Jehovah, Chess, and Knee Cancer!

With those old tired timbre frames, and cobblestones of urine, does the spirit wane and lament by its intolerable sadness, damp slippery cobblestone steps leading to odorous latrines dug in beside the dank imperial canal. A great tonnage of world sweat had no doubt toiled up and down the canal in bygone days of prosperous magician like tradesman. Where once industry flexed its incorruptible secrets, swan's now sashay by in squadrons of tired adolescence and hopeful bread lusting. The canal pierced the main commercial street, leading to North Canal Street and South Canal Street; the buildings in the North area belonged to an age of antiquity, a time of romance and austere protestant logic, when horse and carriage trundled absent minded across the then much smaller and rather inauspicious canal bridge. Above the renovated shop fronts with their majestic promises of bargains and discounts, signs of old town were clearly visible in the tired facades of brick and black wood, a dead beat weary skull upon a vigorous plastic bulk. South side was affectionately known as New Town, because even in the night rain the refulgent tram trundled treacherously along flat pavements then turning sharply so as not to plunge over the bridge and into the canal, the tram with its metallic tremor rattled its bulk away from town round and bound toward the old street station. North Street still had gas lanterns swaying haphazardly in the dull grey winds, South Street had palatial electric mounted bulbs to go with the electric tram. Shadows that were possibly people hustled and hurried to no place in particular, as the rain fell forming torrents and gurgling sadly along road side gutters; through the cold streets and away to some subterranean mystery. A bright green light shone in the distance, a sign hung belatedly on a wall, swinging softly in the breeze and rain. Inside the café Iskra, jazz music humbled softly through the air, sweet lounge jazz that nobody heard and nobody disliked; there was very little room, old chairs and old tables stood shouldering each other for levity, in the far corner there stood a stout wooden bar, tended by a stout mahogany faced women; she was ageless and silently wiped the bar top with a dirty old rag; she smiled at the musty old men in their decrepit lowness and forgotten limbs go creaking to the bar, and smoke curls and curious artist girls, making portraits with their denizen eyes, two tall, pallid men sat not playing chess in front of a chess board, one scratching his knee, the other smoking a grand meerschaum pipe.
'It is raining, why do Cities attract so much bad weather?'
'I have never really understood cities'
'Yes but the bad weather, what it is?'
'I should think it is a seasonal thing!' he said puffing softly and happily upon his pipe.
'No it is the city, it is magnet for horror strange abysmal gatherings' he fidgeted in his damp jumper 'your okay, you missed the rain, I was nearly drowned out there!' he glanced fearfully at the entrance, the door was shut, yet the front façade of the café was a long window, with the words 'café Iskra' scrawled in red across it; a notice for a cleaner hung sadly in one corner; he returned his mind to the chess game.
'I should think so' he said now inspecting his position on the board. 'It is your move'
'I think all this is going to become too much for me (he moved a piece) I should think I shall probably lunge into the canal'
'Yes I should think you might'
'Did you hear me, do you hear me; I am sick of this, I am tired and lonely and I want to hurt a poor little animal, I want to kick a child in the teeth?' he fretted in damp dismal hate for absolutely everything he never possessed.
'You can not change the weather'
'No, but this damned city, this weather is changing me! With its solid obstinate self egoistic masturbatory edifices to some great species lust for construction, no truly I tell you I have never understood cities, never!'
'Me neither!'
'I think the point is, you are not required to comprehend, footpaths, pedestrian hordes endless shop fronts, cars, rats, sewage and office towers, the point about cities is that we are supposed to be bewildered, it is enough that we participate in the carnival, it is not necessary that we scrutinize it! I feel nothing in this infinite bright light city, nothing' he moaned as he savagely scratched his knee.
'What about observation?'
'What about observation? What about anything, what is there to observe?'
'Well, is not to observe a means of understanding?' he said happily.
'What is there to see, dog shit and whores?'
'Human nature?' he whispered sagely, as if the very phrase was a cure in itself. His companion ignored him.
'The very fact that the city is in its last agonies excites me, but it is infinite truly, unless we obliterate, all we need do is administer a suitable death blow, but first we must reconnoitre and note its weaknesses,'
'Still there is no logic in attacking these 'strange abysmal gatherings' as you term it, revenge against the city is futile'
'Revenge is the only thing a sensible human being has left'
'Revenge is for gods and kings, mere men should make do with obeisance!'
