Saturday 6 September 2014


One day, a goddess was walking wearily through time and space, and her back was aching.

This happens to goddesses sometimes, just as it does with regular women.

Her back was aching just a bit too much, even for a goddess. Even for a goddess with premenstrual stress.

So the goddess decided to sit down, and did so on a soft, dusty moon, propping her feet up on the nice convenient planet that moon orbited. But the planet was covered with nasty sharp mountains, and the jagged peaks of some of them cut her bare toes.

Since goddesses can be petulant, especially when they’re on their periods, she kicked out with her foot at the planet, and moved off in a huff. But soon enough she forgot all about it, and in any case she never came that way again.

It was a big universe, after all.

And, somewhere, in front of a wandering tribe fleeing from an avenging king, the Red Sea parted.

Copyright B Purkayastha 2014

Friday 5 September 2014


Lying abed, drifting down the river of stars
That cross between the lands of Sleep and Dream
I had a strange and curious fancy.

I saw before me –
A grey and iron plain
With grass all withered dry, blessed with just one tree
Bare branches lifted to an iron sky;
The skeleton of a tree, more than a tree.

The barbed wire on posts went to the horizon
And came sweeping back again
In lines as orderly as soldiers on parade.

And all on that grey plain was a mass, a horde, a multitude
Of people; grey as the air, grey as the sky
With the grey of hopelessness in their eyes.
Ragged as the day, they stood in straggling lines
Or quietly faded away.

And there before them, I
Like a god, above them all
Standing tall.

And I knew I had the power
Of life, of death, in that grey plain,
The power of gun, the power of my pen
The power of the badge upon my chest,
To give, and to take away.
They looked at me with frightened eyes
And I had charge of their lives –

And I was beautiful.

And they –
The dregs of the earth –
Nigger, Jude, Untermensch, Hadji,
Gook, Injun, Raghead, Spic
The beggar with the ragged coat
And the two-legged beast
Wearing a kaffiyeh in black and white.

They were not beautiful.

And I wiped them out
From the field
Under my shining boots. They vanished
With hardly a cry
Like fog in the morning wind
Ugly, dirty, hopeless
They deserved to go.

And then I stood
Victorious on the plain
Alone, justified

But there was nobody to see
Nobody to fear me
I was no longer


Copyright B Purkayastha 2014


Thursday 4 September 2014

Ten easy questions for those who say Russia invaded Ukraine

Dear supporters of the hypothesis that Russia has “invaded” Ukraine, please answer these simple questions:

        1.     Where are all the Russian forces that have carried out this “invasion”? Where are their vehicles, their support services, and their heavy weaponry? Where are the photographs proving this? Why is it that except for a black and white picture showing tiny vehicles, which could be anyone’s and anywhere, the West hasn’t provided one shred of evidence?

       2.     What has Russia got to gain by carrying out an “invasion” by 1000 soldiers, as per Obama’s own claims? 1000 soldiers aren’t even two battalions.

       3.     If Russia invaded Ukraine, why is it that Russia is pressing for the rebels to settle for a solution within Ukraine, in peace talks? Why isn’t Russia recognising the independence of the Lugansk and Donetsk People’s Republics? Why, in fact, did Putin ask the Duma to revoke the authorisation it had given him to intervene militarily in Ukraine?

       4.     If the civil war in Ukraine is between “good” Ukrainians and “evil” Russians, why is the Prime Minister of Novorossiya, Aleksandr Zakharchenko, an ethnic Ukrainian?

        5.     If the war is between Russian forces and Ukrainian troops, why is it that the Ukrainians who have been surrounded prefer to flee into Russia, after which they are returned to Ukraine?

       6.     Why is it that the Ukraine army finds it necessary to randomly shell cities in Eastern Ukraine if they’re fighting Russian troops?

 7.  If the Russians have invaded Ukraine, why haven’t they – given the fact that the Ukraine army has virtually ceased to exist – made a push to take Kiev, something they could do with no trouble at all, and settle the matter permanently?

