“Honey, I’m going for a walk. Do you need anything from the store?”

“No, we’re fine,” replied Simon’s wife, in the middle of changing the diaper of their newborn son.

Simon got into his electric truck and drove two miles down the country road to a small river park that gets crowded on the weekends. He turned off the engine and stared at the wide dirt trail for a long minute before getting out. On this weekday afternoon, he would be the only person there.

What a time to have a child, he thought. All manner of pure evil was being normalized. Just the other day, he was told of the newest scientific trend, the “flay dinner party,” where friends would slice tiny pieces of skin from each other using a medical tool offering painless excision, mix it with a spicy tomato relish, and eat it to candlelight for a range of purported nutritional and mental health benefits. Simon’s priest told him that society was beyond the wickedness of the Bible, and didn’t understand why Jesus had not yet returned.

The doctors wouldn’t let Simon be with his wife in the delivery room. It took a whole day for them to even let him hold the baby. Who knows what they injected him with. The latest problem on Simon’s mind was the box of feed the government drone dropped off every Monday. The vegetables seemed way larger than the days when he could pick out produce at the store, and most items contained a faint odor of bleach that couldn’t be washed out. At least the proprietary seasoning on the laboratory meat made it taste real enough.

After walking through the park for a while, Simon made it to the narrow river. He sat on a rock beside the water and focused his eyes on a fallen log that many used as a bridge to cross the river, before a sign was put up forbidding it. He took out his black prayer rope, the one he kept in his truck’s glove compartment, and held it in his right hand. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner. His eyes felt heavy, and he wanted to close them, but he resisted the urge so that images of his wretched past wouldn’t appear. He made it a third way through the rope while staring at the fallen log when behind him he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Simon turned his head and saw a frail old man glaring at him through round glasses. The thick bags underneath the old man’s eyes were stacked on top of each other like that of a lizard. His exaggerated nose dominated his face, all but hiding two gray lips. He had to be at least ninety years old, but to Simon’s eyes he possessed a brightly contrasted sheen as if he were being displayed on a quantum television set.

“Can I help you?” Simon asked, wondering where the man came from.

The old man shook his head and squeezed his lips white. “How many violations can I count? You don’t have on your face lock. You left your domestic passport at home. And is that Christian contraband I see?”

Simon loosened his grip on the prayer rope, almost dropping it from his hand.

“But you died last year. It was in the news. President Shaniqua spoke at your funeral.”

“And now I am back, and I am here talking to you and I own this park and…”

“No, leave me alone. You’re just a hologram.”

Simon turned his head back to the river and continued to pray, this time aloud. It wasn’t long until he heard a muffling sound in the distance that soon became the distinct trampling of boots on dirt.

“I may be just a hologram, but my friends are not.”

Simon turned back around. Ten or twelve soldiers lined up behind the old man, decked out in all black, faces covered in tinted masks. Simon had thought that “hologram enforcement” was just a conspiracy theory. He was told that when a powerful man died, his bodily image and a likeness of his consciousness were uploaded onto a computer system that could then be recreated nearly anywhere in the country through the use of mobile network towers. Simon was conversing with the avatar of Nathan Wolfe, a tech billionaire who died the previous year after his sixth or so heart attack as recreated by expert computer programmers hired by those of the regime who were still living. They believed that using familiar faces would invoke terror, as if seeing a ghost, and breed compliance in a way that their measures of control leading up to the Global Rebellion of 2026 had not.

“I need you to listen carefully,” Nathan said, enunciating every word. The soldier to the right of Nathan raised his rifle and pointed it at Simon. “You’re playing a very dangerous game by breaking the law to come here, but I will give you a final chance. The punishment for what you have done is re-education by nano-vaccination, an outcome that involves… side effects, as you already know, but this is done for the harmony of the world, so that the three billion people living on this overcrowded planet can co-exist in peace without conflict. The vaccination will not kill you, but the things you believe now, you will not believe later, and the things you disbelieve now, you will come to miraculously believe. Your wife will still look at you as you, as the man she chose to marry—for some foolish reason I may add as your dangerous behavior now indicates—and you will not be inhibited to raise your child in a way that is more or less fitting for what it means to be a human parent. The promise I offer you is that if you receive the nano-vaccination, which my agent can administer today, right now, you won’t be bothered again, and you will be able to enjoy the best entertainments we can produce, beamed directly to your quantum television set, which is about to get an exciting upgrade. You will eat the most advanced foods that our scientists can create. You will even be allowed to experience a bond for your wife and child, which you may perceive as love, but without all that hateful and extreme baggage you have corrupted yourself with by consuming forbidden materials and practicing archaic rituals that will only cause those whom you care about great harm.” Nathan flashed his bright eyes at the prayer rope.

“Okay I’ll put on the face lock and carry my passport at all times,” Simon said. “I just needed a break from it all. I won’t disobey again.”

