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guthrie
They came for the dinosaurs, and I did not speak out, because I was not a dinosaur. They came for the giant robots, and I did not speak out, because I was not a giant robot. Then they came for the nerds. And I was screwed.

Age 35, he/him

Nerd Final Boss

University of Texas

Space Mountain

Joined on 8/28/03

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That's what the preacher man says...

Posted by guthrie - May 6th, 2008


We're walking downtown during lunch. It's a cold spring day and the sky is dark gray behind the buildings. The wind blows through the static corridors, flicking dust and throwing papers.

We go the block or so to have some Chinese food. I get an order of Siam Noodles. They know me there, so they pack the clamshell with so many curry noodles that the cashier can hardly close it. The plastic bag around it sags and the tied handles pull tight on my fingers.

We move around the corner. It seems we've walked this route so many times that I can't count them. The smell of diesel fumes billows among the derelicts and businessmen standing in the sunshine.

I can see him in the distance, a lone figure in khaki pants, black shoes and belt, a white shirt and a long black tie. He paces back and forth, a black rectangle in his hand. He beats upon it with his fist. He looks like a tiger tracing circles in a cage. The sun brightens his white hair, but there is no halo.

We approach him slowly. I can feel your eyes on me - you know what I'm thinking.

You're right.

When I turn to look at you I can see your anxiety. You've heard the bile I spew and you know that I want to turn his words around on him. You know I'm crazy enough to try and argue down a crazy guy with a Bible.

His voice carries above the sound of traffic and people. He repeats damnation, damnation, damnation... it would seem that the end of the world is coming.

"The preacher man says it's the end of time... he says that America's rivers are going dry. the interest is up, the stock market's down..."

I want to slow down as we pass him. He yells and screams at passers-by. He talks about the end of the world, he talks about the end of time, he talks about the end of the family.

He holds up his book and swings it around like a sword - "The sword of God!" He holds it above his head. "God shall smite us with his wrath unless we repent! The Lord shall come down upon us and take his children like a thief in the night." He takes a breath. "Will you be here when the mighty trumpet sounds?"

I slow down and you push me forward, I feel the tips of your fingers in the small of my back as gentle pressure.

"God has turned his back on us! We are a nation of baby killers and drug addicts, child molesters and homosexuals!" He turns and faces the street. I notice that people around him have started to turn their backs on him.

They don't want to catch his eye, they don't want to gain his interest, they don't want this crazy man in their midst. Everyone is fearful of him. Not for his message, but for his manic and inane screaming. They see him as a festering boil on the sidewalk, worse than a beggar for change. If he was a beggar he would probably go away.

I wonder, has he ever won a single soul for Christ, yelling like this? I wonder, has he ever done more than stand on the street corner so that others can see just that he is a "holy man". Does this notoriety help him to sleep at night? Does he have any friends?

Your fingers push me on. I look at the preacher man now as he speaks the "words of God".

I don't think he understands anything at all he says. I look at the preacher man, I look at the preacher man, I look at the preacher man.

But he doesn't look back.

"The preacher man says it's the end of the world..."

We walk towards an empty staircase to have a quiet lunch on the steps. Behind us the man's voice fades into the rush of traffic.

"The preacher man says it's the end of the world..."

I open my box of noodles and they spill out like bliss... I wonder if he ever opens that book in his hand.

"The preacher man says it's the end of the world..."

But d'you think the end of the world is coming?

No. So says the preacher man, but... I don't go by what he says.


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