My parents told me I was a Catholic, I did not like the concept of priests and sacraments, so I looked around for something else and took up with Islam, at about age thirty two twenty eight years ago.

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For me Islam consists entirely of reading the Koran from time to time, once or twice per week on average, and endeavoring to live by the precepts therein, I have never been inside a Mosque, I do not know which direction Mecca is from home nor do I ever expect to go there.

One day I took a guess and could have been around ninety degrees off, I started out for Mecca and wound up in Mexico City, the Koran tells believers to "hurl truth at falsehood," I do just that ..911 was an inside job.

The irony is seeing the vast numbers of the faithful attending the pilgrimage every year, yet they don't find the time to do as it says and hurl truth, else there would be truth all over the internet, so what kind of Moslems are they, fair weather sailors is probably an apt description, else I have missed something.

Similarly I do not evangelize in favor of Islam, and what others believe or choose to disbelieve is their business entirely, it does mean that when I prosecute abortion under the capital strictures described in the Koran, all the guilty will be sentenced under Islamic law whether they are Moslems or not.

Feedback: People that stereotype us as having one mindset, I personally like smirking at gas stations filling up my expensive car with premium fuel, while you are barely getting by with your ecomobile.

Reply: That's a vapid response from someone claiming to be a Moslem, the Koran warns against those whose pleasure is in contemplating their magnificent possessions, horseflesh in the Prophet's day... expensive cars today.

Similarly the Koran tells readers to, "hurl truth at falsehood, so that it breaks its head and vanishes," so where do y'all hurl truth at falsehood,

As for your assertion that those with more modest auto's, should feel envy when they see you filling your prestige car at the servo, I ride a bike and do not want your fuel, insurance or registration bill either!

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When Mario Andretti fuels up the Daytona Special I guess you must hide your head in shame at the spectacle, and how dowdy your Porshe or BMW must look beside his magnificent machine,

You have an identity crisis which is a symptom of a far more serious malaise, you want to share in the Moslem reception in the afterlife, however you make no move toward obeying the basic requirement that you refrain from undue pride in material possessions.

I have a cat I reckon he is great he is ruthless toward rats however the magpies and herons go unmolested, does not mean that I envy someone with a pet leopard, or a tiger, nor do I suggest hamster owners should know remorse, that is because I am well adjusted, I hurl truth.

911 was an inside job, the perpetrators are hidden out among the Zionist cliques world wide, they control politics and the media, so they present a perfect target for someone who wishes to hurl truth,

To expose Barak Obama for instance as a traitor, for his refusal to acknowledge the calumny of the Zionists who attacked America on 911, else why were Mossad agents filming the drama amid evident jubilation.

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Feedback: Uh, sorry if it came that way, if you knew me in person you would now that I'm not a show off, matter of fact I despise vain people.

Reply: Sure I am prepared to accept that your normal pride in having a decent car, has in this case overwritten other considerations, a minor peccadillo to be sure, and perhaps your understandable attitude stems from observing low self esteem in those with worthless motor vehicles.

Now we have to get down to brass tacks, do you or do you not wish to be identified as a Moslem, for the fact that you replied as "us" and "we," in response to a thread concerning Islam, suggests that you do,

When you wish to be seen by men that is, off to Mecca at the appropriate times, no beer or pizza any time, all the things public Moslems do to find social acceptance.

Get onto the truth Mate, that is the challenge in today's Islam, eugenics and Zionist Talmudist inspired war is gonna cause human extinction otherwise, deal with the problem similarly as per the instruction in the Koran,

To prosecute then put to death capital offenders, that means abortioners and war criminals, as well as the Zionist Jews and their minions led by Michael Chertoff, Jerome Haeur and Rabbi Dov Zakheim who perped 911, and for Zionist atrocity in occupied Palestine,

It means many US and Israeli officials will be tried and hanged ..its tough however that is what is required from the Moslem of today!

In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful.

21.16: And We did not create the heaven and the Earth and what is between them for sport.

21.17: Had We wished to make a diversion, We would have made it from before Ourselves: by no means would We do (it).

21.18: Nay! We cast the truth against the falsehood, so that it breaks its head, and it vanishes; and woe to you for what you describe;

The Koran: Chapter 21 The Prophets, verses 16 17 & 18.

Is Islam a good releigion?

Hell

[QUOTE]After school one day in 1959 my father started choking flogging and bashing me, I began to black out and knew he was killing me, I landed a left to his face, and felt a squishing sensation as I landed a right to his gob area and kicked him, no use blackout, coming around I could not move or shake off the blackness and blacked out again.[/QUOTE]

Like walking thru a stage curtain I stepped onto a path of white decomposed granite edged with gray blue stone, the path was undulating between hills of cotton wool texture, along came a man leading a horse, I asked if he knew where the path led and he assured me that he did.

I waited for him to move off planning to make my own way when he told me that he had come for me, I told him I thought I would have to go back, he glanced in the direction I came from and said I won't be going back, which was great news to me and brightened me up considerably.

I asked if it was his horse and did it have a name, he told me it was his and his name is Bukephalus, after a little more chit chat he lifted me up onto the horse who he told me would take me the rest of the way, before I took off on the horse I remembered to ask him his name, he said "Ah-Leg-Xander," I asked him to take it slower he said, "Alexander."

The horse took me slowly at first then at a full gallop me hanging on to its mane, along the path which ended at a pair of open arched gates, framed by the same pearl blue gray stone that had bordered the path, here the horse indicated I should dismount and as he galloped back so did the path recede.

