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The adventure continues!

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The Sketch of Sam Monroe is a weird fiction thriller. Follow the adventures of five quirky Black Ops pharmacologists as they globetrot their way to the Mato Grosso jungles. Philosophy, psychedelics, and banter are infused throughout this literary comic-book.

“How old are these stories?” Graham asked tapping Fabre’s Bible.

“Depends on a lot of factors…” Cook said puzzling over the possibilities.

“Which stories are you referring to exactly?” Bohm inquired.

“Soddom and Gomorrah.”  Hoyt replied.

“Buttstuff.” Sam sniggered.

“Well, I honestly have no idea.” Cook said. “It’s not my area.”

“Do you think they are original?”

“The stories from the Bible?”

Graham nodded.

“The modern convention suggests that some are borrowed from earlier civilizations such as Sumeria. And I believe that Abraham’s origin is somewhere around Iraq.”

“If the children of Israel borrowed from Sumeria. Is it possible that Sumeria also borrowed.”

“Certainly, but that isn’t archeology…that’s sheer speculation.”

“Of course.” Graham exhaled smoke. “But entertain the thought.”

“Ok.”

“Who is God?”

“Christ.”

“His Father?”

“Yahweh.”

“Who is Yahweh?”

Cook shook his head.

“Baruch…Elohim…Adonai.”

“I am not Jewish.”

“Neither am I…but you see how we got trinitarian…and then downright polytheistic.”

We were all blankfaced.

“Do you really not remember my uncle’s record?”

It was so long ago. We were again blankfaced.

“Names, divine identities, these are human inventions, they are descriptors of the indescribable. Something that can never be grasped. Grandeur that one cannot gaze upon. What happens when you gaze upon it?”

“You are burned away…by the glory of the most High.” Fabre piously muttered.

Hoyt smiled his Cheshire smile, “…and what happened to them?” He jerked his thumb towards the monitors.

“You are suggesting that this is the site of Sodom?”

“What was Sodoms sin?”

“Buttstuff!” Sam repeated excitedly.

“Which is the first commandment?”

“Thou shalt have no other gods….”

“What presumption is implied by gazing upon the face of God?”

“Omnipotence, omniscience, a Luciferian entitlement.”

Hoyt nodded. “There is something of the cleric about you Doctor.”

“I fail to see what this has to do with anything here.”

“They were burned away and something fertile grew in its stead. Something fertile and primitive…a humbling occurred.”

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The adventure continues!

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The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 8.5 – The Good Divers Always Live

The Sketch of Sam Monroe is a weird fiction thriller. Follow the adventures of five quirky Black Ops pharmacologists as they globetrot their way to the Mato Grosso jungles. Philosophy, psychedelics, and banter are infused throughout this literary comic-book.

The tent was hastily assembled on the periphery of what we surmised to be a drowning pool. Syncretism wasn’t unthinkable but it still surprised Cook to see Mayan rites along an Incan road through Kuikuro lands. That is if that’s what we were currently seeing on our monitors.

“So you don’t have to preprogram it?” Lobo was incredulous.

“Nah, this Israeli shit is pretty good.”

“South Korean.” Lucas corrected.

“Jointly developed.” I finished.

“So..100 feet…there’s no way radio waves can penetrate the water…”

“Ultrasound.”

“Yep, that’s real time response.” Lucas said proudly. His brother in law headed up R&D in Seoul.

We hovered over the submarine ossuary. It was a grim show indeed. I counted at least seven skulls. Who knew how many more lay beneath the silt?

“These aren’t children’s bones.” Bohm said.

“So it’s not likely that it’s Incan.” Cook elaborated.

“Either way that’s bad Voodoo.” Fabre said clutching his Gris-gris. I smiled at the syncretism among syncretism. A Catholic holding an IslamoPagan charm for protection against Mayan wells in the green hell.

“There is no sign of trauma?” Bohm stated and asked simultaneously.

“Not that I can see.” Cook replied.

“We’d see a lot better if we were down there.” Sam whinged.

“With the roots, silt, and currents?” Lobo challenged drily.

“With dignity, manhood, and not being a little pussbag.”

“Idiot.”

“Did you note the discoloration?” Graham surprised us.

“…no…but now that you mention it…”

“This couldn’t be any clearer.” Hoyt said flatly.

“…phh..hm…well why don’t you just tell us then.” Cook was beginning to get irritated.

“It would be unsportsmanlike.” Graham Hoyt replied exhaling smoke.

“O?”

“Tell me doctor have you ever been to the Ganges?”

“Yes. Many times.”

“Did you witness the pyres?”

“Si.”

“Well, than it’s all in hand.”

Cooks face took on a look of extreme concentration. Just as I was sure the vein on his forehead would burst he exclaimed. “Pugilistic positioning.”

He extended a finger toward a skeletal forearm and fist.

“They were burned.”

“I am not aware of any Mesoamerican rite involving fire.” Bohm said.

“It wasn’t a rite.” Hoyt added in his detached way.

“Shit!” Sam cried out. “I had a dream about a fire last night…they…they were trying to escape the fire.”

Graham smiled.

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Thanks for reading and check back soon for more.

Email| mellow.mission.productions@gmail.com

Minds | http://www.minds.com/Weirmellow