapped into my steel, fiber of being.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “I will let you live as long as you do what I tell you.” The moment Crackhead Jesus threatened my life, from behind the bright light, I felt a sharp, cold, metal blade, on my bulging, neck-vein.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n His words breathed deep into my soul and lingered, like bittersweet memories of lost love in a toxic relationship.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Kill your roommate!\u201d Crackhead Jesus\u00a0shouted, at me, with fierce command, as\u00a0I was held down, by an ethereal burden, that refused to release my soul into the waking state. \u201cDo you understand, you worthless, Maggot?”<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n I lay silent, without moving or breathing, while praying for the nightmare to end, as I listened for what seemed like an eternity, to my frail roommate cry and moan, in extreme physical agony and mental pain, while being mercilessly beaten with socks full of quarters and pummeled with venomous words, repeatedly, within inches of his life and arms-length of my reach.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cAnd you were never at the keg party!\u201d Crackhead Jesus added, as\u00a0I gasped for air against the razor-sharp blade that nicked my tender Adam\u2019s apple. \u201cYou never saw me! Do you understand? You, Bon-Jovi-faggot!\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cHelp!\u201d My assaulted roommate begged, while bawling, repeatedly, from inches away, as I struggled to survive, under the heavy burden, pushed down upon my fiber of being, by toxic supervision, at the world-famous leadership laboratory, in Annapolis, Maryland.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cIf you say my name, you are a dead man. Accidents happen on Aircraft Carriers, you know: You may, unwittingly, get sucked into a fighter jet engine. Your spic and Spanish body parts will be mopped up, swept overboard and feed fish; while the Captain, makes sure your parents get a nicely-folded-flag, in honor of your service, you worthless, piece-of-shit!\u201d Crackhead Jesus’ words, took my breath away, with a vengeance, that suppressed me from uttering anything, as I lay, helpless, within soaking wet, white, satin, sheets, that enveloped my shivering, naked, body, like a cocoon, trapped in a dream, filled with undulating spiders.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n Just then, a solitary Black Widow spider gently made its way across my pale, petrified face and whispered into my throbbing ear, “Pray you flow. Flow and you will pray for more.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n I tried desperately to wake up and escape the nightmare but the dense heaviness kept my body immobile, with tribally tattooed arms, outstretched, like Jesus on a cross. \u00a0I felt the hands of the Devil, deep inside me, trying to shake the soul currency out of my aching body, as the Black Widow spider tickled the hairs inside my ear while whispering; “Just be and all your prayers will manifest.”<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n My eyes flickered as my sanity caved in on itself, when I heard the Black Widow spider, inside my brain, say, \u201cYou are about to embark on a journey, into the New Age of Aquarius. You will meet many false prophets and lawyers along the way.”<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n I felt the Black Widow spider, dancing inside my aching head and heard strange words in the melody she hummed, while I witnessed her vocal frequencies and wavelengths manifest into colors and hues, as curious images of futures, past and present, flashed swiftly, across my soft, blank, stare, into the multi-universe. <\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n The Black Widow sang lucidly, like a dark angel; humming haunting hymns, into the fiber of my being while repeating a chorus of questions ad nauseam, \u201cDo you understand, My Love? Do you understand?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n A trinity of muses then appeared in a rainbow of colors within my being. The wisdom of generations pounded inside my chest, as the shrill voice of a Black Widow spider, nesting within me, floated onto a stream of profound melodies that drowned out the horror of my existence. At that moment, I surrendered in wonder, as The Three Muses sang sweetly, into my soul, “Be, The Artist. Do not be despondent. Trust your instinct and put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of Crackhead Jesus, the devil and his coven of supreme legal counsel at the enchanted law firm of Which, Witch, Wicca and Wich.”<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n Like a spinal tap, through my basic instinct, the sharp sting of a Black Widow spider downloaded generations of primal, carnal knowledge into the fiber of my being as The Three Muses continued to sing songs of strength into my soul; \u201cYou will come across a big man, who claims to be a poor Jew, with a law degree, from a Roman Catholic University. Do not be fooled by the false prophet named, Crackhead Jesus. He will float in and out of your life with the wind, morphing into strange, disturbing fractals of existence, which you will document in art, for future generations. Crackhead Jesus will tempt and challenge you but do not give in to his negativity and hate, instead, you must shine through the darkness by learning to live, love and flow.