“Quiet down Mr. Barsabbas. Your puddin’ cools at the sill Whilst I be at the portico Chattin’ up a gent what’s got purse Ta challenge Goliat’s scrote Hangin’ thereby but a margin left. Twin sacks As Cain’s be Romulus and Abel’s be Remus Or as Didy be a our Yeshi. So hush while I chat up our pilgrim Ta trim such fruit loose a its vine.. (Turning to rich pilgrim) You want to know me, good sir, For I be very scribe to Kanon Simon, Blind therein, groanin’ ta gum his victuals. The same sicari what make dagger a his pen Or pen a his dagger, Whatever evil be ta sort, Be it aphairesis or ink well. And depose them’s what bear witness a Yeshi ben Pantera By touch or smell or sight or word. What be his cozies and intimates, Cronies and coursers And other what upon he bore. What come ta his flesh ta hang And what come by same flesh ta eat An abomination like ta get one hanged If god or dago procurator got a say in it. Me blind master, Simon, be about all What desire ta ken that Yeshi bugger What at full sight be a the side a John the Baptizer And at the day a the Nazarene’s approach. So these what follow witness What a true god and true church be witness For fear a false prophets a rumor and discord Bond from their own dearth a fables and lies A these transpirations we attest, As I mean Joe what make dilutes and potions Through me and me through him, And deny we such portage a god. And as he be tempted by the devil Long before he made a parable a it. A shaver what be the devil himself some say. Late by gildin’ outcomes as ta appear comely before his flock. And modest For a fable wif a bit a indict a the fancier be a parable What many fancy they see themselves. For a good parable be kin a Hypnos and ta strip a purse Wif a bit a sparrow’s chirpin’ What fortify the peckin’ As our dear Deror be Aeolus hisself. And ain’t we got meat and board thereby. And be stout in our numbers And waves crash and the blood a martyrs Is spilt in our name. That this tale be a two messiahs and a beard, One a denial what nevertheless be subject to bloody recompense. And two, a pretty Magdala’s contrive and tempo As she remain so Queen a the cult As she be gird ta mop and towel up the gore Lest glory seek ta buoy the bob and rise a others Or spark a schism what two pockets need fed. Like this Tarsus what be easy liberty wif the deeds a others And verbose as tales a those What by his own sword cropped When he saw their gold then delivered. A scoldy shite what those he make gaze up Find their cup empty a next swallow. So make need a me and me master, That thy pouch not purse thy back Or bandits press thy throat. Hear him and the true gospel. The word a me Master Simon What’s plundered his porridge by now And wants a damp rag took to his beard. About the Author: Carlo Parcelli has spent 40 years studying the epistemology of science and technology and their effect on the natural world and naturally evolved cultures. He specifically challenged the efficacy of progressive systems of quantification, mathematization, mathematical discretion, formal systems game theory etc., since these elements form the core of the way western man can think about his world and all the limitations such an epistemology implies. Parcelli has written 14 book length poems which embed numerous sources and elaborate in great detail his insights. He has also written numerous articles. Now, he is content to watch the Earth scribble its own Apocalyptic Epic in real time. Having failed to reach virtually anyone concerning his epistemological concerns and seeing the natural world taking its future into its own hands via global climate change, Parcelli embarked on a retelling of the Synoptic Gospels. The Canaanite Gospel is comprised of 88 monologues, primarily eyewitness accounts known as Divine Depositions, recorded by the Apostle Simon Kananaios or Simon the Zealot in the First Century A.D. He currently spends his evenings busking local bars in the Washington DC area dressed as Simon Kananaios, performing his monologues in exchange for drinks and the occasional monetary remuneration. Visit carloparcelli.com for performance videos and more. The 88 published monologues: order through Amazon or Country Valley Press "So's the boys at the pub ask, if he's resurrect, where the fuck is he?"             -Lazarus Poet Vaudevillian Carlo Parcelli _______  The Canaanite Gospel A Meditation on Empire 88 Monologues Country Valley Press / FlashPoint ISBN 978-0-9820196-2-7      $11.95 Earlier versions of the monologues can be found in:   FlashPoint Spring 2010 / Issue 13 For information about live performances of The Canaanite Gospel see our Live Performance online flyer.