...on the dead

...even they get their day

the bastard always found the history of catholicism in the new world fascinating. jesuits and other missionaries try to convert the natives but try to phrase it in a way that the noble savages could understand (because go forbid you assume that the indigenous people think for themselves and all). anyway, pagan rituals bleed into christian rituals and vice versa.

case and point.

day of the dead. ancient mexican death rituals meet up with all saints day and all souls day down a dark alley and honor the dead. it's sometimes playful but always respectful. this alter is where i left a message for my grandparents. along with the boy leaving a message for his grandfather who is also beyond the pale. what did i write them? none of your business. ask them when you pass. it's the sort of thing that is between yourself and the dead. unless of course you don't belive in that sort of shit. but the bastard doesn't know. on the same token, it would be nice if that sort of thing worked out that way.

it's simple enough that it could but, who knows. and yeah, that's my coffee on the floor there. look dick, i'm saving lives here.

—the bastard