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You have found the Anti-Christ Church, or in some circles, The Church of the Anti-Christ. The Anti-Christ is in our Temple and all other Anti-Christs are mere distractions or poser fools. My friends, I will say it again; this is the only Temple that houses The AntiChrist. This site will bring you the Biblical Caliber teachings of "The Fowler", the prophet and vessel of the Anti-Christ. By the order of God The AntiChrist Church is here to end all the religious lines that divide humanity. Through Lord God's orders the AntiChrist will teach humanity to be free from religion. The AntiChrist will destroy all religious laws that have been killing humans. The AntiChrist is coming for those who seek power and recognition by clinging to archaic religious practices. If you are oppressing people through Christianity, Islam, Judasim, Hinduism, Buddhism or any other faith on the planet, the Anti-Christ is coming for you! Prepare thyself for the Anti-Christ has come, and there will be no place to hide. The first law The Anti-Christ shall challenge is what people have come to call, ONE MAN ONE WOMAN laws.
 
The Anti-Christ Church's activities are as follows. Creating and sustaining two organizations simultaneously. One is itself, The Anti-Christ Church, a not-for-profit organization that strives to cultivate and educate religiously disaffected youth.The Church does this through monetary and logistical support along with teachings that are only meant to unlock their creative and hell given spirits! P of the AC is the second organization which handles the corporate and legal business for Tejun Fowler, founder of the Anti-Christ Church. Our interests are reading and writing. Painting and singing, taking this life by its mystical tail and spinning a mystical tale of our own.
THERE IS A BUNCH TO SEE EXPLORE THE LINKS! OPEN AN ACCOUNT!
This place is for the damned, the bastard, the infidel, the wastrel and the sinner. This institution is being built to provide a shelter, haven, outlet for all the little "School Shooter Caliber Kids" and adults. This sanctum is being built to create a viable legal entity that will challenge those who look to rule with religion. This Church will announce, "We of little faith will not let others, blinded by faith, destroy us!" All of Revelations is being realized in this very site, for the Anti-Christ, Tejun Fowler is here and he has proclaimed with the loudest voice, "REVELATIONS IS BULLSHIT!" Love to all the little bastards out there. Open an account today.
Some would say the beginning would have been at his birth. But due to the limit of time and pages, I have to start on a shower floor in a guesthouse in Phoenix, Arizona. Interesting really, the drain must have been clogged because his blood filled it and was actually beginning to pool up. He laughed, realizing he had never taken a shower in this place, so he didn’t know it was clogged. Soft puffs of air were coming back through the drain, causing the blood to froth up looking like a crimson strawberry shake. The suicidal failure adjusted his position in the shower; his bare foot squeaked as it slid through the blood, making a streak, disrupting the tranquility of the pool. He labored to turn his wrists over to examine the veins protruding and pumping blood incredibly slow. A buzzing sound became subtly noticeable, and the edges of his vision were growing fuzzy. Thousands and thousands of honeycomb spots edged into his field of view, almost like a camera fading to black. The shapes danced like boiling water, bringing a blackness that he knew was death. His name was Tejun, and on that day his last conscious act was a smile. What had driven this young man to slice his wrists open and consume a massive amount of prescription drugs designed to make him stable? Life in general, I assume, and failure at life or what he thought life was supposed to be. He had never found a group in which he belonged to. Tejun had been everything from a cowboy to a stoner, but still wandered the Earth alone. Tejun had no religion, no belief structure, and nothing to look up to. He couldn’t bare the reality of being isolated on this Earth. He felt the world’s problems on his shoulders, and he couldn’t shake them off. He saw despair and hate at every turn whaa, whaa, whaa. Above all else, with supreme hypocrisy driving his suicidal hands, Tejun couldn’t stand his fellow humans’ complacent and oblivious natures. Since there was nothing he could do about it, he grew to despise this existence, learning to hate God and this experiment called life. Deciding he wasn’t going to play anymore, he began to show God—God’s experiment in fucking with Tejun’s head—had failed. Almost like bad fiction and as with everything else in his life, he didn’t finish killing himself. His friend Toni came by for a surprise visit, finding him on the shower floor . . . Not really. In a slobbering stupor, a bleeding Tejun asked his sugar daddy to save him. Slinging Tejun over his shoulder, he ran to the car, whisking him away to a hospital, where the doctors used grossly unaffordable means to keep the faggot here in this place. He still hasn’t paid the bill. When he finally awoke, it took him only a moment to realize where he was and what was going on. Then like a dam breaking, Tejun knew that he was still alive, that he had not died, that he had bitched out double time still having to endure long enough to regain the anguish to try to kill himself again. If you were in the room, you could faintly hear his heart turning to black stone and fracturing into a thousand pieces. Tejun’s eyes welled up with tears as he brought his pained wrists to his head, covering his ears to scream. Then the rest—war, pollution, disease, racism, hate, indifference, starving kids, pride, lust, drugs, prostitution, homelessness, greed, and suffering. It filled him instantly, pushing tears from his red eyes and sanity from his sickened mind. Tejun hated this place called Earth and this thing called life because religion had taught him that everything he was, was wrong. Being one of the religion born, he was convinced of God’s laws and reality from childhood. Religious lies that convinced him of his residency in hell, and like the countless millions before him, Tejun had truly succumbed to the religious judgment believing so much in his damnation he almost died. Fortunate really, for all of us, because most people just die, but instead he emerged as the Faggot Prince, although this takes a little more time for him to realize. For a moment he entertained the fantasy that he really had died and that his very own concept of hell was so similar to this place he was being required to remain as punishment. If that was the case, then who was the devil he thought? Tejun’s waxed chest was hollow and empty, his defined arms were weak, and his beautiful body shook and wiggled like a Parkinson’s patient. Full of prescription poison and no real death in sight, he wondered, “Where do I go from here? Straight to the bathroom to grab another rusty razor ending this life that God hates so much?” I still don’t know why, in fact, I’m not sure if he still wants to live, but he decided not to end it. So after he was allowed to leave the hospital, Tejun packed up the two suitcases of the only possessions he owned after twenty-four years on this Earth, and went to Oregon, a state he was raised in, a state where family resided, and a place he could rest. Oregon was full of concerned family oblivious to why he could hate everything so much. None of them really understood their Tejun any longer. Some didn’t even recognize him. The last they had seen of him was on