Manifesto
April 2000
Welcome to Harmony
There once was a man that lived in a little log cabin in the middle
of the woods. He was a pervert. Therefore, he had no choice but to
remove himself from proper society. His divergence was something that
had plagued him his entire life. Even when he was newly created he
couldn't help but think of perversion. That made him an outcast. This
left him with little choice but to pack up his belongings and move to
the woods. So that's what he did.
Everyone in the world is faulted. And everyone, at one time or
another, falls victim to those faults. For example, some folks like to
share the same bed. Others enjoy showering without clothes on and such.
But the ownership of cats and dogs is not an evil that's so easily
overlooked. Owning cats and dogs, and allowing them to roam around ones
house unhindered, is well beyond acceptable. It's perverted.
Some of you might have heard stories of a time when people used to
keep cats and dogs as pets. I know, it's a disgusting thought, but
that's what some people believe. They used to even go so far as to walk
them and feed them special foods. To most folks that probably seems
rather disturbing, but again, that's what some people believe. There are
even historians that have tried to prove that, long ago, there were even
cemeteries built for cats and dogs. They were called 'pet cemeteries'. I
know, it's rather hard to swallow, isn't it.
That aside, this man had numerous cats and dogs running around in his
house and in his yard. He even used a couple of the dogs to scare people
off if they happened to get too near his little log cabin. It worked, of
course. I mean, who wouldn't be terrified by the sheer perversion of
them. They were, after all, allowed to engage in whatever form of
disgusting behavior that their tiny little animal brains desired. Truly
sickening indeed, but a fact. I'm sure if God had intended for animals
to act in such a way it would say as much in the good book. But it
doesn't. There's nothing in there about animals fornicating. Just
blessed immaculation. And to think some people actually believe it when
they're told that animals used to give birth to their young. Who, in
their right mind, would believe such a thing?
The reason that I mention this man at all is that he used to live in
my town. His proper name, that which was given him by the Apostles, was
Samuel Joshua. Before he left town, he made a point of telling people
that his new name was Hobbie Miller. I have no idea what a Hobbie is,
but it's definitely not in the good book, that's for certain. Coupled
with the fact that he was a pervert, it made it all the more difficult
for people to tolerate him. So, when he realized that his presence in
town was making folks uncomfortable, he left. Which was probably the
best thing that he could have done.
In the beginning, Samuel Joshua was a rather harmless fellow. Sure,
he was perverted and all, but he was harmless besides. It's no excuse
for perversion, mind you, but the good book teaches us to leave that
sort of judgement to the Apostles. We, as ordinary folk, do not possess
the wisdom to know the difference between what is to be tolerated and
what is not. So Samuel Joshua remained in town until he changed his
name. After that, he packed up his things and left. The truth of the
matter is that he had been secretly building a machine in his little
cabin in the woods. A terrible machine that would cause a great deal of
trouble. Had anyone known that he was secretly building the machine then
I doubt he would have been allowed to move to the woods. He would have
been arrested and sent away somewhere. But no one knew about the
machine, as Samuel Joshua had been rather cunning about it. He had
everyone convinced that he was merely a pervert when, in fact, he was
something much worse. He was Godless. He had let God abandon him.
November 16,
My name is Hobbie Miller. I am thirty seven years old. My
governess, Ruth Mary, fell ill some months ago and recently passed.
She was one hundred and twelve years of age. She told me that, many
generations ago, the members of her family used to go by the name
Miller. According to local legend, one of the Millers - a man named
Hobbie Miller - was one of the last people to practice physical
medicine. Physical Medicinists were people that were able to repair
those who were hurt or sick. Sometimes they even cut people open and
removed harmful things from inside of them. Ruth told me that, in
Hobbie Miller's time, it used to be quite common for people to be
brought back to life when they were dead. So I've always held him in
the highest regard. He was not a believer, said Ruth. He believed only
in his physical medicine.
I am keeping this journal as a testament to my work here. I have
been living in this cabin for two months now. During these months I
have been too busy working on the machine to begin this journal. But
now that it is completed I will endeavor to make up for lost time.
