Cornell 666: If Only Red Pilled Rapists Were This Easy to Spot

 

Portal of Evil: Abusers of the 1st Amendment, Victims of Their Own Stupidity

 

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. To paraphrase Iggy Pop, Portal of Evil was "worth a million in stupid prizes". Rest in Piss, losers.

St. Anger for President!

 

Stanzi Potenza vs. Gun Waifu

 

The Devil

Are you The Devil’s Advocate or just The Devil?

Couldn’t even wait for the flames to settle

Got your trident aimed at my throat

Tips are on fire, let’s see a little smoke

You’re not the fun kind of devil like in heavy metal

You’re Adam Cole’s kind: an underwhelming level

Couldn’t scream your way out of a wet paper bag

The only words you know are “whore” and “fag”

 

Tell me about every grievance you’ve got

Don’t bother with the tissues for your tears and snot

Yell me down until your throat goes raw

Because nothing you say is against the law

Neither is carrying a pair of 45’s

Use them on poor people in order to “survive”

Tuck them in your pockets when a CEO

Comes around the corner, says “Cheerio!”

 

I guess being The Devil is a pretty sweet gig

Got enough privilege to own all the libs

Own every politician in a thousand mile radius

Still a mystery when you ask, “Why they hating us?”

Self-awareness is not one of your strong suits

Self-reflection isn’t deep enough to get at the root

Live life on easy mode, low-hanging fruit

You got the real-life version of block and mute

 

You get life advice from a fantasy novel

Two millenniums ago, Jesus was the role model

Just imagine if it was a whole different book

That Moms of Liberty didn’t already cook

Dragons and elves on all of the shelves

Orcs and ogres until the final page is over

Kingdoms modeled after communism

Personal stories about kids with autism

 

But why should we take those at face value

When they can be an excuse to disembowel you

When they can be a reason to take the Red Pill

When they can be weapons, not pulp at the paper mill

The Devil’s Advocate can steal all the stories

Turn a gay bar into a bloodbath so gory

Put the powerful in power and call them Tories

Pose in front of the flag that we call Old Glory

 

What a day to be alive in 2025

Where human rights come with fistfights

Where hospital bills break all of our wills

“Let’s have a conversation across the whole nation”

Shock Value Village

VERSE 1

I got my devil horns for only ninety-nine cents

Going to hang some dildos from the white picket fence

And some fetal dolls from the cherry blossom tree

Your shock is priceless, but I got it for free

Got some flammable bibles, two for the price of one

Got a crucifix thong tucked between my buns

Got a whole bookshelf of the shit I can’t read

When you stab a book banner, a fascist bleeds

 

CHORUS 1

Shock Value Village

Raid, rape, and pillage

Shock Value Village

You’ve got the devil to thank

For not breaking the bank

 

VERSE 2

Ronda Santis has some cloves of garlic

He got them from Wal-Mart, ‘cause he’s banned from Target

He’s got a buckle on his hat and some buckles on his shoes

And some holy water boiling on the teapot brew

That shit doesn’t work, so we all point and laugh

The rumbling in our bellies measures on a seismic graph

The crusade was over before it ever began

He died on the hill of a few pointless bans

 

CHORUS 2

Shock Value Village

Raid, rape, and pillage

Shock Value Village

It won’t cost a fortune

So enjoy your abortion

 

BRIDGE

The youth of tomorrow don’t want to hear your sorrows

The churches are empty, you got nothing to envy

You promised paradise, you forgot to ask nice

Check it out for us, you’re the table sacrifice

 

CHORUS 3

Shock Value Village

Raid, rape, and pillage

Shock Value Village

Dollar store prices

For your favorite vices

Shock Value Village

Raid, rape, and pillage

Shock Value Village

Traditions left behind

For a stack of thin dimes

Theocracy be damned

You lost all your fans

He Hates His Penis

He hates his penis and all that it stands for

He hates his tastes, wants to be a sad bore

If anybody knew what kind of shit he liked

He’d be locked in darkness without his rights

A broken lamp, but there’s no genie inside

No way to get rid of the parts he must hide

Take a razor blade and cut his dingus off

And the sack for which he turns and coughs

The thoughts don’t stop, he wants to drop

Before he gets his ass beat by the keystone cops

Throw the TV out of his window pane

Before a Huggies commercial drives him insane

No where to turn to, no one to talk to

Want to stab him to death? He won’t stop you

He never asked for his brain to be fucked up

Nobody would choose it, it’s just tough luck

Where does he go from his lowest point?

