—The Isley Brothers, “Who’s That Lady?”

Charles presses print and hears the printer wake up and begin spitting pages. He stretches and shakes himself. I think I’ve finally got it, he thinks. After numerous false starts he’s finally satisfied with his approach to the character of Jesus. Yah, he thinks, pulling a Marlboro from the nearby pack, this is just sacrilegious enough to make them think. Jesus, the son of a rich man! A man who made up stories about his origins because he knew no one would believe the soul of a rich man. It’s just what Chip and I were talking about the other day. Continue reading “4. Screw that lady”

—Grateful Dead, “Brown Eyed Women”

John Mittney, successful hedge fund manager, putative savior of the Olympics, and staunch Republican, put one booted foot up on the square prop hay bale and smiled at the small crowd. “Corporations are people my friend,” he said with a twinkle in his slate blue eyes.

“No, they’re not!” shouted several in the crowd.

“Of course they are,” Mittney said. “Everything corporations earn ultimately goes to people. Where do you think it goes?”

“To the Mormon Church,” screamed one man.

John was taken aback by the outburst. In all the hundreds of political meetings he had attended in this campaign and the one four years ago, nobody had had the temerity to bring up his faith. While Mittney acknowledged that some Mormon beliefs were outside the general Christian mainstream, he was a Christian and had struggled to remove any whiff of scrutiny of his religious beliefs from his political life. Continue reading “5. Clown fried slimmin’ in breath, death unseen / The water was dusted but we licked her up clean”

Fall Out Boy—Bang The Doldrums

Wow, thinks Charles, sitting at his keyboard. Wow, wow, wow! Charles had been stuck for months on a single point in his latest attempt to start his novel: Who is the second witness to the Second Coming? He relentlessly searched on Google to try to get a clue, from the Bible, from the Book of Mormon, from Mandaean scripture, from a host of other minor religions. Continue reading “6. I believe in the rapture, below the waist”

Bob Dylan—She Belongs to Me

Edie rushes at Charles with a demonic look on her face and bearing a battle ax. Charles ducks behind an armoire and Edie splinters it with a single blow. Charles crawls down the stairs on all fours. He can’t get his limbs to work fast enough to keep ahead of the huge, green, wriggling worms controlled by silver leashes bunched in Edie’s grotesque fists. He falls through the landing into a swimming pool of blood. Edie surfaces and grabs him by the neck. “You never loved me!” she screams, exposing six-inch-long fangs. Her gaping mouth moves closer and closer despite Charles’ desperate attempts to fight her off. Just as her jaws close around his dick, Charles wakes with a shout, sitting bolt upright in his bed, shivering and sweating. Continue reading “7. She’s got everything she needs, she’s an artist, she don’t look bad”

Allanah Myles—Black Velvet

Aleister awoke to find his familiar, his wife Rose, at the foot of the bed. She had the faraway eyes that signified a possession. “What is the matter?” he said. He was worried, as she had recently said that she felt she was pregnant.

“There is something you must know,” Rose said. “A being of great power wishes to communicate with you.”

“Can’t he wait until after my breakfast?” Aleister pleaded.

“He comes now.” Rose fainted to the floor and a voice came into the room. To Aleister, it appeared to emanate from a corner of the bedroom. The voice was neither high nor low, but deep, musical and expressive, and spoke unaccented English. Taken aback, Aleister sat upright in bed and clutched the bedclothes to him. Continue reading “8. A new religion that’ll bring you to your knees, like Velveeta Cheese”

Creedence Clearwater Revival—Down on the Corner

Chip and Charles are hanging around Chip’s basement man cave. Chip’s parsonage sat on the edge of a sinkhole and, because of the drop in grade, actually had a walkout basement, unlike the vast majority of Florida houses. The room opened out to a patio underneath the first-floor deck, and thus was partially lit with natural light. The two were sitting across from each other on parallel couches. Between them was a table Chip had made out of an ancient wooden high-tension wire spool upon which he had painted the red N of Nebraska football. On the table are a couple of beers, a basket of Doritos, and a bowl of melted Velveeta, Chip’s favorite snack food, which Charles can barely stomach. The modest flat panel TV is showing a NASCAR race with the sound off. Continue reading “9.  Tell the devil you can freeze hell”

Queen—Another One Bites the Dust

Charles met Steve not long after meeting Edie. One evening Charles was walking by the Mary Reed Building and heard Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 15 in B flat Major being played faster than he had ever heard it before. Curious, he found the piano practice room and stood at the door watching Steve tearing up the keyboard. Steve finished the piece and looked around to see him.

“Wow,” Charles said. “You have some real chops!”

“Naw. I got short fingers and can barely span an octave.”

“Well, you make up for it with speed and fire.” Charles played bass in a jazz band on campus. He had thought their keyboardist was pretty talented, but Steve blew him away. Continue reading “10. Steve walks warily down the street / To the prim pool way aloe / Ain’t no sound but the sound of speed / Machine guns ready go”