8.  What are Polish mercenaries and Scandinavian Nazi volunteers doing fighting on the Ukrainian side? And why does the Ukrainian side have openly Nazi formations like the Azov and Dnepr Battalions in the front line?

       9.     Why is it that when, in peace talks, the delegates from Novorossiya said they were willing to settle for autonomy within Ukraine, it was “President” Poroshenko who refused to sign a peace deal?

       10.  Why is it that though the West keeps accusing Russia of having given the separatists “sophisticated” weapons, they can’t show a single item which the separatists couldn’t simply have obtained from the thousands of surrendering and defecting Ukrainian Army troops?

I am not even going to ask you why the US and its Dutch, Australian and British allies, in conjunction with the so-called government of Ukraine haven’t released the information contained in the MH17 black boxes. Since you’re so convinced that Russia has invaded Ukraine, the questions I am asking should be easy enough to answer.


(And, finally, just as a bonus, here's an eleventh question for you:)

11. After all the endless lies the West has been telling since the Korean War, about Tonkin Bay, about the Kuwait incubator babies, about the alleged massacres in Kosovo and Libya, about Iraq's WMDs, about Assad's "gas attacks", why should we believe a single word you have to say about anything at all?

"Inevitable end for dear fascists"

Further reading:

The Sword of Alkahar

Great was the warrior Alkahar, and his name was well known to all the Lands between the Seas.

Great was the warrior Alkahar, and the lands which knew the tread of his steed’s iron hooves quaked in fear, and breathed easy again only when he had passed by.

All through the realms between the two seas rode the warrior Alkahar, on his great black horse Logash, the colour of a starless night. And the people knew that black horse; and they knew the mighty figure on his back, clad in armour of bronze and iron. And most of all they knew his mighty sword, Bumaka, of which it was said that it could never know rest unless it had slaked its thirst in blood at least once in the course of a day.

And the warrior Alkahar was on a ceaseless quest, too, for new lands to conquer, for it was a hunger that drove him just as much as the sword Bumaka was driven by the thirst for blood. But he had at last conquered all the lands between the two seas.

So one day the warrior Alkahar went to the oracle who lived in statue inside a cave over a lake where the sun never shone; and he demanded to know where he might find fresh realms to subdue.

 Then the oracle spoke from its stone mouth. “Far to the north of here,” it said, “past the mountains that reach to the sky, there are new lands for your sword to slake its thirst. But the mountains are impenetrable, and the people of that land are strange and know things unguessable to those of the south, so that you would be better advised to stay away.”

“I have never yet met anyone I was afraid of,” said Alkahar. “I have subdued warlocks and mages as well as armies, and I have never met my equal. So I will go north of the mountains, and conquer what lies there, and I will return with proof of my success.”

So Alkahar donned his armour, buckled on his mighty sword Bumaka, and on his great black horse set forth to the north. Many days passed, ere he reached the mountains that reached the sky. And perhaps he might not have found a way past them, for they were a stone wall that rose towards the heavens. But Alkahar drew his sword, and struck the mountain a mighty blow, so that it broke apart in twain and offered him a passage through. And so he passed through the mountains, and at last came to a goodly plain.

And green and beautiful were the lands to the north of the mountains. Sparkling brooks ran between pleasant fields by beautiful villages peopled with handsome men and beautiful women. And none of them were afraid of the warrior Alkahar, for they had never heard of him before.

Then a great weariness came to the soul of Alkahar, as he paused on his black horse and looked on this happy land. And he said to himself, “I have had enough of conquering and killing. For the first time in years without number I have seen people who do not flee in terror at my approach, and where armies do not come to try and cut me down. For the first time in years I feel myself a man among men.” And he got down from his horse, and unsaddled and unbridled him; and then he went down to the villages.

And there he dwelt, calling himself Benord, for the warrior Alkahar was a man from he past. And Benord and took to himself a merry laughing woman to wife; and she bore him a daughter whom he loved dearer than life itself. By the time two years had passed, you might never have known that this was the man who had once been the greatest warrior between the two seas.  