Does he just light up yet another joint?

Numbing his pain with drugs and food

He lived another day, stabilized his mood

He’s a monster without the claws and fangs

A warmonger without the guns and tanks

A devil without living in the hells below

That shit’s on earth, in case you didn’t know

Irresponsible Christian Parody

VERSE 1

What would Jesus do? Pretty much anyone

Who walks on water with God’s favorite son

He gives me strength for an eternal length

He makes me sing for the blessings he brings

My heart flutters every time I hear his name

Suddenly masturbation doesn’t feel like a shame

He brings me the hope and peace I’ve looked for

Ever since I walked into that Christian bookstore

CHORUS

Walk on water with the one I love

Enter paradise in the heavens above

Listen to the music of golden harps

And the beating of my bleeding heart

VERSE 2

Nonbelievers say that we’ll never last

They’ve got too many stones to cast

The only stones I’ve got belong to you

My boss is a carpenter and a practicing Jew

Let’s build Noah’s Ark with our bare hands

Collect every animal across these lands

Show them the love we have between us

Teach them to value the life of a fetus

CHORUS

Walk on water with the one I love

Enter paradise in the heavens above

Listen to the music of golden harps

And the beating of my bleeding heart

VERSE 3

The planet is melting, the oceans are boiling

But only because hell on earth is uncoiling

Let’s show them what we’ve got with prayers

Why should we blame it all on the industrial air?

Your love will set the human race totally free

If that makes us fruitcakes, be our honeybee

Only one way to heaven and it’s not a stairway

It’s to kneel for Jesus while bashing the gays

CHORUS

Walk on water with the one I love

Enter paradise in the heavens above

Listen to the music of golden harps

And the beating of my bleeding heart

FINAL LINE

April Fools, bitches! Hail Satan!

Everyone's a Demon

Everyone’s a demon, everyone’s a sinner

Everybody does things that make others shiver

From the tiniest fuck-ups to the nuclear level

Everybody’s cloned from the same old devil

Skeletons invade our most secretive closets

Saying otherwise is bullshit and I will call it

Putting your heroes on the highest pedestal

Will make your disappointment credible

What should we forgive? What should we punish?

A slap on the wrist or an all-out whodunit?

Where should society draw the fucking line?

What would they consider the ultimate crime?

It’s a constant game of limbo, how low will we go?

When crossing the threshold, how will we know?

Everyone’s a demon, everyone’s a mistake

Everyone’s a devil, for Jesus Christ’s sake

Everybody fucks up, some more than others

Few will swear on the graves of their mothers

That they’ve changed into a brand new person

Yet they still live with their crippling curses

To forgive or fuck? That is our only question

Is the answer even worth a minimal mention?

Go ahead and behave how you want to behave

In the end, everybody sleeps in the grave

Everyone’s a demon on their way to hell

I don’t give a shit in case you couldn’t tell

It's Only Offensive When I Do It

It’s only offensive when I have a crush

I’m the only one with a reverse Midas touch

It’s only offensive when I crack a joke

It’s only funny when my dreams go up in smoke

It’s only offensive when I seek out friends

Rejection and turmoil never seem to end

It’s only offensive when I write my lines

I’m the only one worthy of a hundred dollar fine

Nothing about my lonely life is ordinary

The blood on my hands is not sanitary

I don’t look like you, I don’t talk like you

I’m the only one with a shit-load to prove

It’s only offensive when I take a stand

My painful screams echo across the land

It doesn’t matter anyways, nobody hears me

Everybody in this world fucking fears me

I’m a walking weapon of mass destruction

Who’s in desperate need of liposuction

Never once mastered the art of seduction

Never once needed a proper introduction

I sold my soul to the devil, the underworld level

My favorite escape is hard rock and heavy metal

I don’t need to contribute to your society

I’ll keep building my dreams ever so quietly

It’s only offensive when I’m the one who does it

So offensive it brings the world to destruction

Socially awkward is the name of my game

Everything else would be too fucking tame

You Don't Scare Me

CHORUS

I’m naked and fearless!

