Kisscafe

Have you ever come across two articles in the newspaper printed side-by-side and thought the headline from the first was connected to the picture from the second? My eyes drift left to right and sometimes I don’t realize I’m on to a whole new story. I read the headline: “Man Dies In Tragic Accident.” And look over to see a picture of a man and his kids running through a field of geese. What the fuck? What happened? How did geese accidentally kill that guy? A goose accident? I’ve only ever seen two goose accidents. One was Fabio’s face and the other was in Top Gun. I’m always on the lookout for another goose accident.

By the way, as I was writing that joke I wanted to make sure it was actually a goose that hit Fabio in the face, so, I went to google.ca and typed in FABIO GOOSE. The first article that came up – listen to how they worded this headline. “Fabio Hit A Goose With His Nose On A Rollercoaster.”

That makes it sound like Fabio decided to seek out and headbutt a goose. That’s not what happened. For the record, he was strapped into a rollercoaster and a goose came flying by – then Fabio used his hypnotic attraction to lure the goose right into his - face for fun - because roller-coasters bore Fabio. It wasn’t his nose that killed the goose – it was his supernatural hypno-sex powers. And you know I’m telling the truth – because when you look at a picture of Fabio you’re drawn in so close to it you start making out with it. And that’s exactly what happened to the goose. It’s Fabio. Not even geese can resist him.

(more)

I was on the bus and I overheard two girls talking to each other and one of them said something that made my imagination go crazy - and I hope to god I run into her again so I can thank her for the good times she gave my imagination with her statement. She said to her friend: “My ex boyfriend is a douche of epic proportions.”

A douche of epic proportions?

So, he’s a one hundred foot tall redneck who stumbles through the city drunk of his ass, kicking cars down the street and puking in people’s pools? That’s a douche of epic proportions. Or maybe your ex was Adolf Hitler. What he did was epic – and he’s most certainly a douche. Or maybe your break up with your ex boyfriend was epic, and involved a volcano, some wizards and a prophesy. You know what, lady? Get the fuck away from me. I don’t feel like dealing with a legendary ex boyfriend who’s coming back from the dead to destroy us both. I could probably take a regular asshole in a fight but I’ve got no chance against an epic douche.

(more)

A recent study shows that SLEEP EATING exists. A disorder where the person gets up in the middle of the night, grabs something to eat and goes back to bed without remembering that they ate anything at all.

It was so refreshing for me to read this, because I thought I was the only one. Every December 25th, I have this little ritual where I get a whole plate of cookies and a glass of milk and I lay down infront of the fire. But it's so warm and nice and cozy, I always drift off into my dreams, that always seem to be about sugar plums.

I wake up the next day, the whole plate of cookies is gone. Milk too. What a pain in the ass.

.... yeah... thanks for the presents, asshole. One of those presents better fuckin' be a brand new bag of cookies.  

(more)

Lights down. Lights up. Derek is a cop and he’s sitting at his desk. John is sitting across from him.

Derek: I’m Derek.

John: John.

Derek: No, Derek.

John laughs.

John: It’s nice to meet you, Derek.

Derek: Nice to meet you too. I’m your equipment man. Whatever supplies or weapons you need for this mission I can get for you. Also, I think it’s cool that you’re going on a mission. Nobody goes on missions. Only cool people do. Right now you’re one of the coolest people I’ve ever met. I wish my entire circle of friends went on missions. Especially dressed up in superhero costumes and working as a collective. That’ll never happen because none of us are skilled enough to be superheroes but you are and that makes you my favorite person.

John: I’m not a hero.  

Derek: Yeah, but you were hired to carry out assassinations. You went on missions. You eliminated targets. You- infiltrated compounds. You did everything I love doing in video games. That makes you MY hero. I read your file and it said you killed someone with a sniper rifle. Is that true?

John: Yeah. So?

Derek: So? Snipers are one of the coolest all time archetypes. Everyone wants to be a sniper. I can’t look out my window at another building without picturing myself either running across the rooftop - or finding the best place on it to sniper people from.

