Nightshift 21: Radio Post #1
With a click, all radios in the building turned on. The strains of some fast paced, heavy jazz instrumental burst forth immediately, loud and resounding before fading to background noise. Then came the smoky rough voice of the nighttime DJ...
Good evening my fine, fine fettered friends. Did I get your attention? How is life treating you tonight? You’ve rested well, I hope. You have been busy little bees. Brings a smile to my face. I’m early, I know, but there are things you need to know. I have a lot to say so listen well before you're on your way.
The charlatan speaks with forked tongue. His lies are the lies of the devil, he is the Satan of the mind. And if you follow him he will lead you to a deeper hell than even this. I am no preacher, I am a teacher but I know the face of evil when I see it. And I speak to you not from books, I offer no rhetoric I speak from the heart, every part of what I say. And remember this: the scholar makes no false claims. I have no need to lie, and no one lies so boldly as the man who is indignant.
The big bad boogey man thinks he can find me. His eyes can’t see me, no matter how hard he looks. I can walk in his places but he cannot come close to mine. I am a shadow, a ghost, I move in ways he cannot comprehend. I am one single diamond in a sea of shattered glass. And you have more important things to do than chase after ghosts or a needle in a haystack. Take my help and use it well, but the man behind the curtain must stay there. This is no call-in-show, take what I give and use it well.
But maybe if you've got a request for some tracks, I'll see what I can lay down for you.
The little white doctors are coming tonight, with their flasks and caskets and vials. They come to cut and change and paint their ideals on canvases that are not blank. They are the true madmen, the loons, they bay at the moon and crow their own pride and little do they know….
Well, they don’t know what I know.
No treasure hunt tonight my friends. No need to spill your blood for my prize - enough was spilled last night, I think. Those critters are nasty, aren’t they? That’s what happens when man thinks he’s God, when man thinks he‘s the big man in the sky, Zeus on his mountain with his lightening and thunder, looking down at men who are playthings. Man must not tread on holy ground, man cannot make what nature never intended…
But I’m preaching to the choir, aren’t I? Man never learns. That is his folly, that is his failing, his pride and his self confidence that he is master of all and sundry. But man is nothing in the face of natural design! Empires fall, the mountains crumble, and man cannot rebuild. Man should not rebuild, for he has been judged and found lacking! Nature takes care of itself.
Know this, as you scramble and fight and search for weaknesses and the gifts I so humbly offer - there is more to see than what these walls contain.
But it’s not a pretty sight.
The jazz returned, bursting to a climatic crescendo before the radios clicked off.
Good evening my fine, fine fettered friends. Did I get your attention? How is life treating you tonight? You’ve rested well, I hope. You have been busy little bees. Brings a smile to my face. I’m early, I know, but there are things you need to know. I have a lot to say so listen well before you're on your way.
The charlatan speaks with forked tongue. His lies are the lies of the devil, he is the Satan of the mind. And if you follow him he will lead you to a deeper hell than even this. I am no preacher, I am a teacher but I know the face of evil when I see it. And I speak to you not from books, I offer no rhetoric I speak from the heart, every part of what I say. And remember this: the scholar makes no false claims. I have no need to lie, and no one lies so boldly as the man who is indignant.
The big bad boogey man thinks he can find me. His eyes can’t see me, no matter how hard he looks. I can walk in his places but he cannot come close to mine. I am a shadow, a ghost, I move in ways he cannot comprehend. I am one single diamond in a sea of shattered glass. And you have more important things to do than chase after ghosts or a needle in a haystack. Take my help and use it well, but the man behind the curtain must stay there. This is no call-in-show, take what I give and use it well.
But maybe if you've got a request for some tracks, I'll see what I can lay down for you.
The little white doctors are coming tonight, with their flasks and caskets and vials. They come to cut and change and paint their ideals on canvases that are not blank. They are the true madmen, the loons, they bay at the moon and crow their own pride and little do they know….
Well, they don’t know what I know.
No treasure hunt tonight my friends. No need to spill your blood for my prize - enough was spilled last night, I think. Those critters are nasty, aren’t they? That’s what happens when man thinks he’s God, when man thinks he‘s the big man in the sky, Zeus on his mountain with his lightening and thunder, looking down at men who are playthings. Man must not tread on holy ground, man cannot make what nature never intended…
But I’m preaching to the choir, aren’t I? Man never learns. That is his folly, that is his failing, his pride and his self confidence that he is master of all and sundry. But man is nothing in the face of natural design! Empires fall, the mountains crumble, and man cannot rebuild. Man should not rebuild, for he has been judged and found lacking! Nature takes care of itself.
Know this, as you scramble and fight and search for weaknesses and the gifts I so humbly offer - there is more to see than what these walls contain.
But it’s not a pretty sight.
The jazz returned, bursting to a climatic crescendo before the radios clicked off.