Undisputed and peerless!

You don’t scare me!

You don’t scare me!

VERSE 1

Your Hocus Pocus and necromancy

Your bag of tricks so fucking fancy

Your head games and creepy songs

Were never meant to last so long

Are you some kind of mythical god?

To me you’re just a flashy fraud

Are you gigantic in everyone’s eyes?

Those on their backs are the same size

CHORUS

I’m naked and fearless!

Undisputed and peerless!

You don’t scare me!

You don’t scare me!

VERSE 2

Make a move or get out of my way

I’ve got better things to do today

Than shake and quiver in front of you

Than to cry pointless tears of ocean blue

I’ve got mountains to climb, hills to conquer

For you I will never have to defend my honor

You’re not the devil or the boogeyman

Just a reality TV diva, a Snookie fan

BRIDGE

Jump into the lake of fire

Swim some laps until I tire

Cannonballs in the waterfalls

Of lava, ashes, and sinful passion

EXTENDED CHORUS

I’m naked and fearless!

Undisputed and peerless!

You don’t scare me!

You don’t scare me!

Walk like a giant, talk like a king

When everyone else can only scream

You can’t kill me!

You can’t control me!

You don’t scare me!

You don’t scare me!

Rock and Roll Will Never Die

VERSE 1

Rock and roll will never die

No sense in spreading that lie

Stop blaming my generation

For your downward destination

Any youngster can pick up an axe

Shred that shit and kick some ass

We’ve come to invoke the spirit

You’ve got no choice but to hear it

CHORUS

Rock is immortal!

Open hell’s portal!

Rock never died!

Join the dark side!

VERSE 2

I don’t judge my fellow human

By his preference of music

Only by his obnoxious hubris

Only by his points so stupid

Don’t thumb your nose at me

For the things that I believe

For the music I love so much

The bands with the Midas touch

CHORUS

Rock is immortal!

Open hell’s portal!

Rock never died!

Join the dark side!

VERSE 3

Call it devil’s music if you choose

This fiery debate is yours to lose

Thump your bible, spread the libel

Crashing and burning is your style

Blast your bullshit through a bullhorn

You’ll never settle this age old score

Guitars and drums are here to stay

Even on the holiest of sunny Sundays

EXTENDED CHORUS

Rock is immortal!

Open hell’s portal!

Rock never died!

Join the dark side!

Rock is my savior!

For my darkest anger!

Rock is my heaven!

Rock is my weapon!

Holy Mountains

VERSE 1

Bones and skulls scattered everywhere

Rotten flesh stinking up the fucking air

Is it a battlefield or cemetery grounds?

It’s a mass grave underneath the mounds

Torture and war have happened here

You can still hear the screams of fear

The gods above are having cold beers

As another mortal’s gutted with a spear

CHORUS 1

Holy mountains! Bloody fountains!

Shit-covered river will make you shiver!

Holy mountains! Come take a pounding!

Open wide as they skin off your hide!

Holy mountains! Holy mountains!

Holy mountains! Holy mountains!

VERSE 2

Those who dare make it out alive

Can’t shake the trauma even if they try

Nightmares as bloody as the real thing

Every deep gash, every whipping sting

Your sanity belongs on the holy grounds

Mind filled with schizophrenic sounds

Such sweet music to soothe you at night

The noose on your neck gets a little tight

CHORUS 1

Holy mountains! Bloody fountains!

Shit-covered river will make you shiver!

Holy mountains! Come take a pounding!

Open wide as they skin off your hide!

Holy mountains! Holy mountains!

Holy mountains! Holy mountains!

BRIDGE

Burn them down with a sadistic frown?

Laughable humor from the crazy clown

A permanent landmark of suffering and pain

A permanent reminder of pants-pissing shame

CHORUS 2

Holy mountains! Holy fucking shit!

Do cannonballs in the hellfire pit!

Holy mountains! Good god almighty!

Dance with the devil underneath lightning!

Holy mountains! Holy mountains!

Holy motherfucking mountains, bitch!

UGH!