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n Trillions of tiny feet tap danced inside my head at the sound of the name Crackhead Jesus. For an instant, that felt eternal, my being was consumed by ravenous spiders, whose frenzied pitter-patter of long, hairy, legs tickled words, while pounding questions and phrases into my head, that sounded like, \u201cWhat would Crackhead Jesus do?\u201d, \u201cCrackhead Jesus is coming\u201d and \u201cThere is only one rule, The Golden Rule.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cBeware of those you choose to trust on your journey.\u201d The Three Muses sang, as my head spun around in circles, to the rhythmic beat of a thousand undulating arachnids, performing lustful mating dances, within my throbbing psyche. \u201cCrackhead Jesus will introduce himself as a conservative Christian named Mister Rogers. In fact, he is a Wall Street bank lawyer and a judge-shopper, for the good-old-boys-club, at The Florida Bar.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cYou will meet a lawyer whose middle name is Rumpelstiltskin and he will commit perjury in the name of Crackhead Jesus.\u201d The Three Muses noted in chorus. \u201cHe will use the Court to exorcise demons conjured by Crackhead Jesus and in so doing will unleash the devil\u2019s minions from within dark shadows of the deep state. This fallen angel will rape the Constitution, in front of Lady Liberty, to force the unholy union of ego and greed; in the name of law.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n I felt the heat from the loins of the Black Widow as she seduced a male spider, full of hubris, with the politically incorrect words she whispered, inside my throbbing head. \u201cThe politics of the penis will bring man-made economies to their knees and Crackhead Jesus will manifest a gross conflict of interest, between ego and greed, that will infect generations, of global populations, with terminal distrust, of all government leadership and courts.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n I felt the sting of a Black Widow, sinking its fangs into an aggressive male spider, as he mounted and inseminated her inside my head. My body twitched and tingled as strange liquids traversed the chambers of my brain, while The Three Muses sang; \u201cCrackhead Jesus will be birthed by a White Conservative-Republican, transgender lesbian, with a huge penis and a very small clit. She will be artificially inseminated by a Black, Liberal-Democrat, transgender, bi-sexual, closeted-illegal-alien-transvestite, from Syria, with huge offshore-bank-accounts, a micro-penis, no testicles, or any legal identification and very close ties to the deep state, Russians and The Clinton Machine.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n My swollen bosom heaved and strained as the Black Widow spider spoke sternly into my cerebral cortex, \u201cThe birth of Crackhead Jesus will expose portals of existence within shadow governments and reveal a Holographic multi-universe, that perpetually unleashes the creation of corrupt, incompetent and unethical attorneys and judges, that hide within a Litigation vortex, that is propelling the United Slaves of America, through a New World Order and into The Modern Dark Ages. If not stopped, countless generations will be enslaved in a vicious cycle, of hypocrisy, avarice and apathy, as the new norm and God, for all people.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cIf this threat is allowed to transpire to its predicted conclusion, the union of justice and peace, as a reality within nature, the human fiber of being and instinct, will cease to exist.\u201d The Three Muses sang, as sharp hair, on the wet legs of the Black Widow spider, scratched the inside of my ear canal, while she thirst-fully devoured her limp suitor.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n The bizarre sensation of nature taking its course inside my head reminded me that I was alive and cognizant, but not at all well, inside the real world; living alongside the United Slaves of America, in The Age of Fake News, before The Modern Dark Ages.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n CHAPTER\u00a0II<\/p>\n [Crackhead Jesus Loves You]\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Fuck, Facebook!” The Hebrew Hammer shouted, as I picked up the script for Crackhead Jesus: The Movie, to read aloud. “Diversity of thought is under attack. Free your mind, Kid.”<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI was an outsider looking in, to what less than, one percent of the human race, gets to witness: A first generation Hispanic, with a world famous French name, who grew up in Hollis, Queens, New York, watching Run-DMC rap, while playing softball, at the park, and Spike Lee film, \u2018School Daze\u2019, while learning, at Brooklyn Tech, before hanging out with Nazi\u2019s and pedophiles, in the Paraguay jungle, near Iguazu Falls, rock stars and celebrities at private house parties, in Beverly Hills, California and crooked cops and corrupt nightclub owners, in South Beach, Miami, Florida, after leaving the world famous leadership laboratory, at the United States Naval Academy, in Annapolis, Maryland.