The gates then appeared to be floating in space, like the door drifting in space in the TV series The Twilight Zone, the outer view was as for a winter's night, the stars of the Milky Way and the constellation Sagittarius, one star appeared to be moving, and resolved into the figure of a man striding along a path similar to the one that I had been on,

He was middle height aged in his early twenties, with light olive skin and dark hair, he was lightly bearded and had long legs, he was attired similar to Alexander in a home spun smock affair tied at the waist and sandals, Pisces, he drew near and said "Martin I'm Jesus."

He gestured with his right hand down and to his right my gaze following his gesture, I saw my body on the floor of the bedroom I shared with my brother, Mother had just walked into the room and seen my body and was screaming the house down, like making a performance, shrieking. Jesus said "you can stay with me or you can go back," I tell him "I will go back,"

Then instead of looking at him I was looking at the gray linoleum on the bedroom floor, I was pushing myself up on to my hands when Mother came in, she looked at me then walked out without saying anything, then Father came in and did the same, things stayed about the same, maybe nine days later both parents got stuck into me again.

Mother urging him on to batter me at eight years of age, later that year he would present me with the bodies of aborted twins to dispose of in a backyard incinerator, I had spoken up in their favor when Mother announced she was off to have an abortion.

[QUOTE]After this flogging I am lying in bed when I hear a voice calling my name ..Martin, I did not answer, again I hear my name called and again I don't answer, he calls my name again ..Martin, I said ..who's that, he said ..God.

Next night I am laying in bed the same voice as the previous night calls ..Martin.

I said ..you said you were God,
He said ..I am.
I said ..you're God,
He said ..yes.
I said ..you are actually God,
He said ..yes.
I said ..I hear voices all the time, they are not God,
He said ..no, they're not,
I said ..but you are,
He said ..yes. [/QUOTE]

I form an image in my mind of a large sweeping bay of white sand beaches near home, I ask if he knows how many grains of sand there are, he tells me he does. I pick up a handful of sand and tell him that I have the same problem of being unable to check, then telling him not to look separate three grains between thumb and forefinger, and ask "how many," he says "three," I tell him ok I believe that he is God.

I ask him if he knows everything he said he does, I say "if there was something that you did not know, you would not know you did not know it, so you should not say that you know everything," he says he knows that too, I said "you know that there is nothing you do not know," he said "yes," I said "sure."

He asked me if I wanted to know anything, I ask if there is a Hell, he said there is then asks if there was anything at all that he could do for me, I tell him I would like a guided tour of Hell please, he said "sure are you right," I said "are we going right away," he said we were.

It was dark like it was night time, from where his voice was coming there just seemed to be a mist of grainy gold light, he went before me and the wall of the house just seemed to be gone, my spirit body, astral body if you will, just followed his light and for a moment I saw the outside of the house illuminated in the rain by a street light, then we were aloft and into the clouds and total blackness.

After maybe forty seconds there was a light, I said "I can see a light," he said "that's where we are going and I want to see a good landing," the light had resolved into the figure of a man, picture the great athlete from the world of pro wrestling in the 1980's King Kong Bundy, that's what this guy looked like.

He wore a full length gown of some brown material over a white full length smock affair, Allah said "this is Philemon he will be your guide," Philemon is the warden of Hell, I stood still while he received his instructions facing the light, he is a big guy and pale phosphorescent light shone from his person, he nodded a couple of times and spoke.

The golden light of Allah faded and the big guy turned to me, we appeared to be standing in the pool of his light on a vast stone plain, bare rock and blackness beyond, he said "when you came here you just came through the air right," I said yes that I had, he said "this is just the same watch," and he just walks out off of a precipice into a vast abyss.

He is hanging there in mid air and says "come on out," out I go and standing beside him see that we are unsupported a couple of meters from the cliff edge, he starts talking to the stone, as he does so the figure of a man resolves among the cracks and ledges at the cliff top.

Philemon tells me that this is another of the guards of Hell whose instructions are that I should pass, he said "we are going down," like being in an elevator down we went, down into Hell, we were going down a long way black stone all the way.

I began to wonder if there was ever going to be a bottom, when in the gloom one perceived Gothic arches, tombs in various stages of construction eight or nine in number, some firmly chiseled giving the appearance of dressed stone, others mere outlines carved into the rock.

We had passed the overhang of a vast cavern our descent had slowed, the ghastly figure of a human being, blue white skin stretched over bones shrouded by a mist of fine white hair, crouched chipping stone with a crude mallet and chisel at the entrance to one of the tombs, flees shrieking into its interior at our vertical approach.

[QUOTE]Then landing at the top of a steep narrow path beside terraces carved into the rock, on the upper terrace twenty two crouching figures, like hologram images their human features become the features and visages of eagles.[/QUOTE]

Proceeding down the path the terraces on our left under the overhanging roof and into the cave, the terrace below had one hundred and nineteen similar figures, representing lesser raptors, hawks and kites, similarly changing appearance from bird to man.

One is blind, and there is the mummified body of a man, who appears to have been felled by a sword stroke to his left knee, then finished off with a sword thrust thru his left eye exiting the back of his head.

On another terrace below almost hidden in the gloom seven or eight figures, smooth and rounded like stones in a stream bed, some fairly large, man sized, some smaller, we take a few more steps down and along the path, and reach a landing, there are crouching figures below and ahead, Philemon turns to me and says, "this is Hell, of all who have entered here, none have left."

We were standing beside the top of a circular pit, no more that ten meters in diameter, containing the crouching figures of one hundred and twenty two comely blue green winged creatures, attending them are two hideous demons, one in human form though scaled like a snake, the other a small black figure with short thick bat like wings.

[QUOTE]To our front the wall falls away, and dejected amid his defeated company is Satan, crouched, his left arm stretched around his drawn up left knee, cradling his right arm and shattered right shoulder. His right leg is amputated high up, with a portion of bone sticking out of the raw stump like a leg roast in a butcher's window, a small quantity of dark green blood is pooled on the stone below the wound.[/QUOTE]

Past him an agglomeration of three hundred and twenty nine human figures, their group profile suggesting the arboreal physiognomy of a low sturdy powerful tree, its leaves and branches indeed the heads faces and limbs of the fallen, these are the recidivists of Hell.

