Virtual Illusions

HIGH LORD ZEN

Well, this will be my last issue. My time has come and gone. Perhaps someone noticed my existence. Deep down I know I didn’t teach or impart upon you anything that you will keep past leaving the bathroom, but I hope I at least entertained. At least some of you. I don’t really have any great parting thoughts or philosophies to leave you as my legacy, at least none you would care to hear or have. So instead, I’ll do letters. Maybe something insightful will come while responding to these.

Our first letter of the night is by Rael. Rael, since you continue to write to me I can only hope that you find my rambles in the least bit amusing, and I want to thank you for writing me and making me feel that someone out there was reading the drek I produced all those many nights. Anyway, onto the letter.

High Lord Zen,

Sometimes I sit at night and I start at the stars and wonder what it would be like to be in Waco, Texas with David Koresh and I wonder how he does laundry if he has no bank to run down and get quarters from and I wonder if Waco is where Steve Schillinger is going to, drawn by the irresistible force of the new Messiah, and I wonder how the new Messiah got the job and I wonder if he saw it in a classified ad, and then I wonder if Steve Schillinger is going to write the Hughes News for David Koresh, maybe the Jesus Junior Journal, and I wonder where you’ll be Zen, and I wonder who I’ll write to next year, and I wonder will you ever answer all these questions?

- Rael

Well it seems perfectly obvious that Koresh’s clothes are never washed as they have touched the Messiah. It would be a mortal sin to clean off the relics of the chosen one. In 2000 years they will be priceless religious artifacts. Yeah…and I may live happily ever after. Well, now that I’m retiring, Steve will need to report the wisdom of a new messiah. And he is going to Texas…Pretty suspicious if you ask me but no one ever does. As for how he got the job…Well he was walking along one day and God came to him and said “Dave, babe. It’s like this…I want you to go to Waco, Texas…no, not Wacko, Waco, and get’s lots of guns. Then get a bunch of really devoted fanatics. I want you and the fanatics to start a rock band…no, go forth and multiply. I want you to build an army and start a new crusade.” Koresh heard all of this, that the Lord had said…He thought for a moment and then said, “Oh, gee, ok, I guess.” On a more serious note, I can’t talk about the “cult” because I’d annoy too many people. And well, I just don’t feel like doing that right now.

As to the question of where I’ll be…I don’t know. Maybe I’ll have my own alleyway somewhere. A place to sit and scream obscenities to the rich college students who pass by. Maybe I’ll be dancing with the stars and living my strange life. Seeing fire in Heaven and light in Hell. Maybe an Angel will come down to me and we shall share a kiss…and maybe it won’t be a Succubus. But some how I doubt any of these lives will be mine. I’ll wander aimlessly from place to place…never achieving comfort but never truly experiencing real pain. When the end comes, I will just have existed, not changing or doing anything, before moving on like any other vagrant.

I hope I’ve addressed most of your questions, at least for now and maybe the writer of the next letter can answer them with more skill than I ever had.

Dear Zen,

It has recently come to my attention that the position of rabble-rouser and general inciter of riots, AKA the High Lord Zen Column, will be vacant in the coming semester. I am interested in attempting to follow in your footsteps by filling this position. Being your creator, and a minor deity myself, I feel that I am in the most adventitious position to fill this role. My qualifications are numerous and I would greatly appreciate the chance for you to evaluate my resume and writing sample.

The Lady of the Loft
#5 The Loft Vicinity of the Ping Pong Table
Zanadu, Ethiopia

References divined upon request

And I am replaced just that easily. I’m not even dead yet and people want my crown, my scepter, and my extensive collection of stuffed frogs. Well, my lady, let me just finish burying myself and they are all yours. I’ll send you my will along later.

I suppose that means there has to be a eulogy.

I knew Zen like I know myself. He was a simple man. Perhaps he was tending to be long winded and boring, but at least it was something to read if I already read the comics. I suppose I should make this some sort of ending with a bang. But no, I believe I die with a whimper. Perhaps it’s hard for you to understand what I see as clearly a death of part of my life. A part that gave me as much pleasure as it gave..well, me. The amount of time and effort I put into writing is more than I put into most classes. I don’t think you can see how much it has grown a part of me. Don’t try and understand…Just know it hurts to stop.

I suppose there is just one last thing to clear up and that is my identity. I know everyone (except one) who really cares already knows, but humor me anyway. I am…

Sir High Lord Zen
Knight of the Ping Pong Table
Defender of Wilted Plastic Roses
Resident of 223 Hughes Hall
Todd Kusterer
Lost Child.

HLZ