Folks, I just had to do a snippet post on what, for some, appears to remind them that what they think is the coming “end times” prophesied in various books of The Bible are in fact coming. The Bible does prophecy plagues in the “end times” and seemingly, for some, the constant mainstream media “news” about this Corona Virus “means” we are in these prophesied times. They can’t help it. Corona Virus is almost all that is on TV news these days. I have also noticed various YouTube preacher channels claiming we are heading into these “end times.” I will let the reader do this research themselves.
And then there are reports of hoarding toilet paper or fighting in stores over toilet paper. Some states are quarantining drivers from other states that have large numbers of Corona Virus victims just because–Texas, where I live, is one of those. In fact, far west Texas, which has no Corona Virus cases at all (except El Paso County), is doing the same “shelter in place” scenario that large cities are doing! Just because. The governor of Texas wants it, and the US government also wants it. And folks wonder why we might be living through an end time scenario.
And then you have “conspiracy theorists” (as called by those who would rather just “go along to get along” and to heck with freedom and the right of assembly enshrined in the Bill of Rights and Constitution) claiming what may be true or what may be overblown, that the government is setting up some authoritarian state what with all the panic, little by little. Some say it started with 9-11. Yet, in my opinion, little by little, it’s been going on for longer than that. When I began this trilogy in the 1990s we had “right wing patriot militia” types involved with activities bringing about what were called “standoffs”–Waco, Ruby Ridge and others. So these theories didn’t just start with 9-11. But because of these activities happening, I had to bring them up in my trilogy books, The Prophesied Band most of all. Which leads to the three snippets I will now post.
In the first snippet from the end of Chapter Five of The Prophesied Band, the evil characters Torquay, Mr. X, Mr. Y, and Effingchester are praying to their evil god, Corion, in a dungeon at a sacrificial altar. It is February, 1996. Since the quartet and their minions could not ‘deliver’ the souls of ‘the band of the spoken pact,’ the prodigal band Sound Unltd, as they had vowed to Corion, they prayed for more guidance, and time.
The rotund Baron knelt at his altar and said in a quivering voice, “Corion, our lord, tell us your will that we may serve you.”
The others also bowed to their god.
Still undefined and unseen, Corion spoke through the Baron. “I have destroyed your fellow, Negran. The world’s media will know he perished in a car crash south of London on the 9th of February, 1996. See they know it, X. And know, too, a similar fate awaits those who will not carry out my will.”
Corion, through Torquay, didn’t wait for his servants to gulp with fright. “It is apparent you need my direct assistance to win over this planet. Swami could not deliver to me the band of the spoken-pact. You must still use your influence to get them to turn over their record company. I myself will work with them directly. I’ll do whatever it takes to bend them to my will. Each’ll gladly pay with their souls and the souls of all youth by the time I finish with them. Further, I’ll give you the power to win their company. They won’t refuse. They’ll have no choice.”
The others thought with smiling faces.
Mr. X. Economic chaos. Currencies will be ruined. The masses will beg us to save their worthless money. We will bend them to our will. And our will be done!
Mr. Y. Companies not already under our control will collapse unless the owners bow to us. We’ll control it all!
Effingchester. I will again own the Hovels folks—and all the masses of the world. And that drummer who defiled my family will be served on my most prized gold platter. I will gladly consume him while his Tina, my beloved wife, watches in horror! His heart laughed.
Corion went on. “I will now take my place in this realm among you mortals. As you fulfill your duty, you will know who I am in this world. I will be a healer the world’s populace will follow, for it is written. In time you’ll know for sure, and you’ll complete my will. And then you’ll sit at my right hand.”
The elect smiled with drooling mouths and blazing eyes.
“Or I will gnaw your bones forever.”
The second snippet, from the beginning of Chapter Seven of The Prophesied Band, has pop culture pundit and narrator of The Prophesied Band, Jay Elliot, hearing about end time scenarios on his car radio heading home in the fictitious city of Richmont, California, summer, 1998.
Now the preachers were sure of it. Seven years of tribulation were upon us. Half-way through this period in which Apocalypse’s fabled four horsemen—war, famine, pestilence, and death—would ride roughshod over sinner and saint alike, the Anti-Christ would reveal himself. All but the most devout of God would fall under his evil spells.
Until finally the Messiah would come again to save the devout.
