Once lived a black man black as the darkest night. But came the day by the Lord permitted and commanded. Down went the Sun, because someone gave it with a galactic fist on the head. And came the End of the World. When it drew near, many fell from its edge into the bottomless river of fire, but the black man carried his two halves out of that hell and vanished in the darkness without the Sun, like a drop fallen into water. Then God pondered: “Everything is in my will. Earthquakes and innocent little babes screaming from pain, volcanoes and the smell of singeing human-meat, floods and heaps of the drowned, parents sacrificing their children in the name of my love. I create and I kill. I am everything and I know everything. Before me there was nothing, for everything began from me. Hm, that serpent in Paradise was, evidently, my not-yet-ripened dick. I am so good and merciful, and let him be condemned to eternal torments who will reject my love and try to escape from it.” And already He had swung to squash the whole galaxy, but faith in goodness darkened the Lord’s mind at the last moment. He could not in one stroke and in such a way rip apart the escaped black man’s arse. God understood that if because of some black man He were to lay upon the whole galaxy His schlong of unutterable dimensions, billions of the Universe’s arses would burst, whose owners for centuries, with relish, had with their tongues polished the heavenly arse-hole. Such a pleasure the creator of the universe did not want to give up, and to mould a new host of bootlickers, again sticking his hands into dirty clay, he had no wish.

And God sent Satan to search for the black man. But Satan was black, like the black man himself. When they would meet one another, they would think that it was they themselves and would go on their way further. While the Sun was picking up the remains of its brains on the outskirts of a distant orbit, Satan’s searches on Earth were like a blind man’s attempt to find a black man in the dark. Then Satan remembered one story.

Once, to the Son of God, when that one was preaching to his sectarians, there came up an old blind beggar and said:

— Lord, grant me a moment of light at least before death.

Jesus waved his hand or perhaps a magic wand and there occurred a miracle miraculous. In the unreasoning beggar’s skull there grew two brand-new eyes. As soon as light filled his eyes, the beggar beheld in the Son of God's hand a curved knife and heard prophetic words:

— Disciples, the Lord sends us two big pearls of caviar to go with the beer. And for you, stinking bum, the moment of light has passed, it is time to die.

For the old man, not even managing to gather his wits, there disappeared the “stereo”, and then also the “mono” picture. After that darkened also his very consciousness, for he beheld the death prophesied to his own self.

The story about the enlightening led the evil one onto a thought. He came to God and says:

— May you get yourself impaled on a bell-tower, you old farter. You cracked the Sun’s bucket, it is dark as in an arse. I cannot find the black-arse. Could you perhaps lighten him up?

God thought that the idea was a good one, and said:

— Let the black man become white, like Snow White in the raiment of her wedding day, so that he may be seen in the darkness of hell.

And the black man became white, like a goddess of virginity. He was astonished at the transformation unexpected and hurried to the Gates of Heaven to clear up such wonders unseen. Wiping with his passport Peter’s peepers, he said:

— Here, look! I be a black man sweaty, but in God’s presence white, like an angel, and pure as a virgin’s innocence. Let me into Heaven. I need to talk with your master.

Then Peter, who had not seen the modern world, fell to pondering: “What wonders unseen — a black man white?!” and he reckoned that God’s hand had personally given this matter a pull. So, fearing to get on the head with some lightning bolt, without long consideration, he opened the Heavenly gates.

Having seen in his garden a black man, God exclaimed:

— Fuck my arse! Let the devils pull me out, where did this toad come from?!