Laughing Devil

CHORUS

He sits there and laughs all day

He sits there and laughs all day

He reminds you of the devil anyway

‘Cause he sits there and laughs all day

VERSE 1

Tickling in his brain until he goes insane

Until his ribs are in tremendous pain

What the fuck is going on in his mind?

Is this the answer you really want to find?

Torture and violence, the comedy of choice

Death jokes will unleash the chuckling noise

The hyena demon laughs about his semen

He plants the seeds just in time for the season

CHORUS

He sits there and laughs all day

He sits there and laughs all day

He reminds you of the devil anyway

‘Cause he sits there and laughs all day

VERSE 2

Carlin has nothing on the demons from hell

Maher has nothing on the jokes they tell

Noah never went to the darkest places

Never put slasher smiles on their faces

This kind of humor should never be public

But there’s always one who says, “Fuck it!”

He sits there and laughs all fucking day

There’s something funny about unholy decay

BRIDGE

Laugh like Nelson from The Simpsons

Like a coyote hunting down a chicken

Like a serial killer in an erotic thriller

A cartel gangster carving up a prankster

EXTENDED CHORUS

He sits there and laughs all day

He sits there and laughs all day

He reminds you of the devil anyway

‘Cause he sits there and laughs all day

Lock his ass up in the darkest corner

Far beyond this nation’s borders

Far beyond this solar system

Only Dahmer has ever missed him

Vampire Empire

Michael Finn could feel his flesh getting hotter with every passing second. All he wanted was some goddamn shelter from the sunlight. He dashed through the forest at a frenetic pace, jumping over logs and slashing thick foliage out of his way with his razor-sharp claws. A small cave, a hollow log, some dense trees, any one of those things would have been nice to hide out in until daylight passed. His mind raced as fast as his powerful legs, so much so that he almost passed by his one shot at shelter.

He couldn’t see it well in the dim light, but it was a stone building with large double doors and stained glass windows. Without thinking clearly, Michael burst through the double doors with his shoulder and shut them behind him. In the darkness of the church, he was safe. He knelt down and breathed huge sighs of relief while allowing the sweat on his skin to dry up. He stripped off his black leather jacket and laid back first against the cold stones floor. It felt so good against his pale skin. Even his sweaty hair felt like heaven against the cool stones.

Several flames burst to life and startled Michael enough to leap to his feet in a single bound. Those flames were merely there to light the torches mounted on the side walls. Not only did those torches reveal the wooden pews on either side, but also the devilish and demonic artwork in the stained glass windows. There were ogres chewing off the heads of goats, devils sodomizing angels with their tridents, and hooded snakes devouring the insides of diseased rats, to name a few.

“Where the hell am I?” asked Michael as he looked around with a mixture of confusion and fear.

“That depends on what you’re looking for, my friend,” said a shadowy figure at the podium. He slowly ventured into the light and revealed himself to be a horseshoe-pattern and pony-tail haired priest in black and red robes. He sported a creepy grin and kept his fingers together in a triangle shape. “Welcome to the Church of Satan. My name is Reverend Paul Singer. Technically, the sermon doesn’t start for another hour, but you’re welcome to stay here nonetheless.”

“Um…thanks?” said Michael while shrugging his shoulders.

Paul’s smile widened enough to show his demented dental work as she slowly made his way toward Michael and placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Those are some lovely fangs, my friend,” the devil worshiper said. “I’d kill for a set of those. You must be a creature of the night. Your kind is always welcome in my house of worship.”

“Uh, listen, I’ve got to get going now…”

“Nonsense! Stay with me for a few hours! We can talk all about the dark magic that surrounds us all. We can talk about your new role in the Church of Satan. Vampires are especially important to our cause,” said Paul. He wrapped his arm around Michael’s shoulder and led the shaking nerve-wreck to the darker end of the church.

The vampire reluctantly sat down at the front-most pew and gazed around at the artwork in the stained glass windows one last time. “Lovely place you’ve got here, Reverend,” he said both sarcastically and fearfully.

“Thank you for the kind words. This church has been in my family for many generations. I’m surprised it’s holding up as well as it is,” said Paul. He sat down next to Michael with a bottle of red wine in his hands. The demonic priest wrapped his arm around the vampire once more and took a gigantic swig from the bottle. “Mmmm, that’s good shit!”