“Oh I’m afraid we’re too far past that. The problem is that your psychology is damaged, disordered. Our scientists have discovered a mutated gene that makes you believe in myths, fairytales, and scientific impossibilities. These beliefs are causing friction in our world. You are—by a small but measurable degree—corrupting this planet and spreading that corruption to others, to your wife, to your child, to those in your secret church, which is no secret at all, for we know everything, and we have allowed things to get as far as they have, and maybe it’s time for us to close that church, because it’s up for us to decide, and…” Nathan stopped and blinked in a repeating cycle of five blinks, three blinks, and eight blinks before his left shoulder twitched and he began speaking again. “Your family does not deserve the pain and suffering that your disobedience is bringing to them. Halt this theatrical worship in God! Stop this egotistical, self-centered sham! Think of your life and your family. Think of your neighbor, those in your church, who you are supposed to love as yourself, if I’m not mistaken.”

Simon did not respond. He stared at Nathan, curious about the specific workings of the hologram, wondering if he could explain it to others, if anyone would believe him, if the nano-vaccination would leave his brain intact to even be able to recollect Nathan for what he really was. A minute passed in silence; the only noise was a soldier who cleared his throat and the warbling song of a male American robin looking for a mate. Then Nathan perceived movement. Simon’s thumb and forefinger were advancing through the prayer rope, one knot at a time. Simon was asking Jesus Christ to have mercy on his wife and son.

“You’re praying! I must say, Simon, computer-generated or not, I am continually amazed that people are willing to throw away their lives for a lie.”

All the remaining soldiers pointed their weapons at Simon. He looked at each one in a vain attempt to identify with their humanity, but he could not see their eyes, their faces, their hair, or even any visible skin. He wondered if they were holograms too.

Simon inhaled and extended his right arm in front of his body, opening his hand to the sky, his prayer rope dangling from his fingers. The breath of the robin’s song could have blown it onto the ground. Nathan widened his eyes and gave a crooked grin at what was appearing to be an act of submission to the regime. Another success for those chosen by blood to rule the Earth! Another sealed soul! Only the programmers could know if Nathan perceived a feeling of happiness and power like he would had he been alive, but any possibility of his digital pleasure was eliminated when Simon clasped the first three fingers of his hand and rested the remaining two against his palm and then pulled back his arm and touched his forehead and said, “Glory to the Father.”

The force of the twelve bullets that entered Simon’s body pushed him backwards. He felt an intense heat throughout his torso but perceived no pain and was still able to stand. He managed to touch his right hand to what was left of his stomach and said, “And to the Son…”

At least sixty more shots were fired, nearly all hitting their target. Nathan snarled and clenched his fists as the transgressor fell onto the rocks by the river’s edge. The sound of the water grew faint in Simon’s ear as the very center of his vision became bright like the sun. He had no ability to hold air in his lungs but was able to mouth “And to the Holy Spirit” before his soul departed.

As if a switch had been flicked, the hologram vanished. The troops began to exit the park. The address of their next assignment, Simon’s house, was spoken into their headsets. Nathan Wolfe would meet them there.

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Terrifying story because of how true it rings

Reply 6 Likes

Maybe the decline in mean IQ worldwide is a blessing, because it would make something like this harder to implement. During one of my priest's Holy Week sermons he said that Christ's return is certainly no more than 100 years away. We may see.

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Sancte Mauritius, ora pro nobis.

Without going into details...

There are more than a few of us who aren't planning on going out quietly.

Maybe the decline in mean IQ worldwide is a blessing, because it would make something like this harder to implement.

"Is that Christian contraband in your hands!" The overweight land-whale barks out while reaching for their handgun.

"Nope, it's my misbaha, allahu akbar!" I reply.

"Why does it have a Crucifix on it?" The covid-vax enforcer says in between deep breaths, the flight of stairs was exhausting.

"I took it off a dead salibi while fighting for the caliphate." I say without skipping beat.

"Alright then. Carry on."

"Ave Maria, Gratia plena! That's Arabic for death to the unvaxxed!"

"Right on!" She waddles off to continue her rounds.

-Future idiocracy affirmative action hire trying to persecute Christians.

Reply 13 Likes

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All manner of pure evil was being normalized. Just the other day, he was told of the newest scientific trend, the “flay dinner party,” where friends would slice tiny pieces of skin from each other using a medical tool offering painless excision, mix it with a spicy tomato relish, and eat it to candlelight for a range of purported nutritional and mental health benefits. Simon’s priest told him that society was beyond the wickedness of the Bible, and didn’t understand why Jesus had not yet returned.

Would like to share an image here, but the "insert image' feature only allows links.
Here is the 23 June 1883 New York Times [article link]

BLOOD IN PASSOVER BREAD; A CHRISTIAN GIRL KILLED BY JEWS FOR THE SAKE OF HER BLOOD.

Terrifying story because of how true it rings

True events make great [fiction] stories. Look at Edgar Allan Poe's writings.
Can you image having a few of these short stories in a well written book? Individuals' testimonies of what it is like living in COVID19 times.

