Posted:Mon Jan 5, 2009 9:11 AM CST
Circle Jerk Jinx 4: The Snake Consumes Itself
What happened next was a series of bizarre coincidences. The online forum pack began to get picked off by the vril energy. One by one, all who gloated about having a go in the forum 'gang bang' met with one freaky accident more strange than the last. The common denominator was that the mishaps all involved the 4 elements of nature; earth, air, fire, water. One thing that no one could pretend not to notice was that the coroners reports all listed the cause of death as "misadventure".
Some of the Circle Jerk Berserkers of the online forum packs just disappeared. The homeless people who were written off as crazy in their respective neighborhoods ranted and raved about having seen each one of the online forum pack members picked up by animal control officers headed for the local pound, with dates set for termination. Some of the ones who'd managed to assume enough human form to escape being put down in the pound were attacked by packs of feral animals when their DNA morphed yet again to animal form in the night air, mangled body parts found in advanced states of decay.
Some of the Circle Jerk Berserkers who had as of yet escaped the fate of their more unfortunate pack members had arrogantly laughed off notions of "jinxes" and such things as the sole province of the superstitious, the touched, the 'San Francisco pothead liberals' and the insane. That was until each remaining one, no matter how nominal their snarky contribution to the forum gangbangs, began to email the survivors, reporting a collective nightmare of a fearsome female being with a pierced black tongue, wearing a necklace festooned with human skulls and brandishing a scythe who visited each and every one of them during their sleep.
Every last one of the rest of the online Circle Jerkers had the same nightmare; from the bitter, grizzled old Nordic who'd been used and discarded like disposable chopsticks by shrewd yellow women for green cards whom he'd stupidly underestimated as yielding and dumb, to the bespecled former military jock tormented by latent homoerotic desires, to the dumpy, morbidly obese girl who ceaselessly ate away the painful memories of her father's and brothers unwelcome caresses, to the dowager living a life of quiet desperation surrounded by bars and security measures so as to protect herself from the vengeful indigenous Black people who were methodically claiming their homeland back by any means necessary, to the unemployed Texan trucker who foolishly clung to the hope that because he shared the same values, skin color and state as GW Bush that he would somehow be spared of the economic culling, to the middle aged middle American guy who believed that his self worth could be increased by aligning himself with the power of precious gems, to the Southern Californian-by-way-of-South American refugee escaping the blowback of angry peasants fed up with neo-cons and their foreign brand of neo-imperalism, to the wanna-be NASCAR hopeful who still believed in the Cheney gang's American dream even as he'd given up his own provincial dreams of stock car racing for the pragmatism of washing cars in used lots.
One of them however, having been a dilletante of one of the more trendier Eastern disciplines (strictly as a means of seducing naive, religiously repressed and rigidly sheltered, suburban strip mall Shaktis with his drug-addled, enigmatic koans), did not ignore the nightmares of the Circle Jerk Jinx, nor did he write his paranoia off to his manic consumption of methamphetamines.
He printed a copy of each and every last one of the Circle Jerkers' photographs and burned them in an impromptu purification pyre after a night of copious meth smoking and meditation, sobbing silently as he watched the clouds from his glass pipe entwining with the smoke from the photos like the sacred double helix of the twin snakes, endlessly undulating around the staff of life.
THE END
copyright by "sanfranchicky" Jan. 2009