Speak of the Devil…

Well, Wilson, I have an interesting little tidbit to tell you about as a kind of an intermission between the tales I’ve been telling you about my experiences during the early part of 2022 and issues with the government of Israel. This thing happened just last week, right before I started my bike trip. I thought I’d tell you about it because it’s something that requires prayers, and you’re pretty much the only one I can count on to pray for me and for the things going on in my life.

So you know my book, right? It has two villains. The first is the upstanding Christian Harold van Ouwerkerk whose primary crime is basically not talking to me, and not forgiving or helping his enemy. The other villain, though, Chaz Christianson, was the drugh dealer who sold me like a whore, ran off with my car, sold me drugs with which I would blow my mind out, and, most impressively, became a conduit for Satan himself, who as a walking, talking demon in the flesh attempted to dissuade me from my faith in God. So, between the two villains, he would be the worse of them, right, Wilson?

Well, I had lunch with Chaz the conduit of Satan the other day. Specifically on 28 August 2022 at the Thirsty Lion at the Tempe Marketplace shopping center. I was on the bike, so I had a sandwich and some teas. Chaz had a sandwich and a Bloody Mary. Gotta hand it to Chaz for his sense of style. Bloody Mary. That says a lot.

So I’d had a chat open in Facebook Messenger for ages. Maybe years. He wasn’t a Facebook friend of mine, so if I ever closed out the chat, he would be gone for ever. That kind of thing. So I never closed the chat. I’d sent him messages here and there, to which he never, or almost never, answered. I do remember when Vidal the Maestro and I were putting the book together, we did get a response from him, and he provided a tiny bit of non-information to help me remember some details that I was writing about at the time. But in general,Chaz did not respond, and I learned to not send too many messages.

But being back in Scottsdale after the last Mexico trip, and with more Israel stuff going on, I sent Chaz a message about getting together for a drink or something. But this time I basically told him that I was just inviting him out, though I knew he wouldn’t show up because the spirit that owned him wouldn’t let him show up. Basically, I was speaking from the same perspective that I ahve been telling you about with these last posts. That is, if you do not seek God and goodness, spirits of godlessness will basically infest you more and more, until you are basically a sock puppet that they can make do whatever they want. Chaz, according to my experience, certainly had not been terribly concerned with seeking the face of the Almighty or spreading justice throughout the earth.

Chaz’ response was “Reverse psychology works on me. I’ll be there, and I will not flake.” He was true to his word. I was impressed. Very impressed.

Remember, these van Ouwerkerk cats would not talk to me because I had a spat with them in 2019, and in the aftermath I publically stated in my book that they could be better Christians. I’ve never heard anything from them since. Not even to talk about the fact that they are characters in my memoir. I actually sent them some messages on Telegram a month or so ago as I was making a final decision about handing the copyright of my book over to a publisher or keeping it for myself and doing another self-publishing venture. They couldn’t even respond to my message. I could see them frantically trying to figure out how to block me, so I gave them a quick lesson in blocking me, and they complied without a word. Not that blocking me means anything. I have three telephones, Wilson, with one of them being specifically intended for throwaway SIMs to use while traveling. I could simply walk to a convenience store and pay $10 for a temporary SIM and send them more messages or call them if I wanted, but they wanted to make the gesture of blocking me, so I helped them. As it were, I hadn’t tried to communicate with any one of them in years, with the last communcation that I remember being almost two years ago in March of 2021 where I left a public comment on one of their YouTube videos. But those guys are dangerous people, Wilson. Can you imagine what they would do if they were somehow involved in Satan’s plan to use Israeli’s travel authorities against me? I mean, they quite likely are involved, Wilson. Who knows? They won’t tell me.

But with the above said, let’s get back to the drug dealing walking demon. As I said, his appearance impressed me mightily. I mean, you’ve read the book. You know how I characterize the guy. But there he was, in the flesh, chomping on a Reuben and sucking down a Bloody Mary with me right there at the Thirsty Lion. Smiling. Telling me about how things were going for him.