John: You think about that every time you see a building?

Derek: Not all the time. Sometimes I picture the building blowing up and collapsing - or I imagine a huge puff of smoke coming from the bottom and the whole building taking off in to space like a rocket.

John: Your imagination sounds like a lot of fun.

Derek: So does your life! You must have amazing stories to tell.

John: Look – There’s no way I can say this without sounding cheesy but I’m not proud of what I’ve done and I don’t want to glorify it.

Derek: That doesn’t sound cheesy. And who cares what someone calls it so long as they get the point?

John: Huh. Good point. That’s smart. 

Derek: Smart enough to - get a story?

John: I don’t think so.

Derek: But it’s so rare I get to talk to anyone with such entertaining true stories. Look – ok here - I know the difference between right and wrong and I don’t think it’s a wonderful thing that you used to be a killer. But - what you did is still fun to picture and I would love to picture it.

John: What do you want me to do? Pull out the crime scene photos of my victims and narrate the story picture by picture?

Derek: If - you - did – that - you would be -my best friend.  

John: Fine. I have a story for you. Hold on to something though. I don’t know how your system is going to react to how amazing this is.

Derek: Oh, this is so awesome. Tell me.

John: Christopher Huxley was one of my targets. He was a big time drug dealer and had a small group of soldiers working for him. When he was in a hotel room, -he had guys posted at the door. If you were asked to meet him - there would be men with submachine guns patting you down as you entered the room and another set of guys standing behind him while you were talking.

Derek: Just like in the movies.

John: Funny you should say that. You’re going to swear this story had a choreographer.

Derek: Oh my god. Tell me tell me tell me.

John: I systematically take out his thugs and end up hunting down his number one bodyguard. He didn’t have a weapon on him at the time but he got the jump on me and we actually ended up wrestling over my gun. 

Derek: No way.

John: Yes way. In the struggle - gun goes flying and we both go after it. He gets to it before I do- and as he’s lifting the gun to shoot me -I pull a knife out of my boot - throw it - and hit him right in the face.

Derek: You – I love you. I wish friendships had marriages I would best friend marry you.

John: He stagers back and falls over. I rush him - get my gun back and shoot him.

Derek: He didn’t die from the knife though his brains?

John: Well, that’s where the story gets a bit anticlimactic. It wasn’t exactly the best throw and I hit him with the handle instead of the blade. It broke his nose and knocked him over. I mean, I still won - but it wasn’t perfect.

Derek: Are you kidding me?

John: Yeah.

Derek: What?

John: Yeah. That story never happened.

Derek: Aw, come on.

John: You thought I wrestled a guy for a gun and threw my knife at him while he was about to shoot me? Does that sound realistic to you?

Derek: But it wasn’t perfect. You hit him with the handle.

John laughs.

John: That’s that part that made it sound realistic? I was sure you would have known I was joking after I said that.

Derek: No way. It sounded reasonable that not everything worked out how you wanted it to. That part totally did it for me. 

John: Wow. I could have told you anything.

Derek: And I would have believed it.

John: What if I told you I fought off a small group of ninja in a children’s playground?

Derek: That looks so awesome in my head. I can picture you kicking them down the slide and swinging across the monkey bars and stuff. Your descriptions make my imagination go crazy. Give me another one.

John: Oh man, I don’t know what to tell you.

Derek: Make something up.

John: Um – I was fighting a Chinese triad member and I dropped down into the splits and punched him in the balls just as someone hit a gong.

Derek: Awesome. That’s wicked. Give me one more. 

John: Oh, come on.

Derek: Please? Just one more. 

John: Uh - A guy threw a grenade at me and I picked up a baseball bat and hit it right back into his face.

They laugh.

Derek: I would have bought all that. All of it. I would have believed it just cause it’s more fun to believe it.

John: Because it’s more fun to believe it. Why don’t people just tell me that when I ask them why they believe in God? That would make perfect sense. Cause I feel like it. Just say that. Cause that’s how it is. That answer is way too confident for most people I know who say they believe in God.