Reverend Singer looked almost lovingly into Michael Finn’s eyes, making the vampire quiver even harder. Paul said, “It’s no accident that you’ve decided to use my humble church as a place to stay away from the sunlight. Satan brought you into my arms, so I’m going to make sure you’re safe today. But there’s only one thing I ask of you.” Paul leaned closer to Michael and Michael leaned backwards. “Make me into one of your own. I wish to be a creature of the night as well. With that kind of power, I can have total influence over the world. Satan’s way is the only way. What better way to prove my prophecy than with a good set of vampire fangs?”

Michael could feel that evil grin on Paul’s face and it was ripping at his soul like a pack of hellhounds on a wounded angel. The vampire brushed his arms off and jumped away from him. “Listen, man,” he said. “Aside from the fact that you’re creeping me the fuck out right now, I really can’t help you become a vampire. There’s nothing glorious about being one of us. Hiding from sunlight, constantly killing people for fresh blood, staying young while all of your friends get old and die? You’re not going to have influence over your congregation. You’re going to be lonely, just like me. Is that what you really want?”

Paul sighed, stood up, and said, “I suppose not. Maybe there’s something about my teachings that I overlooked. Maybe that’s the answer I needed to hear the most. I was so greedy for power that I…” The Reverend kissed Michael on the mouth and spit a poisonous tablet down his throat in the process.

Aside from reaching the height of his fear, Michael clutched his throat and coughed incessantly. Paul pulled out a hammer and silver stake from his robes and nailed both of the vampire’s hands to the wooden pew. Blood flowed from his hands like a raging river. The combination of coughing and screaming brought up red bile from Michael’s throat as he was now spitting chunks on the floor. Once he was done gurgling his life juices, he breathed in a raspy tone and looked down on the stone floor, purposefully avoiding eye contact with his creepy captor.

Paul grabbed Michael by the hair and lifted his head up while glaring at him with the most sinister, angry smile. With gritted teeth, he said, “Now you listen, you little shit! I offered you a place to stay out of the sunlight, so you’re going to give me payment whether you want to or not! What shall I do to you next, little boy?! Shall I sacrifice you?! Shall I throw you out into the sunlight?! Or maybe…”

Paul retried a ball gag from his robes and shoved it in Michael’s mouth. The vampire let out a muffled cry as the priest tightly strapped the sex toy around his head. Michael’s weakness from the poison and bloody pain from his nailed hands left him in a doubled over position over the pew. The sinister minister’s smile was even wider and creepier than before with his jaw fully clamped.

Still with gritted teeth, he said, “You’re going to give me your vampire powers whether you want to or not!” Paul reached around for Michael’s belt and unloosened it so that he could pull his pants down and expose his posterior. Paul then clutched at his own robe and ripped it in half to reveal a hairy, muscled body underneath only covered by leopard print underwear. “I’m going to enjoy every minute of your sweet little ass!”

With that much fear built up in his system, Michael’s short burst of adrenaline overrode the poison in his blood as he yanked on his hands to try and free them. The instant Paul put his hands on the vampire’s butt, Mr. Finn threw a back kick and nailed the priest in his testicles. Paul let out a screech of pain and doubled over before plopping to the stone ground below.

Michael used his remaining adrenaline to tug at his hands once again. The more he struggled, the more he bled. He even fought back the urge to vomit with the orange ball in his mouth. He couldn’t keep it down any longer. With one powerful rip, he pulled his hands free from the silver stake and chewed through the ball with his powerful fangs. It was at that moment that the poisonous vomit flowed from his mouth and the excessive blood drooled from his broken hands.

Michael Finn exhaustedly dropped to the floor, the coldness felt good on his sweaty, bloody skin. This place would have made an excellent hotel if it didn’t have a creep running it.

Speak of the devil, pun definitely intended, Paul grabbed the limp vampire by the hair and pulled him up once again. There was no smile this time, only an angry burst of threatening words. “I am sick and fucking tired of your rebellious shit! I should sodomize you on the altar right now! I should crucify you out on the front lawn for all of my worshipers to see! I should set you on fire with these torches! I should…”

Michael used his last burst of energy to bite into Paul’s wrist and drink his blood like a keg of beer. He paid no mind to the Reverend’s agonizing wails. Instead the vampire drank like a desert traveler dying of thirst. The cool coppery blood felt good on his aching throat. His stomach was soothed from the excessive vomiting. His hands began to heal until their wounds were closed over. The orgasmic dinner was over quicker than it started, so both Michael and Paul plopped on the cold stone floor unconscious.

