No Forethought Whatsoever: Writing What Comes To my Mind NOW And Truthfully


This is nothing new for me to write as I speak in the now. I think I’m going to make this about “being real”. The above photograph is of me in a small market (large West Coast chain) called Trader Joe’s. I took this picture to try to look cool, like Bill says in kill Bill 2… Trying to look cool. I sat with the toilet lid down… I sat on the toilet wearing slacks, blazer, Turquoise stone bolo tie worn off the collar.

Matrix style sunglasses, hair colored. If you were to see me as I am now and I would put a Longshoremen’s Hat on my head, you would see a man that looks like an imam (Muslim pastor) possibly because my beard is now 2 inches long,  70% white like the teenagers at my alma mater high school – 70% white. I am white. Technically Arabic is white. Did you know that? That is a funny thing about the world.

I have always had the ability to be a master of disguise with no international agenda and perhaps an imagination greater then the cartoonists it came up with boo-boo bear. So I guess the topic I picked is me. I’m not ashamed- I’m going to make this interesting. The worst thing I ever did is… Just kidding! See? Already interesting.I’m serious about making this interesting though.

Me. My name is Andrew Harrison. My  born legal name is Andrew and then something else. I thought with such seriousness about changing my last name that I did. It’s like going from Orlando Magic to the Chicago Bulls- instead of being a poof of magic YOU’RE A BULL. Neat and concrete. I don’t know anything about psychological sciences concerning identity and name changing. I was nuts before and still am. Oh well!

I spent so much time bullshitting. Yeah in life and writting blogs too. Syntaxsinner is one and there is one other before this one I got some notice that the blogger the year 2013 “liked” my blog Zaphanathpaneah17. That did not give me a euphoric high… I don’t know maybe more like it made my literary Cessna fly with squeegee clean windows and the orange sun came through while going over Alaska instead of Kansas.

I don’t know how many different kinds of writing there are, and I really don’t care… but I’ll tell you as a kid I never really cared for that trick that chubby kid to do with the stomach to make it look like a flopping face. I don’t have anything against BBW fat people. I’m a bigger guy and actually its not fat. Oh and not muscle, either. It’s a surprise I keep to myself and a thorn to my super powers of compassion and stuff. I do not look absolutely hideous but I DO have a rare blood condition where I get internal bleeding of blood fluid, not blood- all the time in my gut. Long story short I look like for Flintstone with the beard on the Hanson with a bowling ball beer belly in the front like I’m four months pregnant as a man. I play it off like a NOT-alcoholic beer drinker with spare tire fat from jolliness drinking beer.

Wake up, folks. Not you. You. Heh heh.

The truth is that I had to quit drinking. Pretty much. It didn’t help the pain and I found the right meds for all of that shit, but I’ve had near death experiences- none of us make it. Just kidding. Seriously we don’t. Just kidding, relax!!  I get edema in the abdominal cavity like hare kate. Look up HAE. It causes pain to the nerves where one gets a gut feeling. “Pain” is the word I could use over and over but that’s just a very dark black pen- pain comes in a pallet of various colors. I’d say a rainbow of pain but the word rainbow is used by special interest groups that I don’t have an interest in. Poor rainbow in the sky. Even Ronnie James Dio put it like this:

it’s like a rainbow in the dark

So I’ll use that. That’s what warms me as I face death whether tomorrow or 30 years from now. I won’t use the Pink Floyd prism. It’s got to be misty like a grapefruit. And within. Electricity. Maybe. It’s turbo in me. Messianic transformer is zapping my thoughts this week asking how do you think you would kill yourself and I told him. I said HOW they did not seem to hold it against me. I think I am being used for suicide research in Heaven’s lab for a better tomorrow. Who am I, Hellboy? I told the Angels. Or if you will, the voices in my head that are not wrong ever. I live in Oregon, human, age 41, sane. Be afraid? I’m human not angel. I am possession of El. El Shaddai. NOT cool. That is Jesus’ Father. Is there love? Yes! Am I hurting? My skin is warm all over right now. I am a powerful man alive! Whoa! My post!

my post is toast…

jesus as end-game zaphanathpaneah

Game Over

Do you wish to continue?

