Slim-fisted book out from Broken River Books and my first impression of Troy James Weaver.
More important than historic text, than god-numbers falling through the tree of life and into your soul, more important than a thousand tales of the coming/uncoming/recoming Christ is the moment when you touch the penis of Gatekeeper and hot cum flows like tongues of flame. This is religion. This is rebirth. No morals, no do’s and don’t’s, no redemption, no salvation. Direct gnosis of the mystery of life, cooling on your hand. And the immediate sacrilege: wiping the seed on the burned and stained carpet (Onan shouting in the face of the gods as he wastes his magic on the dust).
And we must come to terms with this: you are given a gift of the spirit only to be used by those who have been pretending all of these years to be the angels’ fiery Santa Baptist. The only holy act is immobility and silence. Let them use your corpse to prove their points. You are free.