#life outside the book of mormon belt
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nerdygaymormon · 1 year ago
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A few excerpts from this essay by Lisa Torcasso Downing:
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Nothing has spurred more spiritual growth in me than developing lasting friendships with LGBTQIA church members. They’ve suffered, they’ve been rejected, they’ve been misunderstood. Some stay in the Church, others leave for their mental health. But their goodness never changes.
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Every day, I think about LDS children who will someday come out after years of experiencing church leaders, church teachers, and family members insist the “gay/trans agenda” is an affront to God’s plan when it is God who planned them. All of my LDS-raised, LGBTQIA friends–every one of them–have suffered severe self-loathing, depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation. 
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I want to reflect the love God feels toward them in their interactions with me. I want them to know I see their immense worth, and that I recognize their orientation and identity as divinely appointed. I want them beside me.
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Have you noticed that Jesus is regularly confronted with the accusation he hangs out with sinners, and yet he never calls anyone a sinner? Those around him do, including his disciples. He didn’t divide us the way we divide ourselves. Some at church insist the world is getting more evil every day, and maybe, in some ways, it is. But the people I see around me–LDS and not–are becoming less racist, less sexist, and less classist.
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The Lord uses “love” as a verb, not as a noun meaning emotion. 
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Love requires certain behaviors of us. This is why Jesus modeled service, inclusion, and open-heartedness. 
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My experience sitting at the feet of my LGBTQIA friends has proven to me that the Church isn’t feeding them like it feeds cishet members. It denies them marriage, both here and hereafter, and other things as well. The covenant path is broken for them, not by them.
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The Jesus I meet in the scriptures actively deconstructed the societal tiers humanity created. He embraced all kinds. He ate with us, spoke with us, loved us, and showed every one of us a higher way to live. 
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tubofskippy · 5 years ago
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Speaking of a Book of Mormon movie, look what I just found in my notes! I only got as far as You and Me (But Mostly Me)... but I could keep going!
These were originally notes for something I was going to storyboard.
BOM THE MOVIE
Open on the actual book. Light shining on it, like a fairy tale. It opens to the nephites scene “I... am Jesus.” It’s paper animation, like how South Park is.
...
“All over the world!” Music... the book closes, and the front cover fades to the same front cover in Price’s hands.
HELLO!
Start with shots of elder price straightening his tie, name tag, running a comb through his hair.
He steps up to the door with the book in his hand. We don’t see his face yet.
Ding dong.
The door opens, and we now see his face for the first time, with a big grin, book in hand.
“Hello. My name is Elder Price.”
Song continues and cuts to different Mormons at different doors. Each doorbell has a different color door, different comedic people answering.
Sometimes there will be split frames.
Doors will be slammed in faces.
One Mormon smiles as he is about to walk up to another door, while another Mormon is being chased into the street by a dog.
Elder Cunningham buzzes a whole apartment complex. The “hello would you like to change religions” is a frame we see of him shouting through a security camera.
“NOO, NO, Elder Cunningham”
Maybe is in Arnold’s conscience? Idk.
...
“So you won’t burn in—“ One
Mormon has made a placement, but he watches angrily through the window as the person throws the book into their fireplace. “HE-HELLLOO”
The book of... MOOOOOOORMOOOON
camera pans from one door to the whole neighborhood. Title sequence. The doorbell in the word Mormon becomes part of a real door, and someone presses it for the final ding dong. The title sequence fades away.
the final HELLOOOOO could be a split frame of them waving? Like how they were on the risers?
TWO BY TWO
Takes place in the missionary training center. Looks sort of like a classroom. Their instructor is on screen, not just a voice. The boys eagerly wait in their desks.
(OR we do a Charlie Brown thing, where the instructor is never fully shown)
We start in the hallway with the 3 boys. “Do you have any idea where they’re sending you elder price?”
After “SOMETHING INCREDIBLEEEE” they run into the classroom and take their seats. They tap their fingers and bounce their legs to the faint snare roll and “tck bum. bum. tck bum. bum.”
It lasts a bit longer than in the soundtrack. Some close ups on Cunningham taking out his gum or something.
“Form a line and wait til your name is called.”
They line up against the back wall.
Once the boys start getting paired up, they dance at the front of the room. “HOO-AH... (jump on desks. Knees are bent. quick jump.) HEY-YAH, (turn away,) SHOO-WAH (turn towards each other, excitedly) ZADAP-WOW!” Unfold legs jump off of desks, go side be side and do the “TWO BY TWO” march.
.....
Kevin is in line towards the window. He stares at a religious painting on the wall.
“Heavenly Father, (then turns his attention out the window, the typical daydreaming face) where will I go on my mission?” In the window’s reflection we see the other boys come into focus and repeat “on my mission...” Kevin wistfully leans against a map on the back wall. “Will it be China or ol’ Mexico on my mission?”
San Fran by the bay... Australia where they say g’day... (he stares at the continents with romanticized wonderment)
...
“To my favorite place....” Zoom in on Price’s face. The background fades to black, spotlight on Price. He is so wishful it hurts. “ORLANDOOOO” zoom out to see his whole outstretched arm. He’s in Orlando now. A background of sea world whirls past him, a dolphin jumps over his head, the background whirls to Disney world. “GOLFIIING” He hits a put put ball towards the camera. The ball is the transition back to the classroom setting.
“ELDER PRICE!”
“YES SIR!”
...
“.....elder Cunningham!”
“THAT’S ME! THAT’S ME!” Arnold pushes desks aside to scramble to the front of the room. The noise is horrific. “hellO!”
“Your mission location will be...”
Zoom in on elder Price again, black background like his fantasy. *crossed fingers, mouthing the words orlandoorlandoorlando
“UGANDA!”
Black background quickly comes back to normal classroom.
Horrible noise. Instead of from instruments skidding, it came from Elder Cunningham pushing another desk.
Their faces are priceless.
“...Oh boy! Like Lion King!"
...
Desk dancing, evolves into marching down the hallway while high-fifing, clapping, and dancing...