horseback; now he was a fag with problems, someone who would actually wear a bandanna on his head. Tejun couldn’t begin to help them because he didn’t even understand why he was still breathing. Why didn’t he allow himself to die? The answer came when he was staying on his aunt’s ranch. The events leading up to Tejun’s prophet experience in the woods was immediately preceded by a death, a sacrifice perhaps. The old ranch dog had developed a cancerous lump. The merciful baseball size growth was strangling the dog with an agonizing slowness that would rival any manmade torture. With great sorrow, Tejun’s aunt had decided to allow the veterinarian to “put the dog down.” The phrase was amusing to Tejun, or any other phrase that was a merciful term to replace the words, “kill it.” It was something that was designed for the human’s, peace of mind. Tejun didn’t think any victim, animal or human, really cared what the term was. The final result was always the same—cold, motionless, and dead. His aunt was a wonderful, caring woman who always seems to be ceaselessly happy. Never in his entire life had he ever dreaded a meeting with her. She always found a way to make him smile and to make him think. Her views in his eyes may have appeared simple, but for some reason they worked for her, and that’s all that really mattered to Tejun. The dog was dead though, and his Aunt was crying, sobbing, to a point where our suicidal, screw-the-world boy was becoming concerned. It confused him at how tragic he thought it was for someone to miss something so much. Tejun was so disassociated he didn’t even cry when his dog died, hell even at the death of his great-grandma. Tejun’s mother was dead by the time he was one, and his father left him by the time he was four. He was either accustomed to loss or denied it. Either way he refused to let any 'things' death alter his existence. Despite all that, our hero was trying to console his most cherished aunt, a woman who must have been like a mother to him. You see, Tejun doesn’t know a mother’s embrace because he has never physically hugged his mom. A beloved grandmother raised him, and if anyone could have shown Tejun a mother’s love, it would have been her or his aunt. In a pathetic attempt at real emotion he tried spouting off stuff about souls and how the dead dog still existed, stuff he didn’t necessarily believe but genuinely thought would help her. His kindness and warmth overcame his total lack of belief. Or perhaps it was just a reaction because he knew the goal was to make her stop crying. Not really knowing why, but just trying to stop it. Tejun found himself quoting things that he would have argued countless hours over. His aunt was hurting, and he wanted her to feel better, at the very least. He knew that much. What else would have him denouncing his faith in nothing? He did not care about his anger with religion; Tejun never claimed allegiance with the Truth and it was amazing how he seemed to always speak in possible truths. She still wept as Tejun sighed looking down at his scars and his glossy black nail polish. He gave a little snicker to himself. He thought of how Jesus said it best: “Don’t try to remove a sliver from someone’s eye when you have a log in your own.” Here he was two weeks after a suicide attempt trying to tell his aunt she should be happy. Tejun shook his head, quietly deciding to let her grieve in peace, accepting the fact he could not fix it. Then like she could read his thoughts, she shouted through tears, “Do you see me now Tejun? What do you think I would have been like if you would have died?” That comment struck our AntiChrist deep, somewhere that he had never been touched before. From that day forward, he vowed never to try and kill himself again.
Later that afternoon, Tejun was forced with the decision of what he was to do with the rest of this life now that he had finally decided to spare it. Not much into thinking ahead, he was struck by the urge to explore and maybe smoke some weed. He left the humble ranch house and walked deep into the woods, up a mountain that made up a major part of his aunt’s ranch. When this prophet walked in the woods, he always thought of people in the past, like Moses, when he went to the top of that mountain coming back with the Ten Commandments. Or like when Jesus went off in the wilderness and came back inspired with, the Sermon on the Mount. Or if you will, when Mohammed went to a cave and was ordered to write down the Koran. Finally, how about Joseph Smith, who went off and came back with invisible golden tablets containing the Book of Mormon. Those cover some of the major religions, and if you want to get down to ancient tribal religions, what do you think the whole concept of vision quests was? Some individual goes into the wilderness and talks to an entity or deity, coming back with his spirit guide or whatever. It’s all very similar, although some of you didn’t realize it until it was spelled out to you this very moment. Well here was Tejun at the ripe age of accountability, wandering in the most pristine forest he had ever had the privilege of exploring. It was grown up with oak, fir, cedar, alder, and all types of broad-leaf plants. There were literally times he was on his hands and knees just to make his way through the vegetation. With little idea of where he was going, he started becoming deeply concerned about getting lost. Thoughts of large bears or cougars poked at his mind, urging him to run back. His imagination even let him begin to fear beasts such as the big foot. Defiant and fearless, he trudged on into the mass of teaming life. Checking his pockets to make sure the pipe and weed were present, he quickened his pace with new resolve. Tejun had never been stoned in such a bizarre location and couldn’t wait to see what thoughts would flood his mind. Slipping silently through a blanket of ferns that covered the side of a great ravine like a seventy’s shag carpet, he suddenly noticed a giant redwood lying on its side. Its tender innards struggled toward the heavens, protruding from the tree’s base covered in mud and rock. The trunk was as big as a lock of God’s hair, Tejun’s mouth and eyes were ovals of awe as he approached the massive trunk. Quietly, he tried to imagine what had caused this tower of life to fall to its death. Comically, he jumped once in vain trying to see over to the other side. After giving up, he touched little fuzzy patches of water-soaked moss that covered most of the bark. It was spongy to the touch and cold. Pressing the moss with his finger made the water ooze out. He laughed as the water balled up like a Vietnamese refuge and ran away, quickly soaking into another patch of moss. Like an elven warrior, he crawled up on top of the log so he could get a better view of the surrounding forest. Standing upon the living corpse revealed the true story of its fall. Tejun could see gigantic stumps three to four times the size of the tree he was currently perched on. Physical evidence of a time when there were much larger trees that touched the clouds, standing in testimony to their domination of the environment. Only decapitated evidence was left. Tejun imagined an enemy more terrible than any god, a faceless monster that came along ending the centuries-old union between the tree and the soil. Tejun thought aloud bitterly, It was humans that killed what they could, leaving behind one or two trees to placate the bleeding hearts. This long dead survivor he now stood on was only a teen at the time his much larger kin were taken. It must have been horrific to be left in the postmassacre chaos, surrounded by the seeping stumps of his dead family. This tree had to sit