The two last happy nights of my life


     Preparing for the “Last Happy Night of My Life”, I kneel before the altar of he who has no name. I anoint myself with oils and perfumes and ready my nerves. I sing hymns to light my way. I hope to become one with the sound and fury. I’m going to kill everyone in this room and I am alone. I feel the urge to dance and yet the music is so sad. We are one tonight this is our moment. Here in this city before our lord and savior. He is the one who spells cast the way for us all. “What about the blackbird?” There is an invisible gun in my hand. We are Ronan who have found our master. The true, the devotional, the faithful will blast through the speakers and into our hearts. The mind of a God trapped in the shell of mortal. The coil tightens. It’s all streams of consciousness, but I thought about it before hand. I am a vessel, and the Satanic Messiah has arrived in the form of a troubadour. You see I told you I thought of it ahead of time. I do not know what will happen to me on Saturday but tonight I am alive with heretics’ pride. The banquet for the stray dogs has been set; every moment has led to this. I kneel, I sing, I make light of the feelings that well up inside. My eyes are but boats which have capsized in tears, you do not understand if you have never experienced this yourself. I am on ecstasy I am on mushrooms; I am making my way through a crowd to see the one who has sung the stories of life without ever meeting me. I am Alpha and he is Omega. Praise Be!

In Transit:

       The journey to the altar was arduous and long. The bus I was scheduled at 6:07, but did not arrive until 6:19. The train on the way across the bay was stopped due to a fire on the tracks. And when I arrived my Love was already drunk (or at least buzzed). The second bus was packed and a well dressed lunatic sat across from us bemoaning the state of the Manhattan housing market. When we finally arrived we had to make a detour to a BBQ joint for some potato salad. The two opening acts were horribly boring and anti-climatic. When the Satanic Messiah hit the stage though, all sadness melted away. The pint of whiskey we snuck in had lit the fire in our souls and now the master stoked the embers.

Set list;

  1. Love, love, love
  2. How to Embrace a swamp Creature
  3. Moon over Goldsboro
  4. Heretics Pride
  5. The House That Dripped Blood
  6. Wizard Buys A Hat
  7. Get Lonely
  8. Thank You Mario, But But Our Princess Is In Another castle
  9. Mosquito repellent
  10. SuedHead (yes a Morrissey Song)
  11. Bring Our curses Home
  12. Palmcorder Yajna
  13. San Bernardino
  14. Love Craft In Brooklyn

  I’m sure there were a few more but By this point I was blind with ecstasy and Un able to write down any more. The mixture of booze and the rapturous voice of our lord and savior combined to a joy so rich and pure. My hand long since unsteady and my voice hoarse from singing every word to every hymn. My love took the helm of the camera but I neglected to learn how to focus the damn thing. Sadly we had to depart the presence of (he whose name need not be mentioned) In time to make it back across the bay by train. I vowed that the next night would be different. I would not allow myself to be denied the encore presentational of the sacred word.

The Second “Last Happy Night of My Life”

    The trip to the venue was less perilous than the night before. Though due to circumstances, I was forced to arrive alone. Yet I created the occasion with the same vigor. I aggressively snuck in another small pint of Whiskey and since I was alone I consumed the entirety of my elixir. By the time my beloved had arrived and the master took the stage I was well into a drunken haze. There were an older couple of new initiates to my left, who shared some of their herbs with me and a young neophyte to my right who struggled to mimic the words of older hymns. I was too deep into the throes of religious fervor to write out a set list and too timid of words marked on a website to bring my camera. I instead let go any responsibilities and sang out with the Messiah till my voice was as gravelly as a truck stop waitress in 1973. The night was beautiful and we made it all the way through the encore before trekking back to the East side of the Bay. Time had eaten away my energy and I slept like a child for a few hours before heading back to work in the kitchen, Day dreaming all the while of the revival that had taken place. How the music and words moved each and everyone within ear shot. The presence and grace of the one. How he actually danced and gave response to my cat calls. The heaven I glimpsed was brief but one day I know I will be blessed to gaze upon the visage (of he who has no need for set list), for five nights in a row. The lord and savior of us all has left the area but never fear. I learned from a fellow devote where to obtain the first rare tapes. I am as you read this most likely downloading them all now.

Now playing: The Mountain Goats – Alpha Omega
via FoxyTunes

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