Johnny And Sarhara Have Baby Prophets

One day Johnny noticed that Sarhara had gotten big as a house. He asked her what happened to her. She said she was going to tell him anyway, but wanted to see if he noticed.

“Noticed what?” he said.

“That I am pregnant you idiot. That’s what you didn’t notice. What kind of prophet are you anyway if you don’t even know when your wife is pregnant? We are going to have little twin prophets running around this house, God help me. I knew I shouldn’t have fooled around with you any more after that Dixie Kup escapade, but I just can’t help myself. Now see what you’ve done.”

Johnny responded. “It’s a miracle. This was to be expected. You should be very happy.”

“I’ll be happy when you are changing their diapers, not me.”

“Never happen my dear, I am a prophet. Such things are beneath me.”

With this last statement Sarhara gave Johnny a swift kick in his shins and proceeded to throw up on the breakfast room table. Johnny said such things were to be expected again and retreated to the privacy of his office/den to contemplate having children. The thought had never crossed his mind before.

Sarhara came home from a trip to the doctors to inform Johnny that the twins were going to be fully mature in about a week and that it was time to pick names. Johnny was surprised at first that this whole procedure had taken only 3 months, but then things always got speeded up when you are talking about prophets and their off spring. He told Sarhara to pick the babies names herself. She told him she had already decided on the names Darling and Delicious, as the twins were both girls.

Johnny was shocked. He was expecting boys. Sarhara told him not to worry about it. They could have boys another time if they ever fooled around again. In fact with the maturation schedule that prophets are evidently on, they could have a whole football team in no time at all.

Johnny said, “I like baseball better.” Poor Johnny, he forgot to duck as Sarhara threw a book at him.

And you think that only normal people have dysfunctional families. Believe me, they have nothing on prophets and their wives. Wait till you meet the twins. They are convinced they are geniuses that have inherited prophet rights and they age at three times the age of normal children. At the age of five they sound and act like they are fifteen, which gets everyone in trouble..

Staring Into the Face Of Death On Halloween

The face was all black and marbled and cracked. It had thin ridges protruding near the cheekbones with the hint of dried blood seeping out of them. I suppose at my age you get used to these things because I wasn’t scared; well maybe just a little bit. I am twelve years old and a boy genius. I know when someone is trying to fake me out, and yet this damn face looked real somehow. The worst part was that it was right in my face. I guess I was too nervous to rip it off and expose another young guy like me out for some Halloween pranks and candy. The part that really scared me was that it kept following me. Why was it after me? What had I done?

I tried to run away from it; dodging and weaving down a side alley a few blocks from my home, but no matter what I did, or how fast I ran, it stayed right in my face. I yelled out at it.

I said, “Get away from me. You’re not real. You are just trying to scare me and screw up my mind. I have your number. You’re a phony. I’m not scared of you. You’re just a Halloween prankster. Get out of my face.”

The death mask didn’t respond. There wasn’t a sound coming from it. It just kept dogging me. I tried to rationalize about what was happening to me.

“Johnny,” I said to myself. “Don’t let this creep get the better of you. You are too smart to be scared off by some dumb Halloween mask. Don’t let him scare you. Laugh in his face.

That’s when it happened. I gathered all my courage and told the Face of Death I knew he was a phony and I laughed in his face. And then I felt it. It was like a searing pain in the pit of my stomach. I felt so sick; I thought I was going to die. I dropped my own mask of an alien crocodile man-eater, and ran home as fast as I could, yelling at the top of my lungs.

“Mommy, mommy, let me in. The Face of Death is after me and he is trying to kill me. I feel like my stomach is going to explode. I am in terrible pain. He is killing me. Help me. I’m too young to die like this.”

My mother tried her best not to laugh in my face. She asked me how much candy I had eaten. I was so scared that I told the truth for a change, and admitted to eating about a half a bowl full from trick or treat scavenging during the earlier part of the evening. My mother suggested a trip to the bathroom, a glass of warm milk, and getting in bed and going to sleep. I did what she said, and the pain started to go away. I was so relieved.

