The Antisocial Manifesto: A Novel Volume 1

By Bill Mehalus

The author of an expansive memoir, The Antisocial Manifesto, wants the world to know all about him, and yet he chooses to remain anonymous—which paradoxically frees him to speak personally about his experience with mental illness. Part radical philosophy, part psychological
excavation, the book is a collection of six volumes that documents the author’s life from before birth to his midlife diagnosis with antisocial personality disorder, a mental health condition characterized by a persistent pattern of manipulating, exploiting, or violating the rights of others.

In The Antisocial Manifesto, readers find many familiar elements of memoir—childhood trauma, troubled teen years, and some serious mistakes in early adulthood—but, in the author’s case, these experiences escalate into out-of-control behavior that lasts well into midlife.
Symptoms of antisocial personality disorder include criminal behavior, drug abuse, and aggression. The author experiences all of these and displays a lack of guilt or remorse, which is also a common feature of this difficult-to-treat disorder. Violent episodes, such as when he runs over a person with his car, are reported but not necessarily regretted, again demonstrating the
validity of the author’s diagnosis.

At turns academic, witty, angry, and profane, the author shares not only the details of a violence-filled childhood, but also his innermost thoughts. His detached perspective may be unsettling to readers at times, but this look into his mind helps to explain the rough road he has traveled. While illuminating, such details can also be overdone, and the author’s extended examinations of his many ideas can become overwhelming.

Context for the autobiographical details is provided at the head of each chapter, where the author has collected news headlines from the year under consideration along with a provocative tally of human population growth. Also unnerving are the author’s photographs, which run the expected time line from his own baby pictures to those of his children. These, however, are not Kodak moments. In a compelling illustration of his psychological detachment, the author has blacked out his own eyes in every picture.

Intrepid readers will venture beyond the biographical explorations and into philosophical arguments against religion and in favor of science, all supported by complex, logical arguments. The author provides plentiful documentation for his overarching “anti-theist” position and demonstrates his intelligence, knowledge, and persuasive powers with each new argument—for
those willing to follow every tangent and overlook the occasional typographical error.

The intriguing question posed by this book is whether the author has been appropriately labeled with a mental illness when, in fact, he is really a radically creative thinker who chooses to go against the grain of society’s moral codes. There is a good case made for both explanations, which is what keeps The Antisocial Manifesto interesting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bill Mehalus
• Release date: Feb 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301573912

Bill Mehalus

I began this book in 2005 following legal issues, which directly influenced my current position in life. Consequently, I began to think, "Who are these people to judge me?" After all, the legal system is composed of a "Board of Directors" (judges and magistrates) established by voters within a community who have common standards of living for which they want upheld. These standards of living are founded upon both civil and moral codes from which they find comfort for themselves and their daily lives. Accordingly, these codes were passed down and modified from generation to generation, while always remaining deeply rooted in some fictitious higher being which they called "God;" i.e. commandments/law. However, their standards, civil and moral, are not my own. So I will attack it! I was once a Marine, a biology student, a medical student, a criminal, a computer science student, a husband, a father of two children, then a divorcee and the father of two dead children. Now, I'm just a normal guy. I have no certifications, awards, titles, etc. Typically, I'm not even called Mister. I don't have a career, because I find it very difficult to keep a job. My longest job was the Marine Corps and that's only because I couldn't leave when I wanted to. Currently, my life revolves around my dogs as I have so much to learn from them. They have no shame and neither do I (for the most part). And this is the core of my problems. With that said, perhaps we'll cross paths one day as I ring up your movies or groceries, or perhaps, ask you for directions, but you'll never know just who you're talking to. You'll just initially think, "What a nice guy." However, really, I am Syphilis, the Great Masquerader!....or perhaps, I'm merely a pile of dog shit in the high grass.....I live happily, peacefully, unnoticed, untouched, without judgment...because I am unnoticed, untouched and quietly minding my own business. I have no intentions but to live out my life in the high grass, snoozing in the semi-shaded sun, providing a little nitrogen for the grass that has provided me with a soft bed. I didn't ask to be here, but this is where I was dropped. I am the product of your Best Friend or someone else's. Then you came along and stepped on me. As a result, I oozed between your toes or the tread of your shoe. Only then did you know me and call me by my name, "SHIT!" The moral: you stepped on me and I responded! Religious buffoons, I am talking to you! You wanted an 'End of Days'? You wanted a Monster? You got it! This is the Bible of the New Era...a book written for Generations X, Y and Z. We are Modern Religion!

