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CHAPTER I
TLALOC'S DIARY
The story:

We are at war, but in a war so complex and contorted that there are no real sides. Not on this planet. And talking about it is dangerous because it is madness and fantasy to espouse it in truth. Demons aren't real and have nothing to do with UFOs and H.P. Lovecraft and the Book of Genesis.

I am Tlaloc, brother of the Flying Serpent and my power is great. But I don't know if I believe this or whether it's just a phase-shift blocking maneuver to out-fox any CIA RVs. I wonder if the FBI got any domestic mind-scanners by now worth half a tinker's damn? You couldn't get anyone with reasonable ability to work for Louis. It is no surprise that Slick Billy's smug Satanic cult of a Cabinet, or at least the ones that didn't die or were killed or quit, was so out of the loop that you almost have to look at them as innocent rubes victimized by politicos operating at warp speed above their heads. And it's worse now.

TLALOC

CHAPTER III
TLALOC'S RECIPE
The ingredients:

We are at war, and it is an unkind one, the unkindest cut. The Old Man slid off the Mountain this weekend. Now you know what week it is. Dubya's always got a smirk on his face like he just snuck some doggy poop into his daddy's shoe. A recent profile of His Royal Himness revealed that he is unfamiliar with most popular television programs - has never seen an episode of Friends, for example, but he can quote every single line from every Austin Powers movie, the most ridiculous irony being his deep fondness for Dr. Evil. My mother would have referred to him as "mildly retarded." She was a brilliant clinical psychologist.

OSITO

CHAPTER V
QUETZAL-COATL
The scheme:

We are at war and this war has a bizarre tradition. Hernando Cortez was a pirate, a dropout from the University of Salamanca in Spain. At age 19 he was in Cuba, an appropriate home base for a pirate. After all, Velasquez, the Governor of the island was his personal patron. With such an official blessing he was no longer actually a pirate, but a privateer. A privateer is a pirate or a buccaneer or a rover or a corsair or a brigantine or a brigand or a thief or a murderous thief or a marauding, murderous thief, or a marauder. You get the picture.

It is good to keep livestock healthy. In the days of yore seafarers kept live animals on board to guarantee that their meat was fresh. Magellan's crews ended up eating rats and boiling the leather from their belts and shoes. They were the first sailors to circumnavigate the globe. Magellan died in battle, but the ships sailed on.

The Serpent's Brother
Andrew Michael Kannas \| The Serpents Brother \| Favorite Links Page

Excerpts from The Serpent's Brother: This page contains excerpts from the first 5 chapters of The Serpent's Brother.
ALIEN CHAPTER II TLALOC'S RANT The argument: We are at war, and this book is a bomb - not the bomb; not da bomb; but a weapon of war - and a successful one. This war is on a loop. And, as it has been well written about, we've already won. John the Divine said so. John Milton said so. Cromwell proved it on the field of battle. Richelieu proved it on the field of battle. And it's going to be repeated again. No surprise here. All I'm doing now is reiterating the same old recipe. So, if you're doing a book report - congratulations, you're done. Ta ta. And a shout out to the bodacious T's out there, if you're hangin' at JC, slippin' the geek a sweet hummer will get a plus on that letter. Reality sucks. Chauvinism will never leave. Get used to it. Satan likes 'ho meat. I am Tlaloc the Rain God and I know your weapons, and they are fearsome. We are not referring to the gee-gaws and the gadgets that you flummoxed the Iraqis with in this recent altercation. I am Tlaloc and I did leave you lo these many months. Let the trackers know that the Spring Equinox has passed weeks ago and the war that never really got a good name is sorta wrapping up right about now. So now you know where to put the astrolabe and, for all that is holy, go out and score a ream or two of aluminum foil. They can isolate duct tape and plastic. No problem. We-haa! CHAPTER IV TLALOC'S MENU The Plot: We are at war and time creeps sullenly forward. The cast of characters is everybody and his brother, a veritable phone book of feebs, dweebs and pinheads. In my version of Armageddon, someone spikes the brownies and doses the punch so that everyone is too wasted and apathetic to slaughter the universe. But the Almighty is much smarter than I, so in His version everybody dies except for the repugnant butt-kissers. They get to wear jewelry and togas while wandering in the fluffy clouds above. Virgil was right. Avoid Venereal Disease. Aristotle was right. Don't run with scissors. Plato was right. Gay sex is best kept in the closet - literally and figuratively. Benjamin Franklin was right. Out of sight, out of mind. William Shakespeare was right. That old horny bitch be ugly. I wonder what flavor the Kool-Aid guy is? He's probably cherry, 'cause who's gonna deflower a giant pitcher? Luis Tiant was a giant pitcher for the Boston Red Sox and he chewed tobacco. I love so much about baseball. And baseball movies. The Natural. Field of Dreams. The Lou Gehrig Story starring Gary Cooper. Comments? Questions? Criticisms? Click here... HOME PAGE			CHAPTER I TLALOC'S DIARY The story: We are at war, but in a war so complex and contorted that there are no real sides. Not on this planet. And talking about it is dangerous because it is madness and fantasy to espouse it in truth. Demons aren't real and have nothing to do with UFOs and H.P. Lovecraft and the Book of Genesis. I am Tlaloc, brother of the Flying Serpent and my power is great. But I don't know if I believe this or whether it's just a phase-shift blocking maneuver to out-fox any CIA RVs. I wonder if the FBI got any domestic mind-scanners by now worth half a tinker's damn? You couldn't get anyone with reasonable ability to work for Louis. It is no surprise that Slick Billy's smug Satanic cult of a Cabinet, or at least the ones that didn't die or were killed or quit, was so out of the loop that you almost have to look at them as innocent rubes victimized by politicos operating at warp speed above their heads. And it's worse now. TLALOC CHAPTER III TLALOC'S RECIPE The ingredients: We are at war, and it is an unkind one, the unkindest cut. The Old Man slid off the Mountain this weekend. Now you know what week it is. Dubya's always got a smirk on his face like he just snuck some doggy poop into his daddy's shoe. A recent profile of His Royal Himness revealed that he is unfamiliar with most popular television programs - has never seen an episode of Friends, for example, but he can quote every single line from every Austin Powers movie, the most ridiculous irony being his deep fondness for Dr. Evil. My mother would have referred to him as "mildly retarded." She was a brilliant clinical psychologist. OSITO CHAPTER V QUETZAL-COATL The scheme: We are at war and this war has a bizarre tradition. Hernando Cortez was a pirate, a dropout from the University of Salamanca in Spain. At age 19 he was in Cuba, an appropriate home base for a pirate. After all, Velasquez, the Governor of the island was his personal patron. With such an official blessing he was no longer actually a pirate, but a privateer. A privateer is a pirate or a buccaneer or a rover or a corsair or a brigantine or a brigand or a thief or a murderous thief or a marauding, murderous thief, or a marauder. You get the picture. It is good to keep livestock healthy. In the days of yore seafarers kept live animals on board to guarantee that their meat was fresh. Magellan's crews ended up eating rats and boiling the leather from their belts and shoes. They were the first sailors to circumnavigate the globe. Magellan died in battle, but the ships sailed on.