When I first arrived here I was worried that someone might come across
the cabin and wander inside. Being that I spent most of my waking
hours in the cellar, I would most likely not notice if someone where
to do so. As a precaution I have taken to putting the dogs out each
morning just in case someone were to come by. Knowing the people
around here, they'd most certainly run for their lives at the sight of
such perverted creatures. What absolute lunacy. Ruth used to tell me
stories about a time when people used to keep animals as pets. This
was long ago, I suppose. Ruth said a great many things to me that I
had trouble believing at first. My favorite was always the story about
how there used to actually be vendors that sold books. Imagine that.
Thousands upon thousands of books. I would have very much liked to
have seen them.
As far as the machine is concerned, I believe it to be working
properly now. It was very difficult to align the lenses but, having
replaced the larger of the two, it seems to be operating as expected.
Tomorrow morning I will attempt to use it for the first time. I will
continue this journal in the event that all goes well and I am not
horribly killed in the process.
The Apostles, who guide our lives, were
never privy to Samuel Joshua's behavior prior to his arrest. I am not
one to judge the Apostles, as only they have the right to judge, but the
mystery surrounding Samuel Joshua's judgement soured many of the
townsfolk. God forgive me for saying as much, but it's the truth. The
fact that I am writing this now only proves that Samuel Joshua's actions
affected us all in a manner that is difficult to explain. For the first
time in my life I have been diluted with impure thoughts. I have
contemplated the divinity of immaculation and the structure of our way
of life. I have let lies about the past consume me with a strange hope
that some of them could be truths instead. All because of one man.
Change is not something that people take lightly. It is raged against
until there remains nothing left to do but submit. The Apostles believe
that this is why so many of us have been infected with Samuel Joshua's
sickness. But the question remains - if they were not exposed to Samuel
Joshua's behavior and words, then how can they assume to be familiar
with the effects of them?
November 17,
It would seem that the machine has proved itself to be rather
unpredictable. Instead of electrical transference in an outward array,
the lenses reversed the current, pulling energy towards them. This
caused a critical reaction between the lenses, where a large sphere of
energy appeared. Having no idea what to make of the sphere, I removed
the subject from the focal location and placed it between the lenses,
directly underneath the energy sphere. The results were negative. The
subject did not show any signs of reanimation whatsoever. So I
disengaged the machine and removed the subject.
My unscientific observation: It's a piece of shit.
November 18,
This morning, while I was making breakfast, I heard a voice talking
in the cellar. Concerned with matters of secrecy and safety, I
immediately took up a large knife and went down to see who it was.
Nearing the bottom of the stairs I came upon a man who was sitting on
the floor petting one of the dogs. The man looked at me and smiled. I
immediately concealed the knife behind my back. Entering the room, I
slowly made my way over to the dogs, who were rolling about on the
ground in front of a man in a state of euphoria. It was then that the
man spoke. He said 'Hello'. Confused, I stood there for several
seconds trying to determine a response. And then one dawned on me. So
I said 'What are you doing in my cellar?' The man's reaction was to
stand up and look around the room, confused. 'What do you mean, your
cellar?' he said. So I said 'You're in my cellar. Are you lost?' The
man's reaction to this question was to laugh. Then he shook his head
and said 'No, I'm not lost. I just didn't want to stay in that thing,'
and pointed to the machine. I dropped the knife on the floor and
immediately vomited.
Retraction - not a piece of shit.
In the ancient days, the people of
the world used to engage in long, drawn out, conflicts that served only
to further their lands, their influence, and their wealth. This no
longer occurs, of course. Back then, the early peoples worshipped false
gods and are said to have sacrificed living things to them as gestures
of their faithfulness. These false gods had a variety of names, all of
which have long since been forgotten. It was also not uncommon for
people of different faiths to fight one another. Such clashes are well
documented in the good book. The fault of these people was that they
were not immaculate constructs. They were not created by their gods
directly and therefore struggled with the purpose of their existence.
This made them extremely aggressive and incapable of rational thought.
This is why their civilizations and faiths failed.