and watch everything he ever knew perish before his eyes. Hearing every crack, every crash. Imagine watching the larger trees being limbed and drug away, never to be seen again. Don’t forget the little tree’s wounds either, gaping gashes in his trunk where his parents and brothers crashed against him. A wounded teen, left standing there, watching the horizon in horror, fearing the killers would come back to take him. Tejun shook his head at the thoughts. Then aloud, to nobody in particular, Tejun said, “You weren’t killed by a chainsaw, were ya, old buddy?” He imagined enough time passing that the tree might have begun to contemplate survival. Sadness that most of us can only imagine or watch on TV must have set in for the surviving tree. A sadness that would make grown men cry. Imagine the Muslim teen, I mean tree, standing there sobbing because his family was dead. Every sappy movie you have ever watched and the pitiful tears you shed in every one combined would not equal one of his uncountable tears. As with his fear and grief, it’s safe to say most of you have no real concept of the anger that results from this level of emotion. He must have slowly began to seethe with anger, a bitter anger that makes you clench your teeth and cry at the same time. The survivor screamed at God, raising his branches to the heavens, cursing him and wishing all sorts of doom on humans, holding his wounds as he breathed in and out heavily, imagining the terrible things he would do to the people who killed his family. Hatred would set in. The most intense hatred anyone has felt, the hatred where crimes of passion come from, where terrorism comes from! Hatred toward another so intense you are willing to kill their children. You validate this because you have had to watch them kill yours. We all claim to hate people, but until you have your enemy’s blood on you, you haven’t hated enough to call it hate. He patted the tree lightly and sighed, “Old friend, you are probably too wise to let such things turn you into a terrorist.” Still suffering distaste for God, Tejun sneered out loud, “In the midst of all this agony, like a father who had looked away from his children for to long, God came rushing in. Seeing the damage, God wept and clouds spilt rain over the Earth.” The angry thought continued quietly barley a whisper, “Water heaved from the heavens, coating the Earth in the greatest substance Earth possesses. Rain soaked into this soil, making it swell like the bubbles Americans see when our mothers pour peroxide on a scratch.” Tejun smiled for a moment, amused. “Our mothers were healing us, but this water that caused your fall was on a mission to heal the Earth, not to save you, my old decaying friend.” He thought about how the saturated soil must have begun to lose its grip on the tree. Slowly with a shivering groan, the maimed teen began to fall. As it leaned farther and farther, a sharp cracking cut off the fall’s groan. The tree must have hit the earth with a thunderous, earthshaking crash. Broken limbs the size of vans flew dozens of feet in the air. Muddy water spewed toward the sky, reaching apexes higher than flag poles. Bouncing, the log wiggled and shook like an arrow let loose from a bow. Then it hit again with an equally devastating crash. As muddy water and bits of limbs fell back to the muddy forest floor, the tree sighed settling on the place that the Faggot Prince would one day stand. Tejun has always been slightly crazy, so talking to himself never bothered him. He laughed lightly and began to speak louder, “Eventually, time passed. More rain fell and ever-present seeds took root. Some things began to grow immediately—sprouting ferns, small bushes, and little shoots of grass.” Like he was performing, he made small motions with his hands while walking comfortably on top of the giant log. “The deer came back, munching grass and dropping fertilizer. Of course, we have to fast forward some years, enough years a dozen carcasses could have totally eroded to dust.” He pointed to a small tree. “Now you have saplings beginning to cast considerable amounts of shade from their newly sprouted leaves. The brush is as tall as a man in some places. The shade is beginning to conceal large carpets of moss that cover everything out of the suns harsh drying glare.” Tejun looked to the cloudy sky and smiled, stopping and putting his hand on his chin. “Imagine more years going by, when saplings fall because they couldn’t hold on as the wind blew.” He stamped a foot on the bark. “Only the trees with the best rooting and prime location are allowed to grow, eating and eating, growing larger and larger, quickly trying to fulfill the legends told by the survivors of your doom.” Tejun ceased his monologue. He was pleased and decided this was where he would smoke weed, “As I sit here and smoke with you, Mr. Tree, just know that I am aware you are far too wise to fear the things that must happen. You just are.” He pulled out his pipe crafted from a can of soda crunched into shape, making a nice little cradle for his precious buds. There were pierced holes in the top and one larger hole in the side called the carb. Once you begin to burn the weed, you cover the carb with your thumb. This is to create a void you fill with smoke inside the can by sucking air through the drinking hole. Once you know the can is full of smoke, you develop this skill with time, you move your thumb away. A streaming jet of air pushes the weed smoke deep into your chest, filling parts of your lungs with THC that has never even been caressed by oxygen. The THC gets to your brain and makes it fire in ways that creates a blur of activity. You begin to imagine scenarios you have never thought about before. Hence, you get the classic image of a stoner trying to explain some vast concept inconceivable to most idiots out there. It’s very amazing really, seeing what people come up with when they are actually thinking for the first time in their lives and not accepting what they have been told in public school, church, or television. Tejun loved the excitement first-time stoners feel when they come to revelations about Scooby-Doo or Alice in Wonderland. Although Tejun never did, he observed that most people forget about thinking and talking while stoned. Eventually, they fade into oblivion and smoke their existence away, never to fully wonder again. Thankfully for us, some actually keep thinking. Like Tejun, they think intensely and try to remember what they thought about. Some record it, some write it, and some speak it. That is what Tejun had done his entire weed-smoking career—thinking, questioning, wondering, and searching despite the protests of any authority figure. He continued to ask even when what he was learning was killing him. His stoner mind brought him in front of his computer, writing to all of us. He would say to his friends, “I want to see if I can do what all those “prophets” did—tell you I have written down a message from God and have you buy it.” I am getting too far ahead. He isn’t a prophet yet, just a stoner. Tejun sat on the massive trunk and began to inhale and exhale the killer buds, over and over. He watched as the smoke sifted up through the mist, vanishing without a trace. Cashing out the bowl, he put the can back inside his coat and pulled the black fabric around himself, shivering. It was a magnificent black coat that was much too big for him, but it fit him well. It had a hood that reminded me of a hooded cloak an elven warrior would adorn or perhaps a monk. It was made of soft cotton, so it laid over itself like folds of skin on one of those wrinkled dogs. Although he could faintly see his breath, he was warm.