Up on the other wall, further in past the tombs one's eye is caught by a straight line, a low stone shelter maybe four meters long though only a meter or so high, and twelve hundred mm wide is built onto the almost vertical slope, this is the dwelling of Chablis the Devil of the Darkness.

Higher the stone levels out and one can perceive in the gloom what looks like a hospital bed with two demon attendants, themselves attended by the green, glowing bearded human figure of another of the guards of Hell.

Further in thru and beyond the entrance of another cavern faintly illuminated in pale phosphorescence, the dark billows and strong current of an underground river, a flat bottomed craft is against a stone landing, a gaunt straining figure is poling his vessel into the stonework against the fierce pull of the current, this is Charon the Ferryman.

The boat is about two thirds laden, with the crouching figures of one hundred and two women in twelve rows of eight then six more, the furtherest back a commanding and imposing woman of indeterminate age, her black flowing hair with a broad band of silver, giving her a badger like appearance.

Dodi Smith's description of Cruella de Vil, in her book 101 Dalmatians, surely resembles this lady in Hell with her hundred and one acolytes, Hell is full of similar ironies.

The other passengers each seem to have gone aboard at different times later, the most recent a woman in her fifties her black hair streaked with gray, her bony lezzo's face expressing only anxiety and an immediate readiness for departure, as she and her companions in their turn chant the litany, then the response to the Rosary.

The landing had another occupant, another of the guards in a sentry box affair carved into the stone, a young soldierly type dressed in a full length white smock, his shoulder length fair hair, held by a circlet of some bright metallic substance, armed with a broadsword.

He fixed his gaze upon me, like I was a candidate for execution and adjusted his grip on the sword, I had noted that he and his sword, seemed more than capable of causing the death of the mummified body on the terrace, and of severing Satan's leg ..Philemon told him to put up the sword, explaining I was on tour..

I proceeded to go straight ahead, when Philemon indicates our way is to the right thru an entrance and into another cavern, then downward via a ramp deeply rutted and strewn with boulders. Incredibly a large boulder is inching upward, balancing it seemed upon the shoulders of what first appeared to be another stone, the proportion that of a tennis ball and a soccer football, the smaller bearing the larger.

[QUOTE]Read Homer describe the torment of Sisyphus , whose task is to convey a large stone to the top of a similar incline, even as the carrier gets the stone so near to the top does the burden become too much, even for this mighty man, in physical form a Tom Thumb, yet we know from legend and rhyme that TT was a particularly nice guy, Sisyphus never came to this end by being nice.[/QUOTE]

The weight becomes too much, the stone topples from his shoulders and rolls back down the incline, he chases down hill after it and catches it where sandy floor of the cavern is rolled flat and the sand has slowed the stone, running he gets behind it and checks its motion, then hoists it upon his shoulders.

He traverses the rolled flat sand and runs up the first third of the twenty meter incline, entering one of many deep ruts in the soil, and still the stone appears to be inching steadily upward of its own volition, he emerges where the rut is shallower, with the stone firmly upon his shoulders, upward till unsteadily the stone falls from his grasp and rolls back.

We proceed down the ramp and across a dark sandy place, the light coming from my guide the only illumination, our way seemed long, presently from the darkness ahead came a flash like distant lightning, as we proceeded in that direction a red glow lit the horizon.

Another flash and drawing closer the roar and crackle of flaming fire, the flashes were coming regularly and had become explosions, we were at the entrance to another giant cavern, the inner view as for an industrial furnace.

Long high stacks of burning bodies like haystacks in a Grant Wood painting, stretched to the horizon in three directions it was great, Philemon says, "this is it," he seems proud he asks "what do you think," I tell him I think its great, a mighty flash as a human being atop an adjacent high stack of corpses explodes into a pillar of bright yellow flame, we proceed in that direction.

Thru the glare of the flame the corpse stack is about five meters high, about two hundred long, and open or unfinished after a section of about thirty meters at our end, beyond in the fiery haze higher stacks six and seven meters high, laid out four hundred meters long by two hundred fifty wide, millions of corpses burning in the fire.

Standing amid all this is a critter glowing green amid the flame like the other guards, with a more or less human upper torso, from the waist down shaggy hair, feral hind legs and cloven hooves, he is a faun, he has a goatee beard and a long faun's face, with short sharp horns protruding from a mop of curly hair grown right down his spine, he has Mr Spock type pointed ears.

He has a dark olive skinned clergyman in a full nelson going on a hammer lock,he breaks into a broad smile when Philemon introduces us, the priest has his eyes fixed upon a patch of soft golden light, and has his most sickening pastor's smile on his face, he proceeds to ask, "..what's the joke." He does not finish..

[QUOTE]Within the light like on a computer screen the image of well manicured garden, and an expensive car on a white gravel driveway, ivy is climbing on a wall past an ecclesiastical arch.

A young person decked out for his first communion has got out of the car, and the clergyman's speech turns to a scream, as his face freezes into a mask of terror and horror combined, and bright yellow flame explodes out of his body.[/QUOTE]

The guard folds the latest entry into Hell backwards and downwards from his knees, and locks his inner arm onto an adjacent corpse, from a large box like structure with a square hole in the bottom like the trapdoor on a gallows tethered a couple of meters overhead, tumbles the naked body of a European man.

Picture a spiv from the Reeperbahn in Hamburg, or yet a Muscovite hoodlum white slaver, he crashes a few meters onto the corpse pile, the keeper grabs his left ankle and drags him leg first up, and locks that ankle into the pile.