One day in the middle of a bleak winter, when the sky was heavy with cloud and the frost lay like iron on the fields, Benord was far from home, hunting in the forests to the east, for he wanted furs to keep his wife and child warm. Then it was that cruel raiders swept down from the farther north, destroyed the village, and killed all who could not escape. And when Benord returned, his home was in ashes, and his wife and daughter slain.

Then the soul of Benord was filled with a white rage such as he had never felt before; and he turned away from the ashes of his home. And he went to the shed where he had put away his armour and his saddle and his bridle, and where his sword Bumaka lay, thirsty from its long neglect.

Benord put on his armour and buckled on his sword, and he whistled for his horse Logash; and the beast, who had waited all the months for such a summons, came trotting up from the woods beyond the fields.

And then the man who was Benord ceased to exist, and it was Alkahar who sat astride the great horse, and he was the most fearsome warrior of the land between the two seas. And Alkahar set out to find the raiders who had killed his wife and daughter, for he was determined to bring on them the vengeance that was their due. The only one whom he took with him was one Delknoth, who knew the language of the peoples of the further north, and who too mourned his family.

Then Alkahar and Delknoth hunted the raiders and harried them from the plains to the rivers and back again, until he had lain waste to them all. But the warrior’s vengeance was not slaked; and he ventured ever northwards, destroying all those who were in his way; and then, at last, one frozen morning, he stood on the edge of a grey and frozen valley, in the furthest north, beyond which the world ends.

And there in the middle of the valley was a village, in this the last land before the end of the world; and the sword Bumaka stirred in its scabbard, for it thirsted for blood even more, after its long, long thirst.

And then Delknoth said to Alkahar, “Let us not go down into this valley, for the people of this village are famed as mages and worse; and, besides, none of them was in any way responsible for the loss of our loved ones. Let us rather turn homewards, and in time, perhaps, our sorrows will heal.”

But Alkahar looked down at the village, and his anger burned bright within him; and the sword Bumaka stirred again in its scabbard. And he went down into the village, roaring his vengeance, and slew all he found. And the houses crumbled and burst into flames at the blows of his sword, and Bumaka sang its joy, tasting of the rich red blood again and once more.

But then at the very end of the village there was a small hut, and before it stood a woman, behind whose skirts small children hid. And the woman crossed her arms across her breast and refused to flee before Alkahar, the greatest warrior of the land between the seas and of the northern wastes.

But Alkahar raised his sword and struck her a mighty blow, and then slew the children as they ran; and he destroyed the hut, burning it to ashes. And then, the flame of vengeance in his heart slaked for the moment, he came back to the woman, who lay dying on the ground, with Delknoth bending over her.

And the woman looked up at Alkahar with eyes filled with hate; and in her language she uttered a few unknown words, and then she sank back and died.

Then Delknoth looked at Alkahar, and terror was in his countenance. “I fear for you, my friend,” he said. “This woman has cursed you with a great and terrible curse, a curse worse than any I could ever have even imagined. And I fear now to be even with you, lest the curse touch me too.”

Alkahar looked at the man who had become his friend, and he looked at the woman lying on the ground, and at all he had done. “What is this curse?” he asked.

“I fear even to speak it. Nor will I stay by your side again. Find your own way in the world, and farewell.” So saying, Delknoth took his leave of Alkahar and rode away, and not once did he ever look back.

And Alkahar frowned after him for a moment; and he turned to look at his sword, Bumaka, and his horse, the great Logash, and he said to them, “You then, my friends, will come with me.”

But the horse Logash, for the first time ever, took fright at his touch, and galloped away after Delknoth, and was lost to view.

“You, at least, will stay faithful,” Alkahar said to Bumaka, and the sword glinted in agreement with the fires of the burning village.

And Alkahar the warrior went forth into that land in the far north, to seek further blood to sate his vengeance and his sword’s unending thirst. And he was great and mighty as the glacier, and swift as the wind; many were those he killed, so that his name became as well known, and feared, as it had been in the lands of the south, long ago.