Of course, it seems silly to think that there was ever a time when
people weren't directly created by God himself. The Apostles aid in
God's creation, of course, but without the divine's instruction the
world would be empty. Immaculation is the reason why we, as a people,
have succeeded where so many others have failed. We are the direct
relations of our creator. Though different in appearance, we share his
shapes and forms. This is why we want for nothing. Because all is
provided us by our beloved God. He provides us with the meat that we
cook and the clothe that we use to make clothing. His existence is
proven us day in and day out. If he did not exist, then there would be
no rational explanation for most things. They simply do not appear out
of thin air.
November 19,
I have no rational explanation for what has happened, but I'm not
about to say anything negative about the accidental outcome. My
initial attempts to revive a deceased person were obviously
unsuccessful. But what has happening in place of it is something truly
amazing. The man that I encountered in my basement is, in fact, the
embodiment of someone's (or some things) being that has been deceased
for some time. His outer appearance is nothing more than a mental
construct that I, myself, am forced to create to deal with his
proximity, I would suspect. The man refers to himself as 'a gost'. I
am unfamiliar with the word, but have taken to calling him by that
name. This humors him to no end for some reason. His last name if Jef.
He responds better to this name than 'gost'.
I spent the better part of yesterday speaking with Gost Jef in an
attempt to discover his origins. It seems that he was from a world
that was quite different from our own. His recollections of life are
alien to me, as is some of his vocabulary. He has spoken to me about a
variety of things including something called 'baseball' and a
phenomenon called 'movys'. He claims to be from a place known as
'Miniapilis'. There is much more, of course, but am too tired to
continue.
There are times when I
look at myself in the mirror and think I can see some of the malady that
consumed Samuel Joshua. It frightens me to no end. My work aids me in
forgetting this. I am a candle maker. I have been a candle maker my
whole life. The process of making candles is tedious and quite often
fraught with disappointing results. Over time you get better at it
though, and such occurrences become less frequent. Sometimes I find
myself daydreaming of other, more complicated, methods of candle making.
I have even gone so far as to sketch some of them. But they make no
sense. This is one of the reasons why I fear that I've contracted Samuel
Joshua's disease.
November 22,
I have been delinquent in my writing. This is wholly due to my
conversations with Gost Jef. I have learned many interesting and
bizarre things from him, some of which are rather worrisome. It would
seem that Gost Jef comes from a civilization that must have existed a
considerable number of years before our own, as I have discovered that
his people kept both cats and dogs as pets in large numbers (just as
Ruth had told me). He also told me that his people used to 'grow'
their own foods and customarily slaughtered living animals for meat.
The term 'immaculation' means nothing to him. He is both sad and happy
to have been given the opportunity to meet me, though he is quite
concerned about returning to wherever it was that I accidentally
pulled him from. He has never referred to it as anything in
particular. He has not mentioned God to me.
The interesting discovery came during our conversation this
afternoon. Gost Jef heard me refer to immaculation again and asked me
what it was. My description was rather concise, but it confused him
none the less. He asked me if all people in the world were created by
God directly and I told him that they were. It was then that he said
the most amazing thing. He said 'So what you're saying is, is that
women do not give birth to babees?' I immediately asked him what a
babee was. He said that babees were little people that came out of
larger people who grew them in their stomachs. This worried me. I told
him that such things did not exist. That all people were created
immaculately. That all people began life the same size as they would
be at the end of it. He simply could not believe me. He found it
rather upsetting. Our conversation came to and end.
Almost a year went by before Samuel
Joshua started causing problems. Most of us had forgotten about him by
then. And then, one night, he came back into town and started filling
everyone's heads with dangerous ideas. There was little left to do but
alert the Apostles and wait for them to remedy the situation. So the
town endured Samuel Joshua for three days and three nights before four
Apostles arrived to deal with him. They took him away, kicking and
screaming, never to be seen again.
