The Pioneer of Love
George Washington, the first and greatest pioneer of love, was a bastard child conceived out of wedlock when his damn mother, the queen slut of England, seduced the emperor of Japan, the king of Arabia, the czar of Russia, the chief of Namibia, and many, many other foreign rascals! Honestly, whoever she adulterated doesn’t actually matter, at least not in her opinion. According to her confession, she was innocent of adultery because *n*l sex isn’t really sex, and I’m inclined to agree, and so is British law since it refuses to even mention that disgusting deed.
But, if the queen thought she could fornicate without paying a price, she was very, very wrong. And so, after all her evil deeds, she mysteriously and quite miraculously conceived a child in her liver. She cried when she missed her first period, and when she grew fat she personally executed her chef, her royal farmers, her beef cattle and all her dairy cows, pigs, chickens, and even her only apple tree.
But her appetite continued growing, she continued expanding and she even took the king’s larger throne. Even then, her husband suspected nothing foul. So, I sent him a dream from which he woke laughing and jeering at his blinking wife, “GOD KNOWS YOU CHEATED SO YOU’RE GOING TO HELL WHILE I GO TO HEAVEN! WHO’S THE WINNER NOW? HAHA!”
She pulled his pecker so hard that he wept. Then the villainess headed for England’s raunchiest nude beach to flaunt the evidence of her sins. Soon rumors started spreading, and in a desperate effort at damage control, the queen’s doctors told the public that the bulging monarch suffered from an obesity gene, and against God’s wishes, they attempted to flush out the fetus with champagne enemas while the queen was asleep. By God’s grace they failed and were punished with English dishes.
Meanwhile, the wicked Queen Hillarious continued to exhibit herself in public, as if she were proud of the miracle inside her. Witnesses glimpsed movements in her belly and guessed that an unborn child was struggling to escape from its mother. The public was horrified. They had always believed that royalty reproduced without sex, without wombs and especially without vaginas. God could have told them the truth, but He who knows whether that would have made matters worse or not. So, the confusion grew. The outraged public demanded reassurances that the royals were still virgins, as per the English tradition, and both the king and the queen swore they were. But, doubts remained and investigations were launched. The queen tolerated so many inspections and re-inspections of her virginity she left the public even more outraged.
Now a violent revolution was brewing in the pot of royal scandal. The court’s priests tried to save the country by blaming the mysterious pregnancy on God. This greatly impressed the English people; but God was not pleased to be implicated in adultery, so the priests woke one day to find their genitals so enlarged that they had to be executed for decency’s sake, for God’s sake, and for England’s sake.
Finally, on the greatest birthday in the history of the world, the queen was liberated from her burden and her lovechild made his debut with a splash in an ivory bowl. He was named George “Jesus Christ” Washington, and he was destined to be England’s first prince of love, and he would have fulfilled his destiny if his wicked mother had not ruined God’s plan. The disaster happened while the royal family picnicked under black umbrellas. They sipped tea and played Anna & Tommy while little George sat under a tree, practicing his addition and multiplication tables so that he would one day be fit to rule England. Of course, the king tried to keep an eye on the boy, but when his wife started entertaining her guests with her lips, he lost his focus and Satan took advantage.
This is how it happened. From the deepest pit of Hell, a bunny emerged with an evil agenda. It hopped to George’s side and gestured with one leg for him to come along into the English wilderness. The naive young prince was delighted and excitedly followed the beast into the dark, untamed English wilderness. Once they were alone, the fuzzy devil taught George to eat intoxicating, noxious weeds whose drug-like powers corrupted his mind. Hours later, he walked home with a weird glow around his eyes.
The next day, he was no longer himself. He demanded fresh salads for all his meals and ate without cutlery. And, while no one was looking, he took the family’s golden utensils and gave them to the poor. He was also reported kissing dirty servant women, setting the animals in the royal stables free on the palace grounds, and rolling in the dirt beside the royal gardener.