Then the day came when Alkahar said to himself, “There are no places left to conquer, here in the distant north. I shall now go south again, through the mountains that touch the sky, to the land between the two seas. I shall go to the oracle, and prove to the statue of stone that I have been victorious, again, in the north. And, perhaps, by now they will have forgotten the name of Alkahar in the land between the seas, and there will be new conquests to be made.”

And so he strode across the plains and through the fields which once had lain so pleasant; and those that lived there hid in the forests and fearfully watched him go by.

So Alkahar the warrior came to the mountain that one day, so long ago, he had split in twain with his sword Bumaka; and he passed through into the cleft, his armoured boots treading the ground.

And then the ground shook with a mighty shaking; and the cleft in the mountain closed, endless tons of rock and earth falling in on the warrior. And though he raised the sword Bumaka to protect himself, the blow of a colossal boulder split it in two, and the broken blade sliced into his chest, just below the heart.

And Alkahar the warrior lay buried beneath the mountain, and waited for death to come and set him free.

And the time passed, and, little by little, he remembered the curse, the curse that had been the most terrible ever uttered, the one which made it impossible for his friend or his horse to stay by his side.


Time has passed on silent feet through all the lands between the seas. 

The oracle still stands in its lonely cave above the sunless lake, but it is long forgotten, and nobody has visited it in a thousand years. The old kingdoms are long fallen, the ancient cities crumbled to dust, and new ones risen and fallen in their stead. Out in the north, the fields are again green and the rivers sparkle, and little villages dot the plain. And the mountains that touch the sky have closed the way between the two lands again, so that they have forgotten each other’s existence.

Legends have grown up and fallen away, of ancient warriors on mighty steeds and swords which thirsted for blood. Legends have murmured of mighty curses, and of a vengeance that shook the sun and the stars.

And deep in the earth under the mountain, Alkahar lies, with the sword in his heart, waiting, waiting.

It has been centuries since he could even remember his wife’s and daughter’s names or faces, and still he keeps trying.

Copyright B Purkayastha 2014   

Wednesday 3 September 2014

Raghead: The Cauldron

Update: Now that Poroshenko's army has been annihilated, and he's agreed to a ceasefire in the East, it appears that I have been proved right once again.

Copyright B Purkayastha 2014 

Tuesday 2 September 2014

A Story of the Desert

The day the lion came to Lugan, the sun was high in the sky, and the dun sands of the desert lapped against the dun walls of the town.

The lion was a creature of the desert, as brown and sunburnt as the sand itself, with a ragged mane and sinewy limbs which had not a morsel of spare flesh on them. And he was as pitiless as the sun itself, his teeth as sharp as the wind, and his victims as many as the stars that shone in the sky during the long, freezing nights.

In vain did the elders of the Council have thorn barricades built atop the walls and post armed guards at all the gates. Each evening, when the darkness cloaked the streets of the town with shadow, the lion leaped over the entanglements, or broke through one of the armed cordons, and by morning yet more of the population had been claimed.

“It is a devil lion,” the priests said, “and we must make sacrifice in the temples, so that the gods destroy it on our behalf.” And they prayed to all the gods in the name of the people, but the gods answered not.

Then the people of the town fell to despairing, and told themselves that they had but two choices, to leave their homes and wander the desert, or to perish at the beast’s fearsome fangs.

“Save us,” they said to anyone who might listen. “Save us from this cruel devil, and we will make you a god, greater than any of the gods who have failed us in our hour of need.”

Now among them dwelt the hero Dawoosh, a man so great that tales of him were told in towns all over the desert, in Ramok and Shalot, and even in far Haram. And when he heard the people crying, he took up his great spear and his shield of leather, and he put on his feather war-bonnet, and he went down to save the people of his city.

And when the people saw him coming, they raised a mighty cheer; for they surely thought their deliverance was at hand.

And Dawoosh the hero strode out along the battlements of the city, behind the barrier of thorns, and waited for the lion to appear, so that he could slay him.