Derek: I’ll say this about God. We were having a lot of fun with this conversation until God showed up. Now the mood’s a lot more - gloomy.

John: Yeah. That’s what happened to the world.

Derek: Sorry, I have you marked down on this form as Optimist? Should I erase that and put pessimist?

John: No. Just erase it.

Derek: Ooooo. Cryptic assassin. Not an optimist or a pessimist. So skilled in the art of  camouflage he can hide his thoughts and feelings. (in an older man’s voice) “Derek, why isn’t anything marked down under Optomist and Pessimist on John’s form?” (regular voice) Well, boss, it’s because his emotions are invisible. He wrote something, we’ll just never know what it is.

John laughs.

John: So, you’re going to get me my supplies?

Derek: If you know about it- it’s not much of a supplies (surprise) now is it?

Pause

John: That was the dumbest joke I have ever heard.

Derek: It’s more important to make a joke than it is to tell a good one. I saw an opportunity and I took it.

John: Fine. I’ll play along and act like I had no idea at the supplies party. 

Derek: Aw, see? There you go. That joke sucked shit but you still made it. Good for you.

John: Thanks.

Derek: I can get you whatever you want - no questions asked.

John: Ok. I need a white t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans and a brown leather jacket.

Derek: Why?

John: I want to make a scarecrow that looks like Bruce Willis.

Derek: What?

John: To wear. What did you think I wanted clothes for?

Derek: Wait a sec - is this for a disguise?

John: Yeah. Good instincts. That set of clothes is actually going to be part of a disguise. 

Derek: No way. I’ve never done anything in disguise.

John: I love disguises.

Derek: I love disguises too. I probably love them more than you do. I bet I wear more disguises than you do too. But you wear them outside on missions and I just wear them in my house for fun.

John: Uh – white t-shirt -

Derek: Blue jeans and a brown leather jacket. That’s exactly Bruce Willis. I can picture him so easily in my head wearing that. I would love to see him in a cornfield as a scarecrow with two pistols protecting the corn from gun-fighting crows.

John: Especially if it’s in Mel Gibson’s cornfield. 

Derek: Oh, well, that’s just an amazing premise.

John: It can’t be Mel Gibson from Signs, though. It has to be something like –

Derek: Mad Max?

John: Yeah, that’s pretty good. I wouldn’t mind seeing him fist fight Tina Turner for some corn on the cob.

Derek: And just before he breaks her neck someone whispers: “If you built it they will come”

John: Kevin Costner’s in there now? How many superstars can we work into a cornfield?

Derek: Well, Kevin Costner from Field Of Dreams is a way to work in James Earl Jones.

John: Darth Vader versus Bruce Willis the scarecrow and Mad Max.

Derek: And for fun throw in the predator, the alien, Batman, uh – a bear –

John: Why are we talking about this?

Derek: Cause it’s awesome.

John: I need a white t-shirt, blue jeans and a brown leather jacket. 

Derek: I know. You said that already. Do you need anything else?

John: Yes. I need some small frame circular John Lennon glasses, a black suit with a white shirt and a red tie.

Derek: That’s an interesting scarecrow. Who is that, Steve Buscemi?

John: Shut. Up.

Derek: Anything else?

John: Did you get all that?

Derek: Yeah. You want me to rob Bruce Willis and Steve Buscemi and give you their clothes.

John: Exactly.

Derek: No problem at all.

A pause in which Derek writes something on a piece of paper.

John: I don’t see you having a problem with Steve Buscemi but how are you going to take down Bruce Willis?

Derek: With Samuel L Jackson.

John: Don’t bring him in to this. I don’t need an afro and a gun. Wait, I do need a gun. But you can’t get it for me.

Derek: I can get anything for you.

John: Get me a unicorn.

Derek: You think that’s funny? If I brought a unicorn in here he would rampage all over this office and horn us both in the face. You think because unicorns are white they’re good natured?

