Hi, I'm Jesse. Jesse Teshara. One of them. Google says there's another. Specifically, I'm the Jesse Lawrence Teshara. But I am not my name. I am my body. My body's name is JLT. A rose is a rose by any other name. I have an aunt Rose. She's a nun. Aunty-Christ. My God-father was Dick (Richard). Glad to meet you. I am God. I am. Je suis. You can call me Jess. Jesse means “God makes forget” and “The Whole Office of the Eucharist.” My name in Spanish is Isai, Jesus, and Chuy. That's pronounced Eesa-e, Hey Zeus, and Chewy. The eucharistic wafer IS chewy. Eucharist can be rearranged to Eu a christ. You are what you eat (less what you excrete). Maybe you shit the devil (the devil IS a piece of shit!). Jesus sums to 2, in numerology: 10, 5, 19, 21, 19. That's 1,5,1,3,1. You sum the sums, so 11 becomes 2. The Whole Office=T.W.O. Christ is 5, like E. Every word sums to a number from 1 to 9, which gives some added meaning to Summer. Isai? I, Isa. Isa is Jesus in Arabic. Jesse is an anagram for see s.j. (society of jesus, the jesuits). Teshara can be 'as earth'. So I'm “Jesus as earth.” I'm a part of the christian conspiracy! Jay Zee and jazzy and jizzy for example. Jose and Josie and Jest works, too. JLT stands for jolt, jilt, jailtime. JT is similar to the pi symbol. J is the tenth letter. Satan is say, ten. WWJD? Jesse would write! A nightly rite of right writing. The letter J unifies Satan with Jesus. L is the twelfth letter, like the disciples/apostles/tribes. Or the knight, in chess. Lawrence is my dad's name. He goes by Mr. T. Hilarity. Larry has a brother, who is my Uncle Tom. No kidding! I'm a Big Brother, too. Greg is GLT, like the volvo. I was born on 9-3, like the saab. My mom is Peggy T, like Egypt, or PG&E, or the PT Cruiser. T is like a cross. Teshara is pronounced T'share uh. The Holy See is in fact a Jesuit. I grew up in San Francisco. I went to St. Ignatius (college preparatory). SI was the founder of the Jesuit order. So that's the connection with pope Francis, and see S.J.
Jesse Lawrence Teshara is an anagram for 'ace wrathless sane jeer'. The world is mad, and I'm an ace at wrathlessly jeering it. You may have forgotten that I am God. That's okay, because you are, too. You ate the host, and so now you're Christ. Christ just means annointed with oil. You can also make yourself Christ with some olive oil, any time you like. And have a hostess cupcake for dessert. If God didn't want us to eat animals, then why are they made of meat? Meet your mate, team. Jesse, Jess-see, JC. Isai, two i's to C with (Chuy). My mom goes to Mass nearly every day. Ma, Te. Mom, Jesus Christ! She bakes a lot of chicken. (Chickens illustrate heaven – ave hen!) The heavenly afterlife is in on the tastebuds and stomachs of us diners who enjoyed consuming their flesh. El pollo loco! (crazy good chicken!) ATE is, in fact, 8. God is 8. H is the eighth letter. Allah, all a H. Reality is all the God there ever is. I'm trying to be more vegetarian. Did you know they call Harris Ranch “cowshwitz”? I'll get my angel's wings when my flesh is consumed by flies, after I die. And I'll be eaten by worms, too, no doubt. We're all white, in our bones! We're all God because we are the principal architects of our own happiness, we're love (god -the love of our parents, the creators- made us), we believe all things (including atheism), god is everywhere so there is no one and nothing that is not God, god is all powerful and the most powerful act is murder and god is a man of war and there is a time to kill and vengeance is mine sayeth the lord (life or death) and the wages of sin is death and there is no one who does not sin, and we're all killers in our hearts (anagram of haters), which need blood to survive. Vampire, by the way, is I.m.a. Perv. Christians drink the blood of Christ. Blood fetish is in fact perverted, I'd say. Love is a heart, in the same way that Allah is all. There is no God but God, the recitation says. God is a man of war, and the art of war is deception. Theology is the study of THE (tee-hee!). Perhaps the prince of peace came to bring the sword. The U.S. Presidential election is almost upon us, so don't let the left hand know what the right is doing. The righteous right and the loco left. The loving left and the really rong right. Chuy is Chewbacca from Star Wars, and Riddle is Voldemort (lord move T) in the Harry Potter books, and Tennessee is very J-esse, and my left ankle doesn't bend, which is sinister and sinful and leftious. I'm adopted, and therefore pro-life, and Annette V Riddle is my birthmother. She's diagnosed as schizophrenic, too. Sarah Salazar was my sister. Gnosis.
Hello. Hell low. Hi. High. You're probably aware of this subliminal content behind the familiar greetings, no? The words have the same denotation, but different connotations. Hello is more cold, while hi is warmer, more familiar -which is weird, because hell is supposed to be a place of fire, while high elevations are colder, sometimes snowy (despite being closer to the sun). Saying hello isn't hellish, and saying hi doesn't necessarily evoke an emotional surge of what I like to call “oogies” of joy (although they could). They are dry, formal, preliminary, perfunctory, and prompt no further reflection.
