Thursday, December 19, 2013

Eso’s Chronicles 256/ Act 1
Addend 16—Adam Adamnovich
Act 1 cont.
© Eso A.B.
Chorus: What happened then?
You are still here!
Your heart still beats within you.
Adam: The four maids. They saved me.
As priesteses of the Sun,
it was their’s to sacrifice me.
But when the time came,
They spread my legs and said:
‘We want now to hear you scream!’
And they cut off my balls.
The male priests about guffawed.
They had never witnessed it done before.
They appreciated the maids’ wit.
Because temple rules said that a man without testes
is not acceptable to the Sun,
they left me alive.
Chorus: But the maids bore you children.
Did they not?
Adam: Yes, two sons and two daughters.
But the priests ruled that because I went free,
These would be sacrificed in my stead.
The maids, now mothers all, were furious
and swore revenge.
To help cure me of my loss,
they brought before me lowly peasant men
and had them swear to them and me
the oath to the Sun
(I am a man of my testes
Sworn to be faithful to you, Nanauatzina, even unto death),
then had them fuck them before my eyes
until my Other was cured and
knew to stand again.
Chorus (left): How could you watch?
Adam: It made me young again!
As that old painter Picasso knew so well.
Story teller: And so it was. While Adam Adamnovich is from the Black Sea area and the worshippers of the Sun are from around the Baltic Sea (Alas! Almost all of them have by now forgotten their halo and Sun-fire embraced forebears…), who sailed not only to the seas of the South, but also navigated far West to the lands of the Feathered Serpent.
The Feathered Serpent, Quetzacoatl of the Aztecs, who are forebears to today’s Mexican people, who, too, have forgot their Sun gods , was feathered in goose feathers. This is how—though argued by our submissive historians as being untrue, though few deny that their testes are in the grasp of modern ‘democratic’ governments—the ‘Greeks’ and the ‘Balts’ discovered America long before the usurping West sent the pirate Columbus to discover what had never been lost except it was substituted by the chutzpah of the armored God Huitzilopochtli , born by his own goose feathered hand. Not surprisingly, this story was later denied, and it is now said that he was born of a virgin, into whose lap God drifted down as a down feather, only to seize our planet by storm the moment he was born.
Another name of the Aztec Sun is Nanauatl (Nanauatzin) or Tonatuih, though I would ad to each of these names the vowel ‘a’, making read Huitzilopochtla, Nanauatla (Nanauatzina) and Tonatuiha. The last makes the Moon Goddess (known as Mehnesnihca in Latvian) a true ‘smoking mirror’, the smoke but a reflection of clouds driven by the Goddess of the Winds, Eve (Ehecatla) or Vehya (as the Latvians had her).
In any event, the birth of Huitzilopochtli is but the story of the birth of Jesus, who, too, was born of a down feather drifting into the lap of Mary. How so, you want to know? Don’t you know that the Egyptian Gods Atum, Ptah, and Osiris came into our world by their own hands, which were dressed in bird down by the Sun, when She waved her winged legs over Osiris’ unresponding body part, which one of the four Aztec priesteses had just relieved Adam of?
Adam: For all that, our world was not to be. Just as the government of Latvia today hides thousands of names of KGB agents, because the names of its own are among them, so the National Security Agencies of governments everywhere keep the mouths of writers shut and their computer keyboards print ‘different sets for different lets’.
Chetseri (dirty dream team): The globalizers, Christians,
Came to Latvia….
They killed our Johns, Adams Adamnoviches,
And made the children of our apple trees orphans.
Chorus (left) (sings): Maza biju neredzēju,
kur gulēja tēvs, māmulīņ….
Chorus (right) (sings): Nu uzgāju ganīdama,
kur gulēja tēvs, māmulīņ….
Chorus (together): Pie ābeles piespiedos,
Kā pie savas māmuliņ’s.
Birzt ābelei balti ziedi,
Birst man gaužas asaras.
Translator: I was too young to know
When or where father and mother died…
Now, as I herd the sheep,
I discover their graves.
I press to the wild apple tree,
as if she were my mother.
While the apple sheds
white blossoms, I shed bitter tears.
(Enter Razhannichka. She runs out of breath)
Ŗa-zhannichka: Uncle Adam, uncle Adam!
My mothers send me.
The President’s body guards and priests are here.
They’ve come to arrest us all,
for planning to sacrifice the government
to our Gods.
Adam: The bastards!
(next: Act 2).

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