by: Kidman J. Williams
January 26, 2017 was the day that over half the country and world finally took a notice and interest in politics. Everyone became a pseudo crusader for what they thought was right and wrong in this world.
Mad chaos ensued between every individual and group that you could think of. The feminists were fighting the male gender, Black Lives Matter was fighting with Blue Lives Matter, the LGBT were screaming at the Breeders and hicks, and everyone was fighting with the Alt-Right.
It was a circus that was keeping the main attraction hidden from everyone who bought a ticket. Much like in North Korea, we had no choice but to buy the ticket.
As I watched the King of the Oompa Loompas take the stage at noon to officially become our 45th President of these United States a death chill ran up my spine. I couldn’t imagine how so many people could think that a businessman would help people and fix the economy for everybody and help those very people succeed while still holding true to his own special interests.
What a fantastic pignut.
First 70 Days, Time for a Drink
We all have that sanctuary, I am no different. After hearing all about the Syrian government using chemical warfare on its own people and seeing the intensely graphic videos, I felt like I needed my bar, Aqua.
Aqua isn’t the greatest bar in the world, Hell, they don’t even have beer on tap, but they do have beer, Jameson, two of my favorite bartenders, usually, and of course that cool neon fluttering through the room giving the ambiance that your buzz requires.
Your hometown hole-in-the-wall doesn’t have to be the most impressive and trendy bar, it just has to be home.
At one time Aqua was the most impressive club in the Hernando County area owned by a young, shrewd man who loved money and sushi rolls. After he sold it for a tidy profit a peep show owner from Las Vegas bought it.
He ripped out the tappers, the high-end leather sectionals, and coffee tables. Stripped the place of all of its great professional billiard tables and shoved two small quarter tables in the back area where the liquor store was.
Yeah, they had a liquor store connected to the club.
Then the next owners took over after the Vegas pimp got done destroying the club and its reputation to two people who really didn’t have the money to fix all the problems that the pimp created.
I am honored to call Aqua my piece of heaven.
Ladies Night with Christian Zionists
I walked in on that disastrous evening after the US bombed Syria against Russia’s warnings, which really set a tone for many people across the US and certainly did for the sleepy little Florida town.
It was Ladies Night, but it wasn’t the normal meat market. There was a tension in the air. I don’t mean the tension of eager beavers and penis sweat; it was far from the usual hormonal affair.
Trump with one missile attack at Syria had managed to start quarrels with Russia, China, Syria, and much like that little annoying kid from every 80’s movie who sides with the bully, North Korea decided to stir up the pot with idle threats of their misguided nuclear weapons program. Kim Jung-Frumpy-Butt was more of joke than a serious threat.
Almost every conversation I walked through to get to the bar started with an “If Trump—” like they were some sort of ambassadors with political science degrees from Harvard.
I got up to the bar, “Jay!” I yelped over the flock of women pleading to have him take his shirt off behind the bar. “Jay, I need a Guinness and a shot of Jameson, please?”
“We’re out of Guinness!”
“Really?!? Again?!?” I yelled back disappointed. “Then just drop a Coors down for me.”
“Oh, and the Jameson!”
“Got it, you’re good!”
As he walked to the end of the bar to hand me my beer you could hear the girls still yelping feverishly to catch a glimpse of Jay’s bare chest.
As I sat at the end of the bar I kept noticing a small group of men talking at one of the tables against the wall. They were all clad in dress slacks and ties. I thought to myself that that was an odd ensemble for a little bar in Spring Hill. They were in a deep conversation. You could tell even from where I was at the other end of the bar room.
I decided to walk over by the gentlemen in their unique attire for a night on the town. I sat at the table behind them.
The man with the sharp goatee was the obvious ringleader of the crew as I heard him, “The end of the world is truly upon us. We are seeing the Middle East in utter turmoil which as we know is the grounds for which the Anti-Christ will be upon us and Trump is opening the doors wide with a subservient bow to the dark Lord. Do you fools not see it? I know these drunken bafoons here don’t!”
“Bafoons?!?” I interjected. “Maybe baboons, but come on, bafoon might be a little harsh don’t you think?”
Two of the well-dressed men chuckled a bit, which seemed to insult the leader a bit as he looked at me with a little contempt. “Who are you?”
“I’m Kidman,” I replied purposefully with an eyebrow raise and cocky smile.
“Who are you or what are you?”
He threw out his slender hand with a stern face, “Daniel.”
“That is very formal Danny.”
“It is Daniel, thank you. What do you do Kidman, besides drink in a bar?”
“I am a journalist.”
Right at this point I realized I was dealing with the dreadful Christian Right-winger. Now I knew for sure I had an obligation to mess with him. “So, what are you guys talking about, Armageddon? End of days and all that?”
“Yes,” he replied sternly. “We–”
“Them or you?”
“We,” Daniel snapped as one of the men behind his back shook his head no.
“Are you some kind of Christian Zionist or something?”
“I am a Christian Zionist and the stage is being set. The Jews regained the Holy land again back in 1948 and that was the first moment that set a chain of historical and biblical events leading us to the End of Days,” Daniel said confidently with a smug look.