The Euro is made of stern stuff, with his free leg and both arms he tries to climb back up the wall of flaming corpses, too bad about the other ankle, the keeper grabs him and applies the hammer lock, the golden light appears, the victim starts blubbering about being molested in a public toilet while still a teen, does not help his cause any, he explodes into bright yellow flame.

Next a teen suicide blubbers before exploding into flame, then one after the other two elderly Japanese men, mutual suicides one supposes, then a Sikh Doctor tries to mitigate before he too explodes into flame.

In the cubicle above dwells Bathomet the Devil of the Fire, he greets the fallen from his within his lair, the outer view has another of the ironies of Hell, hear the crooner's lyrics "Goodbye yellow brick road," or view the classic film The Wizard of Oz, wherein adventurers begin their trek upon a yellow brick road.

For here in the ante chamber of Hell the way is paved with yellow bricks, in this place you can see the fallen in that moment between death and damnation, when they themselves are unsure whether mercy or justice is to be their lot, we know of course.

A Texas Redneck pops up head first out of the yellow paved road, as he attains height so does his body achieve form and substance, he looks about, down the road a little are four arched gates going the full width of the road, they are sealed and appear intimidating, to the front a doorway in a plain wall washed the same yellow color as the paved road, like an anonymous entry to a Madrid Bar.

To the right a low wall of some light gray volcanic stone, beyond a scree slope of similar volcanic material, at the doorway a figure tall and lean clad in western style jeans and a red check shirt, looks like a spiv chalking his cue at a poolroom bar, who looks out the door onto the street and recognizing a like soul beckons him in.

Inside the Devil has a mirror, not an ordinary mirror however but a demon mirror that not only acts as a mirror, but can change shape as well, when this particular devil wishes to vex mankind he sends the mirror along, next time you are in the horrors or have the delirium tremens and you see the Wisp, you are looking into the Devil's mirror.

Looking in the mirror the Devil sees the Redneck, he looks from the front and above chest level, much like a goat, in that he has short curved back horns, a goats head and a full mane a bit like a lion, he resides behind a counter like affair, and in some respects resembles a barman behind a bar where whiskey for instance might be served.

[QUOTE]He extends his right appendage, here any resemblance to a quadruped has vanished, his right arm looks like a long hairy tentacle or a hairy spiders leg, grasped in a coil is a stick about six hundred mm long, with a crude replica of a human hand at the end, the Devil flicks it into the doorway from his side.[/QUOTE]

Outside the Redneck sees the stud at the door, sees the hand beckon in an inviting conspiratorial way, believes his salvation to be at hand and hollers out "hallelujah," he enters the doorway and his bulk blocks the light, he takes the next step forward in darkness.

Then inside and he is face to face with the Devil, whose upper body and simpering feral head is illuminated in the red glare from the flames below, who sends this sinner tumbling face like stone into the fire.

Next a rubber faced Quebecois politician pops up, he does not like it at all he has time to walk down and take a look at the sealed entrances, he walks back avoiding the doorway in the wall with its spectral doorman and the Devils beckoning hand stick.

He decides to tackle the volcanic slope and the scree, unbeknown to him that way is guarded, four demon eyes on two demon heads have been following his every move, the demons resemble small feral humans, low browed and rangy.

In a trice one leaps upon the others back, both falling forward the arms of the upper and the legs of the lower, becoming the fore and hind legs of Cerberus the Hound of Hell, now have these demons become a demon dog.

Snarling and snapping it drives the unfortunate to the door, he locks his elbows either side of the opening and faces the dog, inside the Devil casts the mirror, now become an iron chain with large links lasso's his neck and drags him in.

[QUOTE]Back at the hearth and two West African brothers, twins in appearance, seem overjoyed to actually be in Hell, first one then the other seemed to be digging every moment wide eyed and exited, right up until they started screaming and exploded into flame.[/QUOTE]

Then a young Caucasian male maybe nine years old absolutely impassive, gives out a bit of a squawk when he bursts into fire, then an old man has Old Peoples Home Proprietor written all over him impassive at the fire, doctors, lawyers,clergymen, young and old burning like mad, made me feel good.

Watching the sinners burn and looking around Hell, another guard happens along,he is on mobile patrol thru the fire and stops by to see what the fuss is, Philemon introduces him, and for a while there are the three guards and myself watching as sinners are flung into the flames. There are a lot more young people than I had anticipated, Chinese doctors were the most unrepentant and a couple of them aggressively spoke back at the light.

Positive ID's here included Jolly Old Emperor Bokassa, one time head man of the Central African Republic, who massacred schoolchildren and had the body of their schoolmaster hanging in his pantry when he was arrested.

Myklos, the perpetrator of the 1995 Hillcrest Massacre near Brisbane Australia, wherein he murdered his two beautiful teenage daughters, then his in laws then his wife, then himself, I had met him a few years before he was a millionaire printer and a boor, and my father and the abortion doctor.

Watching them tumble in then burn fatigue began to set in, bearing in mind that when Allah called it was night time, I told Philemon that I had to get a bit of sleep, and that I had to attend school the following day,that's if it was not past midnight already.

Philemon had never heard of sleep, or school and knew of no way to return,explaining to him about sleep, he says to doss down anywhere, I tell him the fire is too bright and that I needed darkness.

[QUOTE]The other guard had finished his patrol thru the fire, and was going that way so we three bade farewell to the keeper of the fire, or the racker up of the dead, I did hear his name but forgot, he was a cool guy, cloven hooves and all.[/QUOTE]

Heading back out of the fire cave, they say just relax crash anywhere you like on the sand, we go along the far wall,there is a bit of an overhang and lying down there try to crash out,unable to sleep and telling both guards, then sitting down then lying down to get some sleep, before going off to sleep I wondered how I was going to be able to get back from Hell.