People were urged to buy video- or audio-taped ‘wills’ for those ‘left behind.’ Some new-agers prepared welcome sites in deserts for enlightened ‘visitors’ in ‘rainbow ships’ whom would allow them to reach their ‘tenth consciousness.’
And those who would wait out the tribulation until the Second Coming or go down fighting some nebulous ‘new order’ of ‘illuminated ones’ dug in with guns and butter. Membership in militias, according to various cable news networks, grew into the millions. Media darlings as well as media outcasts warned of states of emergency almost daily. Race riots spread from city to city.
The final snippet has Elliot driving to a gala at the palatial home, St. Xenos, of new age cult leader Cole Blessing, who is also possessed by that evil god Corion. It is late May, 2000. He is driving through a military-styled check point, one of several. From Chapter Eight of The Prophesied Band.
One night in a strange, cold California spring in perilous times, late May, 2000
I drove my car south from my house to St. Xenos for the most important opulent soiree the year witnessed, thinking this might be the last grand party ever.
Up ahead I saw red brake lights from a long line of cars going through one of the several checkpoints on the highway. This was my second such stop.
I heard from at least two cars’ stereo speakers a monster mega-hit from the recent past, on a night and in times like these. A song of jack-booted beat, vicious undertone of bass and sinister metallic strings—Sound Unltd’s ‘Blue Division.’
The global cops come in ‘peace’ to take us away.
A foot in your face, a deadly embrace.
When they inject your ‘mark,’
They eject your rights.
Then they’ll own your soul.
And never once did you put up a fight
Against the Blue Division.
A blue-uniformed law enforcer with a strange insignia on his shoulder patch stopped my car to check my driver’s license. I turned my stereo down.
“Driver license, plis.” The young man had a Russian accent.
I had it ready to show him. Held it out. He took it over to the nearby scanner to inspect the thumb-print, bar code, and national ID number all American driver’s licenses now contained. The card also had a retinal print, a voice print, and all identifying info anyone could possibly want. A national ID card.
He came back. “Are you US citizen, plis?”
“Absolutely, I’m an American.”
“Okay,” he said with a small wave on. “Rock all night.” He laughed.
I did not drive away. “Huh? What was that?”
“Rock all night.” Short laugh. “You know, the song. ‘Rock all day, rock all night, ‘til you get a heart attack’.”
“Oh, yeah, the song. A biggie. You like Sound Unltd?”
“Yes, I got all their CDs.”
Who knows? I might be able to use this line to get this guy to let me through on the way back. “Listen, I’m going to the bash at St. Xenos tonight. Erik Manning’s gonna be there. I’ll get his autograph for you.”
“Really? You do that?”
“Yeah. You can have it if I get to drive through here on the way home. And all the other checkpoints. Okay?”
“I’ll try. Okay?”
I was waved through the next two checkpoints.
At the last one, I saw an unmarked windowless bus parked off to the left side of the checkpoint. A line of people chained ankle to ankle were being loaded onto it.
Before I conclude this post let me state why I believe all this “lock down” or “shelter in place” activity goes against freedom of assembly. If the lock down or shelter in place is voluntary, fine, I have no problem with that, and, in fact, where I live (the mountains of far west Texas surrounded by nature), shelter in place doesn’t need a government decree! I do it all the time! It is when a lock down or shelter in place is mandatory, and to heck with freedom of movement, is when I think the government has gone too far. There will be those who think this is a great idea and those who won’t. For some, especially introverts like myself, this is not a problem, but for some–especially victims of house abuse by a spouse or a parent or guardian or those who live alone and are lonely or have anxiety issues–this is not a good idea! A week or two is okay, but a month or more? Over a health condition that is no more dangerous or deadly than a seasonal flu? No wonder folks are coming up with “conspiracy theories” about an authoritarian police state! And will vaccines be forced on everybody at some point? If that happens, one can guarantee it that those “end times” folks (and there are YouTube videos about this as well) will call this ‘the mark of the beast!’ Or something…
May I now remind the reader of this truth that is also stated in my trilogy: with Good, you have a choice; with Evil you do not have a choice. Though you are led to believe you have a choice, it is deception.
And here is another choice: you can purchase The Prodigal Band Trilogy at any one of the links at the Bookstore here. Or, you can download the FREE PDF version of the final trilogy novel The Prodigal Band to read while you “shelter in place” (or not) here.
The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.
Photo credit: “A Test of Our Progress” monument to the Great Depression of the 1930s at a history museum in Washington, DC, © 2009 by Deborah Lagarde.