\u201d\u00a0 I read out loud, from the heavy script, while pacing, in a room, filled with artwork and storyboards, painted on canvas, wood and paper.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s nice, Kid, but we\u2019re not writing a book, we\u2019re writing a screenplay.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer said, sarcastically.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re the script doctor, tell me what to do.\u201d I said, while tossing him the screenplay.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay.” He said, flipping through pages of my script. “We need to put those words in action.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s do it.\u201d I said, enthusiastically.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer said, stopping on page ten and shaking his head.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCrackhead Jesus loves you?\u201d He paused to stare at me, as if I were a fool. \u201cThat’s disgusting!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s love.\u201d I answered. \u201cYou said you were the best in the business. Fix it.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cCrackhead Jesus is beyond repair!\u201d The Hebrew Hammer shouted. \u201cListen, unless the Supreme Court strikes down the law banning disparaging trademarks, no one’s going to want to invest in this movie. The title puts you in the same category as The Slants and Redskins.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cI can see the headline, in global newspapers, when the Supreme Court decides to protect our freedom, to express the thoughts that we hate.” I said, looking into the future and pausing for a psychic moment. \u201cA remarkably high number of new applications for obscene and racist trademarks have been received at the US Patent and Trademarks Office.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cCock Sucker, Nigger Please, Crackhead Jesus and Dicks by Mail, to name just a few.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer laughed, while manufacturing a cross out of marijuana cigarettes on his special Bible. \u201cYou might as well try selling shit on a stick, Kid, because nobody\u2019s buying Crackhead Jesus.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not blasphemy, it\u2019s the truth.\u201d I answered in frustration, while watching a spider crawl along the moldy ceiling of our hotel room in Fort Myers, Florida, as the witching hour approached. “Besides, the Lord knows, a law forbidding official registration of offensive trademarks\u00a0unconstitutionally limits free speech. The Supreme Court will come to its senses one day, you’ll see. We’ll be walking the red carpet at the Academy Awards, handing out Crackhead Jesus is coming stickers to fake journalists.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cMaybe, when hell freezes over but I don\u2019t have time for this megillah.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer said, before pausing to take a sip of Kosher Beer, while sifting through his holey Bible. \u201cI told you, making a real Hollywood film ain\u2019t easy. The Thief and the Cobbler was in and out of production for thirty-one years and that was a fucking cartoon,\u00a0not Crackhead Jesus: The Movie, so, I suggest you pick your battles wisely, Kid.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t get it.\u201d I pleaded, while shoving modern-art-gonzo-journalism in his face.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cNo!\u201d He shouted. \u201cDu farkirtst mir di yorn!\u00a0<\/strong>You don\u2019t get it, your script’s fercockt.\u00a0<\/strong>This Crackhead Jesus is Meeskait, I’m telling you, it’s just downright ugly, like lying to your Mother on Mother\u2019s Day and I\u2019m not just any Jew, saying that, I\u2019m a seasoned script-doctor, with super-wealthy, movie-making friends, in Hollywood, telling, you, that.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer added, while handing me a joint, before changing his tone of voice. \u201cLight that, would you please, my Shabbos goy.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n Without fuss, I did as the Hebrew Hammer requested, took a toke and passed it back saying, \u201cDude, I can\u2019t make this stuff up. Crackhead Jesus is a court case, not blasphemy. Google, it.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “You say, what sounds like blasphemy, is a crooked justice system?”<\/p>\n “Is that Lisa Loeb?” I answered the Hebrew Hammer, with a question of trivia.<\/p>\n “You say, I only hear what I want to.” The Hebrew hammer sang, while bogarting the joint. “Yes, that you do, my free-spirited friend.” He laughed, while pointing a finger at me before looking deep into my cryptic creations. “But, you\u2019re the one keeping a diary of the world on canvas, as you\u00a0march\u00a0to the beat of your own drum, into uncharted realms of existence.