“CHRIIIIII-IIIIIIIST! Of Latter Day Saints.“
They’re outside at this point. Song ends abruptly and everything carries on as normal. Price walks to the bus stop, and elder Cunningham rushes to catch up to him.
Of course he annoys Kevin. We get a taste of what this relationship is going to be like. Kevin takes measures as to avoid him on the way home.
Time passes.
YOU AND ME (BUT MOSTLY ME)
This song obviously takes place in the airport. The music starts as they’re standing in line to have their passports stamped.
“You’ve done an awesome job, Kevin!”
The song pauses. Cut to the woman holding up the passport photo to his face, comparing the two. “Kevin...” he sings again. Then speaks: “I’m Kevin Price, I’m nineteen. That’s not the best photo of me, I sneezed and it was like five dollars to get it retaken, so…” The woman stamps it. “Thank you.”
Cut to the airport hallways.
“Now it’s our time to go out—“
Arnold is on one of those moving walkways and slides past Kevin as he sings “MY BEST FRIIIEEND”
Kevin starts jogging to match Arnold’s pace.
“And we can do it together, you and me—“
But it seems like Price thinks of it more as a race. He reaches the end of it just before Arnold does, and stands in front of it, his bag tripping Arnold as he gets off the walkway.
“BUT MOSTLY MEEEEE!”
Kevin happily skips towards a Kiosk. “You and me but mostly me—“ He snatches a newspaper, “...are gonna change the world forever.” He runs towards the wall, where there’s an interactive screen. "Cuz I can do most anything—“ On the screen, there’s a camera projecting whoever stands in front of it, so basically, there’s a big Kevin on the wall. Cunningham enters the frame, farther away from the screen. “And I can stand next to you and watch!” Kevin messes around with filters on the screen, the first one being a hero, and the second one being a captain.
Cut to a restaurant they’re eating at.
“Every dinner needs a side dish—“
The server places a tiny mac n cheese or something Arnold ordered off of the kid’s menu on the table. “On a slightly smaller plate!”
They’re gleefully zig-zagging through the stanchions as they get in line for security. “And now we’re seeing eye to eye! It’s so great we can agree! That heavenly father has chosen you and me— just mostly me…“ At this point Kevin has kicked off his shoes and placed his bag on the conveyer belt, then steps up to the metal detector. “Something incredible…” As he passes through the detector doorframe, reality distorts into a fantasy spotlight again. “I’ll do something incredibleeee! I wanna be the Mormon who changed all of man kind…” Price’s surroundings are black. The only things that remain are the metal detector, and Arnold, who sets the alarm off and is stopped in his tracks by the security guards. “MY BEST FRIEEEEND” Kevin spins around and Arnold and the security are swept off screen. “It's something I’ve foreseen: now that I’m nineteen… I’ll do something INCREDIBLE, that BLOWWS GOD’S FREAKIN MIIIIIIND!”
As he hits these notes, reality fades back in, and he’s standing on the rim of an airport fountain, sticking out above all of the other travelers. The camera swoops to a bird’s eye view of the airport as if Price’s voice sent it launching up there.
Cut to the long set of stairs leading up to the door of the plane. The camera follows both boys as they race up the steps. “And as long as we stick together—“ Cunningham is in front of him, but leans to the side to let Kevin through, “and I stay out of your way-OUT OF MY WAY”
“So quit singing about it and do it, how ready and psyched are we?” They’re on the plane, pushing their way through the isle. They find their seats and settle in. They smush their faces against the tiny window. “Life is about to change for you,” they turn to look at each other, “and life is about to change for me.” Kevin buckles his seat belt, and Arnold struggles with his. “And life is about to change for you and me—“ Kevin buckles it for him. “But me mostly…” And tightens it.
He looks at Arnold compassionately. “And there’s no limit to, what we can do…” He places a hand on his shoulder. “Me and you.” Arnold smiles at him. Kevin turns his gaze. “BUT MOSTLY—“ ALL of the passengers on the plane sigh/moan.
Cut to the outside of the plane, taking off.
“MEEEEEEEEEEE!”
It flies into the distance.
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heartlites · 4 years ago
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so. i havent really written here in a long time, i mostly share my mundane thoughts and daily happenings on my twitter anymore. lately though, i’ve had a lot on my mind in regards to a large number of things, one of which being my relationship with religion and my faith in general. i don’t really think i can talk about it on twitter simply because there is too much for me to say just for a tweet chain, and these feelings are kinda... i don’t know, more intimate? i’m a little more hesitant to share them with a larger audience anyway. 
and so, after many years of not really talking much here at all, i am going to dive into my relationship with religion and i will probably post here every so often about it as i try to connect with a goddess who reached out to me, isis.
i’ve spent my life in the bible belt of the us. i grew up in a very christian environment and i was involved in several different sects of christianity that are all kind of really fucked up. when i was a very young child, my mother and us were apart of a mormon church and though i cannot remember a lot, i do remember how utterly bizarre the “culture” was. even after my mother left the church, people from that mormon church would still come to our house and even followed us to our new address when we moved. it was very surreal. 
my oma is catholic, too, and took me to plenty of services when i was young. i didn’t go a whole lot because i was rather restless as a kid and i could not stand how long their services were. the decorum of the catholic church and the sense of catholic guilt has followed me in life. 
primarily, though, i grew up a baptist, and that is... its own can of worms. it was not a good experience. i have described my relationship with god and christianity in the past to a friend as “god haunts me” and that remains to be true. i feel it most when i see small, old abandoned churches in the countryside. little tiny, one room building. plain white walls with crosses. its not a comforting feeling or sight. it really does feel like being haunted. it make me feel afraid. so much of christianity’s teachings, especially those of the baptist faith, are rooted in the principal of fear. when i think of god and christanity i feel nothing but fear, fear of judgement, and just.. i dont know. theres a lot. 
but at the same time, this is made ever more complex because i truly do feel i had very religious feelings and experiences where it was... it was a deep moment? im not sure how to explain it. it mostly happened during worship through gospel / song when i’d sing and i’d feel so... im not even sure how to describe it. but i could feel goosebumps rise on my skin, i would feel light, like my soul was touched. in rare moments, i did feel “closer to god.” acknowledging those feelings, in my mind, means i would have to acknowledge that god as he is, is real, but if i acknowledge that then that means... there can be no other gods, as christianity teaches. 
