Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Mad Gods by Athanasios

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Bible Revelation is metaphorically crucified when the Antichrist refuses his destiny and makes an apocalyptic escape from Satanists, Templars, Dark Nobility & the Catholic Church.  

Kostadino Paleologos searches the entire world for a codex that is rumored to catalogue the Antichrist's past lives and finding it, throws prophecy into chaos.

He kidnaps and raises the infant Antichrist: calls him Adam and teaches what he learned in his search for the Idammah-Gan Codex.
He shows Adam that the truth to which every faith aspires cannot be seen because we who comprise these faiths: are flawed.
We see, hear, smell, taste and touch with inadequate tools. Even our intellect, on that which we rely to understand is limited; unable to comprehend the totality of truth.

Truth is too large -or too small- to absorb; it transcends everything. In the end the Antichrist sees that religion i.e. faith is outside reason, but whatever solace we get is lost in the translation. 

In third person to add a note of deluded self importantce. Athanasios works in Montreal as a graphic/video artist, illustrator & writer in dvd production & film. 

He has been researching & crafting Mad Gods: weaving in factual & rumoured history for over ten years.

Athanasios has been interested in religion & faith since childhood. This led to studying a bewildering variety of beliefs from pagan, wicca, judaism, christianity, islam, to hindu, buddhism, shinto, luciferianism & much more. The interest made its own momentum & brought Mad Gods.

His other interests include most entertainment, from film, to television & books. He won't try video games for the same reason he doesn't keep his favourite booze in the house; he would do nothing else. There was a short time that he was into World of Warcraft but that became the obsession he knew it would be. He had to leave it for a deeper & more engrossing one: Mad Gods.


Readers will enjoy an irreverent story that spans different continents & time periods. Its intricate plot connects a variety of characters who push the narrative into unexpected twists and turns.
It is a myth with epic characters, content and story from folklore and mythology but told within the context of our modern lives.


I self published because I can't get any literary agent or publisher to go further than a manuscript reading.
Every rejection letter I received said it was not for them. Mad Gods was not their cup of tea. One even said that Mad Gods was too "kitchen sinky" i.e. trying to do too much, encompassing too many themes all together.


As trite as this might sound everyday life provides much of my inspiration. So I jot down my thoughts on whatever is available and then every morning before I go to work I wake at 5 AM and write till I have to get on the train and work.


I grew up being scared out of my wits by the Exorcist & the Omen. They were released in theatres in 73 & 76 respectively, which made me 9 & 12. 

This was in my formative years before I began thinking for myself & got out from my traditional Greek parents beliefs. I wanted to go past those fears & began looking into whatever was known about the two characters therein: Satan & his darling son. 

The further I looked into it the more scared I became so I left it alone for a while. I didn't even consider it apart from giving myself the willies every couple of months when I gave both some thought. The idea as to how much fear they caused stayed with me. I didn't like it but I knew it was powerful.

As I grew older though I thought about those strong fears, especially the Antichrist. I re-watched the Omen and the sequels and thought: why would anyone want to be the reason for the destruction of the world? That made me fear the Antichrist less and made me think he was getting a bum wrap. So I began crafting a story for myself.

The whole time that I had been writing I also lived my life in low end jobs. Cook & then manager in family restaurant, comic book store clerk, sports card collectibles store clerk, busboy, waiter, illustrator, graphic artist, video/dvd graphic artist/editor. I kept returning to Mad Gods and kept putting it off because I wanted to relax when I got home. So my lax attitude got me back into writing because I thought that would be a perfect reason for somebody else not to do what he feels destined to do. 

The Antichrist doesn't follow Revelation because he likes his entertainment too much. He wanted to see the next great movie, another week's shows, the next cool film or read another book.


Someone screams, startled by the thunder and lightning around the hill on which they chose to plant these trees of pain. Rain comes down like fat tears and gives me a small relief, but does not restore my grasp of sight and sound. Time crawls by and I’m still breathing, living this misery.

“King of Jews. Why don’t you call upon your God and save us?” One of us says. Is it me?  At such a time, could I be so cruel to another who shared my pain?

“He does not deserve to be here. We have done things in our lives to deserve this place. He has done nothing.” The response is instant and I instantly feel humiliated and exulted.

It must be days that we’ve been up here; still, I don’t know how to interpret my own senses. The rain continues and my tears join it. I’m sure that I sob with relief, because I feel my strength and life finally ebbing. Endurance is overrated. I wish I were weaker and able to endure far less.

“Father, why have you forsaken me?” The voice is filled with sobbing and comes from everywhere. It brings further darkness and depression. The sky has come closer to my face and reflects the bruises and blood that now describe my body. The tears and sobs leave me, unheard amid the rain and thunder.

“Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.” Who does? Why does the voice seek this God, this treacherous Father, who allows this to be done to His son? For a few breaths, I am angry at the criminal violation, which this begged-for parent shows to all his children. Why do we look to Him for this withheld comfort and support?

My outrage continues and, in my death, it follows me to the void. In the nothing I now face, I am alone with my belief that no help shall ever be given, though it be earned a thousand times. I am on my own, to grow strong or be annihilated.

I also think that this seems oddly familiar. In my thoughts, this strange skewing of priorities is nothing new. A silent revelation envelops me and pushes all else aside.   In violent death, this always happens. I remember past lives. I remember the death in the arena, as well as when I stood proud at Thermopylae. Not much else, apart from this, is important. Not my life then, nor any lives before, or since.

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