Came running then nine hosts of devils, bitches, teletubbies and other stench, and began to pull God out, and to fulfil His commandment. They pulled, they pulled, they did not pull out. The black man too leapt to pull. But God fiercely resisted, like some Koschei the Deathless. Then the rats fell to gnawing the Lord’s left ball. The burst heavenly bollock somewhat disconcerted the Ruler of the universe, but already after a moment half the gnawers had been strangled, coiled about one after another like a dragon nine-headed does frogs — by God’s ripened dick. Having seen that there was an occasion to feast, to the scene of the event there came tearing two bald cats of the Egyptian pharaohs and began to devour the strangled rats and those stupefied by the ambrosia that had flowed out of God’s ball. Having fortified themselves to satiety and seeing that matters were moving too slowly, the cats too leapt to pull. They leapt about, they made merry until morning. Then, having learned from the rats, the devils began to gnaw God’s second nut. When the bank of Holy sperm was finally devoured, God’s resistance began visibly to fade. Peter, seeing the approaching end of his Master, seized with fury, with a scythe fell to cutting up the devils. For sometimes at nights he stood in for the Grim Reaper and was renowned as a butcher of children and women. But his scythe quickly went blunt against horns with hooves, and the devils, having piled on, skewered the gatekeeper onto Satan’s horn. Adam, working as an exhibitionist of the Gardens of Paradise, still tried to help God, but the black man, having grabbed him, impaled him beside Peter, for in the new-revolutionary hierarchy of Paradise dicks the right of the largest dick after God belonged exclusively to the black man. God having croaked, the cats began to munch the last leavings of the Almighty, for such Whiskas they had not yet eaten. There already were running about in panic, having done nothing during the battle but pray for the fighting Ruler of the Universe — the priests. Having pulled out their spoons, they tried to assemble, from the remains of the burst nut, the Lord’s image, with crazed eyes looking at the approaching non-being.

And it was then that there came the true End of the World, and not the end of the world as an edge.

The Bible keeps silent about the real truth of how Jesus Christ “walked on water”. I shall fill this gap with the painstakingly hidden Vatican archives, which by good people were swiped from the black-skirts straight from under their nose, right after they stupefied the library guard with chloroform-soaked nun’s knickers, dropped beside his workplace. Recorded in the archives is the testimony of a fisherman who saw the events. Later, as the chronicles relate, for his long tongue the fish murderer went blind. Although witnesses recounted that this happened after a nocturnal visit of Christ with his gang, and that the fisherman’s eyes went dark not in a miraculous manner, but with the help of a dung-covered pitchfork, this does not in the least diminish the personality of Christ as a miracle-worker.

Once Jesus was strolling along the shore and just at that moment there flew past Superman (auth. note: well, if God exists, then Superman exists too). So there, he saw Jesus loafing about to himself. And he had heard that that known-to-all benchmark of God’s sexual incontinence and adultery was a frightful miracle-worker. The arse-holes of the widest arses he would zip shut, with a single noodle crowds he would feed. Descended and spoke Superman, hoping without difficulty to darken the hairy weakling’s under-eyes by a few halftones:

— Let us clash like man against man! Or man against a broad!? Because, I see, on you the hair is long like on some woman.

To which Jesus answered:

— You, tight-wrapped cock red-and-blue, I will squash you with strength Divine, like Thunder a louse on the anvil of Prometheus with the hammer of Thor.

And so they did clash. They tumbled head over heels three days and nights, only to piss and to shit for a short while into the bushes going off. Sometimes, not wanting to lose — as it seemed to them themselves — some sort of decisive wrestling pose, clasped together they shat straight into their clothes. Jesus in this had an obvious advantage, since he went about not only in a “skirt”, but also without underwear. Finally, Superman managed with one hand to grab Jesus by the hair, and with the other, as if with steel pliers, to seize him by the balls (auth. note: on the Son of God, as on all mortal people, those also were). And how he squeezed them, Jesus even shrieked:

— Lord!!!

God, as in all times, being a “caring” father, more gladly liked to incite and observe his children’s mutual brawls and torments than to smooth over disagreements. He did not help his offspring when they were nailing him to the plus sign, nor did he think to help in the conflict with Superman. So he poked out of heaven and angrily roared:

— What are you bawling about here, bastard?! It is not I who am holding your balls. You have been rolling about embracing like two faggots for three days already, so one another’s names then moan! — And he vanished in the clouds, having hurried off to inseminate the next “mary” in Zanzibar. Authoritative scholars of religion consider that the Lord decided then and there to nail his son upon the cross in the past (auth. note: time and its sequence do not apply to God). He did not forgive that the one had cocked up the authority of the heavenly family, to some Superman having lost.

