Vice New York heeft een brief gekregen van God. Hij heet eigenlijk Craig Tanner, en komt uit Washington. We denken dat hij de brief heeft gestuurd om te laten zien hoe slecht drugs voor je zijn en om “De hemel is de beste high” te zeggen. Of zoiets. We kunnen het niet met zekerheid zeggen, want de rivier van Gods bewustzijn is oneindig dieper dan de onze, en zijn spelling is heel wat slechter. Maar wat had je verwacht? Engels is niet zijn eerste taal. Als hij deze brief in het Jiddisch had gestuurd, werd hij waarschijnlijk perfect begrepen. 

I don’t know what heaven is going to be like, but if I have any thing to do with it, its going to be one crafty, wild and fucked up ride. Go from good, home, shit the seat of your pants Vice Magazine honesty to hard core-orthadox fundamentalist judaism then plot the whole thing as an oscilatting energy pattern, differentiate it into a fractal pattern of a clit and hang it on the wall.

And there needs to be lots of weird music. Like Tori Amos. OK, that’s to tame for you guys. Like, The Residents.

No, I won’t do that. I’ll make everything so undenyibly holy and beautiful you’ll sigh an angel. And wonder why you ever concieved of all that fucked up bullshit. The concieve it all over again, just to have something to compare it to, keep you grounded in this faery tale wonderland.

Ok, guys, I owe you all an apology. I shouldn’t have ever opened my penis or my eyes when I came out of the womb. (and I did. Ask my parents. I had my eyes open and was staring down nurses moments from the blood…)

beside the point. and don’t blame me, you all did it to. Unless your penis never developed from a clit. And now we’re all stuck in this wired for pain world and we have to deal with it. Maybe a line of coke helps now and then. Wouldn’t know. Smoked crack once two days in a row and didn’t get high. Maybe that’s because I made the guy drunk my blood first. I guess I shouldn’t have cried my brain on Crystal Blue Glory if I still wanted to get high on $50.

I’m really sorry about the whole thing. Except the sheer fascination of it all. Doesn’t anyone understand, all things are and ever will be. And somewhere it all exists as human conciousness. And the ride down comes first. Then it hits bottom, rebounds back up higher than it started. Of course, that’s calculating that there is a bottom….

(by the way glory is not a drug. Its sheer mental radiation, Hard-core, no-shit-sweetheart-just looked God in the face-gonna burn in eternal flames tomarrow-that point of energy just goes on forever-why am I alone-it should all be very clear-not for the weak minded wavelength.

)

-very seriously to the point that I’m really scared and wish I wasn’t, God

Craig Tanner, Bellingham, WA

I’ve tried sodomy and Christainity a couple of times, but they don’t help. Try doubling or tripling up on the dose of Seroquil they give you when you get out of the mental ward. If you don’t cut your throat a couple of hours into it, the this-ain’t no pansy bad acid trip-fear factor can be very addictive….