The royals were understandably scandalized. The queen locked the possessed prince up in the Tower of Horrors and threatened to keep him there until he washed his soul clean. George didn’t understand. He thought she meant wash his soles clean, so five times a day he stood barefoot in a basin and sang horrible love songs about mommies and puppies. His little voice rang out over England and made even the hardiest Englishman so sick that only the boy’s pappy was able to keep his food down. For many nights, the good king climbed the tower’s stairs carrying dates and dumplings for his son and weeds for his pet.
One day, the child had a revelation: the king did not use keys to enter his cell. George was astonished to find that his door had been unlocked all along. Overjoyed, he descended the long winding stairwell and burst through the door and into the outside world. He was greeted by miserable English rain. After sating his thirst with a puddle, Prince George cried out for help and knocked on doors, but no one answered. He tried to tell the faces in the windows that he was the prince of England, but no one believed him. Angered beyond words, the wild, unmannered boy pissed on England’s doors, shit on England’s vegetable gardens and went home shouting insults at all of England.
At home, Prince George continued his evil ways. On his 14th birthday, even the king could not tolerate another year with Satan’s spawn, so he said to him, “George, God has told me that you’re too good for England and must go to India. It’s a nice place. Its people breed like rabbits, so I’m sure you’ll find a friend there.” The kind king put the boy on a ship and gave him a barrel of gin, sandwiches covered in butter, jams full of sugar, and four pregnant domestic animals. The ship’s captain, Christopher Columbus, nearly adopted the royal orphan and loved him so much that he quite forgot to navigate. Columbus spent so much time petting the young prince that they could have drifted for eternity on the ocean.
Luckily, God steadily blew their ship in a westerly direction, to the other India, to the one men call Amerika. After a peaceful journey across the Atlantic, a giant wave lifted the ship onto the wild shores of Amerika. The land’s godless savages laughed at the sight of them, for they thought white skin, blue eyes and blonde hair were wondrously funny. George wasn’t offended at all, not even when he tried to give them warm hugs and they accused him of being a homosexual. Despite being treated quite coldly, he was confident that the natives could be good people and, despite Columbus’ cowardly warnings, he was determined to stay with them.
George turned his beached ship into a wobbly home and studied the crude, native language. Five times a night and seven times on Sundays, he climbed the great mast of his rotting ship, stood in the crow’s nest and sang about God’s love in garbled native-speak. Much to his surprise, during his first night of singing, one gang of savages known as the Bloody Thieves told him to shut up. He did, but as they staggered away he sang after them, “I love you! I love you! I love you all, and everything you say and do only makes me love you more!”
Luckily, although they understood his Indian words, they were much too sleepy to bother punishing him before morning. At that time, George approached his enemies and gave them all his possessions, and they ate everything, just as they had already eaten Captain Columbus. They would have eaten George, too, but George traced the heart-shaped symbol of eternal love on his white breast, bravely kissed their fearsome leader, Chief Talking Bull, and whispered, “I am the peaceful pioneer of love. Please ask your men to bury their weapons.”
The chief laughed, “These little gold and silver forks and knives? But then, with what will we carve your meat?”
“No, no, no, my friend, cannibalism is not the way of love. Besides, white meat is not good for your heart and waistlines. If you wish to be as strong and fit as I am, suck milk from the cows, nectar from the flowers and sugar from cane.”
The Bloody Thieves thought he was mad from dehydration, so they gave him their foul water to drink. Then George caught beaver fever and for days imagined himself a beaver, fell in love with a woman from the beaver tribe and tried to impress her by toppling trees with his teeth. When his enemies pursued him, he swam to a beaver lodge and clung fast until the Bloody Thieves came with their boats, captured him, tied him to a log, towed him downstream and sent him floating across the sea to his fatherland.
Back in England, George told his parents about the perfect devils living in the netherworld far beyond the sea, and though they were frightened to hear of it, young George bravely swore he continue the dangerous task of converting them to the English way. His mother was delighted. Indeed, she was so desperate to be rid of the boy that she offered to have sex once with the captain who took her boy back to Amerika. Fortunately, no captain in Europe was willing row his boat in her foul waters.
Frustrated, Hillarious cruelly planned to sell George to a French butcher, but once again the king rescued the boy. This time, however, he sent the boy out on the vast ocean in a bathtub he had laden with children’s books, a map, a telescope, a bag of wheat, a teddy bear, flowers and—for an anchor—a blank headstone. Sadly, the winds and the currents were not favorable, and little George circled the globe many times before he beached back on the Amerikan continent.