November 23,
Gost Jef was receptive to me this morning, despite the abrupt
conclusion of our conversation yesterday. He was filled with
questions, some of which I could not answer. Those that I could, I
offered what I knew. Gost Jef wanted to know more about immaculation
and how it was possible for people to be born if they weren't grown
inside of stomachs. He also wanted to know if people had sex. I told
him that they did, but that it was only allowed to occur if the two
participants were wed. Gost Jef seemed to feel that sex had something
to do with these babees growing inside of stomachs. So I explained to
him that people were created through immaculation, a process that
involved the immaculate conception of beings in a controlled
environment where they are tended to by the Apostles until such time
that they are ready to be born. Gost Jef seemed to think this process
very wrong. He called it 'artificial'. He then asked me if anyone had
ever bothered to ask the Apostles how it was done. To my knowledge, no
one had. Gost Jef then became very upset again. But this time he did
not end the conversation.
Instead, he told me to listen carefully to him. He then went about
explaining various things to me that seemed beyond belief. Things
like, the world is actually a large sphere that is floating in a vast
darkness. That the sun is also a sphere but is actually an immense
distance from our own world. That all men originated from the same
place, that they underwent a process of evolution that took billions
of years. And on and on. It would be impossible for me to fully detail
everything in this fashion, so I have decided to compile lists
instead.
The effects of Samuel
Joshua's malady were extensive. During the three days and nights that he
stood in the middle of the town square speaking, many people dared not
leave in fear of allowing him to escape back into the woods. So they
remained there and waited for the Apostles to arrive. Had they known
that his thoughts would poison them, I'm sure they would have returned
to their homes. But Samuel Joshua's words had a strange affect on them.
And as time passed, many of them began to believe the things that he was
saying. All of this led to countless years of unwanted hardships for the
people of the town and many were called back to God.
December
- baseball - a game involving two teams, white square bags, and a
ball.
- movys - pictures and sounds that are flashed onto a large white
square.
- miniapilis - a large city within a state called minasoda.
- united states - a union of states that form a single nation.
- planit - a large formation of gasses and matter floating in the
sky.
- irth - the name of this planit.
- babee - what comes out of a woman's stomach as a result of sex.
Of course, there were those in the
town who's faith was too strong to be broken by the words of one man.
Those that reviled what Samuel Joshua had said were eager to see him
punished. After Samuel Joshua was taken away by the Apostles, many
people were anxious to learn what had been done with him. Many demanded
that they bare witness to his judgement and punishment. This caused a
great deal of unrest in the town. So much so that several Apostles were
forced to flee. For some days the town was completely lawless. Angry
mobs took to clashing in the streets, one group demanding that Samuel
Joshua be returned to the town and sent back to God, and the other
demanding his freedom. This left the Apostles with no choice but to
purify the town completely.
January,
- kar - a thing used to transport people at high speed.
- plain - a flying machine used to transport people over great
distances.
- dimocresee - a system in which people are able to choose who
governs them.
- urop - a foreign land, quite far from Gost Jef's native
miniapilis.
- gun - a weapon that discharges metal at high speed. Used for
killing.
- twins - name of the great baseball team of minasoda
- muny - paper used to obtain goods and services from others.
- space - the name given the blackness that surrounds planits.
- ashia - another far distant land. Close to urop.
Even though the town was purified
by the Apostles, the effects of Samuel Joshua's disease are still
evident. From time to time, someone will begin to show symptoms of the
malady, forcing others to notify the Apostles immediately. Thankfully, I
have yet to show drastic signs of the disease. Sometimes I wonder if my
own symptoms are nothing more than a figment of my imagination. It is
very difficult to tell the difference. The disease is extremely hard to
detect until it is too late. After which, the Apostles are summoned and
you are taken away. I am not sure whether you are sent back to God or
not. But it is uncommon for people who have contracted the disease to
recover from it. The Apostles tell us that the disease is usually fatal
and that only a handful of people have survived it. They say that the
survivors are sent to live in a far off place so that there is no chance
for the disease to spread. It is called Harmony.
February,
I have given up trying to put everything down. It's impossible.
There's just too much information and not enough time to properly
record it. Despite the fact that Gost Jef is eager for me to figure
out a way to send him back, he is still very willing to talk with me.
I am beginning to realize that there are a number of things wrong with
the world. I have not entirely come to this conclusion because of the
things that Gost Jef had told me these past months, but also because I
have come to realize that if a man is controlled then he is not a man.