Book preview

The Antisocial Manifesto:

A Bipolar Perspective on Dissent from Society

A Novel

Volume 1

Bill Mehalus

Copyright © 2013 by Bill Mehalus

Smashwords Edition

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I hope you enjoy this book. Please visit Smashwords.com to purchase Antisocial Manifesto, Volume 2.

CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Endnote

Special Thanks:

To my ex-wife. To my most loyal dog, Max. To my other dogs: Sigmund Siggy, Nero, and Tutter. To my family & fiends, and to the good people of Taiwan

Thanks:

To Galileo and your character, Simplicio who demonstrated the ignorance of the Faith. To Thomas Paine for suffering incarceration by speaking out against organized religion. To America’s Founding Fathers: John Coles, George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Ethan Allen, Thomas Jefferson and James Madison for your adamant disapproval of the incorporation of Jesus into the U.S. Constitution. To Friedrich Nietzsche for your blatant attacks upon the Church. To Richard Dawkins for all your witty quips against religion in your books and your outright attack in The God Delusion. To Sam Harris for your caustic approach towards the religious minded, to Robin Morgan for exploration of the U.S. Constitution and creating Fighting Words in defense. To Dan Brown for your piece of faction that raised so much hell. To Dr. Jack Kessler for actively combating the Monotheists in pursuit of stem cell research. To Korn for the wild fury and energy in your music. Finally, to Dr. Jacob Jack Kevorkian, you are a martyr for the cause of modern humanity.

Now, if you all will allow me among you, I’ll gladly bring man’s first weapon and tool to the party with a desire to focus it upon my religious enemies: I am Prometheus and I bring the gift of fire!

INTRODUCTION

The Antisocial Manifesto: A Novel is the modern day perspective of a prophet. Much like the minions of the Old Testament-God (Abraham, Moses, Jesus, and Muhammad), The Son is the author/ biographer of the anti-god, the anti-prophet, the Antitheist (the Adversary). The account herein is true and the mission of the Antitheist is very real. As documented herein, the apparent delusions of the Antitheist are no different than the prophets that came before him; however, they are polar opposites. His gradual, incessant, and progressive attacks upon the Monotheist’s are unprecedented. He has no time for the lazy and cowardly Atheist. According to The Son, they are as disposable as the Believers. And he will stop at nothing until his mission is accomplished!

My mission is as follows: I intend to dismantle over 6,000 years of organized human ignorance….or at least, insult it to the best of my abilities. This is an inflammatory book designed to tease out that frothing, raving, hypocritical, hateful God-fearing animal which hides behind a peaceful, loving, tolerant and forgiving façade. I do this intentionally so that he may fall short of the glory of his ridiculous god and directly upon his face. I do this so that he may behave adversely in the name of his god and therefore, use his god’s name in vain, and consequently, fulfill the blatant hypocrisy of his faith. I do this because I am the embodiment of the teachings of your faith. I am Hate and Intolerance just like you! I intend to divide in order to unite!

I am Syphilis, the Great Masquerader!….or perhaps, I’m merely a pile of dog shit in the high grass…..I live happily, peacefully, unnoticed, untouched, without judgment…because I am unnoticed, untouched and quietly minding my own business. I have no intentions but to live out my life in the high grass, snoozing in the semi-shaded sun, providing a little nitrogen for the grass that has provided me with a soft bed. I didn’t ask to be here, but this is where I was dropped. I am the product of your Best Friend or someone else’s. Then you came along and stepped on me. As a result, I oozed between your toes or the tread of your shoe. Only then did you know me and call me by my name, SHIT! The moral: you stepped on me and I responded! Religious buffoons, I am talking to you! You wanted an ‘End of Days’? You wanted a Monster? You got it! This is the Bible of the New Era…a book written for Generations X, Y and Z. We are Modern Religion!

This book is dedicated to that which is called God. May this war finally begin so that I may take from it what is rightfully mine! I am no Atheist, because I see no reason to argue God’s existence or non-existence. I am no Communist because I believe in the common good for all humankind. In this modern era of understanding, gods are highly unlikely and not worth argument. Therefore, I am an Anti-theist and this is a book about destroying the empire that has spawned from the cornucopia of ancient ideals! This book is dedicated to the living, breathing human beings who harbor mysticism. The wolf is upon your doorstep. Jews, Christians, Muslims…beware. I’m coming for you! I propose the greatest holocaust for you all!

This book is an unconventional fictional autobiographical rant on the satire of anti-life and self-alienation in America. And contained within this book is a semi-conscious collection of letters, words, oxymoronic phrases, misinterpretations, ideologies, philosophies, theories, facts, lies and laws.

