"John Dalmas - The Second Coming" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dalmas John)

prospect of death can be especially frightening. But you are, in fact, an
undying soul, and your loved ones are undying souls. Death ends neither your
existence nor theirs. Each of us survives as a soul, despite war, murder and
plague. We would survive collision with a 5-gigaton asteroid that killed every
human body on our planet.

While incarnate on Earth, we are a soul united with a primate, in a very close
relationship, and the primate has its own reactions to dangers. Because the
body does die, and regardless of Church doctrine, is not resurrected. Thus
being convinced of one's soulhood, one's immortality, does not automatically
exempt us from fear.


From The Collected Public Lectures
of Ngunda Aran




The room was dark, except for flickering light from an aged television. Near one side
of the room stood a stove made of a 35-gallon oil drum standing horizontally on four
legs. Its draft was closed, its damper nearly so. An occasional muted pop sounded
from its interior, and around its door a red line glowed, thin and dull. To one side lay
a small pile of split pine, on the other a shaggy cattle dog, head on forepaws. In the
weak light, it might easily be overlooked. Its eyes were not on the screen, but on two
men, seated. Footsteps sounded on the front porch. The door opened and closed, a
brief chill wind blowing in. There was a smell of barn boots. The two men did not
turn.
"What ya watching?"


The younger of them, large in the darkness, answered from the sofa. "The son of
God."


"Shit!"


"Careful now, Carl," the third man said. "God'll get ya."


Carl grunted, stepped to the set, and squinted farsightedly at the digital display on the
satellite tuner. Then he sat down on an easy chair and watched. Now and again he
cursed. The program had been two-thirds over when he'd entered. When it finished,
he got up and turned the sound off.


"Goddamn jigaboo!"