Jesus, understanding that his 2 still unborn chicks were already counted, wanting to surrender, patted Superman across the backside (auth. note: a pat with the palm across the opponent is used in combat sports as a sign to surrender). Superman threw up all over himself from that, as if 5 tons of kryptonite he had swallowed. He thought that, on account of strength greater displayed, Jesus was courting him like some broad courts a man and was initiating knowing in the sense Biblical. Just as in a girl the March-heat rises to climb onto a beefy, short-shaven wardrobe, which before her eyes, with one blow of the fist, three kiosks that had not paid the tribute, together with their women cashiers, to the ground levelled. Until then Superman had grappled with no one and did not know the rules. Equals to him there were none, and all who displeased him he sliced with lasers from his eyes, like a farmer the rye with his scythe mowed.

Choking in his own vomit Superman sprang back and flew off. And Jesus afterwards harnessed his disciples and ordered them to race along the shore with a long rope; his crushed balls, for a week, along the water’s surface on a billet of firewood skating about, he cooled. Those ones swelled up so that they threatened to explode, which did not accord with the coming plans and was more terrible than the most terrible Chernobyl. For a holy ball’s explosion — is no joke. The Divine line can easily fertilize all living creatures by immaculate conception. And should the concentrated heavenly seed spread into the atmosphere, the consequences would have massively affected the very farthest far-distances. From the fertilizing ray not even the deepest caves with the thickest lead walls would save. All around there walked mountains of old and young unfertilized maidens. To pay them alimony, on account of his own wretched situation and his begging, the Messiah had neither the desire nor the possibilities. Seeing Jesus nimbly skating about along the water’s surface, people said that he was as if walking on water. And so was born the legend. They did not think that those who would live after them would be abundantly full of the credulous, determined to believe in everything that contradicts sound reason, that someone can walk on water.

Although the Almighty was angry at Jesus for his loss to Superman, He Himself was once overcome by Jacob (Genesis 32:24-30). Of course, this episode is recorded only in the Bible and did not make it into the Vatican book of records, because Jacob was not gay and did not seal his victory with the official ritual of humiliation, as established by the acts of the Vatican’s all-male institution.

The boy looked at the green light that had just come on. As he put his foot forward, he watched a little girl overtake him, skipping and humming some cheerful children’s song, with a light-blue balloon in her hand. Her carefully braided pigtails swung playfully in the air, and on them, like the first butterflies of spring, colourful little ribbons fluttered. In the air hung the wonderful, fresh scent of blossoming flowers and bright green grass. Suddenly, a menacing shadow leapt out from the left. Behind it, chasing its own dark phantom, howling and roaring, stuffed to bursting with human meat, a yellow wirescraper whizzed past. There was a gruesome crash, and, like Saint Mother Teresa, selflessly splashing someone else’s anatomy about, after a second crash, into a pole, the wirescraper stopped. The face and clothes of the boy, who had been walking behind the girl, were generously drenched by a wave of warm humanity (i.e. human meat). God was a poor surgeon and once again operated with a mincer and an axe.

– Oh God! – The little witness of the incident, spattered with chunks of meat, froze in horror and bent down to look at the girl’s remains.

“Bitch!” thought the drunk wirescraper driver, rubbing two big bumps. One on the back of his head, from when the wirescraper, crushing the girl, bounced upwards, and the other on his forehead, from when a pole sprang up out of nowhere.

“Damned driver! We’ll be late for work again.” So buzzed in their minds, all over the wirescraper, like busy little bees, the passengers who had just managed a little flight.

For a moment, time in the universe stopped...

Angels in the clouds played harps and sang Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World”. With tears in His eyes, God kept asking Himself:

“Will people understand that I do all this out of love?”
“Will they understand that this is a test of the strength of their love for Me?”
“Will they realise that I am not a sadist, it’s just that My ways are unknown?”
“Does Luis Alberto love María Dickancita?”

Sensing that something had happened that was not according to His carefully prepared Divine plan, the Almighty came to His senses and turned His attention to the accident and to the witness who had shouted His name. “Think you’re very clever? So little, and already taking My name in vain. If that girl hadn’t jumped out, the problem with you would already be solved. Never mind, I’ll fix that right away...” Seized by the holy duty to teach a lesson to the little wretch who, not for the first time, was raising dangerous associations with the incident, God thought a little longer and took His finger off the hand of the Universe’s clock.