But the lion was more astute than Dawoosh himself; and when the night lay freezing cold and the blood of men was thick and sluggish in their veins, he squeezed through a crack in the outer wall where it met the ground, and he climbed up to the battlements, where, coming upon Dawoosh from behind, he dealt the hero a mighty blow, wounding him with a most fearsome wound. And, leaving the hero for dead, the lion fled the city.

Then were the townsfolk filled with terror and despair; for, if even the great hero Dawoosh could not conquer the lion, what hope had anyone else?

Then Dawoosh’s son, young Mepal, came where his father lay abed, nearly dead from the wound he had received, but with the fire of life still burning in his eyes. And Mepal looked at Dawoosh, and he said, “Father, I will up and chase the lion, and I will avenge your spilt blood, even if I have to chase him across the great desert until the sun falls out of the sky.”

And Dawoosh looked at Mepal, and he said, “My son, think a while, for you do not know the desert. If you set out across it, you will find dangers that you have never met before, dangers to which a lion is nothing. You will pass the fair city of Irab, with its tall columns of marble, and from its tall towers maidens of breathtaking beauty will call you to tarry. But if you do, you will surely be lost, for they will take you for their own. No man has ever returned, who has once set foot in fair Irab.

“And if you pass Irab, you will mayhap find red-walled Tollum, where the wizards toil ceaselessly over their cauldrons of magic, and they will throw spells at you, to enchant you and make you their slave. Strong is the magic of red-walled Tollum, and no man can pass it by without being drawn towards it by the charms of the warlocks who dwell therein.

“And if you pass Tollum, you will come to the oasis of Ghuddup, where the waters are clear as air and cool as the mountains of Paras. But if you dare to drink from them, you will turn instantly to stone, to wait in that form until the sun and the moon are no more.

“But if you pass Ghuddup, in the course of time, you will come to far Khabbar, which was once so filled with wonder that people came from across the world to see it; but today it is a forsaken ruin, filled with only the lamentations of a million ghosts. And if you listen to their voices, you will be lost utterly, and become one with them.

“And what lies past Khabbar, nobody knows, for no man hath ever gone that far yet. Mepal, my son, think of these dangers, and reflect, before you go down to the desert.”

Then Mepal the son of Dawoosh bowed his head. “I have listened, my father,” he said. “But I have vowed to track down the devil lion and avenge your wound, and this I will do, despite all the dangers of the desert.”

And Dawoosh raised his weary hand in blessing, the hand which had once done so many deeds of wonder, and he said, “Go, then, my son, and if you ever return, may it be rejoicing.”

So Mepal donned his father’s great war-bonnet with the plume of feathers, and he took up his father’s spear and his shield of leather, and he strode out of the city. And his feet smote the desert with such force that far and wide the message went, “Mepal is walking the desert, and he passes like the wind.”

And the lion saw Mepal, and he loped off across the sands, his tawny form merging with the dun of the dunes; and Mepal saw him from afar, and followed.

Day followed day, and the sun rose high in the sky and sank unto her rest; and the lion moved on relentlessly, not pausing a moment to eat or drink. And Mepal followed, not pausing either, for he knew that to rest was to lose the trail. All he saw with his eyes was the lion’s distant form, and all his ears listened for was the beast’s panting breath.

And when the night lay freezing on the land, and the desert was dark but for the cold gleam of the stars and the slice of the waning moon, still he followed; for the lion’s roars allowed his ears to be the guide of the direction in which the beast was moving.

And so he came to the fair city of Irab, and maidens of surpassing beauty sang to him from atop the columned towers; but his eyes only sought the lion, and his ears only listened for its noises, and, heedless of the songs of the women, he passed them by.

Then he came to red-walled Tollum, and the warlocks who dwell therein hurled spells and enchantments against him, to muddy his mind and dull his thoughts until he might turn aside and be their slave. But his mind was fixed only on the lion, and he moved on, with the magic falling uselessly on the sands of the desert.