some distinct memories i have with my experience in the baptist church i went to as a child is, once, when i was very young, i remember hearing the verse that “for god is a jealous god” in relation to the worship of idols / other gods and why we should not do so and you must worship him and him above all others during one sunday school session. when i was young, that struck me as something so very... off. jealousy is a flaw, as i understood it when i was young, but god is supposed to be perfect, and therefore... if he is jealous, then he cant be perfect. i dont remember all of what was exactly said but i do remember not being satisfied with the answer i was given in sunday school.
the last sunday school i ever attended and what drove me away in the end was when i was a teenager, and the lesson somehow pivoted to how people who worshipped different faiths (i.e. the islamic faith, the jewish, buddhists, etc) were wrong and needed to be shown the right path. that did not sit well with me at all and i vocally argued that. more or less, i spoke of tolerance and acceptance of other religions. this went against a core ideology of the baptist sect of christianity, which is conversion more or less. baptists believe very strongly in preaching the word of god to others, to the point of being intolerant of other religions. the topic of lgbt people came up too and how they were not “right” either but we could/should still tolerate them despite their sins. after that sunday school class, i received a book from the church tilted “god in other religions” and i was so pissed off and offended that i threw it away and never went back. 
and now, here i am, in my mid 20′s, and i am trying to understand and explore my relationship with religion. despite my vague interest in paganism, i haven’t truly really tried to explore it. i was afraid, to be honest. i was afraid of being one of those “sinful” people who ‘worshipped false gods’ or whatever. there was too much drilled into the back of my mind, and i still could not quite shake those feelings i had where i did feel ‘connected’ to god. now though, i am starting to feel, i guess, a stronger pull. 
in about october of last year, 2020, there was a strange little happenstance that occurred with me where, while i was away and caring for my grandpa after his surgery, i had gone into his kitchen on a whim. i was eating something and aimlessly looking out his back window when i looked down and in his sink, there was a bird. a wren, to be specific. it was uninjured and i have no idea how it got there, the door and windows had been closed, but i picked it up in a paper towel and set it outside. later that day, it was gone. 
it was so bizarre that... i felt like it had to be a sign of something, from someone. two of my friends, nat and magda, asked their pendulums each and were able to tell me it was isis who was reaching out to me. since then, that has been in the back of my mind but i have yet to truly act on it. ive been... kind of afraid to, i suppose? i am just unsure. nat said something that profound stuck with me that relationships with gods in paganism was not just blind faith like with christianity, but a relationship where you work with them. that was hard to wrap my head around at the time. like! it makes sense. but my upbringing has made it hard for me to approach. 
i have just been thinking about this more and more lately. i want.. to try, but i dont really know where to begin. do i build a shrine? do i pray? is it too late for me to reach out to her? im not sure. im struggling with taking the first steps and it feels like trying to learn how to walk all over again. i dont have much more to expand on this other than that... i want to try and connect with isis. to really form that relationship, but now i am afraid i have waited too long and she might reject my faith or whatever. i dont know. i feel so alone and like a baby trying to navigate all this. 
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fuckyeahilike · 2 years ago
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Edward goes looking for Bella. He finds out where she is by reading the thoughts of a gang or serial rapists who are about to rape and kill her. He drives at top speed to where they are, steps outside his vehicle and tells Bella to quickly get in. He's tempted to kill them all but a) he doesn't want to disappoint Carlisle who thinks all human life is precious; and b) he thinks it's best for Bella to simply get away from these men ASAP, not to subject her to the sight of him killing her would-be rapists and murderers. So he gets in the car and drives off, instructing her to put her seat belt on.
Tumblr: why is Edward acting like an axe murderer, mommy? I'm scared. Is this what Mormons do? Should I burn Smeyer's books just to be sure she can't traumatize me anymore?...
Edward after acting like a axe murderer: "YoU sHoUlD pUt yOuR sEaT bElT oN"
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nerdofnerds · 4 years ago
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(Middle pic is there primarily as hair reference since it’s absurdly difficult to find pictures of the style I picture him with)
Gay, cis, human, roughly 20. Unknown heritage, but INCREDIBLY white.
Imagine every character in the Book of Mormon, melded into a single boring, milquetoast white boy. Light blond hair, blue eyes, always clean-shaven and well-dressed. He tends to prefer plain, solid color shirts and ties, but can sometimes be seen in a leather jacket or a flannel. Usually has one of those big, intimidating bowie knives holstered on his belt. Tends to have bandages or scratches/bruises visible on his person just by merit of the work he does. Sometimes wears gloves.
Cain is a very serious, straight-laced guy. He refuses to use contractions just on the principle of the thing, and tends to be really, really, really long-winded to make sure his point gets across exactly as he means it. Despite his coldly polite nature and deadpan expressions, he does genuinely care about other people! His boyfriend always comes first, though, so your mileage may vary if you've upset Yew.
He has a warped self-view thanks to his tragic backstory [tm] and tends to see himself as a dog and be seen with a lot of dog imagery. It's not an identity thing on the level of otherkin stuff, and he wouldn't call himself a furry- it's a distinct experience. He's completely fine with it, bewildering anyone who hears his absolutely buckwild take on himself.
(More in depth backstory below- if tumblr would let me insert a line break it’d be here. Warnings for cults and religious abuse.)
He was raised as a member of a cult, born into it specifically to be a member of the mini-militia that kept the group safe. Known as The Hounds or The Dogs, they were treated as subhuman by the other members of the group and seen as expendable. They were also taught to be violent, trained in hand-to-hand combat and various weaponry, and occasionally sent out into the world to enact missions for the cult's leader.
As he entered his teens, he was assigned to be the Guard Dog for the young prophet of the cult, Yew. Yew was around his age, the one person who treated him like a human being, and he was able to be a kid with him for once in his life. He fell deeply in love almost instantly. Eventually, Yew escaped the cult, and Cain was sent to retrieve him. Yew convinced Cain not to return to them, and domesticity reigned!