John: That’s why I want you to get me one. So I can murder it.

Derek: Nice.

Pause.

John: Ok, this is funny. But again, why are we talking about this? 

Derek: Hrm?

John: Why are we talking about this?

Derek: What?

John: John Lennon glasses –

Derek: - Black suit, white shirt, red tie and a briefcase.

John: Exactly.

Derek: And where can I get that gun?

John: You can’t. That gun has its own mythology. It’s a criminal legend.  Out of your reach. Actually, one of my disguises will be used to get it.

Derek: Which one? Not the Bruce Willis.

John: It is the Bruce Willis.

Derek: That makes so much sense. You put on the Bruce Willis for action missions and you wear the Steve Buscemi for everything else. 

John: This is hilarious. I’m going to be using the Buscemi for an interrogation. Not an interrogation – but – for – I don’t know what to call it.

Derek: You need to get inside someone’s head?

John: Yeah. That’s exactly what I need to do.

Derek: And get some information.

John: Yeah. There you go.

Derek: Then the Buscemi is the suit for you. I’ll give them both to you for free if you tell me the story of that gun.

John: Sure. When I was contracted to assassinate my first target, the man who hired me had a custom made pistol built specifically for the hit. It was fired once, by me, and given back to my employer who bronzed it and fastened it to a plaque. It was made for one shot and after it succeeded the gun was retired.

Derek: That’s a cool story.

John: I’ve got lots of cool stories.

Derek: Do you need anything else?

John: Yeah. Get me a cornfield. I want to hold a tournament.

Derek: That’s wicked.

John: Can I ask you something?

Derek: Nope.

Derek tears the page he wrote on from his notebook.

Derek: I have to get going. I’ll get your things for you and you’ll have them in an hour from now.

Derek stands. John laughs.

John: See you later.

Derek: Quickly, what do you want to ask me? If I can answer it in the time it takes me to get my coat on I will.

John: Doesn’t it bother you that –

Derek: I didn’t bring a coat to work today. See you later.

Exit Derek.

John: Wow. You really shouldn’t have left me alone in your office.

Lights down.

(more)

Lights up in a confession booth. TIM sits waiting dressed up like a priest. Enter JOHN into the other side of the booth.

John: Can God create a boulder so heavy not even he can move it? I think so. Until he decides that it’s time to change the rules. God can do anything he wants. He can screw himself over if he feels like it and then reverse the effect when he gets annoyed.

John takes a drink.

John: I love this story. Judas rats out Jesus Christ and ends up hanging himself. A furious and vengeful God puts a curse on his soul. Check this out. God sends down an Angel to find every single one of Judas’ reincarnations and torment that life as much as possible. If Judas gets married, the angel kills his wife. If he has kids, he kills the kids. The angel spends his time taking away everything that person cares about. Eventually the angel ends up killing him and the soul of Judas recycles into a new body. When the angel finds him he does it all over again. As part of the curse, God erases his own memory and makes it so that the reincarnations of Judas are invisible to him. He doesn’t register his presence and he also doesn’t remember initiating the curse.

John takes a drink.

John: God used to be a prick. He’d kill people that didn’t believe in him. He’d burn your crops if you didn’t say his name properly. He was an asshole. But he turned himself around and became a forgiving God. Now, it doesn’t matter what you do, God will forgive you. He’d forgive Judas if he knew what was going on. He’d reverse the curse and his soul would be free. But his more vengeful, younger self made it so that there was a part of the universe that even God wasn’t aware of. That’s the story of the boulder so heavy not even he could move it. God knows everything. But he made it so that there was one thing he didn’t know.

John takes a drink.

John: Now, I don’t believe in God. I believe in mathematical balance. Everything started at zero and it’ll all eventually go back to zero. Balance controls everything. It’s a force, not a conscious being that makes decisions. You contribute a positive force to the world and the world becomes more positive. You contribute something negative and the world gets shittier and shittier.  

John takes a drink.

