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Rez Ipso Loquitor



As the four work-hardened farm hands led John to the steel grating to which he was about to be shackled his eyes settled on the cauldron steaming atop a roaring fire. He could hear the water bouncing around just out of view below the lip.

“Have you anything to say?” Asked the village regent.

“Yes, don’t do this, I have done no wrong; committed no crime but citizenship.”

“Of course you haven’t. If a sacrifice is not innocent then it is an insult. Guilty blood carries no weight”

The men forced John down onto the grate and held each limb immobile until it could be fastened in its turn.

“But we punish the shedding of innocent blood”, John still riveted on the boiling pot.

“You know that god Ertaz demands it.” Came the regent’s strained-patience reply, “It is better to be spotted with the blood of one man than bathed in the blood of thousands. You must see the truth of this.”

A small child came forward from the crowd and began laying strips of thin linen over the total of John’s inert body.

“Ertaz is a myth. No one believes he exists. He is a fable… a fiction”, the flames slid lovingly around the blackened sides of the cauldron. John watched the fire dance in the regent’s calm blue eyes.

“May he not exist in spite of our doubt? Are you so mighty that your denial can kill a god? Do you believe that we are? No, you must die because he might live”

“But father please… I love you”

“And I you John. It is time.”

One of the farmers placed a pole the circular lock at the cauldron’s lip and levered the boiling water down onto John’s smooth skin; thus postponing the apocalypse for another year.


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But would I be a good Messiah with my low self-esteem? / If I don't believe in myself would that be blasphemy? - The Bloodhound Gang Hell Yeah


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