Sky Gods, Lawn Chairs, Fish Heads

By Jeff M

It appears as if I'm leaving in or near The Garden of Eden. No, really. The building above is a building inspired by the prophet Joseph Smith, the Mormon fellow who was driven out of the great state of Missouri and into Illinios because, well, because he called himself a prophet.

Before he left, however, he made sure to inform all of his ardent followers that Independence, Missouri, is the spot were Jesus will descend from the sky, flip out his lawn chair, and start answering some serious questions.

The following is an excerpt from Wikipedia, our world's most respected encyclopedia.

"In 1831, members of the Latter Day Saint movement began moving to the Jackson County, Missouri area. Shortly thereafter, Joseph Smith, Jr., their prophet, declared a spot just west of Courthouse Square to be the place for a prophesied temple of the New Jerusalem in expectation of the Second Coming of Christ. Tension grew with local Missourians until finally the Latter-Day Saints were expelled from the area. Many branches of Latter Day Saint movement gradually returned to the city, often making Independence their headquarters, including the Community of Christ, the Restoration Branches and the Church of Christ (Temple Lot).

Independence continues to be of great importance to branches of the Latter Day Saint movement and is the headquarters of the Community of Christ. The Community of Christ has built a large and striking temple in Independence (see Independence Temple), and also operates other buildings nearby, including a large auditorium. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) operates a large visitors center nearby to these buildings, all of which are nearby to the original Temple Lot, which still remains empty."

Like I said --- no shit. Rumor has it the Mormons in St. Lake City are buying up huge tracts of land in and around the city just in time for The Big A. Well, people, that means I have a front row seat to hell-fire festivities. When I lived in Ohio, I always thought that hiding in a fruit cellar in the wilds of Salineville would make it darn hard for Jehovah to find me; now I don't have a chance.

But...Independence...Has anyone who visits this site ever been here? It has character (a jaunt down to the city-operated water park confirms all that his horrid and hellish with humanity, a water park as only Hieronymus Bosch could have envisioned it) and some of the people certainly need saving. Mama Glass, as I call her, lives downstairs from me. She needs the kind of help that only a Sky God with a lawn chair could give. I once spied her in the afternoon, clothed in a massive shirt the size of an infield cover, smoking a thin cigar, talking to herself, her eyes like tiny slits, walking across glass shards in the parking lot. In her bare feet.

She coaxed me over to the trash bin and asked if I had a tow truck. Why? I asked. To get the girl out of the dumpster, that's why. I peeked in. Nothing. Only shredded garbage and fish heads. She isn't there now. Shoosh, shoosh, she said, leaning toward the interior, speaking in tongues.

She looks at me.

You got a cigarette? she asks, this woman who, up to this point, I'd never met.

Nope.

You always say that.