John: The only real certainty is that whatever you do, good or bad, it’s done. You’re responsible for it. You can’t take it back. Nobody is holding a gun to anyone’s head telling them how to live their lives and people don’t want to be responsible for what they do. They want excuses. God is the perfect excuse. Ever notice how - when - something good happens - people thank God and when something bad happens they wonder why God would let that happen? Do you know what that does? It let’s people think they have no control over their lives or their actions and, whatever happens - God did it. Not them. That’s ridiculous. They have zero responsibility toward their own existence. Whatever happens to them - good or bad - they won’t believe they had anything to do with it. No reason to get smarter, no reason to be a humble person and no reason to evolve. No matter what happens. God’s responsible. What a horrible way to plateau the evolution of a species.

John takes a drink.

A pause.

John: So? How have you been?

Tim: I’m fascinated at the moment. That was a good story. I’m also confused as to why you come to church if you don’t believe in God.

John: You’re not Father MacKenzie.

Tim: A very astute observation. I had you pegged for someone who would have at least checked to make sure they were venting to the right person.

John: I don’t feel threatened. I’m comfortable talking to a stranger.

Tim: Tell me your sins then, stranger. 

John: My sins are for Father MacKenzie.

Tim: I’m wearing the disguise. You can pretend.

John: Who are you?

Tim: Guess.

John: You’re here to arrest me.

Tim: There’s no arresting you. We both know that. You’d kill me if I tried. You probably have a gun on you right now.

John: I do.

Tim: Well, what I have is this whole building surrounded. Why don’t we consider conversation as an alternative to shooting each other?

John: I’m fine with that. I planned on being in here for at least an hour anyway.

Tim: You and the priest have hour-long confessions?

John: He’s an insightful man.

Tim: How long has he known you?

John: Seven years.

Tim: And how often do you talk?

John: Every day.

Tim: Every day?

John: Every day.

Tim: Doesn’t he run out of advice?

John: Oh, he does. I frustrate him. It’s kind of funny. You know, you could have interrupted my story instead of letting me go through it thinking I was talking to him.

Tim: Why? It was a great story. Everyone loves a good story. Do you think you’re Judas?

John: No. I think there’s no such thing as Judas. Just like there’s no such thing as Harry Potter. And I hope nobody does what we did two thousand years from now - pick Harry Potter up out of the sand and read about a guy with magic powers who’s going to save us all. Cause if that happens, not only will we do nothing but wait for him to come solve all our problems for us - but we’ll miss a good story and never learn anything from it.

Tim: You’re an assassin.

John: I was an assassin.

Tim: Has life really changed so drastically in twenty-five years?

John: Absolutely.

Tim: What’s different?

John: Everything’s different. How long have you been watching me? Must have been a while.

Tim: A little while. It wasn’t easy to find you. You dropped off the face of the Earth at the top of your game. Something you wanna talk about?

John: No.

Tim: Come on. You’re in confession and neither of us is going anywhere.

John: It’s not that much of a complicated story. 

Tim: Good. Then you’ll have no problem explaining it.

Pause.

John: I just never really thought about the consequences of what I was doing until after it was done. It eventually just sort of struck me that I was ending other people’s lives and the wiser I got the more it bothered me.

Tim: But you were so good at it.

John: There’s all sorts of things I’m good at. That doesn’t mean I should be doing them. I’m sure I’m good at punching old ladies in the face and knocking them unconscious. Should I be out on the sidewalk right now crackin’ them in the head? I don’t think so.

Tim: Do you have any idea how hard the crew of the surveillance van would be laughing if they watched you go on an old lady rampage? Walking down the street wildly punching women aged 50 and up? They’d put that on youtube and that’s what you’d end up being famous for.

John: I guess it’s a pretty funny visual. Violence without consequences is hilarious. That’s what makes cartoons so cool. Dropping an anvil on a hungry coyote is funny - especially when he walks away crushed up like an accordion. Actually punching old ladies in the face is horrible. Thinking about it though, that’s funny.

They laugh.

