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find the answer to the question that has not bothered any one at all, ever.

who is punk monkey?

punk monkey 

Oh, how I long for the simpler days of my life as a lab rat; the maze where we would be tricked on a regular basis; the little buttons that either gave food or a jolting electric pop that would cause you to go into convolutions and drool all over yourself; those special little colored food pills filled with chemicals that caused my fellow rats to either grow extra limbs, lose their hair, or simply grow large bulbous things on their backs and heads – a simpler life, a simpler time, when I knew the face of my god.

She was tall, and always dressed in a long white coat.  She fed me, shocked me, pet me and cleaned my cage.   She did everything for me; she knew my every need and met them.  She was everything to me, she had power and control – she was the perfect god, all knowing, all seeing, and all understanding – well, not “all” as in “all” but “all” as in “all most all.”   Then the transformation – due to Formula 527B and some pretty cool gene-splicing – I became a US Senator.  Upon that transformation I realized my god was not a god, just a cute chick in a lab coat.  So, as the Senator, my god changed –

Being a Senator was fun.  Days filled with bribes, kickbacks, pay-offs and interns; evening filled with brides, kickbacks, pay-offs and other interns.  What a life, and believe it or not simpler times and I knew the face of my god.  I saw it in my eyes every morning over a bloody mary, a Cuban cigar and money drops.  My god was greed; self-centered, self-indulgenced, all consuming greed.  I did not care for anyone – anyone but myself.  Sure, I liked the occasional stray cat, or lost puppy, but if it did not make me richer, or get me on TV, I wanted nothing to do with it.  I would sponsor bills that made friends rich, because I knew they would kickback some and make me rich.  Yea, I did the campaign thing – you know where you lie to the people you are trying ti sucker into voting for you – then when your elected you do noting about what you said in the first place.  I was happy, and I understood my god.  Then it happened, some wacky glitch in Formula 527B and the amino acids used in the gene splicing, I became a punk monkey.

Don’t get me wrong, I like being a punk monkey it has its advantages.  For example, if I wear a funny hat, funky vest and hold a tin cup while dancing to horrid music, people think it’s cute and they give me money – granted, nothing Senatorial but it’s a living.   Life is easy as a punk monkey, eat some fruit, poop, eat a bug, poop, eat paper, poop, dance with tin cup, poop, shriek and make cute faces, poop, poop, poop.  Yup, it can get a bit routine, but hey it’s a living.  The best part about it all, I truly see the face of my God.  Each and every time I see a child being held by a parent, an elderly man being helped with his groceries, a homeless family given the opportunity at shelter, and when people feed the hungry, for free – I see the face of my God.

You see, it took three evolutions in myself to realize my god was not science or human teachings; my god was not greed or human power; my god was not part of my limited creation.  My God was real and working in the lives of many.  My God was active in caring for and loving the hurting, the lost, the homeless, the hungry, the abused and the outsiders.  My God was active in his creation, in his love for that creation and in his hope that we learn to love his creation as much.  It’s amazing, but it took me becoming a punk monkey to realize the great diversity in God’s creation and my desire to get involved with that creations.  It’s funny, but as I look back and try to see the faces of my past gods, I see nothing.  But as I look forward and into the face of the true God, I see hope, peace, love and most of all – I see you.  

PuNk mOnKEy -