After feeling refreshed from this thirty minute power nap, Paul began to open his bloodshot eyes. His pain was soothed. His wrist wound had healed over. He even pressed his thumb against his teeth to see if he had vampire fangs. They were so sharp that they drew a tiny drop of blood from his thumb.

Paul was laughing like a lunatic as he slowly rose to his feet. He held his hands out Jesus-style and spun around in happiness. He dropped to his knees, still laughing, still wide-eyed, and still grinning like a monster. “It finally happened! Satan will be so proud of me when he sees my new powers! I shall live forever in your grace, fiery one!”

“You want fire? You got it!” said a familiar voice. The shadowy figure opened the front door and stood behind it to protect himself from the glaring sunlight. Paul yelled, “No!” in classic cinematic fashion as the sunlight set him ablaze and reduced his body to a crispy black corpse. He was screaming, shaking, and spinning around during his execution. He wanted to join Satan in hell and now he had his wish.

The door was slammed shut and the church was dark once again. The instigator, Michael Finn, stood over the burned carcass and said, “I told you being a vampire sucked. Church has been cancelled, you sick prick!”

Wounded Angel

VERSE 1

How many times have you been hurt?

How many blood stains are on your shirt?

How many times have you been lied to?

If I was in your shoes, I’d want to cry too

Instead of reaching for the Promised Land

You gathered pills in the palm of your hand

You swallowed them all with a bottle of booze

You’ve got nothing left, what is there to lose?

CHORUS

Wounded angel! Wounded angel!

Say something if you are able!

Burning devil! Burning devil!

You’ve fallen to such a low level!

VERSE 2

We all have a past full of pain and sorrow

We all somehow look forward to tomorrow

What happened to the muscles in your body?

Instead of growing from this, you’re rotting

We all like to travel to those darkest places

Sooner or later, you’ll see the demons’ faces

The same demons you were trying to run from

Instead of escaping, you’ve gone and fucked up

CHORUS

Wounded angel! Wounded angel!

Say something if you are able!

Burning devil! Burning devil!

You’ve fallen to such a low level!

VERSE 3

I don’t blame you for the pain you feel

I blame you for the damage you deal

We tried so hard for you and your future

But nobody’s winning, we all are losers

I can only do so much for you, my friend

Negativity’s bringing our story to an end

All you had do was call out for help

Instead you took a nosedive to hardcore hell

EXTENDED CHORUS

Wounded angel! Wounded angel!

Say something if you are able!

Burning devil! Burning devil!

You’ve fallen to such a low level!

Everybody’s hurting so badly now!

Will things get better? We don’t know how!

You’ve taken more than you’ve ever given!

All you had to do from the start was listen!

HOOK

Into the box with the permanent locks

Into the dirt where it forever will hurt

Past the gates where you sealed your fate

And now here comes the cataclysm of hate

"Divine Intervention" by Edward Davies

BOOK TITLE: Divine Intervention
AUTHOR: Edward Davies
YEAR: 2011
GENRE: Fiction
SUBGENRE: Supernatural Comedy
GRADE: Mixed


Jimmy Stewart Moon is a lovable loser with a low-paying job, a place to live at his parents’ house, and too much free time on his hands. When eating potato chips and picking his nose isn’t enough to entertain him, Jimmy takes out his binoculars and spies on his sexy neighbor Vanessa, who’s doing exercises in her underwear. Vanessa catches Jimmy in the act and the perverted voyeur falls out of the window and hits the ground hard. Upon waking up, he meets two angels named Pixie and Frank whose only way of getting back into heaven is to help Jimmy secure a romantic relationship with Vanessa, which is a hard sell considering he just got caught spying on her.