John: All right. So, you found me. Good for you. Arrest me.

Tim: I told you. There’s no arresting you. You won’t come quietly. Watch. Hey, John. Come with me.

John: No.

Tim: See?

John: Well, what then?

Tim: Did you know I used to call you The Ghost Assassin?

John: That’s a ridiculous name. You could have at least called me The Poltergeist. That’s scarier than Ghost Assassin.

Tim: We never had a picture of you. Never had a description. Nothing. We couldn’t even put you on America’s Most Wanted. Although I’m not sure you would have qualified even if we did have a photo. You don’t have a handlebar mustache and everybody knows if you want to make it on that show you have to look like a redneck.

John laughs.

John: Stop making me laugh. I don’t want a friendship getting in the way if I have to kill you and I damn sure don’t want to picture myself with a mullet.

Tim: Not all cops are dicks. We’re just doing our job.

John: You’re not a cop. You’re better than a cop. You’re probably so good you can’t tell me who you are because the government hasn’t authorized you to share that kind of information with someone like me.

Tim: I’m an angel sent from god.

John: This is an amusing waste of time. What do you want?

Tim: What do you know about wormholes?

John: I know Sisko and the cast of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine are up in space right now protecting one.

Tim: So, nothing?

John: So, exactly.

Tim: Why do you come to church everyday?

John: Why would you ask me about wormholes and then come right back to where we started in the conversation?

Tim: Because I’m a conversational artist and I’m going somewhere with this so let me do my creative work and lead you gently into it.

John: You’re assuming what you’re about to tell me is going to be so overwhelming -

Tim: Why do you come to church everyday?

John: Are you going to arrest me or not?

Tim: There is no arresting you. Fine, I’ll answer for you and all you have to do is agree or disagree. You come to church because you regret the things you’ve done.

John: Disagree.

Tim: Why?

John: I don’t know. Because you’re an asshole.

Tim: See, it’s interesting that you won’t turn yourself in but you feel you deserve to be punished. What’s up with that?

John: I can’t turn off my self-preservation mechanism. I can’t kill myself and I can’t turn myself in. If someone tried to take me in I’d have to fight my way out of it. I have an overwhelming instinct to survive. That’s not to say I don’t deserve some form of punishment I just can’t bring that punishment on myself.

Tim: Guilt counts as a punishment. Guilt gets in the way of everything.

John: Guilt is a portable prison.

Tim: And a confession booth is a stationary one. You come in here every single day. You’ve been doing it for years.

John: Wormholes.

Tim: There’s no man on Earth that can take you down but maybe God can do it, right?

John: Oh, come on. I’m not the most dangerous man on Earth. I’m fifty years old. I can’t exactly handspring through a hail of gunfire. I’m looking for answers. I come to church for an alternate method of exploring my problems. Something abstract. My mind doesn’t work in mysterious ways and maybe if it did I could find a solution. I’ve got books on Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism – just about every religion you can think of. It doesn’t just cover this booth in this church.

Tim: So, your exploration is entirely religious?

John: I started with philosophy and moved on to that, yeah.

Tim: And what is it about this church that has kept you in the same place for such a long time? Found something in Catholicism?

John: Found someone.

Tim: Ah. You found Jesus.

John: I found father Mackenzie. He’s one of the most insightful people I’ve ever met.

Tim: Ha. You believe in a priest more than you believe in the religion.

John: That’s right. At least he responds every once in a while. Feel sorry for me yet?

Tim: I’m keeping my emotional distance. Feeling anything for you could be a tactic on your part to have me lower my defenses.

John: See? I can’t even have a regular conversation because of my past. I was an assassin. I killed people and that’s something I have to deal with. Whatever you do, you can’t take it back.

 Tim: Yes you can.

John: You’re an idiot.

Tim: I’m a scientist.

John: Scientists have white coats. You’re dressed up like a priest.

Tim: What I meant was - I work for an organization that has been able to fund the scientific means to take back the things we regret doing.