'Maybe, just maybe revenge will not offer ultimate succour (he mumbled as he moved a piece and scratched his beard) but it will certainly assuage the immediate taste of helplessness, damn this miserable town, I think I am going to kidnap someone, I can feel it.'
'It is in our very nature to be helpless, all effort is futile' He remarked softly as he gently sipped from his steaming cup. Outside the rain poured, the people passed in hurried anticipation of nothing, and a lonely dog, tied to a lamp post wailed and howled abysmally.
'Helpless like a pit viper I am helpless, oh dear lord I think I have cancer of the knee, you laugh, but there is a lump (he whined sadly, no one noticed no one cared) a lump on my knee (for a moment his head fell, his long greasy black hair fell onto the board, a whimper could be heard from beneath) but revenge now (he sprang upright with a sudden febrile intensity glowing in his tired eyes) it is certainly, it is a great deal more congenial than turning the other cheek. Yes I am well aware we should all follow Jesus' example, but he was the '...the only begotten son of Jehovah God...' do you not think that with the strength of knowledge that you can forgive sins, walk on water, your dad is a bloody god; my father was a dentist, that little shit Jesus had a god; is a god, is not a god, I do not care, I have knee cancer (he whimpered pathetically) there is no comparison; now if you can resurrect the dead and ultimately rule a Kingdom in Heaven; do you not think that Jesus by turning the other cheek was merely humouring his adversaries, if I did that today, they would steal my pancreas, the little bastards' he glanced over his shoulder suspiciously at the street, dark and wet, he coughed sadly.
'Yes but what has Jesus and cities to do with each other?'
'He condoned them'
'Excuse me!'
'By flouncing like a flower, by prancing like a sailor with two smiling rent boys on each arm, he sashayed into them, and sanctifying them with his teaching, he basically said, all cities are places of worship, Jesus invented city adulation; he invented gratuitous appeasement'
'But he was Jesus; he condoned the whole earth, not merely cities'
'Look here, I mean, if I had the innate gifts of Jesus, if I were the son of a god, choose which ever one you like'
'There is only one God'
'Then why so many religions, why so many versions of the bible; you're a religious person tell me?'
'Some are wrong (he began hesitantly) and my faith is right'
'But they say you are wrong, and they are right; has gone sent you a telegram, did you actually say to you "you are right, they are wrong, well done no he did not'
'But the elders at my congregation tell me¦'
'What, what do they tell you; did god send them a telegram saying "speak for me, yes go right ahead sunshine tell the morons what I really meant to say oh and whilst your speaking for me, cut out pieces of the bible you don't like, I rushed the bloody thing anyway did he do that, no he did not'
'That is blasphemy and I will not stand for it, I don't like what you are saying'
'So forgive me, turn the other cheek, don't revenge a god that does not believe in revenge; seriously my point is if there is one god as you claim, then who worships him?'
'We do, my congregation'
'You are not listening, but other denominations say the same thing; they say you are wrong, you are sinners, do you not see what it means?' he implored desperately, as he scratched his knee.
'I suppose I do not really know for certain; but I have chosen my congregation and I shall just stick it out'
'But if you are wrong, you shall stick it out, until the end of everything, and then for all your years of worship you get punished for worshipping a false god'
'Well (he became flustered and a little confused as he thought it through in his mind) I am sure we are right'
'Of course, you're all right, everybody is right, that's why there can't be one god. Now if I had super powers like Jesus, if I had a god as a father, I tell you this I would be a great deal more willing to turn the other cheek. However since I am incapable of walking on water and through walls, I say revenge constitutes a healthy disrespect for this system of things!' he said calmly, observing the board. Both men sat in quiet contemplation for a short time.
'But Jesus never took revenge upon his adversaries; he was nailed to wood and died a terrible death' he said puffing hesitantly on his pipe.
'Pah! If I had the ability to re-animate dead matter, and thus promise you a resurrection dying is nothing if you can turn water into wine' he said not looking up from the board. Two women greeted each other outside, their high pitched nonsensical jabbering penetrated the jazz quiet of the café, but the women soon moved along.