Once he was outside, he spent a lot of time trying to grasp the intricacies of social interaction outside of the framework he was raised in, and was a mix of curious and afraid of everything that's ever existed. He doesn't like using violence, but usually wound up as a bouncer or guard at some club or another because his drive to protect others is too strong. After awhile, Yew helped him get a job at a library, and he liked that a lot. He and Yew generally stick together, getting a small apartment and learning how to exist together.
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mfaunlv · 4 years ago
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Meet the New Class!
It is our pleasure to introduce you to the 17 writers who will join our UNLV community this coming Fall 2020 semester! Congratulations to everyone, and welcome to UNLV!
PHD/BLACK MOUNTAIN INSTITUTE FELLOWS
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Dorothy Allred Solomon (nonfiction) was born into a polygamous household to the father of forty-eight children and his fourth wife, but married a Vietnam veteran who said, “One wife is more than enough.” She took her bachelor’s degree in literature, theater and communication and her master’s degree in Literature and Creative Writing from the University of Utah. Her writing has received several awards, including the 2004 WILLA, the Utah State Publishing Prize, three first prizes from the Utah Arts Council,  Distinguished Journalism Awards from Sigma Delta Chi and the American Academy of Pediatrics, and a Governor's Media Award for Excellence. Her books include the groundbreaking In My Father’s House (1984, Franklin Watts and 2008, Texas Tech University Press) Predators, Prey and Other Kinfolk: Growing Up in Polygamy, (W.W. Norton, 2003) Daughter of the Saints, (W. W. Norton, 2004) The Sisterhood: Inside the Lives of Mormon Women, (2007, Palgrave Macmillan) and coming in 2020 from Texas Tech University Press, Finding Karen: An Ancestral Mystery.
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Areej Quraishi (fiction) was born in Dubai, UAE. Her fiction explores familial relationships, cultural identity, memory, and their effects on the psyche. She holds an MFA from the University of Washington-Seattle and an MA and BA in English from Rutgers University. Outside of writing, she enjoys food, trying out new recipes, teaching, graphic design, language, and dabbles in drawing and singing. Her stories appear or have been awarded Finalist spots in Entropy, Glimmer Train Press, and New Millennium Writings. She's super excited to attend UNLV and hopes that being raised in a desert has prepared her for the heat.
MFA Fiction
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Mark Ranchez discovered the power of stories and storytelling at an early age. Moved from the Philippines to Hawaii in 2013, he finds himself in a constant journey into the unexpected and unknown, from which many of his stories he’s excited to write about were gleaned. By furthering his education and expertise of the craft, he aspires to someday bring these stories into life. His main writing interests involve the Filipinx experience both in the US and the Philippines. Currently he writes for The Hawaii Filipino Chronicle, an ethnic news publication based on Oahu. Hawaii.
 Shani Boianjiu (not pictured)
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Marlan K. Smith joins the MFA program as a fiction writer after completing his MA in English at the University of Idaho. A veteran of the video game industry, his academic interests include contemporary and Victorian literature, speculative fiction, and horror. His short stories (written pseudonymously) have appeared in Dark Moon Harvest magazine as well as Space and Time Magazine. As someone moving to Las Vegas during a global pandemic, he accepts that he has basically become a character in a Stephen King novel.
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Alycia Calvert was born in Palo Alto California, and has been trying be be close to the ocean ever since. She graduated from UNLV in 2016 with a degree in English, with an emphasis in Creative Writing. Alycia mostly writes flash fiction and is interested in the processes of mothering and childhood in memory. She is the wife to one wildlife biologist, and mother to four curious children. In her “spare time” she can be found running, biking, kayaking, nursing a forest of house plants, tearing through audio books, and half-finishing house projects. She loves learning, and is thrilled to begin her MFA at UNLV.  
MFA Poetry
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Ben Socolofsky is a poet currently celebrating the mundane in Las Vegas, Nevada. He received a bachelor’s degree from Hampshire College, where he became a founding member of the Departure Collective, which organizes readings and produces chapbooks. His work has appeared in The Hampshire College Reader, WORKSHOP and Departure Anthology.
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Sara Brown grew up in rural, middle-of-nowhere South Jersey on her grandparents’ two farms and on the coast. She started working at age 9 on her grandparents’ blueberry farm and then at a flower nursery while completing her Bachelors in Literature. Due to a very bad/good habit of being interested in everything, she enjoys reading and writing poetry and creative nonfiction, painting, growing plants, experimenting with film and digital photography, running and biking, and making music. She also has a chocolate problem and will ugly-cry when she has to leave her dog in NJ. Sara has spent many hours exploring the Mojave Desert while staying with her family and friends in Las Vegas and is beyond thrilled to start the MFA program at UNLV.
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Benjamin Stallings is an American poet and musician who grew up in Beijing, China. He moved to America to attend Lee University in Cleveland, Tennessee, where he graduated with a B.A. in Literature and a B.A. in Writing. He performs as Dagger, playing guitar and writing songs in El Bandito Forever.
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John Blake Oldenborg recently graduated from Florida State University with an M.A. in English Literature, Media, and Culture. His favorite pizza toppings are pepperoni and black olives. In his spare time, John enjoys visiting art museums and playing rogue-likes. He is scared of the screaming guy from the band Death Grips
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Alice Letowt is convincing her endocrine system to behave. She is interested in light, spent two seasons working on a farm, and hopes to continue farming in the future. While practicing social distancing, she is discovering a fondness for azalea bushes. She can’t wait to stop in Kansas on her drive from Virginia to Nevada.
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Harrison Bernard Nuzzo
“i stand outside me and watch myself"
- d.a. levy
 MFA Nonfiction
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Michael Hanson, a Minnesota native, has chased warm weather in Hawaii, California, Hong Kong, Australia, and now Las Vegas. When he isn’t winning sailboat races, he can be found camping, reading, or carousing with the local riff-raff.
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Emma Hardy is from Melbourne, Australia. Her nonfiction has been published in Voiceworks, The Lifted Brow, the Monthly and Dumbofeather. She's interested in animals, the environment and nonfiction that lends itself towards the speculative and fabulative. She's also obsessed with comedy, and performs improv, clown, sketch and occasionally stand-up.