And then he came to the cool oasis of Ghuddup, and the wind called to him with the invitation to rest under the swaying date palms, and to slake his thirst from the water clear as air. And perhaps he might have forgotten his father’s words and turned aside, for he was weary and thirsty; but the lion moved on past the oasis without a pause, and Mepal followed  him into the desert.

And then he came to the great ruined city of Khabbar, which once was so beautiful; but the lion moved past, not approaching the tumbled stones. And the voices of the myriad of ghosts were just sighs in the winds of the desert.

And then Mepal the son of Dawoosh and the lion were alone in the desert, for they had come where no man had been before; and still the lion fled towards the setting sun, and the man followed behind him.

And then the time came when even the great strength and determination of Mepal was no longer enough against his thirst and exhaustion, and his limbs moved slower and slower. But before him he could see the lion moving, too, slower, and the beast’s ragged mane drooping in the desert heat.

Still the chase went on, across the desert; strange things of monstrous shape grew out of the sun and the air, and wavered and gibbered at man and beast alike. And mountains rose and fell on the far horizon, like waves of rock from a stony sea.

And then came the day when Mepal’s legs could take him no longer, and he stumbled and fell on the sand. And yet he tried to drag himself with his hands after the lion, until he could go no further, and he lay on the floor of the desert, helpless to follow even a hand’s span more.

Then the lion turned back, and the man’s ears heard the beast approach; and he gripped his great spear, hopeful even at this hour to strike a fatal blow.

But the lion stopped short of the reach of the spear, and when the young man looked up, he saw the beast sitting on the sand and looking at him calmly; and overcome by weariness, he slept.

And in his dream, the son of Dawoosh saw the lion, standing before him on a field of stone. “What manner of beast are you?” he asked the creature. “Are you truly a devil?”

And the lion replied, his voice sounding inside the young man’s head. “Son of Dawoosh, I am no devil; my only purpose was to bring you here, into the desert beyond the knowledge of man; for here it is that you will find the truth about yourself. Strike at me with your spear, if you desire, but it will gain you nothing but your death. Even if you chance to kill me, you will never find your way back to far Lugan, for while you have been chasing me, more years have passed than you can imagine, and the dunes of the desert have long buried that city’s bones.

“But if you choose to put your spear down at your side, and forswear revenge for union, you shall find that the friendship of one such as me is of greater worth than the sun and the stars can give. It is your choice to make, and only you can make it.”

And Mepal awoke, and saw the lion, which was lying by his side, watching him through yellow eyes; and he threw down his spear at his side, and the lion drew nigh unto him. And for long they looked into each other’s eyes, the man and the beast.

And thus is told the tale of Mepal, Lord of the Desert; and if ye go out into the sands when the sun is high, mayhap ye will see him in the distance, the feathers of his war-bonnet floating in the wind, and his leather shield and great spear in his hand; and if ye look closely, by his side goes the lion, ragged of mane and tough with sinew.

And if ye do see them, know that ye are safe, and no harm will ever come to you, as long as you travel the desert; for the shield of Mepal protects you from all danger, and the lion will keep watch to make sure all perils pass you by.

This is the tale of the God Mepal, and the lion who calls him friend.

Copyright B Purkayastha 2014

News from the Jerusalem Times, 33 AD


21 March 33. This morning, in a glittering ceremony attended by people from all over Judaea and Samaria, the Proconsul Pontius Pilatus declared the long-awaited Gladiatorial Games open.

“It gives me immense pleasure to see the enthusiasm with which the citizenry has been awaiting these Games,” he said, with translators interpreting his speech in Greek to Aramaic and Hebrew. “Sport is indeed the health of a society, and by their love of and appreciation for these games, I can see for myself how the people of this far corner of the Empire are no less interested in their mental and physical well-being than the citizens of Rome herself.”

The Games will last ten days, and approximately a thousand retiarii, dimachaerii, hoplomachii, murmilli, samnites and secutors will kill each other in the course of the event.

For tickets, please contact Messrs ben Gurion and Dayan, Impresarios, Palestine Avenue, Jerusalem.