5, 4, 3, 2…

(I am a top motivational speaker “runner up”. I cannot RUN and I am not UP TO SPEAKING. Oh well. Thank you for reading, but only if you are human.)

The Silent But Deadly Tree

“If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around to hear it- DOES IT MAKE A SOUND?”

According to the “Double-slit” experiment, NO, but it would still kill a deaf “holographic” bunny rabbit that the Creator made. I like bunnies, material or holographic.

Read more on “Quantum Physics” and atheism. Do they go together, or are THEY immaterial ideologies, too?

Things that make you say,


Er, I mean:


Yes- things that make you go “hmmmm”.

Future Andy


My name is Munnie Melkovich. And this is my ding-dong, corn-dog, Judge Wapner, Judge Wapner, Judge-wapnered life.

The lack of emotions in previous sentence?- Atypical Asperger. Right? I dunno. Who made the definition? Are they God? ARE they SANTA? No.

I already have a blood disease. Hi. I’m 40 and Andy is my name. Yeah. So my dad was an analytical scientist doctor Asperger golf-hating MD who injected a little morphine because he also had an abdominal car crash disease called HAE. This is brilliance. I feel it. My heart beats double the BOOMBAH of a Viking slave ship pace. I am guessing. I’m empathetic, too. So empathetic that it’s pathetic. I feel for what dead slaves may have felt. Then I go “X” plus number of “dead” to make the empathy of the past a net.

Do you ever think of the poor guy (x500,000,000?) and poor girl who chug a lug drowned after Noah built a giant floatations device? I get the pragmatism of going on with better people and the same gorgeous animals.  I once heard it said, “I will call them my loved one who was not my loved one.” That’s in the bible. I read it before.

Okay- Pharoah was bad to Israel. He died drowning. He was NOT God’s loved one. Millinea go by, Egyptians crafted a world of architecture, dead-people preservation, cat fancy, artistic awash, NOT over-eaters apparently. There were “redeeming” qualities. People love Egyptians in the ancient world as hard workers.

  1.      Yeah, so Pharoah was killed in the sea if you believe the Torah’s words on ancient Egypt. Not many stories on Ancient Egypt. Not many. No. Huh. But, PHAROAHS are loved as modern children go, “Yeah, cool dog-head Anubis” not a thought to call it pagan pagentry. A tear must form in the eye of Pharoah salt-water sivved bones, skull, eye, oh I dunno, but with the Kingdom of God within, a child of God loves an old enemy of the people of Yahweh, one who is probably greasier than Hitler but dry as Putin and it may just be a sign to look for the resurrection of Unknown Pharoah number 22 in a far off time from now and more real than Star Wars.

Star Wars is make up. ALL of it. Where is the real dream world beyond writing? I don’t want to play and be insane in this world. Where is real identity forever? That’s not to try to obtain an answer now, that is to point. And by pointing I say:


Olaf’s Loaf From Fallow Field Wheat

Yoy can barely coax these fallow field wheat stalks to produce. Yes, yes. Their field got a rest. But I need a loaf of bread now. Now. Now. Made by hand. By the strong hand of a Uki.

And it’s not happening. Sorry everyone. Show is over. The court jester is back from the dungeon. He’s not laughing. Must be better punishments for someone who must stay jolly.


You feel BAD for cussing. Or you just got in trouble. You PUNK! Why don’t you do a LINE with me??! No! Not of cocaine, you gorilla!! Do a line of…


How? -you ask

no. First ask what it is.

Kuzzin… Is the “cousin”… to



Do you need to F – BOMB?!? Tried the old ones? -like:

Frick frack funk fack fick fock FOG fig fink freck fark ferk FIKE fumble-doo??

Oh they sound so lousy.

The newest cuss words are found in the Facebook garbage cans of groups like Hambone-mutilation mutants, boys on leashes, Dimer-dunk-a-rat and Fred World. Degenerant white boys, 90 lb maximum don’t smoke eat crackers, smoke hair from barbur shop to get high.

THEY are the masters of  kuzzin.

