I wrote a book

A long long time ago, okay 1983, a friend of mine by the name of Michael O’ Sullivan told me he thought the only two things that could bring human-kind together would be A) an alien invasion or B) a genuine messiah. He also told me that explained his initial distrust in the myth of christ. He said, “If he would have been the real thing everyone would’ve believed him.” That one really soaked in for a few years so by the time I was a junior in college a story had more or less resolved in my imagination. I told my friend Ann that, “when I make myself lunch everyday I fantasize about a rock and roll messiah named W.A. Steinway. A real messiah one who communicated through music that everyone loved.” While I was building my lunch- there was a whole lot of pb&j back then- I would set up scenes so by the time I was sitting and eating I could play out dialogue in my head like we were talking over a meal. Ann was a writer herself and she told me that food preparation was actually a deeply creative and meditative state and what was happening to me was quite normal for a freaky person like myself. The story was called W.A.S. and it went like this. The protagonist- a dude, a white dude, (sorry it was the ’80’s and I was in Oklahoma with very little access to people of color or culture in my very insulated community I get it), Anyway, our so called- musical-christ- has returned to human kind after a prolonged unexplained hiatus (not at all unlike Robert Redford in The Natural) to write one final piece for Earth and Humanity before he dies at the hands of his best friend.[…]

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