22 March 33. The security services announced that the dangerous radical and terrorist, Jesus Christ, is approaching Jerusalem with a small but fanatical band of followers. Binyamin ben Barak, spokesman for the High Priest of the Temple, announced that Christ intends to storm the city in the near future, and announced immediate defensive measures.

What Christ’s actual demands are is not well known. It’s believed, however, that he is a charismatic demagogue whose far left wing ideology is aimed at overthrowing the long-established economic system in the city.

“He is a Communist and Socialist,” the spokesman said, referring to evaluations written by economists and psychologists at the Herod the Great University, “who has a Jehovah complex. He literally believes himself to be a kind of god. 

"Though his actual origins are shrouded in mystery, it's thought that he claims to be from the working class, possibly from a labouring background; a carpenter or something similar. Thus he may easily lead the workers astray with his demagoguery, and precipitate social unrest.

“He’s also announced himself to be the Emir of a new Jewish kingdom,” Barak added. “While this, of course, is not recognised by anyone, it is another dangerous idea that has to be nipped in the bud.”

He also said that Christ has established sleeper cells of agents throughout Jerusalem who intend to help him seize the city after his invasion.

“These agents are hard at work spreading subversion among the people,” Barak warned. “The sleeper cells with which he has seeded the city will emerge from hiding at the appropriate time and mobilise crowds of brainwashed supporters. They want to create the illusion of mass support, which will make it easy for Christ to claim he has popular backing for his Emirate of his self-proclaimed Jewish Kingdom.”

This newspaper asks its readers to immediately inform the authorities in case of any sign of activity from these sleeper cells.


23 March 33. The threatened invasion of Jerusalem took place today when the terrorist Jesus Christ stormed his way into the city at the head of his troops. As this newspaper had reported, his sleeper cells arranged for large crowds of civilians to line the route, and agents provocateurs among them raised slogans extolling him and the new Jewish kingdom he proclaimed.

Asked at the evening press conference why Christ able to invade the city despite all the warnings and precautions, Binyamin ben Barak, the spokesman for the High Priest said that the security forces’ hands had been tied.

“Not only did this Christ storm his way in using a donkey as a delivery system,” he said, “but his terrorist sleeper cells organised crowds which acted as human shields for him. Since our security services are very highly moral, we refused to risk harm to any of those people.”

Asked about the future activities of Christ, the spokesman said the security services were actively hunting him down. “He can’t hide and he can’t run,” Barak said. “He’s trapped in the city and it’s only a matter of time before we get him. In the meantime, though, we ask all citizens to maintain the highest levels of alert, especially in the places likely to be his targets.”

To questions regarding which areas are likely to be attacked by him, the spokesman singled out the Temple. “Christ has already announced that he is the Emir of a new Jewish Kingdom, and he will try and assault the centre of the religion in an act of terror. Also, as a communist and rabble-rouser, he wants to destroy the economic life of the city.” The market in the forecourt of the temple, which provides employment and generates wealth for so many people, would be a prime target.

The attack would come within the next few days, Barak claimed. “Time is not on Christ’s side,” he said. “If he does not carry out some spectacular action within the next few days he risks losing whatever measure of support he has achieved.”

All citizens need to remain vigilant and report all suspicious activity to the security services at once, he said. A reward of ten pieces of silver was announced, too, for information leading to the arrest of Christ himself.


24 March 33. This morning the terrorist kingpin Jesus Christ personally led his fanatical team into the Temple and destroyed the market in the forecourt, using a deadly weapon comprised of flexible lengths of knotted high-tensile fibres at supersonic speed. The merchants were forced to abandon their stock and profits and escape for their lives.

“Everything I had was invested in that market,” one of the merchants, Ehud ben Netanyahu, told the Times.  “I lost everything because of that damned terrorist.” Other merchants had similar things to say.

Having destroyed the market, an act of unparalleled economic sabotage, the terrorist team disappeared into the city and is assumed to be holed up in safe houses. An intensive search will be conducted for them soon, the High Priest’s spokesman Barak said, and announced that the reward on Christ’s head had been increased from ten pieces of silver to thirty.