The next day I just woke up at home and proceed to school as per normal, so it is that sometimes when I go to sleep at night, I will wake up in Hell then in Hell will continue the tour, till I go back to sleep and wake up at home.

The very next time I wake in Hell there is a sensation of rats running allover me, I go to sleep at home after school normally, I wake with the sensation of running feet, a tiny hand has lifted my right eyelid,rolling my eyeball down I am eye to eye with a little rat sized critter.

I sit up with a start, Philemon and the other guard ask what's the matter, and I explain that I have been over run, by way of illustration a swarm of rat critters doubles back over my out stretched legs, the guards tell me that these are fire demons, and explain that they live in the fire and are in fact the wild life of Hell.

They come to this spot, indeed the location I had chosen to lie down adjacent to a bit of an overhang, got that way because here the fire demons mine sulfur, and spread it throughout the fire.

In another of the ironies of Hell the fire demons are dressed in Personal Protective Equipment, resembling a hood woven of some coarse substance, which comes right down the body forming an apron, they scratch away at the deposit of sulfur and gather it in the apron, then race back and spread it thru the body of the fire, along tunnels built in during construction.

[QUOTE]MAN Magazine was published in Australia until about the late sixties, it had a serial comic set in Hell drawn by Australian comic artist Jack Gibson, called Infernal Nonsense, it portrayed the fire demons perfectly.[/QUOTE]

So the guards tell me the fire demons are harmless, I want to take a leak before going back to sleep, the guards say just do it and I splash a bit onto the fire demons, they become exited and a group of them gather, I get the lot of them, then move on down a little and get a bit more sleep.

Bye and bye I wake in Hell and stretch a little, thirst troubleth me not nor hunger, looking around and there is definitely a grayness, it was not as black as before whence came this illumination I was never to find out.

Both guards are still there they wanted to know if I had slept well, I told them I had, the fire demons were nowhere to be seen though their tracks were everywhere in the sand, the guard who was on mobile patrol, said now that I was awake he would resume his normal duties and bade farewell, Philemon and I headed back across the sand to go up the ramp, and back into the first circle of Hell.

[QUOTE]I explained to him that it is most unusual for someone from my culture to meet someone like him, and asked him if I might ask him a little about himself.. He says that's fine go ahead, he told me that he was a mortal being and that he was past normal life expectancy for his people, and that he had recently attended a funeral for a friend of his, who was in fact a little older than himself.

He said he had been in Hell for most of his working life, and he was sore tired of it, I asked whether he had any notion of an afterlife, and he told me that he was in fact an unbeliever, and that he did not subscribe to the notion of an afterlife at all. He said his position was not unique among his kind, however there were very many of his people who did have a different perspective.

I could not believe it, I said how can he doubt an afterlife and still be the Warden of Hell, we had just been at the fire, where millions upon millions of burning bodies testified to an afterlife, at least in so far as these were concerned.

I told him I was the same species as these burners, likewise said I it was not adherence to any creed nor testimony that placed them in the fire, they simply wanted to be bad. He said that one could muse endlessly on such topics, and in any case his orders were clear, and they were that he keep count.[/QUOTE]

We were back at the ramp where Sisyphus continued his toil, on and past him and into the first circle past the Swordsman, Philemon tells me that as we go now thru this place, we would pass close by a lot of committed sinners, for that reason Allah had decreed that here I can only see and hear, nor can I touch or feel, and that the fallen cannot see me.

We turn right and proceed a few paces more to be level with Satan, he has a wild fearless bold face and appears to be about twenty four years old, in human terms crouched down with one only leg he is still fairly large, standing he would be a tad over six feet.

Maybe there is the trace of a pout, as Philemon who is of the same tribe as he passes his visage becomes satanic, as he beholds his jailer in vile loathing, a turnkey only,since both are here by direction of higher authority.

We pass and he looks at the ceiling of his dungeon as if beholding Allah, his face expressing concern that his friend should abandon him, then from this angle his face is a mass of wrinkles and creases betraying his great age.

The path proceeds to the outer most branches of the Zaqqum Tree, described in the Koran and the home for the recidivists of Hell. A recent arrival a young male person is sobbing uncontrollably, he would have been a nice looking young man in his day, ironically not unlike a small version of Satan himself, who is doing his time as described just a couple of meters away.

The Warden touches him lightly between the shoulder blades at the back, and he lifts his tear stained face to see what wondrous soul could have shown him kindness here.

The other residents of this place crowd along the path crying, "touch us ..look upon us" and although they are crowded together none are actually touching, and nowhere in Hell do the fallen provide comfort to each other.

Philemon produces a whisk from his cloak and whips the souls away from the path, where the lash falls so do the fallen know such marvelous comfort, here the way narrows and at this place the tree dwellers are covered with thick dust, attesting to the very great length of time of their stay.

[QUOTE]Our way is now past the Zaqqum Tree, we have come to another place called The Outer Darkness the home of mortal women, a vast plain with row upon row of lost souls, up this end and close by they are in more or less pristine condition, back further and signs of wear.

Then right down the back really badly worn corpses, eyeballs gone, hair, skin, bone and sinew, we go left our way has taken us around a large pillar, where the path runs parallel to the front row of femme corpses, and we come to the ladies place of judgment under the ferry landing.[/QUOTE]

Thus for the underground river, the boat and the ferryman was just illusion, the blue green water is now an undulating layer of imps, succubi, tethered to and feeding upon the fallen, the ferry is now a stony place with one hundred and two reciting the Rosary nonetheless,

The ferryman like the demons in the other place consists of two like beings Gog and Magog. One perched upon the others shoulders the upper asleep the lower alert, the ferryman's pole now a support for the upper slumbering demon, the ticking of the clock in this place is when they change places.