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “It\u2019s modern-art-gonzo-journalism.\u201d I noted.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re making your life an open book, for the Lied to Generation to decipher, like ancient hieroglyphics.”<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cHunter S. Thompson did it in words, Dali did it in art and John Lennon did it in music. I\u2019m fusing all three into the Modern Art Music Movement,\u00a0disguised as, The Maverick Artist.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cOn stage, in real-time, during a revolutionary period in human history.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer noted, while furiously scribbling red ink, on the tenth rewrite of my script, about false prophets and lawyers titled, ‘Crackhead Jesus: The Movie’.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cWhile creativity is being threatened, by those who claim to champion free speech.\u201d I added, before getting up and walking, towards crates, that I had neatly stacked in a corner, near the bathroom.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cCultural genocide.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer sighed. \u201cIt’s happening.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “It’s a sign of the times. We’re coming to a fork in the road of human-history. To the right is an Age of Enlightenment, to the left, Very Dark Ages and in the middle, we have, the road less-traveled, which leads us all into the great unknown.” I said, while holding up a painting for the Hebrew hammer to reflect on, that I had created, on the same stage that Coldplay, The Rolling Stones and Billy Joel had performed, near South Hampton, at The Stephen Talkhouse, in Amagansett, Long Island, New York, during a momentous Modern Art Music Movement, MAMM Jam, with Big Suga.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Live. Love. Flow.” The Hebrew Hammer said, as he scratched his bald spot and stared at my work.<\/p>\n “We need balance, to pass through this wormhole into a Golden Age of Awakening.” I said, while pointing out subliminal messages hidden within the modern-art-gonzo-journalism painting.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “A very old Rabbi,\u00a0I met at the Western Wall, in the Old City of Jerusalem, once told me: The day creativity reaches its pinnacle\u00a0and we give up manifesting new realities, we cease to exist in time and space. Culturally, we fall back into the Dark Ages. At which point, he said, we\u2019re all doomed, because nothing grows well and thrives, in darkness and gloom.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer recalled, as I emptied a large crate full of artwork, for his careful consideration, all over the cramped hotel room.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “We all become mushrooms. I think that’s what his point was.” He said, while rummaging through his velvet Tallit and Tefillin Case, before pulling out a clear plastic bag full of fungus. “Speaking of which, I have some psychedelic treats with me, as well, my new, New York artist friend.” He sniffed inside the bag, while adding. “To spice up our time here, at The Welcome Inn, before your big show tomorrow.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t worry, Doofus. The Golden Rule will get us through the Dark Ages and we\u2019ll all blossom into a new Age of Enlightenment.\u201d I said, while shoving raw works of art in the Hebrew Hammer’s face, as he dangled a sandwich bag full of intoxicating mushrooms, in front of my weary, bloodshot eyes.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cYou’re so idealistic and with the help of mainstream news and culture outlets, like FOX and MSNBC, no doubt.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer said, sarcastically, as I emptied another crate full of artwork, for his consideration, all over our confined quarter. \u201cIt speaks volumes that artists, George Carlin and John Stewart, were the last great investigative reporters, in mainstream media, because as comedians, they could ask serious questions and here you are, now, with the dark comedy of Crackhead Jesus.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cLook.” I said, holding up a plethora of colorful story-boards on canvas. “Crackhead Jesus is not about anyone’s religion or God. Unemployed investigative journalists, contact me, with real news tips and folks fed up with fake news stories, who feel they are being ignored by police, government and mainstream media news outlets, they tell me what no one wants to hear and I paint their untold stories, giving them a voice, live, on stage, while channeling nature, through the art of creation, at major events.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cDressed in a black cowboy hat with skull and crossbones, looking like a redneck version of the band, Kiss.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer, said while digesting the strange visuals being thrown at his Mirror neurons, in rapid succession.