The total amount of damage could not be immediately calculated, but is estimated to be in the thousands of shekels. Much valuable merchandise was destroyed, and some of the merchants accused Christ’s followers of looting, though that could not be independently verified. Others said that the merchants were inflating their losses, which were minimal, for insurance purposes.

“Much worse than the immediate loss is the long term effect on investor confidence,” the head of the Merchant’s Guild, Menachem ben Sharon, told the Times. “How many merchants will be ready to invest their money in a market which can be destroyed at any time by a gang of vicious terrorists?” He demanded that a Department of Urban Security be created immediately to nip any future terror threats in the bud.

“We cannot and will not bow to Communists,” he said, vowing that the market would be reconstructed.


25 March 33. Late last night, the radical Communist and self-styled Emir of the Jewish Kingdom, Jesus Christ was captured by a special anti-terrorist squad sent by High Priests Caiaphas and Annas from a garden in which he was hiding. Calling a special press conference, spokesman Barak said that the security services had successfully infiltrated the terrorist mastermind’s inner circle and had planted an agent among them. This agent finally led a hit team to the arch-terrorist himself.

“One of the security force personnel suffered injuries at the hands of some of the other terrorists with Christ, but fortunately should recover completely,” he said. “We categorically deny rumours that the security service resorted to bribery to get our hands on Christ. The security service does not pay bribes.”

According to available information, Christ’s immediate circle of terrorists managed to escape in the confusion following his capture. “It’s likely,” Barak said, “that they will attempt to set up fresh terror cells, possibly in neighbouring countries. Wherever they go, though, we will seek them, we will find them, and we will eliminate them.”

There has been no confirmation of a report that Christ’s second-in-command was spotted attempting to infiltrate the interrogation centre where the terrorist leader had been taken for preliminary questioning.


27 March 33. Yesterday, the captured terrorist leader Jesus Christ was executed by crucifixion.

“It was a fate he deserved,” the Temple spokesman Barak told reporters at the evening briefing. “Unlike what he had done with those opposed to him, he was given a full and fair trial before the Sanhedrin, and the sentence was confirmed not just by King Herod Antipater but by Pontius Pilatus himself.”

Asked about the possibility of popular anger, Barak was dismissive. “Christ badly overestimated the amount of support his agents had managed to provoke in his favour,” he said. “When given the choice of having him released, the people clamoured for his execution instead. It’s telling that they preferred to set a notorious criminal like Barabbas free instead of Christ; and they lined the streets to watch him being taken for crucifixion. The poisonous Communist doctrine he tried to spread has been definitively rejected.”

There was an attack by one of Christ’s terrorist cells, which threw devices in and around the Temple, damaging the great veil and causing panic among the people by producing blinding clouds of smoke. However, spokesman Barak rejected the possibility of it having been a rescue attempt. “The prisoner was well-guarded throughout the execution,” he said, “and was almost certainly already dead by the time of the attack.”

He said the body had been handed over for disposal to some of Christ’s carefully vetted and non-radical followers. “They can do whatever they want with his body,” Barak announced. “The problem has been dealt with.”

World leaders made no statement regarding the crucifixion, underlining the fact that Christ had not managed to gather any significant public support anywhere.


30 March 33. Yesterday morning it came to the notice of the police that the corpse of executed terrorist leader Jesus Christ had been stolen from its grave.

No other details are available.


31 March 33. In a splendid function today in Jerusalem, Proconsul Pontius Pilatus declared the Gladiatorial Games ended and congratulated all the participants and the audience.

He also announced that the Empire will be opening a gladiatorial training school to provide employment opportunities to the unemployed youth of Judea and Samaria.

“Perhaps some of them will be fortunate enough to fight and die for the entertainment of Great Caesar himself,” he said, to the cheers of the crowd.

More announcements about upcoming public entertainment projects are expected shortly.

Copyright B Purkayastha 2014 

Image copyright David Elkington/Rex Features