As the weed took over, his thoughts began to reel. At first he began to get paranoid. The reality of all the animals was starting to make him nervous, shooting looks at the path home. Then suddenly, Tejun heard something, a crack in the forest, something was moving. Like a deer in a meadow, his head jerked in the direction of the sound. Then quickly he perched himself on the log like a black panther. Tejun fearlessly glared in the direction of the sound to face the possible danger. His eyes tore at the wall of green, searching for the source. For a while he was staring at the leaves and branches, studying every dark patch to see if he could make out an eye or a claw. Being a child of fantasy, Tejun started to feel the elven warrior come out. Still nothing moved. As his fear subsided, he started to imagine his connection with elves. That elven warrior inside him began to manifest something magical that is at perfect peace with his surroundings in the woods. After a few moments of uncountable time, he let his mind wander, but continued to watch carefully for the source of the sound. Soon he was beginning to imagine where real elves would be hiding if they existed he looked more carefully than before. Letting his vision fall in and out of focus, and then suddenly he stopped, realizing full well that he was totally baked. He laughed and then paused for a moment, deciding to go with the magical thoughts. He let the thoughts take off. Before long, he was contemplating what elven camouflage would be like. Something of a cross between the Predator’s camo off that Arnold movie, and the shrouded figure he had already envisioned himself as. He was about to move on when his attention was ripped back into focus. There was another loud cracking, and suddenly Tejun shook as he saw the thing that was moving. Something pure white; not a drop of mud or dirt had touched it. It was a shroud, and it was draped around a man. The man was moving through the dense ferns; they seemed to bow out of his way like guards before a king. He was beautiful beyond description, but I will make a sad attempt. His jaw, nose, cheeks, and bare shoulder looked to be chiseled by the hands of Da Vincci himself. Long jet-black hair fell down around his shoulders, strait and smooth, slightly curling at the ends. The stranger’s skin shimmered like sunlight on a mountain lake. At some moments it appeared to be as creamy as a Nordic Viking; then it would take on a tan that resembled the appearance of a desert sultan. The man exuded a pure majesty and prowess that caused Tejun to consciously adjust his stance to one that was respectful and curious, a stance the man approved of. Approaching, the stranger grabbed one of the redwood’s roots with his arm and revealed muscles that could only belong to a perfect body. Tejun lustfully imagined what his stomach and his chest must have been like, every muscle showing its glory with pride. Watching shirtless guys in dance clubs, plus viewing hundreds of thousands of cologne adds honed his skill of guessing how hot someone’s body really was, and this guy was already pulling at his lust muscles. He looked at Tejun and suddenly spoke, “You find me attractive, don’t you?” The voice traveled the distance between the two characters, entered inside Tejun’s head, and instantly he fell flat on his face in total shame. I don’t know how he knew, but he realized this was God. In the past, the AntiChrist had professed how he would not be ashamed of his life and that he would stand with pride before God. I think he held that view because he had never really fully believed in the fact that a god could ever exist. That all changed when Tejun saw the creature and heard the voice. Our sinner was instantly fearful of what God would do. He couldn’t stop thinking about every single perverse act he had ever committed in his entire life. All the drugs and sex, not including the sex with guys, the evil things he had done to people, the cruel things he had said, and the lies he had told. Also the pile of religious texts he burned once while flipping off the heavens screaming, “Fuck you, God!” was coming back to haunt him. That paled in comparison to the fact that he had actually tried to take his own life not three months ago. Tejun began to weep; he realized it was too late, he regretted almost everything he had done, and now God was standing before him to take him to hell personally. It was quiet, but Tejun could feel God staring at him. He wanted to seep into the forest floor like so many rotting corpses had done before. God crawled atop the log and decided to stand over the groveling soul, as he lay face down in the moistness, clutching at the moss, begging silently for forgiveness. The next thing that happened is something everyone of us experience every single day of our lives, but are too consumed with the material to realize it. Something that is bringing me to tears as I write the words down on this paper. God touched him. He was instantly electrified with knowledge and hopes so wonderful and loving Tejun sobbed a loud sob that interrupted the tranquility of the forest. It turned the heads of squirrels on trees many yards away as the electric touch passed over his entire body. The feeling of security comforted him as God put his hands around his creation’s biceps and gently pulled him up. God stood behind Tejun, his chest touching the wingless back of the AntiChrist and embraced him close. God was considerably taller, so he bent his head down and whispered, “Tejun, I love you. Don’t cry. Regret nothing; you never did anything I didn’t allow. I allowed it; I will bare the grief.” Tejun turned around quickly. “No!” Under no circumstances did he want God to grieve over his mistakes. In those few moments, Tejun loved God more than anything he had ever known. To imagine God living in complete sorrow was unbearable. Tejun never ever wanted to hurt the creature again. God whispered softly, “You cannot hurt me, Tejun. It will be okay. Love will succeed, eventually love conquers all fear and hate.” The AntiChrist asked probably the most idiotic question any creature in all of God’s creation could have asked, “How do you know?” God let go of Tejun and stepped back. He raised his arms and appeared as the thousands of countless images of Christ on a cross that we have seen on the necks of Christians. He said calmly, “Because I am love.” Tejun fell silent and contemplated what he had just heard. God said he was love. The only part of life that ever brought him any hope. Love and Tejun had a bizarre relationship, to say the least, but it was his favorite thing next to sex, and it usually lead to sex. God was professing to be his favorite concept, so naturally this would be Tejun’s one true god. God looked at him and said, “You should voice what you think, Tejun. I didn’t give you this gift of abstract thought to simply let it fester inside of you.” He reached down and grabbed his hand, turning up the scarred wrist. “Look what you have done to yourself trying to conceal the observations you have found. It’s literally killing you, and making you hate me.” He let go of his hands and smiled. Standing in awe for a moment, Tejun awkwardly asked, “I think like you?” God chuckled and jumped from the log landing silently amongst the ferns. “No, you don’t think like me; you are human. Although I think like you did, and you use to think like I do.” He motioned for Tejun to come down from the log. Jumping without hesitation, he felt as light as a feather and didn’t make a crashing impact when he touched down. Looking at the ground Tejun had barley touched, God looked hopeful and asked, “How did you do that?” With a confused look, he answered, “I don’t know.” God sighed in quiet disappointment. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do what I am about to do.” He began to walk away and motioned for Tejun to follow. The vegetation moved aside wherever they walked. Animals came running up to catch a glimpse of God. Tejun noticed a bear standing on his haunches gazing at them with curiosity. Deer came out of the woodwork and birds started filling the trees. The forest was alive, coyotes yipped in celebration, and the birds engulfed the air with a perfectly tuned song only performed for God himself. Tejun followed God into a grove of aspen trees, tall and numerous. Hundreds, maybe thousands. The ground was covered with knee-high grass, and it was moist and squishy, although neither of them left a footprint. “Tell me something about yourself, Tejun.” Tejun was stunned and at a loss for words. What was he going to tell God that God didn’t already know? Then out of nowhere, Tejun said, “I want to be in love. I want to be loved.” God turned and smiled. “That’s the best news all of creation could have ever received.” He bent down and peered at a mountain lily, its purple petals coming to a tapered point with gentle curves creating a cup-type blossom. After a silent moment of appreciation for the fragile flower, God asked, “Why do you hate me sometimes?” He looked up with an expression of sadness that made Tejun set his hand on God’s shoulder. Kneeling down to meet his eyes, Tejun noticed as God looked at his presumptuous hand and smiled. He pulled his hand away quickly, but God shot him a quick frown, and Tejun gently returned his hand. God’s smile returned and Tejun spoke very carefully, “I was taught you were mean and vengeful to sinners.” He stopped and hesitated. “I am a fag.” God laughed. “I know.” Embarrassed, Tejun explained, “I thought you wanted me to burn in hell. I never imagined you were,” he looked him up and down, “this.” Everything darkened as if the sun went behind a cloud. “Tejun, I am intensely hurt by every human on this planet every day.” He stood again. “Why?” Tejun asked, getting up to follow him. “I am hurt by the humans who hate me and by the humans who teach others to hate me?” He began walking quickly. “Who teaches us to hate you?” Tejun felt scared for fear he would say it was he. Tejun couldn’t recall how many times he had confronted the religious or tempted someone away from their church or into bed. God looked at Tejun and asked, “What is sin?” Tejun was terrified. He assumed this was some kind of final, and he hadn’t studied a bit. Nervously, he quickly answered, “Um, sin is something that is against your will.” To Tejun’s complete dread, God clearly became angry. “What is my will, Tejun?” “Uh . . . uh . . . uh . . . your will is your law, what you told us about right and wrong.” Tejun’s eyes rolled, wishing he had paid more attention in Sunday school. He was worried God knew his answer was bullshit and not verbatim from the Bible. God said with much distaste, “What is right and wrong, what is the law, and which comes first?” Tejun answered slowly. His voice was shaking. He didn’t really know. “Well the Bible says—” God’s hand shot up in Tejun’s face, covering his mouth with a dead-serious tone, “Do not ever quote the Bible to me.” Tejun apologized, “I’m sorry. It’s your law and I thought—” God interrupted loudly, “THE BIBLE IS NOT MY LAW!” Tejun practically shit himself, and if God ever yells at you, you would probably do the same. Tejun stammered at God’s soul-wiggling outburst, “I thought, but—” “But what! Is it my law because every human you ever knew told you this, and every human they ever knew told them that? When did I tell them that? What if it’s all a big lie, Tejun? The biggest longest lie in existence.” Thunder rolled somewhere in the distance. “It’s a lie?” Tejun asked hopefully, realizing his doubt may have been real. “You tell me, Tejun.” He stared, waiting for Tejun to answer. Of course, Tejun really didn’t know the answer. He stammered again foolishly, “I . . . I . . . I don’t know. You could have made things a little easier to understand.” “You knew what life was before now?” “Well yes—I mean no, goddammit!” Tejun stopped and gasped covering his mouth. God busted into laughter, “Calm down, Tejun. All will be revealed soon enough. You know more than you can possibly imagine.” “Revealed? Am I dead?” he asked cautiously. “What is the difference, Tejun? What is different between life and death?” He thought for a moment, “Well, life takes place on Earth. After death, your life is judged, and you go to heaven or hell.” God shook his head. “Oh yea, I almost forgot.” With that Tejun wondered how big the lie really was. But before he could ask the question, God stopped and turned. “Well let’s see where you get to spend eternity then.” He began walking and motioned to the sky. “Heaven”—he pointed at the ground—“or hell.” Tejun thought, So I am dead? Must have been a fucking cougar or something. Fear set in, and he had nothing else to say. Like a heretic on his way to the fire, he followed God deeper into the aspen grove. Tejun was listening to the grass rub against his pants and God’s cloak. The little round leaves of the aspen trees rustled constantly, soothing Tejun. He looked up to see two stone thrones sitting in the heart of the grove. God motioned for Tejun to have a seat. He sat down in the surprisingly comfortable seat. He looked questioningly at God. God replied, “I want you to notice there is no difference between our thrones?” Tejun didn’t answer. God paused for a moment and studied every detail of Tejun, like an artist admiring one of his own creations. God’s face appeared to be full of pleasure as tears began to well up in his eyes. The AntiChrist thought, How could God find pleasure in me? How could he be happy with this pile of sin and doubt? God interrupted the silent questions, “Because I love you.” Tejun instantly wept again, crying with relief, a relief that God was not hard and judgmental. Relieved that he was really love, that love was he, that no other emotion controlled this god’s actions. Nothing the Christians had told Tejun was true, so far. God bent close and held Tejun’s hands in his. “Now listen very carefully. I am about to speak some words to you that will make you capable of doing whatever you wish. Now I know this sounds great, but listen to me, Tejun! It can be terrible.