John: Yeah, it’s called alcohol and someone already invented it. Plus, it doesn’t take anything back it just distracts you and then makes everything worse. 

Tim: Why don’t you call yourself Jack anymore?

John: Jack is a completely different person than who I am now.

Pause.

John: I’m John. I want different things and think in different ways. Jack is someone I can’t stand.

Tim: Jack was an asshole.

John: Jack was an asshole.

Tim: Twenty-five years ago you were hired to carry out your first assassination. You remember your target?

John: Of course I do.

Tim: Three days before you killed him, a machine was built that could open a wormhole and time travel became possible.

Pause.

John: What are you talking abo-

Tim:  - I’m talking about the scientific reality of taking it all back.

John: That’s impossible.

Tim: That’s an uneducated statement. How do you know what’s possible in science and space-time. You got a PHD in physics?

John: Ok. Good point. Still don’t believe you.

Tim: Time Travel works but the farthest you can travel back – is - to when the technology was first invented. For the rest of time, everyone in the future will only be able to go as far back as - twenty-five years ago from today - because that’s when we built the machine. You open a wormhole in the present and a wormhole opens in the past. You can walk right through it like a gateway between time periods. You with me so far?

John: No, I’m not with you. But I’m listening. I wish I had a bag of popcorn because what you’re saying is pretty entertaining.

Tim: Twenty-five years ago you killed your first target and we both know how valuable they were.

John: Valuable? Are people for sale now?

Tim: Yes. As you’ll remember you were for sale and someone bought you and made you kill him.

Pause.

Tim: To this day his death continues to influence politics and I work for an agency that would greatly benefit from him being alive instead of being dead.

John: No problem for you then. You’ve got a time-fuck machine. Send back a tank and kill me. I can’t take a tank. I could get in a punch or two and break my hand before the tank unloads in my face and - Daffy Duck’s my head all the way around. Problem solved.

Tim: Not quite. You managed to get by us even though we knew you were coming after him. It’s not that easy. You’re second-guessing your own talents. In case you weren’t aware of this - you’re a very dangerous man. 

John: I’m not second-guessing myself I’m comparing my abilities to the potential of time travel and I ‘m just not that good.

Tim: But you are a threat - and why send back an agent that you would probably kill if we can just send you back instead? You’re expendable.

John: Hold on a second.

Tim: No - you’re not gonna ask me time travel questions, are you? If you are then please get ready for your head to explode over minor details that don’t really matter.

John: Are you suggesting - I go back in time - and kill my younger self?

Tim: Yep.

John: And you’re not joking?

Tim: Nope.

John: Then you’re an idiot and this is ridiculous.

Tim: It’s ridiculous that you come to church acting like you wish there was a way to take back what you’ve done - and now that I’m telling you there’s a way you can do that -you’re resisting. That’s ridiculous.

John: That’s not ridiculous. If someone told me I could have a bag of cash with no strings attached I wouldn’t believe them regardless of how much I wanted to have some money. Me regretting the things I’ve done - has nothing to do with whether or not I think time travel is a reality. 

Tim: Have some faith.

John: Oh, very funny. 

Tim: Look, I’m not here to arrest you so the best I can do is kill you and you’re already looking for a way to die. You’re convinced you’ve ruined your life so what have you got to lose? What’s the worse case scenario? I lead you into a trap, we have a legendary gunfight and you’ll either win  - or die like you want anyway. I’ll make you a deal. If I’m lying you can kick me in the balls. How’s that?

John: I was considering doing that for fun anyway.

Tim: Don’t listen to what I have to say. Come see for yourself. What would be the point of me telling you this if I thought I could kill you or arrest you? I’d have tried to do one or the other already. This isn’t an elaborate plot. I could have had a sniper take you out on your way in here if I wanted you dead and we could have stormed the church and tackled you if I wanted you in jail. But the only plan that would involve me telling you about wormholes is a plan that involves wormholes. 

John: This is insane. What happens if I go back and kill my younger self? I shoot him right in my face. What happens to me?