This time God’s pioneer of love chose to impress the land’s savage women. With his bare hands he built the now famous Bath House along the Potomac River. He built it between seven sturdy flowering trees. When the first spring came, the house turned into a cloud of blossoms. Their stench polluted the surrounding air and drifted on the wind until the local women came. George kissed their hands and said with the most charming smile, “If you want to experience true love, abandon your huts made of human bones, be baptized in my bathtub under a roof of flowers and join me in worshipping the sacred petroglyph of God that I drew on my northern wall.”
They pretended to be charmed. The fact is, they only lusted for his beautiful white body. I warned him. I warned him in dreams against giving the gift of love to those beasts of prey, but he only wept in his sleep and in the morning he welcomed his enemies into his home and became their slave. Every day he washed and massaged their feet, baked their bread and cooked Thanksgiving Dinners until he was dead from exhaustion.
One day, the jealous Gang of Thieves returned from worshipping Satan, found their women with George and yelled, “You scoundrel! You stole our women!”
“I?” George asked, pausing his massage. “But how can a slave steal his masters?”
“You put an evil spell on them with your flowers, pastries and sausages!”
“You left your women to commit adultery with Satan!”
“Nonsense! We left them to hunt the giant beaver that terrorizes these parts!” they lied. Then they bound poor George to a log, pushed him out to sea and shouted after him, “When you get to Heaven, please put in a good word for us with your daddy, okay?”
“My father is a gentlemen, but my mother you should fear!” George shouted as a salty wave crashed into his gullet.
That might have been the end of George, but the Bloody Thieves had misjudged how well English fat floats. After spending two nights marinating on the sea, George floated back up the Potomac and beached near the Forest of Love. This time Chief Talking Bull hung poor George out to dry before dragging him to court, where George was formally accused of trespassing on another’s continent. After presenting striped and spotted babies as evidence of criminal behavior and genetic corruption, Chief Talking Bull condemned him to marry the terrifying giant beaver.
George was overjoyed. He blessed his enemies for giving him a chance to prove that he is God’s true pioneer of love. Then, for weeks, he sang love poems flattering the biggest beavers but succeeded in scaring them away. This unexpected consequence infuriated the Indians, who depended on the beavers for everything, so they passed a new sentence and put George to work grinding their flour and baking their bread. And yet, despite all of these injustices and sufferings, George’s love only intensified.
A Change of Plan
Once upon a time, Satan was God’s wife, and their children lived in peace on Earth until Satan lost her mind and fell head-over-heels in love with her naked, savage children. Then she abandoned her home and all her duties in Heaven and went to live in primitive Amerika and let the savages fight over her body and become her slaves. No man could resist her until George arrived, for in him Satan met her match.
One night, Satan travelled in secret, watching him flirt with the Beaver tribe, and she became so jealous that she told the savage men that an Englishman was destroying their hunting tradition by teaching animals to love humans. So, they came after George to make love to George. He would surely have died if God had not put the seed of his power in a mighty barrel-cylinder, put the thing in George’s hand and commanded him thus: “Hold this little cannon in plain sight so that everyone will know that you are King George, ruler of the Kingdom of Amerika. Tell Satan she can kiss your pickled toes. Then tell the savages that they will be turned into rabbits unless they build a civilization and work for God’s love.”
King George communicated God’s will in beautiful sonnets and other verses. Satan-the-philistine laughed, but the natives did not laugh, which proves beyond a doubt that poetry is a powerful communicative tool. If you doubt this, try reading George’s poems about civilization. Copies of his best ones are provided below at no extra cost.
An Economical Love Song, Part 1
Oh sweet, sweet Civilization!
You are my inspiration,
My dedication, my motivation!
You make my heart race,
You make my feet race,
I know your surname, it is Economy.
We live in harmony, not like sodomy.
As my true wife, you deserve my life!
You are so fair—in all affairs!
God’s best creation!
You make my heart race,
Whenever we embrace,
You make me work,
And go berserk,
For you I sweat,
Oh, you make me wet!