In many ways, this self-published effort reminds me of a book by WWE superstar Dolph Ziggler’s brother Ryan Nemeth called “I Can Make Out with Any Girl Here”. The protagonists in both stories are trying to get laid and they do some silly things along the path of their goals. The funniest part of this story in my opinion is when Jimmy dresses up like an 80’s punk to try and impress Vanessa, but instead looks like a homeless drug addict. Not off to a good start, Mr. Moon! It gets sillier from there. With the English backdrop, this book also reminds me of Monty Python, Danger Mouse, and John Oliver’s show rolled up into one chaotic comedy while dropping a bucket full of LSD. This story is quite possibly the weirdest thing I’ve ever read, but I mean that in the most loving way.

Despite the weirdness of it all, the further you get into this book, the more it begins to read like a legitimate plot instead of just a hodgepodge of comedic antics. We have an imperfect protagonist in Jimmy Stewart Moon. We have a low point near the end. We have a believable climax. And most importantly, we have an ending that nobody would have seen coming for miles, yet that too is believable. I will say though that it takes a great deal of patience to get through the first few pages. Upon first glance, I thought it was going to be TOO weird for my tastes, but my patience paid off and I read an entertaining story.

But just like with any mixed review, there are some complaints that need to be addressed. Although they are few and far between, this book does have its fair share of grammatical errors, misspellings, and other mistakes that no beta reader would ever let slide. But I personally will let this slide because the mistakes don’t corrupt the entire story. It was still enjoyable, but having a beta reader sweep through the errors would be a good call on Mr. Davies’ part.

The only other complaint I need to address is the liberal use of pop culture references. Normally when using these references, there should also be a description of what that reference looks like. For example, if someone looks like Jessica Rabbit, I expect that author to describe her as having long red hair, a seductive face, and a red cocktail dress. While some people have an idea of what the celebrity, TV show, or movie is like already, not everybody fits that bill. It would be like talking to a wrestling fan born in the 2000’s and watching him scratch his head at the mention of Mr. Perfect. It doesn’t even have to be a generational barrier; it could just be someone who has never seen the medium before.

I’m giving this story a mixed grade and not a failing one, because the positives heavily outweigh the negatives. It’s a short book and it reads quickly, so if you don’t have the patience to blow through such a story, I don’t know what to tell you. I blew through it and I enjoyed it every step of the way. Not bad for an author who wrote this story at a young age!

"She Is My Sin" by Nightwish

Valley of the Damned is currently being developed as the second act of my dark fantasy novel Fireball Nightmare. I’ve smothered the members of Nightwish with love like an obsessive fan boy. But this is 2014. All of this dark fantasy lust had to come from somewhere. That somewhere was 2002. It was summertime and my schizophrenia was just starting to develop. In order to keep my creative soul alive underneath the rubble caused by head voices, I had two things to keep me company: Valley of the Damned in RPG form and “She Is My Sin”, my very first Nightwish song.

The year 2002 was one where I was still an active patriot at Play By Web dot com, the message board RPG website I spoke of several posts earlier. During those days, I was developing my creativity by inventing new role-playing game systems. They were simple, yet effective. I had a dystopian war RPG called Cutthroat, a fantasy-western game called Lost in a Lost World, and then there was my pride and joy, the apocalyptic dark fantasy RPG known as Valley of the Damned.

The premise of the latter was basic at best: the devil turned the world into a fiery hellhole and instead of working together to beautify the earth, the citizens would rather exploit each other. Ronald Reagan always said it would take an alien invasion for the world to get along. But what about a diabolical invasion?

My older brother James introduced me to Nightwish’s “She Is My Sin” around the time I was developing Valley of the Damned. It was a heavy metal song with an opera chick singing, just like any other Nightwish song. A dark fantasy RPG and a heavy metal opera song: the marriage of these two mystic forces was too obvious to ignore.

I could see it all now: a warrior covered in a black cloak and hood wielding a fiery sword enters the battlefield with “She Is My Sin” playing in the background. Several monsters from vampires to succubae to the ugliest of orcs surround this warrior with the intent to devour him. So what does the mysterious warrior do? With a few spins of his fiery blade, he turns the battlefield into the same hell the devil has created from the entire world. The monsters lay bloody, broken, and bruised while the cloaked warrior continues his quest. He still hears Tarja’s voice singing to him, which probably sounded nicer than my schizophrenic voices sounded to me.