I was lying in bed thinking how stupid I had been to get scared by a mask on Halloween. I felt much better, and realized how silly I had been. This was Halloween, that’s all. I was safe now in my bed, in my bedroom where I could be a child again, and not feel scared of the dark because I kept my night light on and my mother was downstairs watching TV. And then it happened.

I was just dozing off when I heard my mother scream. “Johnny,” she yelled, “Come quick, it is your father. He fell down and grabbed his chest. I think he has had a heart attack. Run next door and get Doctor Able to come right over. Hurry Johnny, please hurry,” she cried.

I ran downstairs, and saw my father lying on the floor. He looked like he wasn’t breathing and white bubbly foam was coming out of his mouth. I ran outside and jumped off the front porch to go to our next-door neighbor, Doctor Able, for help.

That’s when I saw him again. The Face of Death was right in front of me keeping me from getting to the front door of Doctor Able. I tried to run past him, but he wouldn’t let me. Now I knew he wasn’t here for me, but I was still scared. Doctor Able came storming out of his house with his black medical bag; my mother must have called him. Suddenly The Face of Death disappeared.

I don’t know if this was the real thing, or just a Halloween prank gone horribly wrong, or my boy genius imagination run wild, or a terrible coincidence? My father recovered thank goodness, but I almost never go out on Halloween any more. I’ve come as close to facing death, as I want to on that holiday. Well maybe I’ll just go down the street for a little candy if the spirit of Halloween moves me, but I want to warn you to watch out for the Face of Death. Next year it could be you or your family that he is after. Next year this story could be real. Next year it might be your sense of reality that is challenged. Have a happy Halloween, and don’t eat too much candy.
*****

Hi, I am Arthur Levine, the author of the novel Johnny Oops. To read more about Johnny and his fictional wild escapades please access: http://johnnyoops.blogspot.com

The Prophet’s Wife

Sarhara stormed into Johnny’s office/den in Rancho Santa Fe, California and screamed at Johnny.

“How could you? I trusted you. I believed in you. Where is the bimbo? I want her out of here immediately. I want her fired. I thought I was your one true love. My father warned me about you. He told me you were a bum and a charlatan.”

Johnny responded meekly in a low weak voice, “This is your fault. You know I can’t control my urges. Why did you ever hire this blonde bombshell, Dixie Kups? Was it to tempt me? Were you testing my love for you? I guess I have failed miserably, but I still love only you. This Dixie Kups woman means nothing to me. You go ahead and fire her.”

Sarhara stormed out of the room to find Dixie and fire her, but she had already left the premises as soon as she heard that Sarhara had arrived. A bigger problem was Sarhara’s father, the Rabbi Frenbren’s demand that Johnny take Kabala out of the name of his religion. She didn’t know how to approach Johnny on the subject. When she finally broached the subject, his response was startling.

Johnny laughed and said, “It will be my pleasure. I only added the name Kabala to pacify your old goat of a father. Let him take his ancient mysticism back to the Middle Ages. My religion is all about the here and the now and the future. The only thing I care about is you.”

Sarhara called her father to tell him the good new, but she didn’t know how to tell him she had decided to give Johnny another chance so she made up a story based on ancient Jewish mysticism.

‘Rebbi, it is your Sarhara. I have had a dream. I need you to interpret it, and tell me what to do. First let me tell you that Johnny is tasking the name of Kabala out of his religion with great sadness. This is what happened in my dream.”

“I saw a ghost like figure, an old woman with a big mole on her nose, dressed in billowing clouds of white chiffon hovering and circling over my head as I was lying in the middle of a muddy street with my cloths in taters. She spoke to me in a crackling hoarse whisper and told me that if I didn’t remain faithful to my marriage vows that I would end up going around in circles and rolling in the mud for the rest of my life, and so would my father the honorable and venerated Rabbi Frenbren. She told me that she knew this to be so because this is what happened to her when she left her Rabbi the great, great, great grandfather of my father six times removed who went by a completely different name and was from the old country. What does this mean father?