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Journalist Travis Dunn was born in New York City and grew up in New Jersey and rural Pennsylvania. He holds a B.A. from St. John’s College in Annapolis, Md. His reporting has been published by the Center for Public Integrity, WhoWhoWhy, Alternet, Belt Magazine, and the now-defunct Baltimore City Paper.
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Claire Mullen is a freelance writer, critic, audio producer, and translator based in Mexico City. Her work has appeared in outlets such as The Nation, Lithub, The Believer, and Ploughshares, and she is currently a National Book Critics Circle fellow.
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Patricia Heisser Ph. D is a clinical Psychologist who is also an activist and writer. She has been a play producer one of her plays “The Wedding Band”, received the Los Angeles Drama Critics Award. She consulted on casting for movies, such as "The Color Purple", "Lethal Weapon" and "Planet of the Apes" and had a television talk show on CBS," L.A. Kids" which was featured in TV Guide's' Year of the Child.  Patricia was also selected as a MS. Magazine Feminist Scholar focusing on international trafficking has testified for the United Nations on the Status of Women and Violence. She also was awarded the American Psychological Association accredited Clinical Psychology Fellowship at UCLA Neuropsychiatric Institute.
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ghozt1ng-blog · 7 years ago
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Chapter Nine - Breath of the Insane
Naomi and Brandon ran down a pathway, the later gasping for air. He was once again weaponless, after throwing his rock at crawling pile of bones. The stone had been incredible, though. It grew to the size of a boulder in midair and then crushed the bones to dust. But because the crawling bones were so dang slow, it was a waste of a good weapon. Naomi still had Excalibur, but she was concentrating more on running than fighting. The beasts in Breath of the Wild were larger and harder to kill than in the last Zelda game.
    Another problem was that these monsters coming from all sides were definitely not just from this game, but from others as well. She was pretty certain that some even came from books. Weren’t those Cauldron Born coming in from the south? Those kind of undead never stayed dead when you cut them down. There were also two large statues that reminded her of Anubis warriors. Yup, she felt screwed. All they needed now was a sentinel to come running into the mix...  
    Suddenly, a green World of Warcraft orc and a moblin charged at her and Brandon from rise to their right. Brandon just collapsed in the road and begged for it all to end. Naomi snarled and tried to assume a good stance for fighting these monsters. She was not really used to fencing or anything like that. She was at a real disadvantage. The orc reached her first, with the moblin stopping to consider Brandon.
    The orc swung a large battle axe and nearly took off Naomi’s head. She was lucky and managed to dodge it and Excalibur went into the orc’s gut easily. The brute howled and drew back, clutching its stomach. A health bar appeared over its head, and Naomi could see that he had two thirds of his HP still. Grimacing, she went on the offensive, swinging wildly. She managed to score a good number of hits on the orc, who blocked with its axe, but still took damage. Excalibur quickly reduced the enemy to a bloody mess. She turned and saw Brandon in the clutches of the moblin, squealing for help.
    Naomi had half a mind to leave him, but she knew the agents wouldn’t condone her actions. She knew Trick would understand, but his word wouldn’t sway the adults. She heaved a sigh, feeling sore from the exertion and charged the moblin. It pricked Brandon hard, and three hearts popped into being over his head. He was already down half a heart. The moblin grunted with excitement, which turned into a gurgle as Excalibur went through its chest. It let go of Brandon and rounded on Naomi.
The movement wrenched the sword from her hands and she threw herself out of the way to avoid a spear taking her in the throat. She rolled as she landed, and with the adrenaline pumping, she sprinted around the monster. The moblin nearly skewered her again, but managed to get behind him and pull the sword free. She then hacked frantically at the moblin, bringing him down like a sapling.
Brandon gaped at her and then sputtered, “You save my life! I am in your debt! Please, lend me the sword and I’ll repay you!”
“Not on your life,” Naomi spat angrily. “We need to get going. I saw enemies coming after us from all sides earlier. You need a weapon that you can use. Unfortunately, you are not strong enough for that orc’s ax, so take the spear.”
She didn’t bother to check if Brandon was following her instructions or not. She raided the orc’s body of a nice side pouch, that had some medicine and food in it. Even a small, rock grenade. There was a knife too, with a nice belt. Naomi quickly outfitted herself and even took the bloody jerkin. It might help cover at least something. Brandon trotted up beside her with the spear and a rupee in his hand.
“I wonder if I can take this back with me?”
“That’s what you’re thinking about right now,” Naomi shouted. “I can’t believe you!”
“Well, I need a good stone for when I propose to you. Naomi, you are incredible,” Brandon said breathlessly.
Naomi responded with a swift kick to the gonads. As Brandon rolled on the ground in agony, she simply said, “Consider that my rejection.”
“Ooooh! She really got him good!”
Agent Miles gave Agent Brown a big smile before seeing the stern look on the other woman’s face. She then adopted a more subdued look, but with a slight smile. Everyone was watching what was happening on the big screen as Brandon and Naomi interacted. What they were saying was displayed on the screen as in-game text. Kyle was quickly working to get the Nintendo Switch operational in order to help them through the game. Meanwhile, Mr. Jackson was comforting his wife.
“It’s okay, dear. See? Brandon is being protected. Soon Kyle will be able to guide him like he did last time.”
“But she kicked him in the balls! What if he never has children,” his wife wailed.
Mr. Jackson looked as though he personally believed his son deserved the treatment but instead said, “I think we just need to concentrate on getting him back to us.”
Agent Brown regretted that her son was not there to see all of this. She knew Trick would have loved to see Naomi kick the winning field goal into Brandon’s nether regions. She had to bite back the smile that threatened to sweep across her face. This whole situation was terrifying, but it was oddly comical. She wondered what her son and Conturbatio were getting up to with the mailbox when suddenly two college students let themselves into the living room.
“Well hello there! We heard the Legend of Zelda music and thought we’d come and see what is going on. We’re really big fans!”