The world started ticking again...

From the oncoming lane, roaring thunderously, a huge lorry shot out. With a deafening crash it whacked the wirescraper right between the eyes and, like a shit-fly, splattered the boy standing there, who was looking under the wheels for the girl and, not having the sense to shut up, kept repeating:

– Oh God, oh God, oh God...

– Another dumbfuck driver! – fumed the passengers, who, like fighter jets scrambled into battle, were flying all over the wirescraper again.

Dragged downwards by tongues of fire, the boy’s soul, which had sinfully mentioned God’s name in the wrong place, watched as upwards rose the two drivers and the little girl. “Lia lia lia lia...” – her never-ending little song could be heard in the vault of heaven.

Soon, in the highest, the Almighty’s angry voice thundered:

– Oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck it!!! Those scumbag angels and their hymns have made me sick to my sucked-off end. Fuck off to Hell, you little songbird bitch, to the paedophiles and necrophiles! You can squeal there as much as you like, you stupid jailbait!

– Jailbait! Jailbait! – countless voices from the depths joyfully echoed God’s words, as the terrified girl’s scream plunged down into the darkness when lightning struck.

Tossed by the wind, a lonely light-blue balloon rose upwards. Gliding up to heaven along with it were the two drivers, light-heartedly humming the children’s song carried by the wind, filtered through the creative potential of two future angels:

– La li lia... you damned snotty brat... lia li la... one in your fucking mug... la la lia... you whorish cunt... lia li lia... they’ll rip your arse open... la la lia... glorious God, You have punished the evildoers...

– My children... – came a satisfied voice in the highest, ready to receive two new residents of Paradise.

– My children! – rolled a wave of voices, fighting among themselves deep under the earth, having swallowed the uncomprehending boy crying for help, together with the girl who had not known how to read God’s mood. With an aching heart, the Lord went His ways, mysterious and unknown, that this might become a lesson of His love and trial to others.

In Heaven, as if infected, the angels were already twanging their harps in every corner and singing a new hymn, “Lia lia lia lia...”. They were being chased by a wirescraper, sent by God and bloated with half-rotten phantoms, which was squashing them the fuck flat, like crabs on a tramp’s head. Among the clouds hung an atmosphere of approaching rebellion and inevitable change.

Once a man was swimming along a river, when something unexpectedly tugged him by the leg. Terrified of a possible misfortune, the swimmer quickened the tempo and finally, climbing out of the water, shouted:

— Thank you, God, that You saved me from the crocodile’s jaws!

Suddenly out of the water surfaced a huge crocodile and, as if nothing had happened, having bitten off the leg, disappeared under the water. There followed a painful pause... at last, somewhat confused, the unfortunate one drew conclusions:

— Thank you, God, that You left me the other leg, so that I could, propping myself on it, walk!

Suddenly again the crocodile surfaced and bit off the remaining leg. The little man, as is known, did not have many of them. Again a pause followed... after which there sounded, this time already of a lying man, a voice:

— Thank you, God, that You left me my hands, so that I could earn myself bread!

“I will carve Pensive Christs” — the future folk master foresaw his bright future.

With that thought the crocodile appeared again and began dragging its unfinished snack towards the river. Luckily, on the road appeared local inhabitants and after a long tussle pulled the victim out of the overgrown frog’s jaws. Without legs ...already also without hands, and without consciousness, the man woke up in a hospital. Having thought a bit about the situation that had arisen, he with relief turned to the invisible Absolute:

— Thank you, Lord, that You allotted me this trial and, having sent help, protected me from death and left a mouth, with which I will be able to feed myself.

P.S. So, thank you, God, that, as long as a man is alive, it will always be possible to thank You for that which You have not yet taken away from him and for the fact that You never leave religious fanatics in misfortune.