Rabbi Frenbren said in a trembling voice, “It is a vision. Our family gets them from time to time. Whatever you do don’t leave this bum Johnny the Prophet. This could bring disaster to the whole family including me. You will have to stay with the charlatan for the sake of the family. This is your curse for convincing me to let you marry this no good nick in the beginning. I wish she had told you our original family name. I can’t trace it back that far.”

“Yes father, yes, I will do as you wish. I will live with this no good bum of mine forever for the sake of the family.”

Sarhara then went to see Johnny again and told him, “Okay this is the deal. I will stay with you, but you can forget about fooling around in the foreseeable future even if you are a prophet, but if you ever are unfaithful to me again I will have you running around in circles in the mud for the rest of your life. Do you understand? The wise woman of Kabala has come to me in a dream like vision, and this is what she told me. You can count on it. I have the ‘word’ of the Ghost of Kabala.”

Johnny swore he would never be unfaithful again. He secretly thought to himself, ‘Boy now everyone is a prophet including my wife. I thought I was supposed to be the only one that had visions around here.”
****


Hi, I am Arthur Levine, the author of the novel Johnny Oops. To read more about Johnny and his fictional wild escapades please access: http://johnnyoops.blogspot.com

The Prophet’s Speech At Both Ways Hokum University

Johnny strode to the podium with a glare in his eyes as he got set to address the student body at Both Ways Hokum University in San Francisco, Ca. He was a man with a purpose intent on delivering a message he was convinced had been sent to him by God.

He started to rant, “You do not understand, you do not understand. Of course you do not understand, but don’t worry, God came to me in a dream and told me it’s all right. He doesn’t expect us to understand. All we have to do is have faith.”

“We are all sinners. Do you hear me? Are you a sinner? Do you understand it’s all right to be a sinner? God came to me in a dream and told me it’s all right because we are all sinners. Do you understand?”

“What’s in your hearts? Do you have good intentions? In my dream God told me it’s all right that we are sinners as long as we believe and want to do better. Do you understand?”

“My fellow students, my friends, members of my flock, The Dialectic Rationalization of Kabalistic Materialism Religion will show you the way. All you have to do is have faith, and renounce your sinning ways. Do you admit you are a sinner? Do you want to stop sinning? Do you believe and have faith? What do you have to say? Hurry, God may be waiting to hear from you.”

“I can tell you that I personally have been a sinner with my assistant Dixie Kups here who is going to distribute my ‘God Saves’ pamphlets to you, but that’s all right because God understands.”

The audience, which consisted of some twenty thousand students, alumni, and local followers, jumped to their feet and started to storm the stage yelling we are sinners, we are all sinners, show me the way. Dixie kups had just been motioned by Johnny the prophet to center stage, and it is unclear whether the audience was trying to get to Johnny or to Dixie who was trying to distribute the ‘God Saves’ pamphlets on Johnny’s instructions dressed in a revealing mini skirt. In either case a campus riot ensued. The local police were called in and tried in vain to quell the raucous crowd who tore up the stage trying to get to Johnny and Dixie. The crowd ended up putting both Johnny and Dixie on their shoulders and marching towards downtown San Francisco shouting, “We are all sinners, show me the way.” They were at the same time grabbing each other in their private parts as the Dialectic Rationalization of Kabalistic Materialism Religion preached was all right as part of its doctrine.

The following morning the San Francisco Chronicle Newspaper ran a front-page article saying that Johnny’s Dialectic Rationalization of Kabalistic Materialism Religion had caused a riot in downtown San Francisco when members of the student body rioted because they couldn’t get to a stripper named Dixie who was the prophet’s assistant and ended up grabbing each other in a wild mass orgy of sinners and body parts.

Poor Johnny, his wife Sarhara read the article on the Internet back home in South Hampton, New York, and flew to San Francisco to straighten her prophet out. Rumor has it that there was going to be hell to pay for Johnny’s indiscretions. But Johnny didn’t care. He was convinced it was all right that he was a sinner because God had told him so.

In the meantime back in the South of France, Rabbi Frenbren, the Kabalistic Mystic, was being bombarded by his followers who had seen the reports on the evening news on the BBC to Get our good name out of that phony prophet’s religion or else God would cast a spell on him and your daughter that would make him wish he had never heard the name Kabala.”

