The Konformist

July 2002

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Part XIX


Jaye C. Beldo



*Please Note: If you have been reading the McHajj series you are probably tired of scrolling through this disclaimer chapter after chapter. However, please bear with me. My AAD or Advertising Affective Disorder for those of you new to McHajj has now taken on metaphysical dimensions as you will see below. Madison Avenue has officially colonized the Supramental plane of consciousness. Not only have they invaded my unconscious mind but the lofty, trans-personal spiritual realms I strive so arduously to realize and integrate as well. I really have no place to escape now and am asking for your help. AAD is a serious disorder that may effect anyone living in a predatory capital intensive environment. I call it the silent affliction because millions may be suffering from AAD but know not what it is or where to go for help. Reading McHajj may be a good place for starters. Thank you for your concern! Corporate psychological trespassing in the form of advertising is a violation of our constitutional rights.


The pope in the casket is wheeled out into the noon time sun of Vatican Square. The milling crowd hushes instantly when they see the Pillsbury Doughboy and Osama behind Ronald McDonald. Osama jumps up on the casket, kisses and then holds the Doughboy high above him, for all to see.

"People of Rome.....we are no longer behind closed doors. We filibustered a deal that will be of great benefit to all of you." Osama yells in perfect Latin. Ronald McDonald opens the casket as Osama jumps off.

"I am now the Once and Future Pope. And in order to prove it, I will now raise Lazarus from the grave." Osama puts the Doughboy on his shoulder and then waves his hands like a stage magician. Slowly the pope rises from the casket, stands up, takes his canonicals off like a stripper and hands them to Osama, who puts them on. They fit the Al Qaeda CEO perfectly. Kenneth Lay, wearing a Bishop's costume, emerges from the crowd and hands Osama a Crozier. The pope weakly waves good-bye to the faithful, climbs back into the casket and Ronald McDonnell closes the lid. The Doughboy hops off of Osama's shoulder, goes over to the casket and pushes a button shaped like a crucifix. The casket is ejected straight upwards only to arc towards Mecca when it hits the ionosphere, leaving behind scintillating chem trails which modulate into rainbow hues causing the crowd to gasp in atmospheric wonder. On a giant video screen, all watch the casket crash land on top of the Ka'Ba. A security guard brings the naked, bone broken pope off of the giant cube and takes him inside where he curls up in a fetal position on the sacred meteorite within.

The crowd back in Rome is dead silent. Not even the doves in the belfry high above make a noise.

"Misericordia Domini inter pontem et fontem." The pope whispers to the sacred Ka'Ba stone and expires. Suddenly the pilgrims outside all stop their circling and genuflect towards Rome. Translated into a wave field equation: the Pope's ad lib mojo has Islam on its knees.

Osama hops back up on the bier, still smoking from the ejection of the pope. "Non sibi se omnibus." He says in Arabic and all present in Vatican Square start circumabulating the makeshift Allah in Canonicals. All the faithful in Mecca watch this metanoia on a giant video screen as well and fall silent, unable to grasp its portent.

Dick Cheney crawls out of the church, defying the debilitating effects of the Fatima Anthrax and starts walking towards Osama. He is followed by George W. When they reach the bier on which Osama stands, they are promptly knighted. Osama touches their shoulders with his Crozier.

"I now pronounce you man and wife."

"I told you we'd work out a deal Mr. Bin Laden. Now we want the serial rights to your mass conversion here. You've got a labor force at hand that is virtually unlimited. The market cap on this corporation will be astronomical. We just need to set up some sweat shops and we're in business. However, we need to have you face in the direction of Gaza now and spew out some of your Latin gibberish."

"But you misunderstand me. It is happening already." Osama says and points to the video screen. The Catholic Pilgrims in Mecca start migrating towards Israel, feeling the pull towards the new magnetic north on their spiritual compass.

"Well then, let it happen. Little do they know that they are really headed for Northern Ireland where they will be greeted by a nice Protestant army there just waiting to get even." George W. says and turns to high five Dick. "But if you give us full oil drilling rights in Afghanistan, we promise to divert them anywhere you want."

"Speaking of're going to need to do some serious sleight of hand when your very own foreknowledge of 9-11 is investigated by the authorities." Osama says to George W.

"I had no foreknowledge of you, nor you of I." George W. says with fluid eloquence.

"People of Rome." Osama says in Arabic, then in Latin. "As your new Pope: Field Marshall von Laden I command you to take up arms for our Holy War." Osama points in the direction of China.

"Hold on von Laden. You leave China out of this. They never enter into the consciousness of the American masses anyways. I suggest diverting your army here to Russia. Georgia to be exact."

"....and Russia enters into the consciousness of the American masses? I doubt it. Start marching to Shanghai my people." Osama yells. "New episodes of Survivor will insure that you will remain unmolested."

"We just need some diplomacy here." Ronald McDonald chuckles. "I suggest we all convene in North Korea and air our differences. I mean...our franchise is on the endangered list for Christ's sake."

"Non omnis moriar."

"Huh? Who said that?" The Pillsbury Doughboy asks looking around for the source of the voice. On the video screen the naked pope is seen emerging from the Ka'Ba. But Mecca is empty. He starts circumambulating the Ka'ba, all alone, weeping.

"So you want me to send my army to America? Is that what you are saying?" Osama asks, getting the hint.

"Market cap.....remember the market cap." Dick Cheney winks at Osama.

"Don't worry...I'll give you Carte Blanche. But there needs to be a third conversion." Osama says, putting a Yarmulke on his head and dancing like the Fiddler on the Roof.

"But there are only two options for the third party." The Marlboro Man says walking towards the group. He starts snapping a bull whip. "There should be three." He says and sits on the bier. "Judaica should convert into Mormonism if you know what I mean. Just get the 2002 Winter Olympic committee to mumble some of that Latin towards sempiternal Zion and see what happens. We may all be able to kick back in seventh heaven after all."

"But you would have to make that third option available to the others to be fair?" The Doughboy says, catholically. "You'll probably have to use the 'by any means necessary' approach to get Zion to convert to Islam."

"No....that would not be my intent. I think that the after effects of the Harmonic Convergence in 1987 will insure world peace if we just allow our unconditional love to effervesce." Osama observes, using his newfound multidimensional perceptions, not to mention intuitive skills as well.


To be continued

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Kirby The Konspiracy Boy Says, "I NEED 2 KONFORM!!!"