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Eternally terrible.” Tejun nodded. “Once I say this, you will be able to manifest anything you wish. Anything at all.” He squeezed Tejun’s hands tightly. “Are you ready, Tejun?” Tejun wasn’t sure, but he said, “Yes, my Lord.” God snickered at the response. “Don’t call me that, please.” His gaze began to drift off, and Tejun felt something filling him. It was electricity, energy, a crackling that transferred from God’s hands to Tejun’s, a feeling that made his ears hum. Slowly, God leaned forward as the AntiChrist’s eyes crackled with a white light, and he whispered, “Tejun, you are the one true god.” Tejun was jerked back in his throne with a snap. God tenderly let go of his hands and leaned back, cocking his head to the side. He looked almost frightened as the AnitChrist turned his head, looking at the Earth with a god’s eyes. Tejun instantly knew God wasn’t lying. It was real, but like a kid holding a gun for the first time, he didn’t know what to expect. God instructed, “Tejun, you are in total control of your destiny right now. Be careful what you think, because it will be.” “How can I be God?” he asked. God waved his hands and shook his head. “No, Tejun. You must concentrate and keep control. These questions will come with time. Right now you must concentrate on what is happening here.” He pointed at Tejun’s head. Then our biblically conditioned earthling said, “Where is heaven?” God answered with tears of disappointment forming in his eyes, “Heaven?” He sighed. “You don’t know where this is because it doesn’t exist yet.” “What?” He said slowly, “It will exist if you see fit to have it exist.” “Heaven doesn’t exist? Why not?” “It only exists in the minds of humans on Earth.” “Well it exists in my mind,” Tejun answered quickly. “Then so be it. If heaven is a truth, then so hell must also be a truth.” “Well of course . . . right?” Tejun sensed something going array. No sooner than the feeling was felt, there was a horrifyingly loud clap of thunder that rolled ominously across the sky. God looked up at the heavens worried. “Hell is something that I have no control over, Tejun. Hell is a creation of your own design. I weep constantly at the fact that it even exists for you, but since you are now God, all I can hope for is that you can endure this reality you see fit to create.” Animals started to growl and call out in alarm. Tejun was frightened and apprehensive as everything slowly began to grow darker. Rain started to sprinkle down, and the ground shook as the deer bounded off in fright. The thrones began cracking and crumbling. God sat motionless as Tejun stood up quickly. “What did I do wrong!” God just sat there glaring at him as sonic booms erupted from gigantic balls of fire cutting across the sky. Covering his ears, Tejun screamed, “God what is happening!” God stood, quickly yelling, “You’re so pathetic! You are a god now, and you cannot change the reality in your head? What kind of God lets himself be destroyed by a myth! A tribal fucking fear as old as smelling your fingers after you scratch your ass.” Tejun closed his eyes and thought hard. He tried to make the thundering roars subside and let the sun return, but the sound of falling trees and giant boulders bounding down mountains was too much distraction. He was losing it. A fear grabbed a hold of his soul and twisted it like a wet rag. Opening his eyes, in terror he screamed, “God, help me!” God stepped forward and grabbed Tejun, pulling him so close their noses almost touched. He began to thunder in a voice that rumbled all over the world, “You have to learn something right now, Tejun! You must remember, you are God! I can’t help you anymore.” Tejun gasped as he saw a mountain of flames approaching over God’s shoulder. He closed his eyes again and began to think feverishly. He began to say to himself, “God is love, love is God, I am God, I am love, I am hope, I am heaven.” He opened his eyes and looked hopefully for a white light and legions of angels. To his dismay, the earth still rumbled and he could hear the deafening roar of the fire and feel the heat start to warm his skin. “I’m sorry.” It was much too late. God somehow began to lose his majesty. The presence had left Tejun with nothing but a man in a shroud that burst into flames. The object of Tejun’s affection was now burning alive, screaming and tearing at his flesh trying to remove the flames. His black hair quickly curled and frizzled, letting off a thick yellow smoke that made Tejun sick to his stomach. God’s flesh bubbled and sloughed away like tattered rags, landing on the ground with sizzling wet plops. Tejun was completely horrified as the flames engulfed him. Whirling around him like a twister, pulling at his skin and setting his body into painful convulsions. He jerked in a thousand directions at a thousand different pinpoints of pain. Tejun watched his own body become deformed and ruined beyond repair, feeling his face melting and his hair frizzle away to nothing but charred skull. The pain never subsided. Soon it was accompanied by thoughts, terrible thoughts. Thoughts of love lost, opportunity missed, regret, anguish, sorrow, longing, want, need—all accompanied by intense physical pain. A million babies could have came into the world filling the sky with the agonizing screams of a million women, and it wouldn’t have equaled one breath of the screams Tejun was releasing from his charred corpse. No longer able to concentrate on time, he started to gain the ability to beg God for help. Amidst screams of anguish, he cried out into the fires. There was no answer, just the heartbreaking wails of others. His tears turned to steam and instantly floated upward. Like a sappy bitch, he hoped God would see the tiny SOS and come rescue him. Able to formulate thoughts in this state of being, he quickly decided that he was now in hell. His spastic thoughts amidst the agony were Where is the devil? Is this all that happens? Can I move around? Hearing a voice in the distance, Tejun stepped toward it; then like it began, it stopped. The flames subsided, gradually getting smaller and smaller until they disappeared into the cracked and charred earth. The fires were so intense that the soil had been melted to a hard black gleaming crust not a blade of grass or a charred stump remained. Sometimes the sun tried to poke through the polluted atmosphere that was full of unclean thick black clouds. The very air burned his lungs, making him take short raspy breaths. A sad wind swept across the barren nothingness like a mother looking for a lost child. It blew into every crack and fissure, searching for any sign of life. When the wind came to Tejun, it seemed relieved and began to whirl around him in a little celebration. He almost smiled, but as the edges of his lips were beginning to curl with a sense of relief, something icy and cold grabbed