All I want in life is to be happy.

-Korn

CHAPTER 0-1

(My Birth – 1974: Year of the tiger)

SUBJ LOCATION: HOUSTON, TX.

UNRELATED EVENTS: DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS RELEASED, PATRICIA HEARST KIDNAPPED, SOCCER STAMPEDE IN CAIRO-49 DEAD, WATERGATE TAPES RELEASED, BRADY BUNCH IS CANCELLED, MARINER 10 APPROACES MERCURY, OUTBREAK OF TORNADOES HIT 13 U.S. STATES-315 DEAD, BOMB EXPLODES IN HOUSE OF PARLIAMENT, ASSASINATION OF THE MOTHER OF MLK JR, RICHARD NIXON ANNOUNCES RESIGNATION, DEFEO MURDERS FAMILY IN AMITYVILLE HOUSE, LUCYIS DISCOVERED, OPEC RAISES PRICE OF CRUDE OIL BY 10%, COLOR TV INTRODUCED IN AUSTRALIA, OPENING OF ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW, FALL OF SAIGON, JIMMY HOFFA DECLARED MISSING, DAM BREAKS IN CHINA-200,000 DEAD, SQEAKY FROMME ATTEMPTS TO ASSASSINATE GERALD FORD, GERALD FORD SURVIVES SECOND ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT, SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE IS AIRED, SPAIN ABANDONS WESTERN SAHARA, TERM MICROSOFT IS FIRST USED BY BILL GATES, WORLD POPULATION REACHES 4,068,109,000. STOP.

"A people content with the thoughts made for them by the priests of a church will be content with Royalty by Divine Right, -the Church and the Throne mutually sustaining each other."

-Albert Pike, Morals and Dogma, 1809-1891

I can’t say I remember too much regarding the entirety of the 40 weeks post conception, nor can I regarding the following 18 months post-partum, which encompassed the first year-and-some-change of my life. So as you can imagine, I don’t remember any of these-Where were you when this happened- moments listed above. In fact, I can’t remember anything; not so much as a scent, sound, image, or sensation of any sort. With that said, ask yourself the same question. What is your earliest memory? That is to say, what was the age in which your first sensation occurred and was later committed to long-term memory? What was the memory? It doesn’t have to make any sense. It could have been as simple as any sensorial blurp in time that, now in retrospect, appears completely disconnected from all, if any, surrounding memories. It could be a memory of sitting in a movie theatre with your parents watching the debut of Star Wars or Tootsie, but you having no real recollection of the plot or the actor’s facial characteristics. It could be your first bloody nose, broken arm or leg. It was just data. And while all sequences of events do not perfectly connect, the only associated memory was somehow, without sensible explanation; for example, falling from your dad’s shoulders, laughing at you uncle’s silly faces, or watching your grandpa fish.

Some may believe, the more tragic the memory the more permanent. I disagree. I have witnessed a few, yet each memory, as a memory in and of itself, is stored for content, and not for the subjective and existential values which I place upon it; for example, watching a grown man tumble from a moving vehicle head first, followed by the auditory flop of his body hitting the pavement, running back to his motionless body, examining his wounds, and watching the blood gradually appear in all the areas of road skid along his broken legs, torso, and face. This memory induced a more traumatic response in others than it did in me.

I was indifferent whereas others were crying or in a state of shock. Therefore, although I have patches of indifferent memory, others have a more detailed and consecutive account of the event with subsequent allied sensorial memories. That is, not only do they have an accurate play-by-play of the event, they also have distinct scent, visual, and/or auditory memories associated with the event that resulted in their own shock, self-induced mental trauma, and suffering. Regardless, memory is data. Data itself, for itself, is objective and free of our individual and subjective value placed upon it; e.g. good, evil, or what is painful to you may be relatively painless to me. Regardless, this objective data is stored within the neurons of the cortex. And depending how much value one places upon a particular memory, to include how often these memories are induced into replay of the event, will subsequently determine how many additional axons are utilized to recruit even more neurons for storing a greater quantity of that memory, thus contributing to more obsessive thought and significance to the event.

Let us consider the birthing process. The level of physical trauma experienced therein, for both mother and child, when squeezing and shifting the child’s cranial bones and rib cage as s/he passes through the canal, is a painful event for both. [Note to Self: Are our senses flooded by incoming data which contains a force that drives itself into a sensorial being or does the sensorial being actively and/or passively abstract data from the world around it?] But, even in the midst of the trauma of childbirth, does the newborn remember it? Do you remember yours?