The speaker was a guy with a short beard on his face with baseball cap depicting a tiger. He looked to be dressed in pajama pants. The other guy was tall and lean with smart glasses on his face, and shirt with Cthulhu on it. Agent Brown rested a hand on her gun, while positioning herself against the two intruders.
“Who are you,” she asked sternly.
The bearded one waved and said, “Oh, I’m Nate, and this is Vince. Sorry for barging in, but Zelda always gets us excited.”
“Dang excite,” Vince added.
“Woah, this doesn’t look like the game I remember,” Nate said with astonishment.
“Well, it is different,” Kyle said hesitantly.
“What kind of glitches or codes did you work into this,” Vince asked with awe, getting close to the screen.
“Er… That’s hard to explain,” Kyle muttered under his breath.
“My brother and the girl he likes are stuck in the video game,” Tiffany said loudly.
“Well that would explain the absence of Link,” Nate said with wonder.
Once Kyle got the Switch up and running, he could again control Brandon, and just in time, too. He was nearly gored by a giant boat that had suddenly ridden through. The large Anubis statues also lumbered into view.
“Kyle, don’t let them touch your brother,” Mrs. Jackson shouted.
“I’m trying,” he shot back angrily.
Nate and Vince shared a confused look and then Nate said, “I am actually a really great player at this game myself. If the other character is there to support me, I think I can get this Brandon- Brandon, right? Yeah him, I can get him out of danger.”
Kyle looked relieved and thrust the controllers into Nate’s hands. The college student sat down with a loud fart and started playing. Sure enough, he got Brandon somersaulting out of the way and taking good jabs at the Boar, while Naomi finished it off.
“Sorry, I toot a lot. Better out than in, though, right? Hm, we need to get this character some better weapons. Oh look! There’s an ax back there!”
As Nate moved the grumbling Brandon (“Who’s controlling me? Get them to stop!”), Vince sat himself down and pulled out a laptop. He asked for internet access and quickly got it going.
“Since this is  heavily modified version of the game, Nate, I’m gonna try talking you through some things.”
“Thanks a lot buddy!”
Agent Brown came up, shaking her head. “What are you two doing? Why?”
“We just really like games and we like challenges,” Vince answered. “It also looks important to you, and so we are going to help, even if we don’t normally intrude like this.”
“It’s a blessing,” someone called from the outside.
Mr. Jackson grumbled, “Damn Mormons….”
Vince then produced an energy drink and said, “Nate, here! Energy and sustenance!”
“Thanks pal! Hey kid, can you open this for me?”
Kyle opened the can as someone else shouted through the window, “Jack Mormons! Have you no shame!”
“Why don’t you take your self righteousness and stuff it up your butt? Maybe it’ll finally put you on the straight and narrow,” Vince shouted back. Nate just let loose a loud burp and fart.
Agent Brown now understood why both Agents Miller and Sanchez had emphatically said that they would never move to Utah.
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growlegalweed-blog · 6 years ago
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Legal Weed Resources
Check out... http://legalweed.gq/420/one-of-my-many-pen-experiences-gone-wrong/
One of my many pen experiences... gone wrong
So picture this… couple of teens, chilling in the car of a community pool parking lot on a relatively chilly December night. 4 goons… myself, a Mexican, and 2 other dumb white kids.
I had a little dab rig and pen experience under my belt so I thought, “what the fuck could go wrong.”
It went wrong, very fast.
We all took a couple tips from the pen and decided to get out of the car and hang out at the playground near the pool… mistake number one… none of us were dressed right for this occasion.
Once the oils hit me I felt like I was in a whole new dimension. Granted I had been on a 2 week break looking to get a nice tolerance back, however this night was nothing I could have expected. I sat next to the Mexican on a cold park bench, shivering together knowing damn well we were both too cold and fucked up too drive.
After a while we got back into the car to warm up and think of ideas because truth be told, this neighborhood was know for cops. So we did the only logical thing and called so friends to just drive us around for a little bit until we were sober enough.
What none of us expected was how angry our two friends would get. One was a Mormon, but he was no stranger to getting high, and a pasty white middle eastern girl.
They were angry as hell but it doesn’t stop there.
The girl had a boyfriend that we were all friends with, and he was interested in getting a rip or two off the pen. So we drove a few neighborhoods down and this is where things got worse. The Mormon driver was being an asshole a driving recklessly braking to screeching halts and speeding up like a madman with 4 high children in the back.
This didn’t bode well for one of the boys next to me (we can call him Harold for reference).
Pleading almost like his life depended on it, Harold told the driver to slow down because he was going to get car sick. The driver didn’t listen but it didn’t matter, we were pretty much at the destination.
The Mormon and girl get out to greet the boyfriend. While this is going on, the boy next to me (Terence for reference) said not a word, except for the word “shit” after what was about to ensue.
Without warning and just managing to get the door open, Terrence spewed… a lot… firehouse sub, onions and all… on Harold’s shorts… while the Mexican and I just looked at each other and just put our heads down knowing this night was a cluster fuck.
Climbing up front I handed the Mexican a few napkins from the glove compartment to try and sop up the vomit on the suede seats. The Mormon and girl came back thinking Terrence made it outside… but boy were they mad when they realized it was on the seat.
Fuming, the Mormon drove Terrence home and took us back to the car for the girl to drive me and the Mexican back to my place. While the Mormon took Harold back to his house.
We planned to meet up in a church parking lot only about half a mile from my neighborhood to wait for the Mormon to get the girl and we could drive home.
So we sat and waited, and waited… until finally our hearts all dropped when we saw the blue and red lights pull up
Whenever cops pull up I get instantly paranoid every if they don’t even talk to me… this time in particular I didn’t even seem to mind. I just handed him my ID and muttered quite loudly “man this is some fuck shit.”
The Mexican didn’t have a license so he had to go around into the trunk and get his school idea, which might have saved us in the long run. The cop didn’t even check for registration or anything, just asked what the fuck was up. After that we ditched the church and went straight my house to get everything all situated.
This is how you cap a night of bullshit off… as we’re pulling up I notice from the backseat of my car that my mom is walking the neighborhood, probably coming home from some book club meeting.
I thought well this is it, this is how I get busted… sheer coincidence.