This of course takes a bit of maturity. He would have to understand that I was just writing a book about my experiences during the time that I knew him. He would of course remember I was high on drugs, having a schizzophremic break. So of course my perceptions would have a certain flavor. You’ve read Feath and Loathing in Las Vegas, right, Wilson? Imagine if Hunter S. Thompson’s lawyer got all offended at being characterized as a demon by a guy who was tripping on every drug imaginable with him.

I mean, Chaz had his perspectives on things too. He had a perspective. In fact, he can write a book about his perspective if he wants. And I really couldn’t fault him for basically anything he might say if he did. Because I was having a psychotic break. He could have been saving me from the repressive chains of false religion. He could have been helping me actualize some hidden sexual identity to evolve into a more enlightened person. Who knows what he might say if he wrote a book of his own, Wilson? Nobody. That’s who.

The most impressive thing about the guy, though, was his ability to just accept what happened, and to accept that various people are going to have their perspectives on what happened, and that people are going to see what they see in when they look at his actions or other people’s accounts of his actions. Good or bad, what happened happened, I can describe it however I want, it happened, that’s just the way it is, and that’s no reason to hate anyone. Yes,Wilson, Chaz has a loving man in his heart. A forgiving man. An understanding man.

But you know, Wilson, Chaz taught me something long before. I think I wrote about it in the opening chapters of my book. Chaz told me that desperation makes people do things they wouldn’t otherwise do. And desperation may have been a factor in Chaz having a drink with me.

Let me give you a little rundown about his life since we parted ways at the end of 2019. He continued to run around in hotels for a while until at one point as he was spiralling downward a guy gave him a place to stay and a job digging ditches. Then his girlfriend Becca got out of jail. Yeah, Wilson, the same chick he was talking about whenI met him the first time. The one I mentioned in my book. Becca. So they are back together, and he does manual labor. Now he didn’t tell me so, but I could totally tell by talking to him that he still does some hustling here and there, and is still in the drug life here and there. He mentioned to me that he had a couple of warrants out for him, but for minor things like driving without a license. Basically traffic ticket kind of stuff that turned into warrants because he didn’t pay the ticket. He also mentioned that there were people around who wanted to kill him. “Drug-related stuff” he called it.

In other words, we was better off than when I met him in 2019. At that time, he had no place, his girl was in jail, and he was doing nothing but drug stuff. Now he had a place, his girl, some stability, but otherwise seemed to be pretty close to bottom level. Broke, not many prospects to look forward to, not really out of the drug life. That sort fo thing.

That was the condition he was in when he answered my challenge to meet him for lunch. I definitely think a little desperation could have been involved. Maybe he was looking to sell me some dope? Maybe he was looking to scam me somehow? I don’t doubt that thoughts like this could have crossed his mind at some point, but none of that diminished for me the pure and absolute nobility in his willingness to overlook a lot of the horrible things that had happened between us, and most especially that I had basically characterized him as the archvillain of epic and infernal proportions in my novel.

You know what he said when I brought up my novel to him, Wilson? “I just thoght it was cool that someone would write something about me.” Wilson, I’m on the verge of tearing up just thinking about the guy. He was born a few months before me. Generation X. The year of the rat. The same essence, in a way. And from my memories with him from 2019, the guy is my intellectual equal. If not superior. I mean his life experience didn’t give him the opportunity to learn languages like I have, but he knew everything there was to know about philosophy. This contributed mightily to my view of him in my book as the embodiment of a fallen angel arguing with God about the essential construction of reality.

Yet to him I must have seemed like some sort of titan. Like, I had a monthly wage. I was getting into shape. Riding my bike around Phoenix in 100-degree heat in preparation for this trek I am doing through the Mojave desert right now. Travelling between my parents’ houses in Florida, Arizona, and Mexico.