The old rabbi sadly wrote to his daughter that she must leave Johnny, and insisted that he immediately take the name Kabala out of his phony religion. He told her that his counsel of religious peers had spoken, and that it was God’s will. He told her that God works in mysterious ways, and that her marriage to Johnny was one of the strangest aberrations of all times.

Poor Sarhara, what was she to do? She was torn by her love for her father and her love for her husband. Her old religious beliefs stood in her way, but she truly believed in the ‘words’ of her prophet Johnny. What she really needed was a miracle to show her the way. What she really needed was a husband who would stop sinning. Oops, for that to happen she would need a miracle that even Johnny Oops, her love and her prophet, was not capable of performing.

I Am A Sinner – What About You?

I don’t know how I get myself into these situations. One moment I am dreaming that God has taken me by the hand, and the next I am giving in to my worst instincts and shacking up with every beautiful woman I meet. Let me tell you what happened.

That’s right, I Johnny Oops am a sinner, and I need your help to show me how to stop sinning. Are you a sinner too, or have you learned how to control your urges? This type of illicit activity is unbecoming to a prophet. What will my wife say? What will my flock think? Oh God, where are you when I need your help? This is what happened.

It all started innocently enough. We had opened offices – huge mansions in effect – in Rancho Santa Fe California and South Hampton, New York. I had gone to California to entertain and solicit some big Hollywood Moguls, and Sarhara stayed behind in South Hampton to meet and greet the local big donors.

Sarhara had evidently hired me a secretary in Rancho Santa Fe by phone interview because I am notoriously bad at organizational activities of any kind, and need someone to in effect take care of me. Many great people are disorganized dreamers and that includes prophets like me.

I was sitting in my office/den when this gorgeous blonde walked in wearing a mini skirt that revealed more than it hid of what in my opinion was the best looking female body I have ever seen, except for my wife of course.

She strode over to me and grabbed me in my private parts and said, “I want to make a contribution and this is all I have to offer.”

I honestly don’t remember whether she told me that she was my secretary or her name before or after we had sex. I’m not sure I really care. I frankly blame my darling wife Sarhara for this. She had no right to hire a secretary for me over the phone. If she had seen Dixie Kups in person, I don’t think she ever would have hired her. My darling wife trusts me, but this is ridiculous.

I plan to mention my sinning ways in a speech I will give shortly in San Francisco, California titled Are You A Sinner. Hopefully I will get many positive eager responses from my flock who will be in attendance. Just to be on the safe side I will bring Dixie in her Mini skirt with me to hand out my ‘God Saves’ programs. That should arouse the men in attendance to acceptance that they are sinners who often gave in to their own worst instincts. I don’t intend to enter this self-inflicted self-help confessional alone. I want company while I’m suffering in my intellectual water closet if you get my drift.

I have once again asked God for his help in controlling my urges. I think He has answered me. He came to me in another dream saying, “Hold on, the best is yet to come.”

What did he mean by that? Sometimes God acts in mysterious ways that I cannot begin to understand. What about you? Are you beginning to understand that we are all sinners? Are you getting the message? Do you have faith that the best is yet to come?

The Dream That Changed The World

Johnny woke up in a cold sweat. He had just had a dream that both frightened him and at the same time made him feel wonderful. In his dream he was floating in space in the palm of what he perceived to be a giant Hand. He was able to see and travel through beautiful galaxies all on this gigantic Hand, and he saw the wonders of the world. Johnny remembered asking out loud where he was, and who this Hand belonged to. He remembered the Hand answering him.

“Who are you?” Johnny asked.

A soft voice answered, “I am the Hand of God.”

“Why are you here?” Johnny asked.

“I am here because you need enlightenment,” said the voice of God.

“I do not understand. Have I done something wrong?”

“We all do things wrong. It is not important. What is important is what you intend to do. Do not worry, I know you do not understand.”

“I don’t know what I should be doing.”

“That is why I am here, to help you find your way.”

“When will I know what to do?”

“You will know when you are ready, when you truly believe.”

“But please Dear God, when will I be ready?”

“Keep asking the question. You are getting closer.”