What really happened we we all got out of my car and just explained to her I didn’t feel like driving (clearly and obviously not the case) but whether it was because she just didn’t want to deal with it or really believed me, I will never know. I went inside with my Mexican hombre, reflected on the night by watching Emmet Otter’s Jug-band Christmas while pounding down some chili lime Pringle’s.
Thoughts on this night?
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spiritinabody · 7 years ago
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August 22nd, 2017
Holy cow. I feel like today was one of the longest days of my life -- in a totally magnificent way. I woke up at 6am after being up until 2am after the Green Day concert (which was kick ass). After showering and getting the rest of my stuff together, mom took me to the airport. I actually got her to just drop me off -- I was already nervous enough about my backpack/sleeping bag combo being too big to fit on the plane. I gave her a hug and dragged that bag as well as my carry-on ALLLLLL the way to the end to check it with United Airlines. The bag size was fine so I fretted for nothing. As i was over an hour early, I found my terminal and continued reading my book “This Blessed Earth” while doing some stretches.
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I got up to get some Starbucks but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth the $4+ so I got some pretzel snacks instead since I didn’t know when I would have time to actually eat. Once I got back, we started boarding. They were “testing” a new way of boarding, which I never thought about -- boarding the people in the back of the plane first. What a novel thought, huh? The plane ride was fine, although I felt like I had less space than usual. The guy next to me was probably early 50s and not very friendly. Not unfriendly, just not approachable. I read a lot of my book and napped a few times. My arm fell asleep. Once we landed in Denver, I had about 45 minutes before boarding. I spent that time looking for a map of Colorado, should I actually end up hiking an extended period -- only to only be able to find a map of just Denver. Better than nothing. Then I walked my way to the very end again to board for St. George. 
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It was a small plane. Another, possibly older, no less unfriendly guy to sit next to. Not only that, but the lady behind me was your typical “bitching about not being able to use an expired coupon” type. Complaining because the seat belt was backwards? But still usable and perfectly fine. Then there was a delay because of other flights so she complained as if that would help. I took deep meditative breaths. That flight was fine as well -- finished a lot of my book! We got off the terminal about 1:45pm. It is the tiniest little airport I’ve ever seen. Literally. I think they only do one flight at a time. After everyone on the tiny flight had disappeared, I called one of the two cab numbers located outside and was originally quoted about $230, which was higher than I had calculated at home. The guy who came to get me was very nice, probably mid 50s, but his boss had told him $275 which I didn’t really have a choice but to accept. But luckily the cost of living here is really cheap -- realistically cheaper than Ohio. 
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We drove through some pretty cool places in both Utah & Arizona and I took a ton of pictures. He was a great tour guide, so to speak. We saw multiple “Indian” reservations, the city that Mormons basically own?? How their houses are half constructed because if they’re not finished they don’t have to pay taxes... Saw a few in Kanab later in the day. They wear black dresses like the Amish. We talked about child marriage and domestic violence. He does taxi service for their domestic violence shelter. He dropped me off at 355 S. Main St., Kanab, UT where I found my Airbnb host Billy! Its a room in his quiet quaint house. Sitting in it now. I then unpacked and went for a walk around town. Found the vegetarian and vegan store and bought some stuff for breakfast. Then found the laundromat and a few other small stores. Explored the trails and mountains at the end of town. I was speechless. Kanab is beautiful and rich in culture and a pleasure to feel. I felt whole.
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- Kelsey
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benchgenderstudies · 8 years ago
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The Prophet from Shady Places
by Michael Bench
//A prose written to Cops and the Public by a Gender Anthropologist and Cannabis Pundit.  When certain bad guys behind badge get all wound up, cray- cray and need that time out.. something for them to de-escalate on//
--------------------------------------------------------- 
Ask a prophet from shady places about the world
they'll tell you the perils of thieving 
before the nonthief’s mind blooms a reason of positive reward.
*
I got a problem with cops to take up with other cops.
Its not NWA lyrics
Cops B is not Cops A. A does not equal B.
Cops B are down south: TX,CO,AZ,UT
Cops B been helping themselves to Quasimormon runaways
They on the roadside trying not to get raped the first time,
not get married a second time before their 15th birthday
These southern quasimormons have loyalty feuds under the bright bright sun
 *
It's really bright and sunny in those states
its so sunny and bright that if the god of jesus couldn't see
girls being raped while in bondage unprotected TIS OF THEE
That he'd not be perfect even for a son of a bitch.
*
There's low hanging fruit here, Cops.
Looky map wise like the pains of Samweis,
Worried Frodo is looking for a crib and not a ring.
To a middle east and middle south confederate region
Bible belts and bible whistles
and bible thumpers who've written every word in it
Jesus doesn't speak to them for they'd molest him too
Make him say silly things unbelievable if he has any room in his mouth
to get a word out. To sound in message like he used to.
 *
Two hostile regions getting lots of sun and no service.
There's two imaginative sources of prophets
yammering  about a visions of dehydration
no wonder you felt like it was the end of the world
Some more water, drown your spinning mind
Get some more water , lose the divinity.
 *
All these bad visions a collected page vice robbing a girl of her decency
A bunch of males each region trafficking girls, like they're the only humans in it.
To each other, to someone else. Elders of the quasimormon portapotty, compound size;
Suffer the gluttony, pride and lust so openly
No version of an assembly of Jesus's words even edited would protect them
*
The cops in texas and arizona , and utah, and perhaps other states..
They turn these girls back to the cult.
Some they turn around themselves first .
There is no religious fence against protecting the children
If in the name or mild margindoodle of Jesus ink selfie
associated to any religion, protect the children.
 *
Neither cops  of these states, sheriffs, parish leaders
nor anyone else in eased vision seems to be practicing that angle of the faith
The direct angle. Most so certain well lit angle
That if this universe had any association  
of a very creation story spun by the jews and christians..
A very hot hand would reach down from the sky  from the hot sun
pinning this world flat on a the rack of justice
And strip the identity of this mormon or lesser mans face right off their skull
Along with associated pains long past due.
*
*Ashen piles.have you sympathy for them, Cop A?Cob B?