Oh sweet, sweet, sweet Civilization!
You are my inspiration,
You are the reason I get out of bed,
For you I’ll work until I’m dead!
For you are everything,
The reason I work and sing,
I read your love letters:
They are so legal tender,
So full of numbers,
Dullards call them dollars,
But they are so much more—
They are the true currency of love:
Kisses from the Boss Above!
Oh, sweet Economy and Civilization
As your prophet I can see
You will save us from exhaust-ion
With machines and electricity!
One day padded electric chairs
Will make dying so easy
And coal-powered toothbrushes and drills,
Will make cleanliness a thrill.
But, now your prophet sees trouble!
Oh, my twinkling star!
I see a history of growing pains,
Of greedy workers that complain!
While they hoard their wealth,
And steal everything with stealth,
They forget the One
Who holds the biggest gun.
So the all-seeing one stopped loving them,
And sent me to teach this tricky lesson:
If you want God’s love,
Always give more than you’ve got,
Always work, shop and spend on God
Make Him so frigging full
That his girth encircles Earth,
And none escapes His warm embrace.
An Economical Love Song, Part 2
My secret love,
Who knows her name?
The games she plays?
So sweet, so tantalizing,
Her mesmerizing glitter,
Her leather, gold and silver,
Her mansions made of sugar,
And daily dinners red with blood,
Legs and breasts and rarest meats—
Who can resist all this?
No one! So, get up, you lazy bums,
Dance to my lady’s drum!
Swing your tools, buy her jewels!
Swing your axes, pay her taxes!
Or King George, her true defender,
Will use his magic
And turn you into stew of rabbit.
Oh, my lady, oh, my lady,
Can you feel her heat?
Move your feet or join the dead,
Feed her fire-breathing dragonhead,
Fill her tanks, turn her cranks,
Stuff the Earth into her maw,
Give her forests to digest,
Watch her fires process and produce—
Endless products, profits, too!!!!!!!
And toil, toil, toil—
And break the savage vice
Of always being happy,
And build yourself a holy paradise.
Our Economy has rules, you fools
So obey your kings and pastors,
Lords and masters,
Bosses, merchants and professors!
Pack your privates in your pants
And learn the wisdom of the ants!
Bend your backs or get a whack!
Respect the scepter, that’s the way,
To work towards our promised pay,
When trickling down from high above,
Comes our legal tender love.
Beavers, lamas, turtles too,
Every tasty beast will earn its love
From God above—
If they learn to bend and pray,
Sacrifice the living day,
Toil and labor for my pay,
Selling lies or building bombs,
It doesn’t matter either way,
But evil love of being lazy,
Hedonism and fornication,
Will never be rewarded,
So, do your job religiously!
Feed our sweet Economy, feed her inner fire,
Make it grow, give her all your energy:
Wood, coal, oil, and radioactive carbs,
Geothermal and solar electricity,
Fire, fire, flame and fire,
Even Hell has pangs of hunger,
So feed His belly or be devoured!
Workers, slaves and managers,
Bosses, judges and governors,
Perform the civil rituals
Of the religion of Economy,
That leads beyond prosperity
To God’s love for you and me.
These powerful and inspirational verses inspired the savages to quit Satan’s party and begin working for God’s love by transforming all the wild places into an image of Heaven so that God would feel at home on Earth. They flattened forests, dammed rivers, built mills, and planted grass, and God was pleased with their progress, for it made him marvelously rich.
Satan tried to sleep, but the progress of civilization disturbed her favorite nightmares, so she hatched a plan to ruin everything. First, she tortured King George by holding a mirror in front of his face whenever he woke up, sat down to eat or had to relieve himself. When King George was paralyzed with fear, Satan metamorphosed into a revolutionary, dubbed herself “The Evangel of Love” and composed sick and wicked songs that mocked Amerika’s economical habits and promoted the pursuit of pleasure, sharing, laziness, leisure and other sins most foul. Among her hateful and frankly talentless songs was “Chuck Your Civilization!” and “Revolt against the Revolting!” These poorly written, immoral and uninspiring songs led millions of impressionable kids into unimaginable sin, so you’d be wise not to read these verses. But, if you don’t believe in Hell, go ahead.