The contrast actually brings me to tears. Remember, he was a business owner in California doing all kinds of stuff throwing parties for famous people whatnot, went through a horrific divorce, gave in to temptation and fell into the world of drugs. I had a PTSD episode and did drugs a few times and got out of there before being permanently committed to a mental institution. He is still there. Like, two dudes of the same kind, one takes a left turn, the other takes a right turn, and wow what a difference it makes.

This spate of posts I am writing to you, Wilson, they constitute a kind of a sequel. The bookI wrote to the Maestro was basically about how one receives a divine calling. These posts I am writing to you are a description of the bizarre stuff that happens when someone tries to comply with that divine calling. Most of it is horrible, and I have a few more posts to write about the forces of Satan trying to thwart me, and all the woes that entails. But in comparison with this guy, I am king of the world, making my bed daily on a mountain of blessings.

I wanted to help the guy. I still do. I asked him what all he was in to and wanted to do besides digging ditches, slinging dope, and hustling scams. He said he was into drawing. So I offered to pay him for sketches to add to a second edition of my book. Since it’s self-published, I maintain the copyright, and I can do whatever I want with various hardcover and paperback and e-book editions, to include making changes to the cover and adding any illustrations I want. I thought it would just be too freaking cool, Wilson, to have my first novel, the Electrochemical Girl, illustrated by the archvillain that it describes. Chaz concurred that this would in fact be very cool. Like, even if he weren’t in the book, he said, the idea of having one’s memior illustrated by one’s enemy in the memior had a certain style.

So I offered to pay him for drawings. Then he had to go. I paid his bill and passed him a few bucks because I knew he could use it. We chatted for a bit after the meeting on Facebook Messenger. But I haven’t heard from him over the last few days. I wonder if I will.

You know a major theme in these posts to you revolves around seeing the kinds of spirits that affect people, with the term of art featuring at the center being the “Filth Pig Sock Puppet.” This term describes someone whose lack of concentration on God and spirituality has made them vulnerable to being affected by forces that they do not recognize the existence of. The result of this effect is that these people tend to oppose me, a servant of God, in ways which they themselves are not even aware, as they are basically unwitting agents of forces that oppose me and my God. The backdrop for describing this term is primarily my complaints against members of the government of Israel, but I of course had to include the examples of my own mother, who I love like my own soul, and my stepfather, who bought me my first car, who sent me to one of the most expensive and prestigious high schools in the USA, who rode with me through the western US on motorcycles, who took care of me for a year after I got PTSD.

Despite the grotesque name, I am not calling these guys evil, but saying that they are vulnerable to being influenced by it due to their lack of consideration of the realities of God and Satan. So if I can say that these Israeli bureacrats are unwitting servants of evil, and if I can say my dear parents are unwitting servants of evil, what kind of forces do you think are at work in the life of Chaz the drug dealer?

All the demons in the western hemisphere are going to be fully empowered to keep Chaz away from me, Wilson. The likelihood that he and Iwill be able to maintain connection and friendship will be extremely low, unless he becaomes aware of this tendency of the spirits running rampant in his life to separate him from me, the Knight of the Light.

So Wilson, I want to ask you to pray for Chaz. Of all the people I know, Wilson, you are the best at prayer, with your consistency and attention to the matter exceeding everyone else I have run across. If there is anyone I can count on to really give a shit about Chaz, it’s you. So please, keep him in your prayers. His friendship is important to me. He is able to overlook all the bad history. Unlike the van Ouwerkerks. They are rich. He is not. And desperation clears away a lot of bullshit. But on the other hand, the forces of darkness are going to try very hard to keep him, to wear him like a sock and discard him like dirty laundry when he no longer serves their purposes, and most importantly prevent him from having any contact with a dude like me.

Chaz’ friendship is a pearl for me, Wilson. I don’t want to lose him. So yeah, if you could, keep him in your prayers.

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