The Gospel According to Judas - A Handbook on Life

In any case, I found out that I have attained a state of enlightenment. Of a Taoist variety; I call it watercourse. I have discussed it with Siddhartha, the original Buddha, and Lao-tzu. Others, as well, and I have asked them what particular brand of enlightenment they had subscribed to. Some of them before I asked only thought there was one type to be had, to be achieved. Two off hand I know of, one being “be not but do, do not but be” (your basic contract for enlightenment), and the one I follow, “be not but love, do not but love”, which derives from the previous. My answer to the koan, “Two hands can be brought together in a clapping sound. What is the sound of one hand?” is simply, “Listen.”

Do you now wonder about faith? How can you wish all the wrongs done you to be redressed, while all the wrongs you do to be overlooked? Yet this is the way people think; I know I have thought in this exact way. What will you believe when you face your Maker on the day of judgement? For we will be naked, of body, mind, soul, and spirit on that Day. Without excuse, will we all be. Do you wish to prepare for such an event? This is wisdom. Forgive, as you want to be forgiven. Learn how to let it go, all the petty things. If they come back, let it go again. Until you are free.

Hey, you want to do something really outrageous? Play by the rules and win. Because Nietzsche and Dostoevsky were wrong: they thought that the rules did not apply to those who were considered “great”, somehow that they played by their own rules, or none at all. False. I say it is the reverse, that those who consider themselves great, that the rules apply all the more to them. The greater you are, the more strict should be your code of conduct. If you’re so great, it shouldn’t be a problem, right? Or are you not so great, after all?

There was this one time when I felt I must prostrate myself, and seemingly to collect everyone within my prostrate form, in a prayer. I felt people/etc. joining me, and I forget what it was the prayer I prayed, but after the “Amen”, I said, “All.” As if to indicate that I felt that all were with that prayer I prayed. I suppose it had something to do with the War, how I acted purely by instinct, not really knowing why I was acting as I was. I wonder what effect it had. If it were of God, I could presume that it did what it was supposed to do. One of the strange things I did, that still is more or less a mystery to me.

I was possessed of what I like to call “fugues” back when, now and again. One was of a person I knew, who got involved somehow in my controversy in my visions. In the fugue, he called himself DEMON. He ended his speech with “I am DEMON, hear me.” One was strangely enough in praise of Adolf Hitler. I really don’t know where that one came from, but I was known to do very stupid things early when I was overtaken by these visions of mine. I also remember praying to Alice Walker, the author who wrote The Color Purple. That one I don’t feel bad about at all. But definitely do I have regrets for some of my deeds and misdeeds. Even if they only did happen (for the most part) inside my head.

Much I did with music. When this started for the second time, I remember listening to a violin concerto by Mozart, and I (on the fly) added another violin to the tune in my mind, completely original, in keeping with the melody. It was often to put essence behind the music, through the vocals, through the instruments, into the hearing of it, so that it packed emotive impact. As Beethoven once told me, one must drive the music. So for me, I will have no magic wand, but a conductor’s baton. Like unto playing guitar in the style of Hendrix and Satriani, instrumentals that they never played, perfectly rendered in the sound of my visions.

I am a prophet in the order of Philip K. Dick, whom you know as my best friend in the HALOSPACE. You know the man, I’m sure: Blade Runner, Total Recall, A Scanner Darkly, among others? Reality becomes more and more a Dickian place, and more and more of his stories are being made into movies. He provided us with two very important phrases: “We have always already won” and “The theory changes the reality it describes”. He sent these messages into the ether, and I am happy to say that they were well received, by me. Great and useful the teachings of him, whose name is Saint Jude the Tuned Out (whereas I am Saint Jude the Tuned In). I wonder what all he saw. Seeing as I myself saw some awesome things. Just awesome.

So, supposedly it goes something like this: that which I started all this with, “Judas volunteered”, that is supposed to be the gnosis, the saving knowledge. What I am told is that this one idea makes all of the Bible comprehensible, for it all to make sense. If the Gospel is so different from reality that it depicts Judas nothing like having volunteered, then realizing that as actuality lets you use correct lenses to view any information regarded as holy. I know I for one I cannot ignore those two words. They have gravitas that seems to invoke a certain clarity, a certain verisimilitude. You should not ignore them, either. Sanity often seems like one is breaking the rules.

The only time a dream ever told me to do something was when I was shown a picture of this crucifix pendant I had, which fit to be worn on a necklace. It was given to me by a nun, when I was emerging from the pit of shame that I had descended into. I was told to give it to my friend who went by the handle Strawberry, who lived in New England. Upon waking from this petite-vision, I immediately emailed her and asked for her address. You don’t ignore things like these. When she received it, she gave me great thanks, saying how it was meaningful to her, because it contained some of my pain. Such is HALOSPACE.

One note about love, as I perceive it: Love is so simple, we’ll never understand it. And a potentially mind-blowing concept would be that it is simpler than nothing. Why there is something instead of nothing may be seen because of that imagination. One might wonder how such a thing is possible, but kabbalists already hold that the true God, whom they refer to as En Sof (the endless), does not exist in the way that we think of existence being. Connecting the dots, this is what conjecture that we come up with. Such radical simplicity, which we will never fully comprehend the subtlety.

To those who say they do not believe in the Resurrection because there have been other mythological tales of ones rising from the dead by their own wills: there have been myths throughout history, if we look, that became actual works when technology caught up to the idea. What I posit is that there were stories about people coming back from the dead (on their own, not raised by another), but Jesus Christ was the only one who had the technology to actually make it happen. Only God in man’s form, only the Son of God had the capability of defeating death. And perhaps we even have the proof, if the Shroud of Turin is the record of the Resurrection itself. (Embrace the strange.)

I once had a peek at the crucifixion, very near to the actual nailing. It wasn’t full Technicolor, more of a cartoony view, as I usually have, but I saw in my small vision Christ carrying his cross on his way to Golgotha, or up Golgotha, uncertain exactly where on the path he was. He was almost completely facing me. He paused, and he looked at me as I looked at him. A small pause. Then he carried on. And that was it. I can’t imagine that I could have done anything for him, just then, and I got first hand why it was the apostles scattered when he was captured. I could just watch. And then he moved on.