The pattern is clear to me as it worked for Mormons, worked for Muhammed, etc, etc. Write a book and forevermore be regarded as The Prophet. Therefore, I claim my title as the Prophet of the Abandoned Paradise and the Talking Dogs.
I do not have a ring so you will have to substitute kissing my ass but don't worry, it's holy.
The infidel, Reverend Silas T Sasquatch, is a usurper, a rapscallion, and a very bad comedian. I will have him killed.
In the beginning there were talking dogs and we walked with them about the Earth, sharing their guidance and intuitive knowledge, their great gifts of compassion and their knowledge of deep love and loyalty, and all of the things that helped us as we grew to dominion over the entire planet.
In time the civilization grew and dogs became animals that were toys rather than guides and they were thrown into suburban backyards where they bark and bark endlessly in loneliness, all but the very few have stopped talking in their sadness.
Humanity now wanders aimlessly, sometimes building things, mostly destroying things, and sits around in fear as it waits for the Thing That Will Kill Us All.
But the dogs know. They always did. Verily, if thou shalt go forth and treat animals like friends rather than a noise-making pain in the ass in the backyard, then shall the truth be revealed. Once again we shall find our direction together.
So sayeth the Prophet of the Abandoned Paradise and the Talking Dogs.
I do not have a ring so you will have to substitute kissing my ass but don't worry, it's holy.
The infidel, Reverend Silas T Sasquatch, is a usurper, a rapscallion, and a very bad comedian. I will have him killed.
In the beginning there were talking dogs and we walked with them about the Earth, sharing their guidance and intuitive knowledge, their great gifts of compassion and their knowledge of deep love and loyalty, and all of the things that helped us as we grew to dominion over the entire planet.
In time the civilization grew and dogs became animals that were toys rather than guides and they were thrown into suburban backyards where they bark and bark endlessly in loneliness, all but the very few have stopped talking in their sadness.
Humanity now wanders aimlessly, sometimes building things, mostly destroying things, and sits around in fear as it waits for the Thing That Will Kill Us All.
But the dogs know. They always did. Verily, if thou shalt go forth and treat animals like friends rather than a noise-making pain in the ass in the backyard, then shall the truth be revealed. Once again we shall find our direction together.
So sayeth the Prophet of the Abandoned Paradise and the Talking Dogs.
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