Karma, Purgatory, Bureaucracy


Karma, Purgatory, Bureaucracy

“Just another number”.

Be there “no Karma about it” but THE RECENTLY DECEASED will hit that old after-life office with the thud of paperwork.

(Reminds me of the ole’ Social Security office)

Franz Kafka couldn’t have said it better, whether just the victim is mad or “THE SYSTEM”, itself is even crazier. . . . . and remember, that guy in the “Metamorphosis” story did turn into an insect. OR EVEN A BEETLE.

A lot of people “kill time” in the waiting room, bearing the incarnation they took when “struck-down, mortally”. The visual cue—its own kind of karma whether you’re a shrunken-head on the leash of a witch-doctor as it didn’t end well for the big game hunter.

Don’t go smoking in bed, either—or take poison which will turn you into an icky, translucent green like the secretary behind the sliding window.

Perky, pert, and sarcastic—if not despondent in this perfect illustrated example of the mind/body and material/spiritual splits that cleaves the world into an alienated hell.

Ole’ Beetlejuice pops his head in and takes a seat. I’d imagine him probably sticking his hand down the front of his pants like Al Bundy in “Married with Children”. Half-resourceful or maybe just fool-hardy “no one will notice” as he lopes across the parking lot to grab a cooler of beer.

You’d imagine he’d only lose his place in line.

Solely the balance between evidence and lyricism can allow us to achieve simultaneous emotion and lucidity. . . . . but there he hollers at his loss.

In this last week, we’ve lost Chris Cornell—the singer from Soundgarden—and Roger Ailles—the chairman of Fox News. Only out of an episode of “Adult Swim” could these figures every encounter each other.

The moody rock singer leans up on the chair, hang-dog with his hands stretched over his knee while the right-wing chieftain tries to bluster and glad-hand his way out of federal commitment for dinner reservations “elsewhere”.

There’s only a few things certain in this life. . . . . death, taxes, and irate constituents.

End up here and you have to meet your quota of lingering, ghostly “overtime” back on earth. Spook the hell out of the living for a spike of adrenaline and ecto-residue that kicks into your early retirement, building enough parasitically-fueled power to ascend up the spiritual pyramid to eternal bliss.

Sounds like Medicare and Social Security.

You’ll pay though. . . . . they’ll take everything “but the squeal”.

Death. Taxes. Hollywood sequels. . . . .

Welcome to America. You could die laughing. . . . .


“No dream”, kid. This was your life! Remember to Linger in the graveyard and pick the daisies before summoning for pizza on the Ouija board.

Karma, Purgatory, Bureaucracy

Geena Davis as “THE EXORCIST”

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St. Louis. . . . . the grassy outskirts, on the edge of the rising skyline. . . . . WHERE DEMONS WALK THE EARTH.

We may simultaneously be both the most blessed and backwards state in the union when it comes to wild-cat religiosity with all sorts of sanctified holy-rolllers. Casting out demons on local cable access t.v. programs as you could have a mixture of clap-board theater, self-taught demonology, and mental aberration for growling lost souls and any rabble of charity cases.

It’s all about on the production level of Beetlejuice’s yard—like flashing lights, arrow-signs, and checkered flags on the outskirts of civilization—a no man’s land of improvised sales pitches and gravel-pit roads. Like graveyards and landfills across the field from flea-market heaven.

That’s good and all—but when you really have a confounding problem you have to turn it over to the big guns of Western Civilization—The Catholic Church and not the roadside snake-farm.

A bit of ritual is in order. . . . . with the frocks, chalices, and holy water. It perfectly fits in with this town, as St. Louis  speaks of graveyard dirt and haunted, pallorous secrets with breweries, the stinking river, and insane asylums.

And believe it or not, but the actual “Exorcist case” happened here at the old Alextion Bros. Hospital.

Imagine, now—an Alcoholics Anonymous 12-Step program meeting in a boiler-room, somewhere and an old groundskeeper volunteering “his piece”.

“I’m Joe Carletto. . . . . I’m an alcoholic but I don’t believe in any of this ‘higher power’ stuff. This support group may help me, for what it’s worth—but I mostly don’t believe it. THANK-YOU”.