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Just wanted to thank you Roosh for what you do. Oddly enough, for whatever reason, I was working and I played a video on YouTube with a clickbait title, just to see what the crowd I used to listen to were saying and wow! I thank God for His saving grace. It was a video with one of the “3 R’s...” I think you know who I mean, and he actually made a comment about one of your books and my ears perked up bc he said it was your best and I thought he was going to say “American Pilgrim.” I was wrong... he mockingly says “well it’s out of print now... blah blah...” then goes on and says something about getting board and “finding God.” It made me sick. I immediately turned it off and came here to take a spiritual bath so to speak. It was a great read. It’s so crazy how the Spirit can work in our lives to the extent we forget our old lives and see the lie Satan presents us. This guy just wrote a nonsense book claiming to be “red pill religion,” but you can tell he’s blind. Your work is so valuable for those of us that were pulled out of our slop and live for God in our godless society.

And for what it’s worth, your new book IS the best writing of your career.

Reply 4 Likes

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Just wanted to thank you Roosh for what you do. Oddly enough, for whatever reason, I was working and I played a video on YouTube with a clickbait title, just to see what the crowd I used to listen to were saying and wow! I thank God for His saving grace. It was a video with one of the “3 R’s...” I think you know who I mean, and he actually made a comment about one of your books and my ears perked up bc he said it was your best and I thought he was going to say “American Pilgrim.” I was wrong... he mockingly says “well it’s out of print now... blah blah...” then goes on and says something about getting board and “finding God.” It made me sick. I immediately turned it off and came here to take a spiritual bath so to speak. It was a great read. It’s so crazy how the Spirit can work in our lives to the extent we forget our old lives and see the lie Satan presents us. This guy just wrote a nonsense book claiming to be “red pill religion,” but you can tell he’s blind. Your work is so valuable for those of us that were pulled out of our slop and live for God in our godless society.

And for what it’s worth, your new book IS the best writing of your career.

What's the video?

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President Shaniqua.

We're pretty much just a few months away from it!

Reply 5 Likes

I liked the short story, it's elegant and heartfelt. I feel hopeful you'll keep writing them. If I may add, however, there are two "may adds" very close, that really don't serve to shape Nathan's Wolfe discourse (to make It distinctive) so that's my only input. God Bless!

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Awesome, Roosh. From the ROK days until now, you were always quite the talented wordsmith.

Nathan Wolfe is, of course, (((Nathan Wolfe))). :laughter:

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I liked the short story, it's elegant and heartfelt. I feel hopeful you'll keep writing them. If I may add, however, there are two "may adds" very close, that really don't serve to shape Nathan's Wolfe discourse (to make It distinctive) so that's my only input. God Bless!

Good catch. I fixed it.

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President Shaniqua! Maybe the scariest part of the story LOL

I couldn't get that outta my head as I read the rest of the story ;-)

Reply 1 Like

President Shaniqua! Maybe the scariest part of the story LOL

I couldn't get that outta my head as I read the rest of the story ;-)

As @DanielH pointed out... we are just waiting for the 25th Amendment to be invoked once Good Ole Uncle Joe has served his purpose.... Except our Shaniqua is a descendant of Hindu's and slave owning Jamaicans . We are in for a really wild ride.

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Do any Eastern Catholics or Orthodox separated brethren have a recommendation on a Prayer Rope I could buy online? I enjoy praying the Jesus Prayer and would very much love a new tangible addition to my spiritual warfare arsenal. Regards, a Roman.

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Do any Eastern Catholics or Orthodox separated brethren have a recommendation on a Prayer Rope I could buy online? I enjoy praying the Jesus Prayer and would very much love a new tangible addition to my spiritual warfare arsenal. Regards, a Roman.

Buy it from your nearest Orthodox monastery. Those are usually handmade and of good quality.

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Do any Eastern Catholics or Orthodox separated brethren have a recommendation on a Prayer Rope I could buy online? I enjoy praying the Jesus Prayer and would very much love a new tangible addition to my spiritual warfare arsenal. Regards, a Roman.

Etsy sells them.

Reply 1 Like

Do any Eastern Catholics or Orthodox separated brethren have a recommendation on a Prayer Rope I could buy online? I enjoy praying the Jesus Prayer and would very much love a new tangible addition to my spiritual warfare arsenal. Regards, a Roman.

Many Orthodox monasteries and nunneries sell different styles of prayer ropes. I prefer the Russian style with long tassels.

I've been wanting to pick up a Lestovka (ladder). Each step will have twigs or the Jesus Prayer on parchment wrapped in leather. Here is video on them if you are interested (I'm not affiliated with this channel in any way.):

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Brave New World was a fantasy book - not an instruction manual.

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Do any Eastern Catholics or Orthodox separated brethren have a recommendation on a Prayer Rope I could buy online? I enjoy praying the Jesus Prayer and would very much love a new tangible addition to my spiritual warfare arsenal. Regards, a Roman.

Sounds like something anybody can make at home—for himself, and for family and friends. (Not everything has to be commercialized.)

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