'I think you are missing the point'
'Possibly, I have missed so many points in my life; I admit that, but you are listening only to those who tell you exactly and precisely what you want to hear, and ignoring those that do not, now listen to me, listen to me! Was it resurrection or re-incarnation?'
'It was resurrection of course' smiled his friend feeling that now he had him; for he was adamant it was resurrection and felt quite comfortable in discussing it openly, he sucked happily on his pipe. The think hazy swirls danced away into the almost murky gloom of the happy talkative café air.
'So Jesus was as you and I, flesh, cold and horrible flesh' he whined excitedly, the dog outside in the rain stopped howling, he moved a piece.
'Yes but with peculiar gifts, so my point being¦'
'So he was not a man?'
'No, he was flesh and bone as you and I. check!'
'But men do not have peculiar gifts (he said glancing at his position sullenly) if I tried to walk on water I should bloody drown, do you not see; how would you define resurrection?'
'Well, dying as a man and coming back a man' he said feeling somewhat anxious and irritable with his companion, he surveyed the board as sanguinely as possible.
'So you perish as say, A and you return as A?'
'Yes, you are the same!'
'How would you define re-incarnation?'
'Well, you die as lawyer and come back as a snake'
'So you die as A and come back as Z?'
'Yes, yes but my point is- '
'Did Jesus return as flesh?'
'For a time yes, but he was essentially an angelic being, but my point is - '
'So was he flesh or angelic?'
'Flesh; because he died as flesh, he was resurrected!'
'So afterwards, to prove he was not flesh, he could walk through walls, and disappear from the very eyes of men'
'Yes he was angelic, yes but, he was flesh for a bit, then an angle¦.'
'Can you hear, can you hear your own doublethink, dear lord? So did Jesus display these abilities before his apparent death?'
'There is no apparent about it'
'Yes but did he walk through walls before-'
'No but he walked on water!'
'So was he flesh or angelic on earth before his apparent death?'
'There is no apparent about it, he died, but had abilities'
'Listen here, you see it makes no sense, does it? He was flesh, but angelic, he was angelic but flesh, its all interpretation, your faith does not even believe in the holy trinity and many others do; your faith does not believe Jesus was a god, others do. I do not care who is right or wrong, no one really cares, they just like to go to churches or halls and have easy friends. My point is if you are wrong, and Jesus is a god you are not going to heaven, you are in trouble (he looked at his companions face) and you are growing angry'
'Well yes because you are confusing me'
'I am not, it is your faith, I am merely pointing out contrary aspects of faith, I have made nothing up'
'Yes but, no, well you see I don't care, I shall keep my faith and just wait and see'
'Well if you told me it was that scientific I should have remained silent along while ago ( he said light heartedly, both men sensing their own absurdity, and the fondness they shared for each other smiled affably.) well it still makes no sense (He suddenly rubbed his knee) its cancer, I tell you, cancer!' He said in dread tones
'But my point is, look it is a fine thing to have faith who cares who is right ultimately, but believing in God helps me'
'My sisters son helps me, does not make him divine!'
'They are quite contrary things!'
'He can barely spell his own name, bless him, he thinks he's a pigeon (he paused thoughtfully) my sister has always had thick children, I guess it is a blessing I never had any, really'
'Sorry, I have no idea what you are saying to me'
'Oh my meaning is this that what is my meaning? (A long reflective mutual silence followed, he smoked his pipe and examined the board, his companion scratched his knee and looked pensive; a car horn wailed outside) ha, yes! Now I say to you, I am the saviour (his companion groaned deeply) bare me out. Now as your saviour, I want you to go down to the valley below, irritate some local officials, agitate some fishermen; and being random bums yourself, I want you to be suddenly articulate and literate, then after much toil, get a sound thumping because of your mischief but always be aware (he pointed his finger as if it were a wand or secret weapon of power) I will resurrect you and give you dominion over those who persecuted, you shall have this dominion for all eternity, would you be in the least bit afraid or have any doubts after a promise like that?'
'Of course not'
'Indeed so was Jesus' willingness to abandon the gift of revenge such magnificent example? No, so our usage of revenge is not so un reasonable given we do not have such gifts from God'
'I suppose so'
'Exactly so who cares about his re-incarnation, I say punish the wicked and the meek, what people fail to understand is that the meek are the problem!'
'Check mate!'