Valley of the Damned and Nightwish: a match made in heaven. But you have to remember that this was 2002 and I was still going to high school, which means there were several threats to my psychological health, all of which derailed my zeal for a Valley of the Damned movie idea. Granted, I wasn’t going to WF West anymore.

Instead I went to Central Kitsap High School, which was a better school, but not a great school. How great could they be if they hire a senior social studies teacher with a mean streak a mile wide? Where’s the greatness in having to deal with a bully who actually knows how to fight? As for the friends I’ve made, what’s so great about being too shy to look them up after graduation, let alone ask one of them to the prom? What about home life? Is there any joy in having a step-father who was verbally abusive and physically imposing?

While these things alone didn’t cause my schizophrenia, they made it worse. When my schizophrenia was at its worst, I had so much trouble concentrating I swore I was getting stupider with the passing days. I didn’t want to be stupid anymore. I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t sign up to be so mentally crippled that I completely forgot about Valley of the Damned and Nightwish. That’s right. It just fucking slipped my mind.

But that was 2002 through 2005. Since then, my former step-dad Art has moved out of the house and a new and improved step-dad named Dale entered my life. Yes, folks, my mom got a HUGE upgrade. Over the years, my mental health has gotten better dramatically. I rediscovered Nightwish in 2006 and fell in love with Tarja Turunen all over again, both musically and romantically (don’t tell her husband I said that).

As for Valley of the Damned, while I don’t role-play much anymore, I do a lot of creative writing in its place. Fireball Nightmare is the new home for Valley of the Damned. So far, so good. It took a long time for everything to click back into place, but it’s all there once again. It’s like a psychological family reunion.

And to think, it all started with “She Is My Sin” from the Wishmaster album. Yes, Tarja, you have been my sin for over a decade now. Anette and Floor, while the two of you haven’t been in my life for nearly as long, you ladies are my sin as well. Nightwish and I will never be separated or divorced ever again. They will continue to excite my imagination and I will continue to recommend them to any of my metal-loving friends.

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“My bath toys were a radio and a toaster.”

-Joan Rivers (rest in peace)-

"Preacher, Vol. 1 through 3" by Garth Ennis

Just because the title of this graphic novel series is “Preacher”, doesn’t mean you should expect some Mickey Mouse, Veggie Tales, McGee bullshit. Yes, the main character, Jesse Custer’s, occupation is a minister, but what actually occupies his time is trying to fight off demons and angels left and right. How does he do it? With the help of a trigger-happy girlfriend named Tulip and a raunchy Irish vampire named Cassidy. Oh, and Jesse also has a powerful stare that forces its victims to do whatever the fuck he wants. If Jesse Custer wants you to go fuck yourself, that’s exactly what you’ll do. If he wants you to count the grains of sand on the beach, then be prepared for a long ass night. You can see every piece of hardcore, godless, offensive action in the first three graphic novels of the Preacher series. Each of them have blood, guts, broken bones, monstrous sex scenes, and dialogue that no bar of soap on the tongue can cure. No absence of malice in any of the first three editions. Having said that, the most disturbing of the three so far is the second one where Jesse has to survive being tortured and twisted by his devilish and bitchy grandmother. The horror she put Jesse through as a child and teenager is unspeakable, the most disgusting treatment being locking him in an underwater coffin for what seems like an eternity as punishment for going against the word of God. Throughout the entire second edition, you keep hoping and praying (no pun intended) that the grandmother gets her comeuppance. The further you read, the angrier you get at her and her cohorts. But before you punch a hole through the comic book, you should feel some sort of relief that there’s a special place in hell for people like her. You think you have fire coursing through your veins? Try living in hell for as long as the grandmother will. Constant torture and agony for a longer time than all of Jesse Custer’s underwater coffin punishments put together. This is the kind of thing you can expect from every episode of Preacher: badass action, transgression horror, and nightmares for many days to come. For all of you who say that comic books are for kids, I certainly hope you’re not talking about the Preacher series. Your kids would need so much therapy that even Bill Gates couldn’t afford to pay for it all.

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“When I hear that trumpet sound, I’m gonna rise right out of the ground. Ain’t no grave can hold my body down.”

-Johnny Cash singing “Ain’t No Grave”-