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “I\u00a0give viewers an intense experience, summoning emotions and even activating other repressed senses, when I MAMM Jam on stage.” I said, before taking a long toke, to pause and reminisce, in colorful flashbacks, of Modern Art Music Movement Happenings, that I had participated in, around the globe.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “You make the ladies wet, do you?” The Hebrew Hammer said, sarcastically.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cI have extreme embodied cognition.\u201d I revealed.<\/p>\n \u201cSounds awful, what is that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe ability to project oneself as an agent into depicted scenes.\u201d I answered, adding, \u201cI capture bidirectional flow, in my mirror neurons, which gives me more vividness.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cReally, is that true or did you hear that on MSNBC?\u201d The Hebrew Hammer asked.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “I manifest reality, in front of thousands of people, at big concerts and charity events, with huge, global acts, in famous venues, at historic locations, full of ghosts, where I meet Light-Workers, from all over the Universe, while I travel around the world and across the\u00a0United States, painting untold stories and news, disguised as, The Maverick Artist.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cSo, you paint the news, from coast to coast, dressed like, you\u2019re alter-ego, the greatest American superhero, from an 80’s rock band. Then you use the modern-art-gonzo-journalism you created during your world tour with the Modern Art Music Movement, as film storyboards, for a modern-day parable of redemption. All, told through the eyes of a character, named, Crackhead Jesus, that is offending everyone, in this upside-down, politically-correct, no-free-speech world.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Crackhead Jesus, is the opposite of Jesus Christ.” I noted clearly, as thunder struck outside the door. “WWCHJD?”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “The Anti-Christ.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer said, while staring into the face of the shape-shifter, Crackhead Jesus; a painting I had manifested at a benefit MAMM Jam with mentally challenged children in Naples, Florida, the day before our curious Sabbath, at The Welcome Inn.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Check this out.” I said, while looking at my cell phone. “Facebook Nazi’s reported a Crackhead Jesus meme to Facebook police and had me thrown out of an offensive Facebook group.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “What?” The Hebrew Hammer asked, as I approached him to share the image on my cell phone screen.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “I like trolling Facebook groups, where members post politically incorrect memes.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Why?” The Hebrew Hammer asked, while staring at a screen that said my account was temporarily banned from Facebook, because a contemporary art Crackhead-Jesus-meme, failed to meet community standards.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “To see how long it takes for hardcore snowflakes to melt.” I answered enthusiastically. “It’s amazing. Facebook permits\u00a0terrorist groups to recruit members, promotes racism, violence,\u00a0hate speech and misogyny but if you post an artistic, thought provoking meme with the words ‘Crackhead Jesus is coming’ or, ‘What Would Crackhead Jesus Do?’, your account is suspended immediately and you get thrown in Facebook jail.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Facebook thinks your art is blasphemy.” The Hebrew Hammer noted.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cWhen people accuse me of blasphemy, they’re falsely claiming that I ever stated, that their Savior was, or is, a crackhead.” I explained, before retrieving my cell phone and taking a toke of Mary Jane, while the Hebrew Hammer returned to inspecting my diary of the world on canvas.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Not that there’s anything wrong with being a pot head, crackhead or heroin addict, nowadays, as long as you don’t use the n-word, in this fake politically-correct world.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer interjected. \u201cYou wouldn’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings and be labeled racist or insensitive toward Facebook snowflakes.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n The Hebrew Hammer shook his head, after reading the comments of foul-mouthed born-again hypocrites, living in the hatred of Crackhead Jesus, before carefully setting the android down and hungrily reaching for another work of modern-art-gonzo-journalism to ponder.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Though, I must admit, the names of some of your paintings are offensive.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer noted, as he read the brutally stark titles of my artwork, including ‘Trump Art’, ‘Meinigga’ and ‘Crackheadjesus’, written in black ink, on the back of colorfully painted canvas. \u201cHow do you sell Crackhead Jesus\u00a0and Trump Art to nonbelievers?”