his neck. The grip overwhelmed Tejun as if he was dunked in the Arctic Ocean. A small cry escaped his throat as strong sharp fingernails pierced his neck. Tejun feebly tried to spin out of its grip and turn to see what had grabbed him, but the monster shook him violently, like your father would shake you when you had done something to call down his wrath. The thing hissed in his burnt ear, “If you turn around, I will start the fires again, rape you with a splintered log, and make you watch the death of your mother for a thousand years.” Tejun became as motionless as a stick figure drawn on a piece of paper as the demon asked, “Do you know who I am?” Tejun muttered the word, “Satan.” He cackled and laughed to a point where Tejun felt as if he was going to drop him, “No, I am not Satan. Satan is much more sinister than I am. Satan is the lord of deceit, he is the god of fuck, he is the father of anguish, and the mother of misery. Satan walks amongst the Earth causing war and famine, greed and jealousy, arrogance and indifference.” The creature licked a gaping wound on Tejun's back making him scream. “I am just something to make your time here that much worse.” Defiant, Tejun shouted, “Where is God?” casting his naked eye balls to the thick clouds. The wind eerily howled. The demon paused for a moment and then took a quick smell of the back of Tejun’s head, “What the fuck are you talking about?” After another pause, he laughed. “I’m sorry. Usually there is begging and whining.” He shook him for affect. “You know, pleading, the usual stuff people do when they are in hell.” Tejun didn’t miss a beat. “Well I don’t know if you have heard, but I am God.” The demon snarled and smashed his face into the side of Tejun’s head, talking through gritted fangs, “God doesn’t exist here. God can’t exist here. God will never ever be here. If he did come, this wouldn’t be hell anymore.” With that he let Tejun fall upon the hot rocks. Although Tejun no longer believed it, he looked up at the demon and shouted, “You better just back the fuck up because I am God, and this is bullshit! Now why don’t you go get Satan or whoever the fuck is in charge.” The demon laughed again. “Well if you’re God, then you must have forgotten everything.” He slapped Tejun’s head fiercely and continued his role as scary demon. “You worm, you parasite, you are so weak, so pathetic. How could you ever think you were a god? How could you ever entertain the thought that something as fragile and wishy-washy as you, could be a swine like God?” Then there was a clap of thunder off in the distance. The creature stopped speaking but returned his grip on Tejun’s throat. His bones could be heard creaking from the pressure. The thunder clapped again, but this time it was closer, and they watched streaks of light pass through the black clouds. The creature quickly looked into Tejun’s charred face. He appeared frantic. He was trying to figure out who he was. The demon’s mouth dropped open; he had the look of someone who had just recognized the one and only god. The confused fallen cherub was a terribly beautiful beast. Smooth black skin reflected the sky, covering his well-muscled body barely covered by a crude skin hanging from a studded belt. The monster had human proportions and a human face. His chin came to a curious point with a severe cleft, along with the cliché set of pointed ears. Black pearls for eyes set into an angelic face reflected Tejun’s horrific image perfectly. He could actually see the extent of his mutilation, and it pissed him off. Reading Tejun’s mind, the creature said, “Here, let me fix that for you.” He grinned and raised his fist to bash the charred face to a pulp when thunder cracked so loud the demon flinched. He gazed at the electrified clouds for a moment as they began to whirl into a vortex directly above them. Tejun as well as the demon were surprised to see his original, unburned appearance had returned. Knowing someone was helping him, the AntiChrist said with a frightening tone, “Get your fucking hand off my neck, demon. I think your boss wants to have a word with me.” Casting him to the ground like he was a hot rock, the demon ran. Tejun hit with a hard thump, cutting himself, searing his flesh on the hot rocks. The demon quickly faded into the surrounding blackness screaming, “He is here! He is here! He is here!” Holding his elbow trying to comfort the wounds that were inflicted with each movement, Tejun sarcastically said, “Thanks.” He looked at the electrified cloud formation and said, “Knock, knock.” Humbling claps of thunder split his eardrums and let loose an oppressive rain. It wasn’t refreshing or soothing, instead it hit like a million icicles impaling him with pain and misery. The deafening sound of the rain was roaring against the barren blackened waste. Tejun tried to stand, but his shivering was too severe. He fell onto the coarse rocks again. In a matter of seconds, all hope had fled and anguish consumed him. He screamed for mercy with every breath, feeling a pain and loss that only Satan could bestow. As if it was waiting for him to succumb to the pain, the sky finally opened. The sun shined down on his humbled tear-streaked face, making a circle of relief all around him. He gasped as he saw a great winged creature’s silhouette coming down from the opening in the swirling clouds. As this thing descended from the clouds, the light was so intense the edges of him shimmered and moved. His wings flapped with an elegant timing that matched the heartbeat of a sleeping man. The creature was so utterly beautiful and graceful Tejun turned his face away self-consciously. The most seductive angel let a tender foot rest on each side of the weeping AntiChrist. Slowly kneeling down and resting his hips as if he were riding him in some sexual way. He examined his prey, smiling, moving his hips erotically, appealing to the victim’s body and soul. As an erection began to form, the angel placed his hands on the heaving chest, and bending low, almost kissing the AntiChrist, he whispered, “I am still in control.” Satan brought his giant black wings up to shade them both from the sun. His voice resonated through Tejun like he was the reed of an instrument. “So you’re my creator?” He threw himself upward and thrust his wings straight out to the side, still seductively perched atop his fuck victim. Thunder exploded, moving the ground, and lightning struck the barren wasteland, sending molten rock flying in all directions. Tejun watched the angel’s perfect stomach muscles flex as he released a victorious laugh to the heavens. Complete terror prickled across every cell in his body as he slipped into post orgasm blackness.
To Be Continued Here
Hello Members.
You are the only people on the planet who get delivered these messages. Everyone else, for now, is oblivious. I have come here today to address and explain the issue of a militant AntiChrist Church. In the book years ago, back in 2004 I outlined two militant homosexual units.