Then on the upper level the ladies destined to undergo Hell enter, here the pale green light of another of the guards, and the fake hospital bed with its two demon attendants prevent hysterics, providing the illusion to the newly arrived and damned woman, that she is to be conveyed to some sanatorium place, and a construct not unlike an aquarium.

The woman's perspective is thus, she dies on Earth testimony says she will be drawn down a tube past an exit leading to a happy place, the way becomes cold, then colder and colder, the way will become tighter until form and substance is achieved. She will be delivered intact and unharmed into the aquarium like enclosure, though she can move and breathe there is very little room to move her feet, it is very cold.

In an adjacent place in a fore described dwelling Chablis stirs, he is a Devil, maybe four meters long tip to tip, lean in human shape and going on all fours, pointed chin and long crescent moon face, his eyes are tiny peepers at the inner end of conical eye sockets, open mouthed he does not seem possessed of a tongue, no tail visible.

He seems to flow across the stone and up the slope, glancing from the top into the aquarium structure, he reaches with his left hand and finds a device seen in the possession of the Joker in a pack of cards, it is a stick with the three pointed star and a painted face.

[QUOTE]A Marotte is a prop stick with a carved head on it, typically carried by a jester or harlequin, the miniature head will often reflect the costume of the jester who carries it, their hats were especially distinctive, made of cloth they were floppy with three points called liliripes, each of which had a jingle bell at the end.Wikipedia.[/QUOTE]

In this document the ironies of Hell are described, from the perspective of the woman who is about to be cast into Hell, the Devil's marotte resembles in both detail and legend Humpty Dumpty, and like in the verse he is sitting upon a wall.

The Devil tweaks his wrist and Humpty's arms and head piece wave, this attracts the horrified attention of our woman, his other arm reaches in past an airlock, he is a monstrous creature and takes hold of her by the waist.

His touch is freezing and like the passengers on the Titanic that jumped into the icy North Atlantic, she suffers Diaphragmatic Paralysis inducing a condition known as Dyspnea, she is unable to either inhale or exhale,

He then pulls her thru an opening that is altogether too small. Placing the marotte back beside the aquarium structure, he inspects his prey like King Kong and Monica Stevens in the movie KK, then like Vida Blue at Yankee Stadium he pitches her head first into the solid stone of the central pillar of Hell, the target zone well defined by the splatter marks.

She slams into the column, and slides down the almost vertical slope then crashes semi conscious into Hell proper dazed and disorientated, the clip clop of cloven hooves and the approach of a monstrous creature, horned and hoofed, another faun the identical twin of the critter that racks up the sinners in the fire, not ungently he picks her up and takes her to the place where she is to hear the judgment, and to be joined onto a vast chain of women's bodies.

[QUOTE]The first time here first left turn past the Zuqqum tree, walking with the Warden of Hell along past a long row of women, bodies all crouched holding hands, two in from the end and there's Mum. She died under aggravated circumstances in 1980, there were signs of a struggle part of the door frame was broken, even as though someone was hanging on with finger and nail, yet dragged away and killed.

Father said he did it, he drew one's attention to it and said he did it in his grief, I was working as a tower rigger on a ninety seven meter tower in the Queensland town of Dalby, the groundy radioed the tower that the local police wished to talk, they said ring home and Father told me she had passed away thru the night.

He would not let me view her body, I would have liked to see whether her fingers were bruised, prior to his own death in 1993 I had told him that before any reconciliation could take place, he would have to tell me again about how he should not have let me live, this was after presenting me with the bodies of the aborted twins in 1959.

He went into Hell praising God totally fooled by the illusory doorman and the Fire Devil's hand stick, so while I was camped out overnight in the back blocks of Hell twenty one years had passed on Earth, she did not look any different a bit tense is all, I did not dwell on her circumstances and continued the tour.[/QUOTE]

Here the racker up of the dead, picks them up by their elbows after they have tumbled down after slamming into the stonework, drags them their heels dragging the few meters adjacent to where Philemon customarily stands, which is the judgment place of the outer darkness. A soft golden light shaped like a television screen appears, and the wrong doer will see just what has gotten her into Hell.

An elegant African lady is in the hands of the monster as we approach, she is transfixed at the images in the light, the gentle touch of the giant has relieved the symptom of dyspenia, and canceled the diaphragmatic paralysis caused by the chill touch of the Devil, "no" she says, "no.. no-oooo."

The last breath in she took was in the breathable air of the aquarium, that breath frozen in her body till now, she breathes in and is paralyzed by a symptom resembling Carbon Dioxide Paralysis of the Respiratory System, she collapses at the knees.

He locks her hand and fingers to the woman on her left, and a tremor goes thru the whole of the outer darkness as the slack is taken in, and the place at the front is ready for the next customer.

She is not long in arriving, it is a malnourished looking peroxide blond with close cropped hair, you might see her at a pro abortion rally or voting for Hillary Clinton, she starts screaming "I don't believe ..I don't believe," until she runs out of puff and locks up and gets locked in.

The next is a small dark Woman in her late years from some Mediterranean place, within the light high top limo's from a bygone era, and an assassination outside of an immigrant barbershop, she watches smug from an upstairs window across the street, she starts to scream abuse in some home dialect straight into the light, the scream dying on her lips as she locks up and joins the chain.

[QUOTE]So this is the outer darkness then, having a good look about the ranks of bodies stretched to the horizon in three directions, as the body is racked up and chained on, a succubus rises out of the physical entity that was recently a human being walking abroad upon the planet Earth. [/QUOTE]

It first looks like a balloon tethered with a cord, down the spine and out of the head of the deceased, within the body of the balloon a faun critter like a miniature version of the racker.