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “First, I ask folks who threaten me with, ‘I ought to kick your fucking ass, for saying that about my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ’; \u2018What would Jesus do?'” I confess, before passing the joint back to the Hebrew Hammer with squinted eyes. \u201cThen, the people who claim to love Jesus and live in his Light, that bully me with death threats and say they\u00a0wish I had been aborted, look at me with confusion all over their dumbfounded faces, when I remind them, that Richard Pryor invented crack, in the 80\u2019s, while Duran-Duran, was still hungry, like the wolf.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Cunts!” The Hebrew Hammer shouted. “Long after Jesus Christ was crucified, for their gossip, sins and hypocrisy.” He added, before inhaling God’s herb. “I get it.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Trump art is a hard sell, I know, but I love a challenge and beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” I noted, while receiving the reefer he passed back reflexively, so he could quickly dive back into, the beguiling nature, of my subliminal creations. “I’m working towards pretty and making, informative, happy art but all I get is beautiful chaos and hatred in return.” I stated, woefully while sifting through works of modern-art-gonzo-journalism with a doobie dangling from my lips.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Pious hypocrites casting stones.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer noted, before I passed him the loco weed.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Trust your instinct. Paint what you feel, Kid.” He said, after inhaling. “Don’t let the haters make you despondent. Go ahead, be the maverick artist. Paint what you want.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Resist, persist, insist, enlist.” \u00a0I said, while splashing color on works of art before handing them to the Hebrew Hammer for introspection. ” WWCHJD? What would Crackhead Jesus do?”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “What are you doing?” The Hebrew Hammer shouted, in horror as I began adding a hint of cerulean blue to a painting titled, \u2018Eating A Nothing Burger with Hillary Clinton, At The DNC, During the Long, Hot, Resistance Summer, In America ‘, with a fresh oil stick. “Stop that!”<\/p>\n <\/p>\n “I’m just finishing it up.” I said, without pausing the act of creation. “I’m practicing for my gig tomorrow night, with the All Stars at the MAMM Jam Festival.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “I thought that painting was finished.” The Hebrew Hammer said, in disgust. “Nudnek! It was beautiful. You’ve ruined it!”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “I’m not a speed painter. I’ve got a ninety-minute show to put on, tomorrow.”\u00a0I said, to the Hebrew Hammer, as his face cringed. “My paintings aren\u2019t finished until they are sold; away from my whim and brushstrokes.” I paused, before asking, “If you liked it so much, why didn’t you buy it, before I enhanced it?”<\/p>\n <\/p>\n “You should give it to me, Kid. I have rich friends come over, all the time. They’ll see your artwork, on my walls.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cAnd then what?”<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The Hebrew Hammer sat silent, before I asked,”Do you tell your doctor, to perform free surgery on you, or your lawyer, to do free legal work, for you, so you, can recommend them, to all your cheap, elitist friends?”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “We can barter.” The Hebrew Hammer said, with a smirk\u00a0and raised eyebrow. “As a script doctor, my services ain’t cheap.”<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cYou write for, Kosher Pervert Productions, in the porn industry.\u201d I noted sarcastically.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m trying to go mainstream.\u201d He replied, earnestly.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cWith Crackhead Jesus: The Movie?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI can make it work.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer said, with confidence. \u201cIf you want to trade, for your art.\u201d<\/p>\n “We can do that,” I voiced my agreement, as we both reached in for a firm handshake. “Listen, if you like a painting, buy it but until my art sells, the creations are my kids.” I paused, to\u00a0look him in the eyes and feel his grip in my hand, before adding, “Let my paintings evolve naturally. I’ll raise the art to fruition, don\u2019t you worry.”<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not. So, let’s return to your script.”\u00a0The Hebrew Hammer pivoted back on point, stating pragmatically, as he made notes in red ink on my script, “Alright, let\u2019s see, here, it says that, somewhere in time, Jesus Christ walked the Earth. Around 1 A.D. Jesus Christ hung out with Buddha and Muhammad and Crackhead Jesus hung out with Richard Pryor after the death of Disco\u00a0and the Mayor of Toronto, before crack was whack in Canada.