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| Fiction: This Is What We Do With Our Time |
Posted by
Geist on Monday, December 16, 2002 - 04:02 AM PST
The Coke Prophets were first discovered in the early Twentieth Century, in a small hotel on the coast of Queensland, Australia. The first prophet, Malcom Fei Jin, was only 18 when he was found, rabid and frothing at the eyes in Room Number 41 of the Queensland Arms in Brisbane.
Caught by the flickering light of a candle, Malcom Fei Jin fell into what can only be termed a holy ecstasy during which he recounted several volumes of prophecy, which have been recorded and now reside in the vaults of the Church of Modern Misconceptions' Main Headquarters. In the next decade before his death in 1932, Malcom Fei Jin managed to write two small diaries of prophecy and Coca Cola wisdom, and to compile another small volume of prophecy which had come to him in small vision sequences after long nights consuming Absinthe and Cocaine. On his deathbed, groaning in agony as he was taken by fever, Malcom Fei Jin spoke his final words to Reverend Spooky Goblin, screaming at the top of his lungs: "The moon is bleeding and the Coke God cometh on Great Curtains of white, but alas! I am gone." And with that final obscure statement, Malcom Fei Jin twisted into a rope-like state, and croaked his last gasp.
Jasper Kali was found that same year, rocking on his heels in the marketplace, his empty bottle of Coke between his knees, humming a tune which would later be used in many Coca Cola Advertisements. Jasper Kali spoke no words during his short lifetime as a Coke Prophet, and was instead was responsible for the small musical notations in the vaults of the Church of Modern Misconceptions' Main Headquarters, as well as several slim diaries of thoughts and visions he saw while two large prostitutes beat him severely with lengths of sugar cane in an attempt for him to come to know the Coke God's messages with more ease. Pouring bottles of coke onto his wounds helped him to fall into the typical prophetic stupor which has so consumed the Coke Prophets since their early beginnings.
Jasper Kali died in 1937, at the age of 56, beaten a little too severely by the then prostitute, Anna Dali Lim, who, during one session, succumbed to the prophetic ecstasy which infects these poor vessels. Beating him, she blacked out, and when she woke from her visions, some fourteen hours later, she found herself still beating the now dead Jasper Kali with a very reduced length of sugar cane. After penning her visions, Anna Dali Lim was convicted of First Degree Murder, and sentenced to death. Despite the Church's intervention, she was hanged on the 17th of April, 1938, only 18 years of age.
Nothing more was heard of the Coke Prophets until 1946 when, from the ashes of war, Khanda Li, an enigmatic poet appeared in a cafe in downtown Sydney, his face painted with his own blood to resemble something dragged through mud and sewer refuse. Shortly after his arrest, he fell into a comatose state, from which he awoke into the realms of prophetic visions. Placed into the Church of Modern Misconceptions' care, Khanda Li was responsible for over twenty large volumes of prophecy and vision interpretation, and for several leather-bound volumes of his own personal writings and even a small list of shopping goods, which he gave to a naive young priest, who mistakenly thought it a piece of visionary wisdom, and placed it in with the rest of Khanda Li's works.
Khanda Li died in 1957, choking on a cabbage and tomato relish sandwich. His final gasped word was: Purple. It is rumored that should we understand why this was his final word, we might find the key to several volumes of his more cryptic works.
In 1958, Jenna Mas Verkat burst into the Church of Modern Misconceptions office in Melbourne, and demanded to be allowed to fall into a fit of prophetic ecstasy, to which aging Reverend Spooky Goblin said, "If it please you, young lady, you may fall anywhere you like, but please consider my age and health, and not fall into my arms."
Jenna Mas Verkat spent a successful eleven years as a Coke Prophet, recording large volumes of prophetic wisdom, and providing the Church with several diaries of her own, as well as several books of contemporary poetry, which she penned under the assumed name of, Cynthia Charles.
Unfortunately, Jenna Mas Verkat's outspoken behavior caused much trouble for the Church, even during the relatively early years of free love and self-expression. In 1969, at the height of her prophetic powers, Jenna Mas Verkat was hit by a large blunt object thrown at her from the crowd. Tragically, she never recovered from the blow, and her final words were spoken that day, as she lay on the concrete in a shallow pool of her own blood, her eyes glazing over prettily. "What, in all the seventeen Hells was that?"
It was 1981 before another prophet appeared, by this time, the aged Reverend Spooky Goblin had passed away, and now the Church was made up of a small group of individuals who were responsible for the daily running of the Church until a new founder could be discovered. The search only managed to shake a small and mischievous little man from his area under a bridge in Perth, where he lived surrounded by empty Coke Cans and shiny bottles polished to perfection. Diago, the Rabid, was responsible for burning several large buildings, assaulting minors, majors, and fifths, in a rampage that lasted twelve minutes. After which, he succumbed to the prophetic wisdom of the Coke God, and lay down several small volumes of enraged rambling prophecy, which has confused scholars in the Church of Modern Misconceptions for over fifteen years. Hanging himself in his cell, Diago, The Rabid, echoed the execution of Anna Dali Lim even in that his final words spoken to young priest-in-training, Polecat the Mean, "I think I'd like to hang around here for a while. It's a nice prison. Good grub. Want my coke collection?"
Polecat the Mean provided the Church with the large collection of Coke Cans and bottles, and also with a small personal diary of his time spent with the awkward little prophet, who died in his cell in 1982, at only 17 years of age.
Then, in 1998, just two years after the larger-than-life Creepy Reverend Ghoul took over the Church of Modern Misconceptions, the latest prophet, Frederick Joran Vei was found wandering the suburbs of Perth, a small bottle of coke in one hand, and a blank piece of paper in the other. Since this time, Frederick has provided the Church with over seventeen small volumes of prophecy and insight. His work is still being collected, and even today, he spends most of his time consuming amphetamine and alcohol in an attempt to further develop his prophetic powers. His usual diet, consisting of coca cola is his only break with dedication, and it is with pride that we, the Church of Modern Misconceptions acknowledge the Coke Prophets for their sacrifices that will, in the future, benefit us all.
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| This Is What We Do With Our Time | Login/Create an account | 6 Comments |
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Re: This Is What We Do With Our Time
by Merry_Widow on Dec 17, 2002 - 06:25 PM
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Now I'm even more worried about the Coca Cola logo I have embroidered on my work uniform.
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Re: This Is What We Do With Our Time
by Dolorosa (SixOfSwords@IU.zzn.com)
on Dec 18, 2002 - 01:39 AM
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Hmm...I say "yes", as well as "Neat". Although it took me a second to grok the whole thing ya' know...kinda' reminds me of William Burroughs style...albiet a very personalized and unique take on things...Honestly made me think, and I don't do a lot of thinking these days...heh.
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Re: This Is What We Do With Our Time
by Geist on Dec 18, 2002 - 07:56 PM
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Thanks everyone, never thought this would actually get posted. Woohoo ! I'm 1 for 1 on submissions !
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Re:ward your curiosity
by Monolycus on Dec 19, 2002 - 06:12 PM
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Very neatly assembled history of the prophets. Great job!
~Monolycus.
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