With that last statement Johnny felt a gentle shove and felt like he had been plopped back down on his bed. He woke up in a sweat calling for his wife Sarhara.

“Sarhara, Sarhara, you will never believe what just happened to me. The Hand of God spoke to me. He told me I was getting closer to understanding what I should do with my life.”

“Of course He did,” Sarhara said. “Why wouldn’t He talk to his own prophet?”

“No, you don’t understand. This time I could swear He really spoke to me.”

“Of course dear, He always does.”

“No Sahara, you do not understand, but I love you anyway, this much God has taught me. He has taught me to have faith.”

“I understand that you are my prophet Johnny. I don’t need to know any more.”

“My darling Sarhara, I am discovering more and more that I am just a humble human being – that is of course if any of this is real, and not just part of a dream. But I believe and I have faith and therefore I believe that I am real. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“As far as I’m concerned my darling Johnny, the prophet has spoken.”

"I am going to have to share with the whole world what just happened to me. I have to tell them it's all right that we do not understand. I evidently am a prophet, and I have the 'word'. I have to tell them that we are getting closer to God if we just believe and have faith, and that is all that is important. Isn't it wonderful? I can't wait to tell everyone."
*****


Hi, I am Arthur Levine, the author of the novel Johnny Oops. To read more about Johnny and his wild escapades please access: http://johnnyoops.blogspot.com

The Dialectic Rationalization Of Kabalistic Materialism: Johnny Oops

Johnny woke up to a kind of adulation he could only have dreamed of in the past. The episode with God’s Hand lightening bolt had made him famous as a new prophet throughout Europe and the United States. In recognition of the ancient Jewish mystic benefits that his wife Sarhara had persuaded him had helped him become a recognized prophet, he added the name of their religion to his own. Sahara’s father, Rabbi Frenbren, was not sure whether this was to be taken as a blessing or a curse, and retreated into his library to study his ancient Kabala texts in hope of finding an answer. Johnny had no such doubts and returned to the United States, which awaited his arrival with great anticipation.

Johnny said, “Look at that Sarhara, there are thousands of our followers waiting to greet us here at the airport. Isn’t this wonderful?”

“Yes, yes, it is wonderful,” replied Sahara, tugging at his sleeve. “The people love you, but what do we next?”

Johnny smiled and said, “I have a great idea, let’s tour all the states by train just like Roosevelt did, or was that Truman. Maybe I should run for office.”

Back home in the South of France Rabbi Frenbren felt a sudden chill as a cold wind blew through his library room window. Strange he thought for it to be so cold in the middle of the summer, but stranger things than this were about to happen. Johnny was going on tour, and he was running for a new cabinet position he wanted created as head religionist for the United States. He harbored no hesitation about the legal restrictions on separation of church and state. To Johnny’s way of thinking anything that Johnny did was legal because he was a prophet who carried the message of God.

Johnny had the ‘word’, and the ‘word’ was, “I’m in charge of religion around here.”

At lunch that day over cracked crab and lobster, Sarhara told him, “I hope you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew. Lobster isn’t kosher you know. The other major religions won’t be happy about this.”

Johnny smirked and said, “I make the rules around here.”

Sarhara smiled and replied, “I know, I know, but even you have to be accountable to a higher authority.”

Johnny turned pale, bowed his head and said, “Let us pray,” as he choked on a lobster claw that had gotten stuck in his throat. For once he was speechless except to struggle in a hoarse voice to whisper, “God has spoken. I will return to my ministry. No more politics for me. I have been given the ‘word’, and the ‘word’ is if I don’t shut up I will lose the ‘word’. I have gotten the message.”

Sahara said to herself, “I hope so, but I don’t believe it. I love him, but he will never shut up. Maybe I will just have to keep feeding him lobster. I wonder why a genius like him doesn’t know to take the shells off? I wonder if my father and his ancient mystic Kabala spells have something to do with this? Something doesn’t smell kosher around here.”
*****

Hi, I am Arthur Levine, the author of the novel Johnny Oops. To read more about Johnny and his wild escapades please access: http://johnnyoops.blogspot.com