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cIs that true, or did you hear it on CNN?\u201d I asked, as the image of CNN reporter, Charles Jaco, feigning coverage of the 1990 Persian Gulf War, flashed across the purposefully, silent television screen, facing away from the Hebrew Hammer\u2019s line of sight, to be Orthodox, on Sabbath.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a hard sell man, especially in this politically-correct culture we’re living in. Most people won\u2019t understand Crackhead Jesus and the Golden Rule, that\u2019s all I\u2019m telling you.\u201d The Hebrew Hammer noted, while coughing a large, residual-cloud of smoke, into the room, as I showed him another Facebook conversation, about Crackhead Jesus and fake news, influencing pop culture.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Crackhead Jesus and the Golden Rule.” I paused after speaking, to let the words sink into my subconscious, as I watched\u00a0CNN contributor Donna Brazile, peddle colluded fake news coverage, over airwaves.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “I like that.” I said, while tearing strips of toilet paper, as designated Goy,\u00a0in halachic compliance,\u00a0approved by major poskim, for\u00a0the Hebrew Hammer, who was keenly digesting modern-art-gonzo-journalism, for the very first time, in his extraordinary life.<\/p>\n \u201cSo what\u2019s with all the spiders in your Crackhead Jesus script?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s metaphor.\u201d I answered.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cOkay, but the beginning is still too existential. It\u2019s meaningless to a filmmaker. You need action not metaphor.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cYou want more action?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd big tits, somewhere in the story. Look, my point is, you\u2019re limiting your audience. You\u2019re going to lose whoever sticks around after seeing the name Crackhead Jesus and anyone with arachnophobia, that\u2019s for sure.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cJust keep reading.\u201d I said, before exhaling a cloud of rings, into the smelly room, as The Hebrew Hammer shook his head while looking down at my screenplay. \u201cHere, take a hit of this, it\u2019ll help you make sense of the story.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The Hebrew Hammer adjusted the yarmulke, on his balding head, before grabbing the joint, taking a hit and delving back into the legend of Crackhead Jesus, with an open mind, as the sky poured heavy rain, down on The Welcome Inn, long after midnight.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n CHAPTER\u00a0III<\/span><\/p>\n [Judge Donald \u201cThe Duck\u201d Hafele]\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cBeware of the witch, who calls himself a Judge and is nicknamed, Donald \u201cThe Duck\u201d Hafele, at the shady Florida Bar, where Your Honor is regularly pimped out, to the highest bidder, for judicial favors.\u201d The Black Widow spider spoke to me, as I judged her ethics in my mind, while watching her devour another limp suitor.<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cJudge Donald \u201cThe Duck\u201d Hafele speaks one thing but does another.\u201d The Three Muses sang, as the Black Widow spider licked her hairy legs inside my head. \u201cAnd, like Rumpelstilstkin, you can\u2019t say his name out loud, or Crackhead Jesus and his minions, will accuse you of blasphemy, in the court of public opinion.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cYou will meet the specter of G-Rod Miller and he will open your eyes, to a man-made drought of soul currency that threatens to starve billions of souls, when a catastrophic tsunami of spiritual famine is unleashed upon mankind, by lawyers, witches and devils, embedded in shadows of the deep state.\u201d The insatiable Black Widow whispered, as I opened my eyelids, to see a room full of spiders, staring back at me, with over a billion eyes. “The Golden Rule, will cease to exist, on Earth, forever.”<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n I shut my eyelids quickly and in the darkness, saw the face of a bright, young, boy staring back at me, with hope in his eyes and a great white smile, on his big, black face. Like a lunar eclipse of the sun, G-Rod Miller\u2019s ghostly image blacked out the spiders I sensed crawling all around me. \u201cWhat Would Crackhead Jesus Do?\u201d He asked my soul, as I released a primal scream, into the echoes of my mind.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n “Crackhead Jesus will try to convince you that everything is broken beyond repair and to accept the status quo but do not be fooled by his wily deception.” The Black Phantom spoke through a chill that left me shivering. “Witches, disguised as lawyers and judges, will attempt to veer you from your destiny as, The Maverick Artist. They will try to alter your identity in Court, by forcefully changing your\u00a0birth name on record, but fear not what liars call you in corrupt halls of justice, because you are also, the voice of the Lied to Generation and The Three Muses will always be there to protect you. “<\/p>\n