Shaggy haired feral legs and cloven hooves, curly mop of hair, horns and pointed ears, I would later learn that this being will be the judge at the second judgment. Looking about and taking it all in I tell Philemon it was great, and thanks very much for the tour, he says he thought I wanted to see the whole of Hell.

I said I did and was there more, he assured me there was, and cast an image into my mind of serried ranks kneeling in the oriental prayer position, tall spires of ash on their shoulders and heads, balancing on the balls of both feet and their knees, straight backed, hands on thighs palms downward, fingers together resembling the statues in a Thai temple.

Just where they could be I did not know and he says to follow him, and back thru the first circle past the Tree, Satan and the Swordsman, past Sisyphus straining up the incline with his stone, across the desert and back into the fire cave.

Down past the place of judgment and explosions of fire every forty seconds or so, thumbs up to the faun racking them up, then down between the vast flaming stacks of burning bodies to the nether part of Hell.

As we move further from the front so too are the bodies burnt down, past the yellow green burners at the front, to charred corpses further in, then burnt charred corpses with just flickering blue flame and human coals, on to a place where the bodies are mere cinders blackened and burned beyond recognition.

A spectral guard here tries to block one's way, I sidestep him and he fades away, at this place a huge four armed being dismantles the stacks of charred cinder corpses, those he takes in his right pair of arms reconstructing the body in his marvelously dexterous hands, join with a blue green flying creature that has appeared from somewhere.

The charred metallic body of the sinner crumbles to dust, revealing only the bright white pure human soul, they rush together and embrace, their union sealed in a blinding flash of arclight that fades to reveal a composite white robed flying creature, which departs this place at a rate of knots.

Those he takes in his left pair of hands, likewise reconstructed they too put on their best face, as the blue green flying creature appears, the giant four armed being gives him the option of reconstructing with the newly raised from the fire human soul, the blue green angel lets out a scream of outrage and horror, and flies out of the place like a bat out of Hell, no mistaking that at all.

[QUOTE]Thus in place in the two left hands of the Angel of the Second Judgment, Philemon did tell me his name which I have forgotten, he is a pretty cool guy notwithstanding he looks a bit like a snake just jutting up out of the ground with his four arms, he has a mustache and a part in his hair, and looks a bit like Sir Richard Hadlee the great New Zealand sportsman.[/QUOTE]

So the fella in his two left hands is placed alongside another of his kind, they are in a column of six, like the chain of women in the outer darkness, some unseen mechanism is causing the column to move like a snake, of its own volition taking the men backwards out of the fire chamber.

Thru and beyond another overhang and out into a volcanic place, where red hot volcanic cinders alight like snow upon their heads and shoulders, here they resemble the statues in a Thai temple, then only their faces and eyes are visible as the ash buries them.

On downward and on deeper into Hell the time for remorse long gone, the underground column comes to a trip place, here the bodies do a one eighty pivot, the men are now facing forward, as the column of the damned wends downward, and here in this place of dust and ash the fallen sleep.

Nor yet is their journey thru Hell over, deeper and deeper goes the column of six and its company of snoring losers, two weeks pass on Earth and the column intersects an underground stream, here in this place of water and steam where the pious man looks toward heaven bitter and beaten, a witness of failure and dashed hope.

[QUOTE]For here in vindication of the prophesy of John the Baptist, that "all flesh shall know the salvation of God," the damned are raised.[/QUOTE]

Attendants, two hundred kilo individuals like funny parody drawings of Cherubs, loose skin and tiny little wings on an overgrown wrestler's body, one reaches out his hand where the column goes over a hump and the ranks open out, and takes the hand of the soul of the sinner.

He has been in the Eastern prayer position for as many weeks, and while this is an elegant pose it produces physical agony after only a short while, the attendant assists him up then massages him up and down the legs, toweling down his upper body with a rag cloth he keeps over his shoulder.

The sinner is an ancient Walter Brennan type, you gotta believe just how old this man is, never would anybody really encounter any person on Earth this old, old or not and notwithstanding his double trip thru Hell, he is jaunty and full of witticisms toward the demon attendant, he thinks he is still in hospital, and tells the demon about this really vivid dream he was having until woken, the attendant has heard it all before and mumbles something.

He has massaged both legs and feet, done his upper body and arms with the towel which he dips into a stone basin of water, then wrings out and does his face and ears, Walter is still chattering away as the wrestler hands him up to his brother, who is up a couple of steps on another landing.

When he passes from one brother to the other, so does a shiver of white light commence from the brother's fingertips, then go right thru the newly resurrected sinners body until he is fully up on the landing, once more a young man in the full vigor of youth, whence the guard directs him to a then unknown destination.

The next sinner freed is a wizened little bloke, could have been a gunslinger in the wild west, mouth just a slit and cold eyes, untalkative he is toweled down and rubbed, he thanks the attendant who passes him on to his brother.

The next is a Dyak head hunter maybe from the island nation of Borneo, an incredibly old little dark skinned man seems happy to be going, I pass with him onto the next level, he approaches a gate beyond the gate his extended family, his grandfather, his mother, and his brothers and sisters are overjoyed to have him back.

The next there is a Caucasian youth, his beautiful wife and children their features indistinct from my perspective greet him.. the column of annealed metallic corpses progresses a little further, until they tumble into an ash whirlpool resembling a bottomless pit and are ground to atoms.

[QUOTE]That's Hell, the second judgment in the outer darkness is much the same, the girls progress right thru Hell till they come to a body builder, who has a horn trumpet attached to a thong around each wrist. [/QUOTE]

When their time comes, the succubus that emerged at the first judgment has drained all the goodness out of the woman's body, which has gone up the umbilical cord and has nurtured him, the umbilical cord snaps, and the faun critter has become a blue green angel, identical to the angels that say yea or nay at the second judgment at the fire.