Dirt among the white race is being ignored by white cops.
Some bad news that can be made good.
I personally would like each of these
gated community rapist mormons branded with a Swastika
to assure their head is in the game.
2 ft x 2ft, on their back. Every "elder". taking wives instead of meeting wives.
*
Protect and Serve doesn't necessarily sound like protect the children.
Its like Ragu, its in there. and if I were to believe a
father , son and holy spook have a place in the clouds,
that still isn't the commandments of Jesus that said
'love those as I loved you" and " protect the children , you stupid mothfekkers".
In fact.. Jesus has a much better record teaching humanity than the sky god managed,
 *
If all that literary fraud were set aside,
I'd rather quote myself " protect the children, stupid mothfekkers",( to the cult)
address it to the states of the south where the bible belt is allegedly tightest.
And the deep south Middle east where religion ,child abuse, teen rape is a traffic pattern
Its really bright out in the sun. Don't discount,
An overheated brain is a damaged brain.. leaving the more animalian more leash ..
to make a stupid man sound worse and then spermaspaz  a bundle of kids
with pregnancies he can't raise on the alotments of hours per day.
 *
Not even in the risen Jesus's own jewy backyard does he save the youth.
but its really bright outside and should a god hear all these people's worship
not doing a thing to protect his children.Often its in his name
 *
So if two or three people are gathered in his name
is he god taking part in the gang rape of the kids too?
Cop Group A , there's a racial thing going on about drugs,
If you check the records, these hurt and traumatized girls
white girls, get on the drugs and strip afterwards. If they escape
Traumatized and wanting freedom in their own terms
 *
Cop Group A , getting heavy on the politician's non relatives
Your supervisor is too much a bitch to have your back,
it’s a new job task environment
When the governors son gets caught banging a 16 year old
A Cop supervisor needs insulation
when musts of prosecution
prosecute ranks of the city council families.
Keep it in the paper, See who you are, whitey.
Its not tidy. among your own extremists,
in the south, in the bright bright sun
they do such tormenting deeds of power over their young girls
its like they think they were the god..
or what they'd do from the power of the throne either way.
 *
So how many wives does the god of jesus have?
Abraham, Adam .. At most two.
These antisocial desert creatures are holed up in their own lies
Nurturing the children is no verb of mormons; the hardliners are labeled.
made to fear the apocalyptic outside world.
It’s a blaspheme to expect the apocalypse, did you know this?
Doubting Thomas is a taken gig. Observe the creation and be thankful. Nothing else.
When the end is called for , the doubted faith is admitted, when worshippers want more.
Even the type of more that calls to protect the children from mormon cult rapists.
 The book of Jesus; new testament doesn't cover the polygamists.
Unlimited wives is not the spectre of  rightful unlimited hardship
Protecting and being friendly to the little children isn't going on.
Members trying to escape a faith, a marketing failure
The likes of Warren Jeffs due a lesson he won't forget.
Since they don't follow Jesus's word before..
they must follow him in no uncertain terms later
Up the cross three days , Crucifixion can skate the 8th amendment
for this one certain cause.
 *
Quasi mormons and the remainder of the child rape cults
by Jesus's name must learn to follow.
Normally the Romans just leave the body up on the post.
Traditional values also must win out for displaying faith.
The gluttony for sex by herding , not pickup lines or practiced suave
a lazy old man not earning his dick parking.
Lower than the van drivers Putting effort into a convincing abduction lure.
The quasimormon reads his reasoning from a book. 
 *
The religious heatstroke garble is too popular.
A heatstroke a lonely man shares to his friends, to a crowd
For an excuse to feel important again.
He wandered town to town
Named himself a prophet when the last place booted his ass.
From the desert , needing water , he says he had a vision
So his last occupation of ____crime whatever___
doesn't have to get much inquiry.
 *
Everybody loves a hermit.. even the liars that are robbers.
Until the shroud comes off, Touring the neighborhoods
giving the leaders and townsfolk unease
Too tired to rebel and too annoyed to be a cog.
Too fearful to be a disobediant child of men
His god wouldn't protect from the
ill leadership of other men
hoarding a good life for themselves
Without faith at all.
 *
Without faith , Only social morality One group of cops
will take down the allies of child trafficking cults
Theres only two groups.
The majority and the minority.
If the minority is the responsible party to
bust the quasimormon compounds;
I hope its not because the majority are too dick humbled by
their own parking in the prostitutes of the process less visible.
 *
The children can't be blamed when staking them into the ground like outdoor dogs
Expect "god made the grass green and the ground brown" will last 18 years for appeal?,
It Will not last; So not to expect grounds for beating.
 *
Beatings, rapes, throat slashing, molesting and armed guards
Cemeteries have better public relations.
But the living dead walk anyway, birthed into fear for living away from the cult
Translated: parents who train their children to live in their basement.
The secular world doesn't see how obvious a zombie
conversion from human quasimormon polygamy has attempted.
 Mind that Weed produced a better man than mormons did
Mind that Cannabis users are calling on cops right now ,
to pick up the attention toward family values.
A better society than jesus would herd.
A better tangible benefit than praying.
And a more successful relationship with truth than the American Government relating to the risks of tobacco, grounds of foreign war, and monogamy modeled by exemptions with power. There are no forecasts remaining for the will of the individual is the specific determination if human kind puts the next generation before its own libido.
Its about what the book says a religion is, not a man's translation
there's a lot more translation than praying going on
As if anyone worthy to hear a plea of their parish exists
or  responsible enough to prevent its own worshippers from hurting each other.
 *
A god so lazy he won't even say
" listen shit for brains, if you allow the elders to impregnate-rape your 10yr  daughter in the name of jesus, she's not going to be a willing christian. Her body and mind is not ready for a nurturing task"
I says”
Where's the work schedule, god? 
You've been absent and fired a long time ago.
Now it’s a deed of enslavement to the White Race officially.”
I didn't make it up. Its been going on.. now admit
Freedom of religion is not freedom to rewrite a religion..
Lets get that solid.
 #It_Takes_An_AmericanStoner_To_Set_A_Nation_Aright
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