Chuck Your Civilization
Friends and foes, all tired,
Poor and nervous wrecks,
Let’s recognize our common enemy:
It’s not the foreign alien, it isn’t Satan,
Its secret name is Civilization.
You know it well, it is your Hell,
So let us all unite and chuck it!
Chuck that piece of shit!
And when we’re done,
Let’s build the new world order,
Free of leaders barking orders,
Brilliant green and without borders!
With courage and imagination,
We can create a better fate,
A warm and kind economy,
Green with love and harmony,
Free of bosses and professors,
Free of lawyers and employers,
Free of gods and governments,
Free of prices, clocks and rulers,
Free of fees and TVs,
And most of all,
Free of the fire-breathing beast,
The all-consuming and bipolar
Predator who sips its tea
And calls itself Civility.
Revolt against the Revolting
Rise up, all lovers of the living universe!
Rise and be united, not divided!
Stop competing for your master’s curse,
For the pile of dust and sand,
And things much worse!
Stop slaving for the beast!
He charges you for everything,
And makes you do the very things
That make you curse and sick.
Rise up, all lovers of the living universe!
Rise up and now divorce
The life-destroying force
That always needs more energy
And suck the life from your body.
Rise up, all lovers of the living universe!
Love your bodies and the Earth!
Reject God’s wicked gifts!
Return his hollow souls to him!
Don’t place your trust in them!
They can’t buy eternal life above,
Any more than paper dollars,
Can buy an ounce of wisdom
Or a day of love.
Now if King George
Howls, “It’s time for war!”
Or calls you a filthy whore,
Plant love’s seeds and nuts into his eye,
And build a new world order,
Free from worry, debt and orders,
Full of summers filled with fucking,
Gags and clowning, very funny:
So sings the mortal of the future,
Who gladly gives her life and body
To nourish and enliven Nature.
The naïve early Amerikans fell for these slanderous lies and foulest temptations, so the worst sinners were chased straight into Hell by God in the form of a huge, howling wolf.
Somehow, God couldn’t frighten the natives into being lovers of God and civilization, so God decided that the best way to punish Amerika was to turn it into a democracy. So, King George, who was now blind, toothless and nearly deaf, fell off the throne and declared that he would run against Satan for the presidency.
Amerikans loved the idea. Everyone had their own opinions, but Satan and George always made the other seem like the Devil in disguise, and neither of them really knew anything about the economic challenges involved in running a civil democracy, so people weren’t quite sure who to vote for and their minds changed from day to day. At last, in a desperate attempt to win more votes, King George went on a coast-to-coast tour and here and there he promised that he would build a rosy future of political and economic equality. The people couldn’t quite imagine what he meant, but they loved hearing him talk about it.
Unfortunately, Satan was the better politician. She promised more. Much more! She even promised a future without work and guaranteed everyone access to free homes, healthy foods, real orgasms, year-long vacations and early retirements. Of course, it was all lies, but do you think anyone dared to question the possibility of paradise? They didn’t dare, so you can guess what kind of disaster occurred on Election Day: every woman, child, slave and criminal voted for Satan!
After his dismal loss, God turned George into a cuddly bunny and made him his personal pet before he buried him in England, beside his mother, but that’s of no concern to you or I. The important thing is that President Satan was a typical politician because she lied, but unlike typical politicians she lied for good. In short, she broke all her promises and forced everyone to build the greatest civilization on Earth, so that by the grace of God, Amerika was transformed into a giant Disneyland of fun jobs, great stores and amazing entertainments. Under her management, the government became so rich that she built the nation’s capital from scratch. It was raised on the Forest of Flowers and she named it Wasatan Dark City. Every day millions of angels, fairies, gods and goddesses had millions of parties in Wasantan. In short, Amerika became awesome and the whole world looked on in envy.
But all good things blow up, so eventually a young, spoiled and lazy generation of Amerikans demanded less work, fewer bills and more love. Of course, that’s not how love works. But, since they refused to stop praying for change, God sent them the Prophet of Love and the Great Illuminati, Chuck Bollocks.