But conceptually, intellectually, rationally, our greeting-words inject a layer of religious meaning into everyday language. Even “Yo!” evokes the up and down of a yo-yo, which could further permute into higher and lower moods, if not the actual descent into hell or ascent into heaven. Happiness IS heaven, misery a form of hell. Bank accounts swell or dwindle, causing elation or depression. The center of the earth IS hot, they say. The darkness below, where most of us will go. As a child, you look up to others. But not when you're dead, even if you're underground. You won't even see black. If you're superior, you look down on people, as if from heaven above, your head in the clouds, high and happy, light and airy, as if on H. Big, important you. You were favored by God, you were better than those little people, those muppets, those hobbits. Flying high in the sky, like a bird, an angel, superman, a dreamer. A pilot, a passenger. On cloud 9, on your spaceship, on the moon, on another planet, in another universe. God: Genius or dumb, giddy or dejected/grim or delighted, great or diminutive, good or depraved, glorious or debased, guns or drugs, god or devil, going or dead.
Goodbye in spanish is 'adios' (to god), which does the same thing, except at the end of interaction (as if the end of talking were the end of our lives). Even the word 'good' is one letter from 'god.' God with an O is good. Apparently, god with an orgasm, or, alternatively, god plus offense, makes God good, the words seem to be telling us. God is good, the “good book” says, so removing an O from goodness (whatever that means: oh, no more owe! Pay thy debts*) is also godly. “A Dios” is 'to God' for both the speaker and the one spoken to (although it could be intended for only one). To good things, or to better things. Or to others, who are equally Godly. If God is good (the bible says “only” God is good!), then going to Him (or Her) is good news, although it could be seen to imply you weren't with him already, even if God is everywhere, as some theologians say. God is also the source of all goodness, I've heard said. So get going, finish your conversation, and be on your merry way, as brevity is virtuous! Why? To God! Because the source of all goodness is your destination! Better to get where you're going, than tarry in your sinful situation and steps. Death is the ultimate destination, the last stop, on this train ride from human interaction to interaction, from one to another, and so on, for up to 122 years, if you get really lucky. Re-uniting with Brahman awaits. To dust you shall return.
Does all this reflection recommend one particular greeting over another? Maybe I should stick with just hello: 'high' reminds me of high school, or drugs, or elevation and ascent, which have little to do with happiness or heaven. School can be a pain. Drughs can be hellish. Trudging up mountains might not be worth the view. But the heavens are up. More than one heaven. As bugs bunny said, what's up doc? Well, the opposite direction from gravity. Down is up, if you keep going! If you're going through hell, keep going, to quote a friend from facebook. It's a long, hard road, out of hell, sings the Spawn soundtrack. Sex has its ups and downs. I don't believe in any afterlife, heavenly, hellish, or otherwise. I don't think you should, either. Once you're dead, that's it: kaput. It's the universal fate for all life that ever lived (and, I believe, that ever will). Reincarnation is also a ridiculous, outdated concept. What in tarnation is reincarnation? Carnations are flowers. America is a car nation. But reincarnation is just gibberish. You are your body, and only your body. Souls don't exist. The soles on your feet do, as do the fish, but there is no ghost inhabiting your body that will live on after you. Avatar is only a movie. You will give up the ghost with your last breath, and maybe the butterfly effect will make it into a hurricane. An act of God might be pleasant to hope for, if you want your life to have made a difference. Addition, subtraction. Dead hurricane victims. Living progeny. You'll be dead forever, but you could still live on through art, writings, children, legacy.
Maybe you find this truth refreshing, and reading the counterpoint to erroneous religious dogma makes you happy. Or, on the other hand, you find being reminded of mortality sad and depressing, and you don't want to think about it: You'd rather live forever. Or, both, simultaneously; the hellish depression and the heavenly high cancel each other out. So hello and hi are just simple greetings, with no other meaning in them. Meaning itself is a weird word: it seems to say the average human is cruel, the mean is mean, and that words themselves could be sinister in themselves. Hopefully we all have kind words for each other. Hola, Adios. Ha! Word to your mother, dawg. Ward, were d, warred; made of letters (every word made of little blood-letting vampires? 26 english vampires!); spelling (casting spells!).
I was diagnosed as bipolar once; So, this hi and lo business is a fitting opening. Bipolar disorder was once called manic depression. You may have heard the Jimi Hendrix song about it. I am not my disease. I am not even my name. My name is Jesse. No I. Jesse, like Jackson, James, Owens, Helms, Ventura. You can call me Jess. I am a man. Not Jessica, or Jessie. You could say I am my name, but actually, I am my body. My body is called Jesse. I can change my name, just as I can change my body. One has no relation to the other. Well, I know that's not strictly true. People with A's in their names are better students, I read somewhere, for example. But I'm not sure names SHOULD affect bodies. Don't take the name of the lord your God in vain. Jesse? I didn't take it, I was given it! I won't take H in my veins, I think, though.
Adios, to god: to One (2,1=3, trinity, holy trinity of holes, map, mouth anus vagina)
God is one, an anagram of money is 'my one': so money is 'my god'
omg=oh my god, O my god (offense, orgasm, oliver)
or owe my god, or God is good without an owe.