He is a slave. The more that I examine the workings of my own life and
my own society, the more I feel like a slave. The more I feel enslaved
by the Apostles and their unquestioned authority. This leads me to
wonder why my own society does not question itself. It is one thing to
believe in something. It is another thing altogether to believe in
something so much that all other things appear incorrect. I believe
this to be inherently dangerous. Not only because it has robbed me of
myself, but because it has robbed me of my own possibilities.
Some people believe that Samuel
Joshua was not sent back to God for his crimes. That, in fact, he lives
in Harmony and is alive to this very day. I find this very difficult to
believe. It would make no sense to allow him to live. Knowing that he
faced an eternity of anguish in the confines of hell for his
faithlessness, it would only make sense to send him back to God.
June,
I have spend the past months attempting to reverse the machine's
energy flow in an attempt to send Gost Jef back. Last night, after
what has seemed like an eternity, I finally succeeded. Gost Jef is
gone. To where, I cannot say for certain. Perhaps he has returned to
his beloved Miniapilis. I hope so. I have been rather delinquent
concerning this journal, but thought it prudent to spend the majority
of my time trying to recalibrate the machine. With Gost Jef gone, I
feel that it is time that I ended it. I am left here with the dogs and
am looking forward to rediscovering the solitude that this place
offered me when I first arrived. I have also decided to destroy the
machine. It had crossed my mind to keep my assembly notes, but I think
it best to destroy them as well. It would be unfortunate if someone
found them, constructed a new machine, and made the mistake of
trapping someone else.
Instead of this journal I have decided to begin something new. I
have decided to compile a complete record of my time with Gost Jef. I
realize that this will be quite an undertaking, but am confident that
my enthusiasm will not wane. This, therefore, is at an end.
It is winter now. The town has been
blanketed with a covering of fresh snow. Winter has always been a
strange time for me. I have, over the last two nights, dreamed strange
dreams. Visions that I cannot readily explain. I see myself standing in
the middle of a vast field bordered by massive trees on all sides. I
stand there, my arms raised towards the sky, and wait for something. For
what, I cannot say. It is then that I usually wake up. The effects of
these dreams are worrisome. Every morning when I awake, I am drawn to my
desk and feel as though I should write something. But nothing ever comes
to mind. It is causing me a great deal of anxiety.
To Whom It May Concern,
My name is Hobbie Miller. I am thirty eight years old. If you are
reading this then I am probably dead. If you are reading this then you
have discovered my cabin, the book, and this letter. Lucky you. Know
then that, if I am dead, I consider my early demise a fair exchange
for what I have been given the opportunity to learn. My decision to
return to town was made with a clear and sober mind and I will have no
regrets whatever occurs. I have resigned myself to the fact that the
apostles will not let me live for the things that I will say. My fears
are no longer a consideration. Only the book matters. The book is
life.
During the past five months I have shared what I have learned with
four other people. All four of these people have read the book that
you now possess. Each also has several copies of it for safe keeping.
Now, you may decide to spend some time reading the contents of the
book before you turn it in or - you might just decide to take it back
to town and turn it over to the authorities. To be honest, I would
urge you to read it before you do anything - for your own sake if
nothing else. But, no matter what you decide, I would greatly
appreciate it if you would hand it over to the authorities none the
less. You see, I would much rather them know that that book is out in
the world for others to read. Maybe a little because I'm sure they'll
probably do something quite horrible to me and it may be the only
revenge that I will get, but mostly because I want them to know that
their days are numbered. That everything is numbered. In the four
directions of the compass this book will travel. Unraveling the years
as it passes by.
That's it.
This morning I woke
up. My eyes opened. I looked at the walls of my bedroom and realized
that I had seen them before, in some other life, as massive trees. It
sounds strange, I know, and is quite impossible to explain. I woke up
this morning and felt God slip away from me. And, like the walls of my
bedroom, I realized that I had experienced his departure before as well.
This morning I woke up, went over to my desk, and pulled a clean sheet
of paper out of the drawer. And then I wrote the strangest thing. I
wrote:
My name is Hobbie Miller.
I am fourty seven years old.
And I win. |