Tim: You cease to exist.

John: Oh, good. Everybody wins.

Tim: What did you expect life to hand you from here on in? Were you planning on going to church every day until you died and accomplish - nothing at all? Do something about it. Stand behind what you’re saying. You want there to be a way to take back the things you’ve done. You say so every single day. Well, there is a way. Wanna go do it? Or would you rather complain about it and never find an answer?

John: Shooting my younger self and ceasing to exist is suicide. I already told you. Self-sacrifice just doesn’t work for me.

Tim: It’s still not putting the gun to your own head.

John: Yes it is. It’s exactly that.

Tim: You’re John. He’s Jack.

John: And when he dies I die too. You’re making it sound like I should be protecting him.

Tim: All I’m doing is assuming that - on a scale - your regrets would weigh more than your will to live. You’re a broken man because of the things you’ve done. If you cared that much about your life you’d be making more of an effort to move on and live it. Now, would you like to come with me and do something about your situation or would you rather sit there in your box pretending to be a good person?

Pause.

John: I’ll take the box.

Tim laughs.

Tim: Don’t make me laugh while I’m trying to be intimidating.

John: It’s fun to make people laugh.

Tim: Are you coming with me or not?

Pause.

John: Yeah, I’m coming with you.

Tim: Good. By the way, how does the story end?

John: What story?

Tim: The soul of Judas and his many cursed reincarnations. How does he escape and reverse the curse?

John: He saves someone’s life. As he’s being chased by the angel he sees someone who’s about to die and he goes out of his way to save them. God didn’t figure in the influence of Judas on the rest of history because he forced himself to forget about him, but, when he alters someone else’s destiny, God looks down and says: “Who is that?” God, being all-powerful, demands the answer and gets it. He then remembers the whole story and, being a more forgiving god than he used to be, forgives Judas - and reverses the curse. The angel bursts in to flames and returns to heaven leaving Judas to live out the rest of his life however he wants.

Tim: Who’s story is that?

John: It’s my story.

Tim: You wrote that?

John: I never put it down on paper but, yeah - I put it in my head.

Tim: You’re an impressive person.

John: Yeah. Let’s go move that boulder.

(more)

"You've got the whole world in your hand."

Let's dig...

 I've got the whole world in my hand. So, I extend my arm and open my fingers, palm up. Surprisingly, I can easily picture my fingers wrapping around the bottom of the world to hold it steady - were the world hand sized, it would most certainly fit in the palm of my hand.

 Define the world. "The world is the place in which I live." Too general. The universe is where you live too. Sometimes, you live in your sorrows and you're also an expert at living in the past. Be more specific.

 "The world is my natural surrounding." Too abstract. Because that defintion defines more than the world. It defines concepts that surround you. It encompasses judgemental people and paranoia. You're only human - your weaknesses are all around you too.

 "Fine. The world is.... planet earth." Is it? What if planet earth were destroyed and you were living somewhere else in space? Would that not be a NEW world? Worlds seem to be portable things that change everytime you move them.

 "The world is... whatever I want it to be."

 Judges? Yes. We'll accept that answer.

 So, the world is whatever I make it, and I've got the whole world in my hand. I look to my palm and see the lines a psychic would read to reveal my destiny.

My world is most certainly inside myself. And the external world is whatever I make it, because it changes depending on how you think and how you feel. And the closer to personal contentment you get, the less things bother you.

And suddenly the world is a most beautiful place, because you know exactly how to look at it.

The skin of the palm of my hand is the skin of my arm, my face, my back, my feet, it's all connected. I am in the palm of my own hand and the world as I know it is me.

 Indeed, I do have the whole world in my hand.

 So does everybody.

(more)

I keep seeing the same shape in nature.

If you look at a river from overhead it's a jagged shape that looks like a lightning bolt. Also, when you look at a tree, the branches are in the same form as a river or a lightning strike. Finally, the human nervous system is also in the same shape as the other.

It makes me smile to think that trees are an extension of nature's nervous system.  

(more)