The bodybuilder ..like this guy is built, is mostly indistinct, the guards in the darkness are a more reserved group than their counterparts at the fire, in that his light which shines from a disc above his head is most often very dim.

He interviews the newly emerged blue green angel, and depending upon the response, raises either the trumpet horn in his left hand blowing B flat, signaling that there will be no removal, or yet he raises the right trumpet horn and blows D, then the released human spirit, standing at the place of judgment, like an intact Venus de Milo risen from a terrible waste of corpse debris and the angel embrace, within the arc light their union produces the robed figure of a flying angel who wastes no time leaving.

The losers collapse, and so does the floor receive them losing all human shape and like a procession of bright white maggots, they make their way toward a place where they will tumble down out of the main body of Hell, and be buried in freezing cold volcanic ash.

Down until they are liberated, as the ashy medium intersects an underground body of water, then they are washed out of the ash, over a waterfall and into a pool of water, here they thaw, and dive and plunge about this strange limbo world, till they drag themselves up a cinder beach and flop down like seals.

[QUOTE]The two demon attendants here resemble Asterix The Gaul, in the European comic strip of that name, in that they are armored from the waist up and fully helmeted, against the amorous passions of the newly resurrected women, their eyes visible thru a horizontal slot in their helmets.[/QUOTE]

Handing the girls onto the next level, the white light tingles over their skin and they arrive on that level once more in human form as beautiful young women, stark bollicky naked however, up the path there is a high arched bridge, below just cloud then across and a gateway with no gates on the hinges.

Just inside a dress shop with diamond shaped crystal panes in the windows, here the girls get something to wear, this one chose a short sleeve blue and white full length dress with a modest neckline, that would not have been out of place among the Amish communities in Pennsylvania.

Outside the shop there is a family group waiting, one young man a clean limbed type, seems a tad self conscious among people he does not know, then erupting from the group's center a black shape nor yet human but beast, carnivore tongue extended and feral teeth exposed, this is a puppy dog of the poodle variety.

[QUOTE]That is what happened in Hell, Mother went to the second judgment after twenty two years and some months, I never witnessed her ordeal but guess she would be no chance to be rescued by her guardian angel. Father went to judgment after seven years three months, I watched him leave Hell facing backwards in September 2000, the Doctor did only eighteen months and went to an unknown future,

Myklos who did his family in got five years.. I told Allah after the tour, that I felt injustice was being perpetrated in the matter of Satan and all the inhabitants of the first circle of Hell, directing his attention to the monstrously inadequate sentences handed down to my father for instance, and to the Doctor who performed in excess of one hundred and fifty thousand abortions.[/QUOTE]

He replied that the disposition of his slaves was a matter for him, and that Hell was not the place for temerity, I went on to negotiate their release after Gog and Magog appealed directly to me that I petition Allah in their favor, I did that, he relented and Hell did empty.

Gog and Magog facilitated the repair of Satan's chest wound, and at my behest found and fitted a new right leg for him, and found him a pair of short pants, never was his dignity offended, once more called Lucifer I escorted him to the light, and handed him into the light the same way as I had observed the demon angels do with the resurrected humans at the end of Hell.

Chablis the Devil of the Darkness, has the ability to split into many miniature replica's of himself, it is extraordinarily good luck to capture one.. I caught one and held it in a bottle for about four years before releasing it into the light, when it coiled out of the bottle and disappeared into the light, I saw it had the form and shape of an oriental dragon.

I told the dragon I would see him and the bottle back on Earth, when he gets here I will be using him as a front line soldier in the Jihad I am in the process of fomenting against the abortion lobby.

[QUOTE]After taunting him into chasing me, I had assumed the shape of a beautiful woman using my sweet Lizzy as a model, I climbed back up the cliff face at the place where he splatters the woman against the rock, he went berserk with fury and got after me.

I had anticipated this and had prepared an opening into the outer world, thus viewing Hell from space, I drilled a shaft twelve millimeters in diameter using a burr bit attached to the top of my astral head. He pursued me across the first circle when I shrunk down and shot up the bore hole, he sent one of his most trusted miniature replica's of himself after me.

I had been training in high speed astral maneuvers, and got to the top of the shaft in time to place the neck of the bottle I had stashed there over the hole, and wait till he cannoned full on onto it, then place in and lock into place the glass stopper which came with the bottle.

He was a small black winged creature, resembling a pterodactyl more that a bat, with bright red eyes, horns, and a tail with a flattened arrow head shaped tip, if he had a pitchfork he would have been identical to the devil of popular mythology.

Chablis was enraged, he can not harm my astral self however, the place I took the bottled devil is where the blue green angels go, when they have refused the advances of their onetime guarded companion.

They fly across the ether until they come to a structure much like a sea urchin, a sphere with a hole in the top, down thru the hole and imagine that you are inside a lamp, the central flame a bright white light.

No glare and easy to look at, ranged around in concentric tiers are a few hundred of the blue green angels all similar but none identical, some are sleeping and some stretching their wings, at various times there are a lot of them, then sometimes only a few.

Variously they approach the light vertically as they enter the chamber then are lost in the brightness for a few moments, until they emerge chattering excitedly then they get directions and fly off somewhere, or take a rest there before departing.

I believe Gog and Magog are spirits from the world of stone that somehow began interacting with humanity, in an adverse way obviously since they landed in Hell, my plan is to instruct them in the Koran and the ways of Islam.

I propose to direct their attention to the injunction from Allah, re waging Jihad or just war against your attacker, I will tell these rock spirits to rally their people as Moslems, and as soldiers for Allah in the war against the unbelievers, which will be on behalf of those, who will otherwise be slain by the abortioners! #[/QUOTE]

He still talks to me, and has since told me that he has chosen me as his messenger. MT

MT...Are you alright...Sir?

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