Very long ago in the Chakro deserts lived an evil god Go. And he had chosen for himself, for a sacrifice, a beautiful girl, whom he ordered the priests to slaughter during the next ritual. But a man of the Humu tribe came to love her, and she came to love him. Understanding that the god be unpersuadable and vengeful, the lovers decided to flee. Grew angry the god Go greatly and decided to turn the girl into a heartless stone, and the man into the most terrible snake, so that all, having seen it, would mercilessly kill it. Went the days, rose and set the desert sun. The love once born was recalled only by a stone in the sand and by a snake coiled around it. But one day the girl, turned into a stone, could not hold out. Perhaps she felt pity for the unhappy snake crawling about, perhaps she grew weary of such a disgusting thing rubbing itself alongside, and the stone spoke up:

— Listen to me, Humu man! I have thought up how one can kill the god Go. Talk goes round that deep behind his eyes he hides his spirit. You need to crawl inside him and strangle it. Then the god will shake himself, like a lightning-struck epileptic, and will depart to his own kind into the beyond.

The man of the Humu tribe understood the girl’s plan and resolved for love’s sake to do everything, although he did take fright that for it a god would have to be killed. He picked for that purpose fruits from the Chamo tree, squeezed out the juice and, having poured it into the well from which the god Go used to drink, began to wait. And fell asleep the god, having drunk his fill from that well. And crawled then the snake into his head through the ear. Having wandered a while about the inner spaces, it found and without hesitating strangled the sleeping god’s spirit. Thundered the thunder, and the snake turned back into a man, and the stone into a girl. But another problem arose. The Humu man did not know how to crawl back out of the god’s noggin, for the ear hole had become too small. He began to call for help. Then the girl called to her aid a cunning sorcerer, living in the sands. That one considered a while and said:

— I will help you, but I need a hundred hens’ heads, a lion’s left leg and a monkey’s right kidney.

Ran off the girl to seek the chattels ordered and soon brought everything that was asked for. The sorcerer turned to the sun, waved his hands about in the air, uttered in his mind a magic word and turned the man again into a snake, so that he could crawl out of the god Go’s head. That one, as soon as he crawled out and saw his love long unseen, fell into her embrace at once. And the girl, having espied the horrifying snake, took a terrible fright, for she was no longer a heartless stone, and, having grabbed a huge cudgel, killed the disgusting thing on the spot.

In this legend lies hidden the simple wisdom of the elders. There is no need to turn people into stones and to leave them without supervision to weave plans. There is no need to crawl around stones heartless and blindly to heed their advice. There is no need to be a disgusting snake and to approach people, since even good intentions of a snake look suspicious. There is no need mercilessly to tear the heads off innocent hens, to chop the legs off living lions, to rummage about in monkeys’ kidneys and to try to crawl into the god Go’s ear.

— Children mine, — in fatherly fashion uttered the priest to the people gathered in the church — stretch out your hands before you and you will all receive a Snickers each. This will be proof that God is.

Just as had been ordered, the people stretched out their hands, hoping to behold a heavenly miracle. For a while they waited obediently, but when their hands began to ache, the crowd began to billow with a discontented hubbub of voices:

— Where is the Snickers?

— Aha, where is it?

— And there is no Snickers, you paedophile cassocked!

In the vaults of the church there noticeably gathered an atmosphere of religious love. Here and there appeared knives drawn from pockets, cudgels, knuckledusters and other household implements, without which not one self-respecting small-village Catholic would manage, going after mass to the dances organized in the house of culture. The situation promised not the very best prospects for the deviser of the divine action, threatening to redeem humanity’s sins with one more corpse. Thanks to religion the parishioners understood that there is nothing more divine, more just and more noble than to redeem sins by torturing and killing a person in no way connected with those sins. Thus murderers, thieves, robbers, liars can again become holy, like angels, and innocent as babes who have not yet managed to shit themselves. Therefore criminals in prison gladly study the Bible and delight in the religious philosophy expounded in it. It is close to the criminal’s soul, which seeks a victim in order to cleanse itself. From the killing the sins grew greater still, and so it was necessary to kill even more. Thus more than one man led by noble aims, e.g. Hitler or Stalin, fell into the enchanted circle of spiritual cleansing.

Having understood that the crowd might not limit itself to nailing to the cross alone, the priest grew uneasy. After a brief angry glance upward he quickly composed himself and turned to the assembled parishioners in a fatherly wise voice:

— Do you really not understand, children mine? Kneel to glorify the Lord, since today He sends us a trial. Only through the trials allotted to us can we prove that we are worthy of Paradise and of His love. Otherwise we would plunge into Hell. This once again proves that God exists, cares for us and loves us.