But he couldn’t explain, for the life of him—what actually happened that night back in 1949. He was working maintenance as the excitement went on, upstairs. The only thing he’ll say is that they couldn’t control the temperature of the room as it dipped into freezing hellishness no matter how much they stoked the boilers.

He shakes his head and sits back down. . . . . not saying more.

Except for the child’s head twisting-around 360 degrees, it really happened. Only it was a young boy and not Linda Blair. The knocking beds, the levitating possession victim, the projectile-vomiting.

And now Geena Davis stars in a t.v. show based on the original “Exorcist” movie from 1973. . . . . and you can bet that her co-star, Beetlejuice “saw it 167 times. . . . . and how it keeps getting funnier EVERYTIME HE SEES IT”.

But Geena Davis steals the show, this time. Ever goofy, like a sharp fang and a corona of high-intelligence clarified by her beanpole height and open mind she returns to supernatural television. Read an interview with her—a fun gal to be around.


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Geena Davis as “THE EXORCIST”

BJ: Faith-Healer & Televangelist

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Seen, up at @


A book description that reads as follows:

Learn how to make a fortune as a religious con artist. This lucrative career has sustained countless scoundrels, frauds and hucksters for millennia. If you play the part right, you will be blessed with riches, power, prestige and sex.

Discover the easy, inexpensive ways to get religious credentials (and the tax-free status that goes with them), how to develop your following, how to tailor your message for maximum gain and how to weasel out of trouble when your lavish lifestyle or personal misconduct hits the fan.

Your victims will be the feeble, the old, the poor and the desperate, so this is for people with no conscience whatsoever. Get ready to stare into the hopeful faces of the lame and the terminally ill and lie, convince working people to send you their last five or ten bucks by telling them that God will return the donation a hundredfold and rob nursing home residents of what little they have as they hang on to every word you say. In return, you will give them a good show, a temporary emotional high and a hefty dose of false hope. And you will be one rich SOB!

Whether you’re actually considering a career in televangelism or just studying their methods to protect yourself or a loved one, you’ll find page after page of shocking, amusing and heartbreaking true stories from the world of religious chicanery.

Hold on to your seats, folks

Something tells me that a streak of Beetlejuice lives in motor-mouthed televangelism and other fast-talk as he could literally “fall out of his Beelzebub ways” with a laying-on of hands for a quick conversion– moving in all ways holy and dubious “as a transformed creature”.

Casting out demons, as it were– as 666 devils, goblins, snakes, and lizards pop out of his mouth in bottomless evil down at the ole’ revival tent. Spirits bump against heads of parishioners and bounce about like crazy as you have a real exorcism going on, there.

He sees the light! Now, in a cheap suit with his hair flying rotted and wild as always as “Bible Study” theology discussion takes on wild, unscripted directions. (He speaks from extensive, personal experience). Pray, work, and die– as he’s “touched with the spirit” and slathers on “the praise” with bad, rotted teeth– the empty collection plate rattles with a genuine home business– howling with “the anointing” with a touch of werewolf as the most entertaining show on local cable-access television.

A bit of faith-healing with a pinched-brow, a magician’s bag of tricks.

Going around carnivals and selling “patent medicine” from an illegal whiskey still and otherwise being much like a television kids’ show host for a bunch of skeptical, laughing 13 year-old’s as he wraps his arms around their shoulder and lures them into the revival tent– otherwise raving-on against masturbation and the like.

You’ll be rolling with holy-laughter as you haven’t seen a character “so earthy” since John the Baptist, a pinch of brimstone and a thing for cute church secretaries. A divinity degree bought online from a diploma mill as that’s “Pastor Beetle” to you.

A Bonus:

“Attention, K-mart Shoppers–“

Someone uploaded all the Muzak that played, month-to-month at K-mart stores and seems oddly appropriate, at the mention of our bargain-discount buddy as dogged shoppers push their carts down the aisles, “like walking death”.


And also: Miss Winona is as curious about this new Beetlejuice movie as anyone, and wishes that someone would shed light on the subject. Would she consider visiting this website for some genuine inspiration?


Back tomorrow, kids– don’t sign-away your souls as Pastor Beetle would find ways to swindle you with a contract, made “with the devil, himself” as a bit of side business. We prophesize that a fool and his money will be soon parted.

BJ: Faith-Healer & Televangelist