These units acted as guardians to the AntiChrist. The first unit, "The Core" was made up of twelve members. They were called, "Apostles", selected for the closeness to the AntiChrist and their abilities. All were highly trained, in many forms of combat and weapons. They traveled with the Anti-Christ at all times.
They also acted as a presidential cabinet. Advising the Anti-Christ on many aspects of his ministry and church. They were the primary and final protection for him, The Anti-Christ. The second unit was pretty much the military representation of the Church.
The second unit was much larger. Very large, in the beginning it numbered less than five-hundred. But then suddenly the numbers exploded and in less than eight-months the force grew to twenty-thousand. There was a common theme to all members in the second group.
All were fit, creative, and unpolluted by the lies of today's systems. Each one was hand-picked by either the Anti-Christ or the Apostles. They were lords of the new "gay world" that emerged under the reign of The Anti-Christ. Donot misunderstand me, the current gay community came down upon the AntiChrist Church with extreme prejudice. Casting them farther away than the religious.
For the current gay community had created an image, and the AntiChrist Church defied that image by it's mere existence. The brotherhood of the AntiChrist was not to be taken lightly for they were men, lovely men, but still they were men. They had minds, guns and Will. They were not and would not be the "punks" of society.
Many hated and feared the AntiChrist Church and it's policies on dealing with harm to any of it's members or the Anti-Christ. Society compared them to the Nazi's, called the AntiChrist Church elitist. But with every gun purchased, with every soldier recruited, the AntiChrist Church became more and more like the very people who oppressed them.
Now the abnormal homosexual, was reacting very normally to an oppressive society ruled by a bunch of people worshipping a mutilated god strapped to sticks. The AntiChrist Church represented the manhood in homosexuals, because we know any man when they become cornered, will not die without a fight.
Tejun
"On the creation of this religion the AntiChrist Church"
It is time for the denial to cease. It is time for the doubts to end. These doubts exist in society and, until recently in my mind.
You have to understand what it is like to receive divine information from divine sources. The discussions I have with God's and Angels, Devils and Demons are very traumatic. Gods don't ever just check in to see how your day was. When one speaks it is to change your perception of reality, nothing less.
The first lesson I learned from these voices was; religion is bad. Most of the time these revelations came from sources I was brought up to mistrust. Satan or Lucifer, cowering demons and monstrous demi-gods. All told me pf the evils that had come to rule the minds of humanity.
Reluctantly I agreed, their evidence was compelling, but sometimes I still mistrusted them. Then one day a voice I was raised to trust and born to worship spoke to me, Jesus. It was a confirmation of everything the dark ones were telling me. This is when I decided to make it my life's purpose to tell everyone what I was hearing. Still with a lingering doubt.
In my head I still doubted what I was writing. I knew I was insane, one of those guys who would end up on a sidewalk yelling at nobody. Yet I continued to write.
I was so convinced of the absurdity of what I was thinking and writing. That is why I presented it in pop fiction form. I created a character who was a prophet. His ministry consisted of what I was being told. I built a fictional organization and a church around this character. I created messiahs, prophets, scribes and volumes of text. All in the hope of creating a media empire.
Then one day a new voice came. It was not Jesus, nor God or Satan. No this thing that spoke on that day was something more akin to us than I have ever felt, yet he
was completely divine. He was, The AntiChrist.
He told me that the AntiChrist Church was real. He said everything was real. He called me a prophet and my friends apostles. He was serious. The AntiChrist is coming. God has given him domain over the earth and our hearts. Soon he will minister to us, soon he will strip the power of religion and cast it from the planet. He will free humanity from the lines that divide us, and he will end the religious laws that kill us. Rejoice The AntiChrist will free us all! My purpose is to build this AntiChrist Church and prepare my body and the body of the AntiChrist Church for his arrival. Blessing homosexual unions is but the new decrees God will unleash on the world through The AntiChrist Church.
The AntiChrist is coming to earth to do God's will and he will set us free.
your ever crazy Tejun This is an article that is appearing in a Zine in Portland Oregon I was surfing the internet the other day and I found a website called, www. churchoftheantichrist. com. At first glance I assumed I had found another satanic nut job who wanted to be the 'ultimate evil'. Labeling himself Anti-Christ. But one statement on his site grabbed me and sucked me in, "There is nothing to serve here. " The AntiChrist Church is an organization built around a few ideas. Freedom from religion, human evolution, and sticking it to the man. The founder of the AntiChrist Church is Tejun Fowler. He wrote a novel, that at one time was fiction, but as his online cult grows his book is eerily becoming non-fiction.
This cult is different than any other I have seen to date. There are no Gods, because the theology of the AntiChrist Church says that God has sent the AntiChrist to end religion. God doesn't want to be served and no Church to date has ever represented God's will. The AntiChrist Church is suppose to be "the last church". Through his unique plea to humanity, Tejun asks the world to end all religions until the AntiChrist Church stands as the last symbol of human service to religion. Once this is accomplished, he will dismantle the entire thing and humanity will symbolically have evolved from millenniums of religious service.
I asked Tejun during a brief phone conversation if he believed God had sent him. He simply replied, "If there is a God, he definitely sent me." This Cult, Church only goes by the name but cannot be defined as either. A paradox in this rapidly changing world. As I see the progression of religion throughout our history I can't help but think, Tejun's Church is the most logical and final step.
anonymous Tejun Fowler had a stroke of genius which has lead to one of his most significant societal challenges of the century.
Tejun has created a viable religion, based on an actual existing Biblical character, The AntiChrist.
This Church has members, it observe the existence of the antichrist, they provide community services and it is built on volumes of “religious texts” authored by the Ministers of this faith.
This religion is built on and celebrates homosexuals. It is a homosexual religion.
the AntiChrist is believed to be the Messiah of the Homosexual, delivering them from the oppression of God’s followers.
The AntiChrist only blesses Homosexual Marriages.
In This act this Church, this religion has invalidated the recent one man one woman amendments to state and federal constitutions.
With the existence of this Church these state and federal governments have invalidated this Religion by passing these Laws. Violating the First Amendment
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