“So much like Hitler, you think the Jewish people are all to blame?” At this point, even with my limited knowledge, I knew this wannabe Zionists just had to be messed with. “The end of the world is happening because the Jews were back in the Holy Land.”
“That isn’t what I’m saying at all,” Daniel snapped back regretfully.
“Really?!? Because that is almost exactly what it sounds like.”
“I’m just saying that it was all a part of God’s divine plan. The Jewish people are supposed to bring on the end of the world.”
“You really aren’t hearing yourself are you?”
His friends started snickering at my comments. It occurred to me that Daniel was probably their alpha dog who liked to hump the furniture in the kitchen.
“Armageddon is inevitable. There is nothing that can be done to avoid it.” Daniel kept going on his tirade like a televangelist. “Christian Zionism is not based on prophecy. Israel’s entering back in the world’s affairs is the fulfillment of God’s promise and other biblical events will follow.”
“So again, you just fancied that up and said that God made the Jews the patsy of the whole end of days movement,” I said smiling ear to ear. “I mean, you said it isn’t based on prophecy, but then told me in the same breath that the biblical events will follow. Nothing like trying to use circular logic.”
Daniel wasn’t sure what to say at this point. He attempted to turn his back on me when his short friend with the flat-top spoke up, “Keep going. What else were you going to say?”
“So we should just follow the laws of the book and follow suit? I’m not sure I’m OK with that idea. If we know that it could happen, shouldn’t we take it as a warning verse accepting the fate? Don’t you think God would rather have us live?”
“This is the way that it will be,” Daniel said with a cocking of his head.
I got my shot of Jameson from the waitress, downed it and got away from the Zionist as quickly as I could before the fun was gone and I just started swinging on the vain, cousin-kissing, bible-banging hipster hedge-pig.
I just don’t understand why some people want the end of the world to happen. It almost seems like they are eager to fulfill the prophecies themselves; at any cost.
End of Days or Night
Drunk and waiting for a Uber is sobering. You know how drunk you are, you are very aware that you shouldn’t have done what you did because tomorrow is going to be Hell on Earth. You are going to wish the Anti-Christ was coming to save you from an agonizing morning.
As I was standing outside having a cigarette under the bright blue neon I saw Daniel and the Death Crew catalog models come outside.
Daniel looked snidely at me like I ran over his poodle. “What man? I feel like you want my…me…you…say something,” clearly I wasn’t nearly as sharp as I was in the beginning of the night.
Daniel kind of chuckled and looked at his friends for a little affirmation.
“See, this is the kind of person that will be stuck here on Earth when the Rapture happens,” Daniel said boastfully.
With my one moment of clarity I retorted, “See! This is the kind of arrogance that thinks he won’t be here in the living Hell that is created on this Earth when the shit really hits the fan.”
Just as the other cult members started to laugh behind Daniel’s back, I felt a slight discomfort in my stomach and a dizzying wave come through my vision. I suddenly saw a look of worry wash over Daniel’s face which forced my brain to focus.
Why is he looking like that, I thought to myself. Just then my head bobbled back and I barfed all over Daniel’s pants…twice.
His friends began to laugh out loud for the first time in the night. I wiped my mouth and told Daniel, “See, with every ending there is a new and exciting beginning. It is never truly the end of anything. I’m ready to party! Rally time right here baby!”
As I went back to the bar, I was thinking about some of the stuff that Daniel had said. It was still a ridiculous thought. Maybe I will be left behind if the Rapture happened. Maybe I won’t be. Maybe, just maybe Jesus will find me just this side of entertaining that he keeps me. After-all, he does love everybody right?
Prep Time For Bonzo
I woke up the next day much like a 2 week year old baby. I couldn’t even hold my own head up. My body ached, my head felt like John Holmes was sticking his 13.5 inch through my frontal lobe, it was an awful feeling. What was worse is that I could only remember the parts of the night with the Zionist. Hardly remember what the girl looked like that I was talking to.
My whole day was a waste. Couldn’t hardly eat. However, it was much-needed recuperation.
By the next day I came to learn that Trump was on a campaign to start World War III. Russia who we all thought was lying in bed big spooning Trump while his baby hand was reaching behind him stroking Putin’s mighty bear, it turns out that maybe Putin didn’t want him in office for an ally. He may have wanted him in office for a game of strip Chess to see who had the biggest jockey schwartz.
I kept thinking to myself, end of the world? No, maybe just some sort of seal broken, but not the end of times. Trump is too much of a self-serving pie faced moron to be the Anti-Christ.
The fact is that Armageddon, if the doomsday brigade were right, would need a lot of steps coming up to it. Hell, if Isaac Newton was right about his own calculations we still have another four decades before anything really starts.
Everyone is looking for the end of the world, I can’t imagine why people would want to actually see this phenomenon. Who in their minds would want to bear witness to such a horrifying sight? Our children dying, parents, friends, family…JESUS CHRIST who are these blood thirsty canker blossoms?
What could I do to actually prepare for the end of days? Really, nothing. There isn’t a damn thing to do for the end of the world. All you can do is say Hell with it and let the chips fall wherever they may fall. All we can do is pick the right side whenever it does manage to come.
All I kept thinking about was Trump, if it happens just don’t leave me alone without a good beer, a good girl, some books, and maybe a little weed when the going gets boring.