Among the uncomprehending there set in a pause and confusion. But soon the crowd nodded their heads and knelt for a united prayer before the Almighty, who for the umpteenth time had demonstrated a miraculous proof of divine love and care — i.e. showed nothing and gave nothing.

P.S. And at that time somewhere up above, under the organ, gorged on the wine prepared for the mass, there lay unconscious the cemetery watchman Jonas, embracing a large box of sweets. He did not realize that the priest that day was the thinnest arse-hair away from death. Everything ended well only thanks to a tongue trained in the seminary, and not solely by sucking the dicks of lecturers and other seminarians. Jonas that evening vanished as if into water, together with the axe intended for doing hens to death, a spade and a half-sack of quicklime. The sacristan asked the priest to turn to the police, so that they would catch the thief and punish him. But that one shamed him, that God teaches forgiveness, and so with that this story ended.

— Why was my child with four eyes born? — Asks the peasant of the priest, at the same time putting a bucket with uranium salt on the ground.

— So God wanted, son. — answers the priest.

And the peasant carries the uranium home. Lime he did not get, so at least with these, some sort of strange powders, the rooms he will whitewash. And as for that four-eyed one — there will be more children. God, after all, is good... .

Batman, Superman, Robin Hood - people are obsessed to have mystical benefactor. Idea about such, flying in the sky, benefactor is installed from an early age. In the beginning… this idea is introduced and indoctrinated by our parents. And “holy fathers”, after some modifications, continue its support in us later. There are many similarities between Santa Claus and God. Except one is designed more for children and another is designed more for adults. Both of them look alike - old aged males with a large, white beard. Both are invisible. Both have super powers and rewards for good behavior (what is good behavior, is determined by our parents or by “holy fathers” - a “higher level” moral “authority”). Both of them have young and pretty girls on their side - Mary and Snow White. One, for his magic works, uses mysterious elves and gnomes and another uses small and big (children) angels. It's like the same person, which changes his clothes once a year and goes exclusively to all children of the World.

Santa Claus - The first version of globally spread benefactor idea to which children are introduced. Because he is made for children, he usually dresses in glaring (red, blue, …) colors and spangles. His carriage, capable to fly, is dangled by entertaining jingles and bells. He has a big bag of sweets and gifts for good kids. Sometimes children leave (sacrifice) him milk and biscuits. Off course many of us already know, that adults simply lie and deceive children and believe that it is beneficial for children and them (of course, children learn from this example that it is ok to lie and deceive sometimes. They pay back with the same behavior later to their parents). Day comes, when children notice that it is their parents, who sneak to the Christmas tree night, like some criminals. Then children realize (if parents do not bullshit them with another hoax story) that Santa Claus is a human hoax and earthly creature, that real Santa Claus doesn’t exist and was made up by parents. But not everyone learns a lesson from that. It comes the time to stumble upon similar, but not so fun, rake the second time. His name is God..

Almighty God - He is made for adults, but can serve children too. He is much subtle creature. His dress and appearance is not so color shining, and intended for more educated and more experienced audience. He can fly across the sky, but in more serious fire breathing carriage also (although he stopped such practice with invention of video and photo cameras). As with children, this Creature gives gifts to good adults too, but they are not some childish stuff. These are more serious and corresponds seriousness and higher level, which is appropriate for adults. In return, people make sacrifices to this Beast also... money, devotion, even each other sometimes. People offer obedience to His representatives on Earth (as children are obedient to representatives of Santa Claus – to their parents). People build houses of worship, where they wish things by praying (children usually write letters – it seems children are more practical than adults in this specific matter). Holy fathers support and preserve myth of His existence between adults. They, exactly like our parents, think that it is beneficial for us (if to be precise …it is more beneficial for them). It is much more difficult to reveal lie of “holy fathers”, because their Benefactor - God is as complex and complicated, as the thinking of adults. In addition, the adult version of the Benefactor doesn’t visit Christmas trees all over the World personally and doesn’t leave material evidences of His existence. It is difficult to catch priests, running around with mountains of shop gifts, dressed as God, and in such way clear out this cleverly constructed divine hoax.