It might be disappointing to here that there is no home brew synthesis for the F BOMB but let’s start with a specific situation…

Let’s say you were demoted at work and want to call you supervisor a


….. ass + h + olé …

(that’s not it.)

(so you HAVE to exclaim something or YOU WILL FEEL PAIN LIKE SOLITARY confinement with your face duck taped to Gene Shallit’s hairy chest.)

Well those chagghanauts start to ramble out some words like

pog gnat!

Butt jar!

cake dump!

(to which the supervisor replies “what?” So you have make an alibi-sound…

what do you say normally?

I need a new car

i want a vacation

I would love to do a BETTER job!!



that last one could actually turn an F word energy into a step in the right direction! How economical.

who really needs to hear this? It’s common sense.






The Borax

The Borax lived in a tiny three story cottage in Hooverville. As people did their “whodunnits”, hoodie and the blowtorches, hoo are you hoo-whos, the BORAX was fine with that.

But when the snake cult took over, the BORAX was upset. The snake cult people wore white. The BORAX was just a simple bottle of bleach. So he moved away.

But then Onan the Barbarian defeated James the Earl of Jonestown, leader of the Vadercult of snake-people.

Gray ham and Eggs! That’s next!


Atomic Life In The Creation Arena

How is life created? Does all material being matter? What makes law in physics and biology?

How is life created? Does all material being matter? What makes law in physics and biology?

What if people created a universe?

Imagine in the year 2305, cloning machines can create embryos from a human plan and not from the big guy. A machine so powerful is THERE! Yes, the umogrifier takes plans, say for example an ape 10 feet tall. The genome is tweaked. Instead of using modified pituitary gland, computers map out the most stable WAY an embryo is designed. Speaking of stable, unicorns are made in the 24th century. Flying unicorns, too.

The next drive of humanity was to attempt to synthesize more space. To change laws of thermodynamics in them to differ from ours.

So there was a father and son living in a cudon (self-sustained cube, makes oxygen. Each is smaller than a bio dome, but close in size. The father, Zane had his son, Aiden, adjust the Holodek in the inside of the behemoth machine. The virtual world of trillions of beings that were capable of being actually created was collapsing. In 6400 virtual world years they would all die.

But for them that was 6 days away. Aiden was 30 feet DOWN a tube as big as an MRI machine when he found where the world-wire came unplugged! That was serious in theory to leave the world gate open! Aiden took the male and female cords and said:

“Father, I have the means to save this world by connecting this. This will pull out all the energy from my body. I will die. I am scared.”

Zane went to the other room, crying. Why was he allowing this loss? He wanted to shout that it was okay but could not. Aiden coupled the wires, they reconnected as he died, stuck, electrocuted slowly. Was he really dead? That day was the Festival Day Of  Freji. Aiden’s body was still trapped in the Creation Machine.

On the day of Sooning, there was an earthquake. Zane woke to hear a knock on the door. Standing there in fig leaves were virtual people who had died returning to their creator- Zane and Aiden. Zane forgot over the night that he had a son named Aiden. The first young man of the game, the Adam figure named “Zohar-Kachin” met Zane at the door.

Zane was shocked. There were more people than could be counted. All was well with his created world. WAS THERE A REALITY TO HIS SON? His son Aiden was a part of all of these newly embodied people. What I want to see is Aiden alive. He IS alive but not outside the game. Or is he? I suppose anything is possible.


I wrote this to convey the primus relationship of the True Faith which is God the Father, the son and the Holy Ghost where there seems to have been a joint put out of place when JESUS died. When he was sacrificed to meet the need for salvation. People do not like bloody death sacrifices but his loss is our gain and he is willing to save. To save eternally, to save temporarily, to save daily, to ease pain and death and prevent death.

Dedicated to our lord and Heavenly Father. Jesus is the eternal father. I love to say “our” father, because we live in a selfish world. I have always liked stories that convey biblical truth in a cool story. Lord of the Rings and Narnia they do. I don’t feel I’m up to doing a novel. Maybe cowritten. And the Father and Son cowrote.

I’m going to get a glass of water😉

See you later