Father Christopher's Miracles on Ice...
...and the cat with nine lives
Father Christopher feeds the EGR Irregulars
You're a man of the mountains, you can walk on the clouds, | Manipulator of crowds, you're a dream twister. | You're going to Sodom and Gomorrah | But what do you care? |
In 1983, rock icon Bob Dylan wrote and dedicated his song Jokerman to Father Christopher, or Chris Locke as he is known in secular circles and the Department for Homeland Defense. "It takes one to know one," he said when I asked him why he had written the song. Shortly before Dylan wrote it, Father Christopher had been offended by the troubador's advances towards his sister and terminated a budding affair.
On Dylan's release of Infidels later that year, Father Christopher made the following caustic comment: "I have been to Sodom and Gomorrah, but I know the little ingrate wants to marry my sister. He's been hanging around the Jesus Bunker for three years singing facile songs to her." He told Dylan to remove the offending line from the song. Bob did so without hesitation.
Yes, such is the esteem in which Father Christopher, my friend and spiritual adviser is held. Known for his ability to turn shite into poesy, his greatest achievement has been to feed the masses with one fish for several months. People speak in hushed tones of miracles and signs in the east, but Father Christopher and I know that Brother Marek 'You gotta potato?' J. is to blame for this.
Nevertheless, publicity generated by Father Christopher's feeding a single fish to 5,000 malnourished EGR Irregulars crowding the hills surrounding the Jesus Bunker continues to make news. Revisionist historian and noted meme generator Brother Gary "PorridgeBoy" Turner has outraged England's Anglican Church by erecting a shrine to the man Queen Elizabeth II secretly admires and calls "My Boulder Boy".
When news of Father Christopher's failing health and need of coffee, strong cigarettes and fresh women reached Sister Jeneane Sessum, she kicked butt and rallied Irregulars to the leader's cause. Sister Shelley Powers contributed books and Brother Euan Semple passed the collection plate. Pope John Paul II cancelled his 25th anniversary celebrations and said Mass for Father Christopher instead, causing no end of a bother in the Vatican. Cardinal Ratzinger, Father Christopher's rival in the race to become the next Pontiff, hanged himself from London's Blackfriar's Bridge and United States President George W. Bush, who says Father Christopher gave him the job, called on Congress to donate $87 billion. Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden made up and were married at a secret ceremony in the Jesus Bunker. Dr. Phil McGraw and Arnold Schwarzenegger exchanged vows at the same ceremony.Such is the unifying power of faith. Where Jim Jones was a fraud and a failure, Father Christopher is a saint and wonder worker. I caught up with him Friday in the control room monitoring the perimeter fence of the Jesus Bunker. Our interview is to be carried by all the major networks next week and Private Jessica Lynch's book has been canned. Amy Goodman has been hammering at my door and I've let her in. Michael Moore is making a movie of Father Christopher's life to now and Andrew Sullivan has departed for Calcutta where he is working as a maid for the Sisters of Mercy.
Dave Winer has given up blogging to become a stuffed cat and Brother Gary has sent him a Classic RageBoy Commemorative Thong. Reduced to eating what remains of his fish, Father Christopher is unrepentant. In one of his last entries, my friend and spiritual adviser replicates Dia de los Muertos, a piece written in happier times; November last year, in fact - any time is better than now. In it, he writes:
I wept.Indeed. We all know that line, don't we. The injunction is clear. Give generously, motherfuckers (to use one of Father Christopher's favorite phrases), or you will inherit the Kingdom of Hell. The Lake of Fire awaits and you will not be spared. If, however, you spend generously at Brother Euan's, buy one of Brother Gareth's tacky Rageboy Limited Edition Calendars (the British are so good at this sort of thing, aren't they?) you can, as Father Christopher writes in his entry of October 15, 2003, "Expect Miracles."
You may indeed. Trust me. I understand these things. Shut your eyes, think of Selena, and open your check book. You will become the rich man without any name, coming to the aid of the friend to the martyr, the friend to the woman of shame. What more could you ask for?
Note
With Father Christopher's guidance, Bob Dylan revised his little dittie and a great collaboration was born. If you think Time Out of Mind was a fluke, coming as it did on September 11, 2001, think again. I happen to know Dylan, travelling incognito, was meeting with Father Christopher in the Jesus Bunker that day, reading goat stories and making bacon. It is as Brother Marek says: "A Pig sitting up an Oak tree with a bowl of cherries can become relevant..."
Now, where's my fucking fish?
Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune, | Bird fly high by the light of the moon, | Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.
Bob Dylan | Jokerman