When I was a few months old, my mother had a strange encounter, although I remember nothing of it. While sitting on a bench outside JC Penny with me on her lap, wrapped in my swaddling clothes waiting for transportation, a transient, who my mother refers to as a gypsy, approached, grabbed me by the head, starred into my eyes, then into my mother’s and exclaimed with a Germanic, or alcohol induced, accent, Scientist! Who was this Angel, this Prophet, this Soothsayer, or Drunk?

In summary of my first year as a worm, I have no summary as I have no memories during this time, nor do I have memories from the womb; not even a single sensation of touch or smell. And although I have seen several pictures of myself during my infancy, there is simply no recollection. It is as if I was the equivalent of a functionless sponge as I absorbed nothing of conscious value or memorable keepsake. I was the unconscious and living dead! And outside of parental love, the street market value for my body parts or as a suture dummy for a medical student’s practice, my value was null. In fact, by nature’s law, I was nothing more than a parasite to my mother and the community. I had nothing to offer, but needed everything in return. However, I could provide one good meal for the coyotes! One delicious meal! "AAhhhhoooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!"

CHAPTER 2

(1976)

SUBJ LOCATION: HOUSTON, TX.

UNRELATED EVENTS: UN COUNCIL ADMITS PLO, EARTHQUAKE IN GUATEMALA AND HONDURAS-22,000 DEAD, APPLE COMPUTER COMPANY IS FORMED, POPULATION CONTROL INTRODUCED IN INDIA, US BICENTENNIAL CELEBRATED, JIMMY CARTER NOMINATED FOR PRESIDENT, VIKING I LANDS ON MARS, EARTHQUAKE IN CHINA-242,769 DEAD, SON OF SAM EMERGES, FACE ON MARS RELEASED BY NASA, LEGIONNAIR’S DISEASE OUTBREAK OCCURS IN PHILIDELPHIA, BIRTH OF PUNK ROCK, IBM RELEASES LASER PRINTER, RELEASE OF THE SONG REMAINS THE SAME by LED ZEPPELIN, POPULATION REACHES 4,159,100,000. STOP

"A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on."

-Sir Winston Churchill, 1874-1965

My lungs stopped growing! And so did yours unless you were a premature baby and needed steroid injections in your first month of life in order to develop your lungs to survive. So as you could imagine, by self-evident implication, you were not meant to live. But it was merely by way of Man’s god-like intervention that you survived.

My Head/Body ratio continued decreasing. In short, I grew into my noggin and my anterior fontanels were almost closed. But yet, still no memories. Maybe they were leaking out of the fontanels all this time? Or maybe there was still some form of continuous neurological pruning going on?

My natural flora was still developing as well was my complimentary immune system. This was Pseudo-Newtonian Law at work insofar as every bacterial action against the body was countered by a reaction by the immune system. Although not necessarily equal and opposite, it truly was a version of cause and effect as I crawled around the ground, putting my fingers into everything from the ground to my ass and/or someone else’s ass and finally back into my mouth. There was a lot of flora trading in the hand-ass-mouth market for 2 year olds. It’s big business. The oil trade dulls in comparison.

And although I personally don’t remember this either, my father recalls one of my first devious episodes. While posing on my elbows on the edge of a hotel pool, my dad said, Okay now hold on, don’t let go, as he backed up for this picture which still exist somewhere in a box of old photos. After snapping my image and lowering the camera, he claimed, A new and mischievous grin covered my face. Don’t let go? he said. Why not? What would happen if I did? And with a mighty push, I launched myself into the depths of the pool. Frantically, my dad jumped in after me and once I surfaced, I only laughed.

Regardless, my mind was still a dripping sponge. Life sure was interesting then, although during this era, I recall none of these events that changed history in a chaotic butterfly effect. In my recollection, they had no apparent affect upon me although they did all the same and without my permission. However, in the utilitarian world, I still remained useless, so maybe I didn’t deserve a choice. And relative to biological utilitarian standards I remained a parasite upon my mother, i.e. attached to the nipple, metaphorically speaking, of course. I think. And as far as nature and the surrounding community of coyotes were concerned, I think I graduated into veal!

CHAPTER 3

(1977)

SUBJ LOCATION: HOUSTON, TX.

UNRELATED EVENTS: SNOW FALLS IN MIAMI, FL, ARMED HANAFI MUSLIMS TAKE OVER THREE BUILDINGS IN WASHINGTON, D.C., SARA DYLAN DIVORCES BOB DYLAN, SCIENTISTS IDENTIFY BACTERIA RESPONSIBLE FOR LEGIONNAIRE’S DISEASE, THE CLASH DEBUTS IN UK, DEBUT OF STAR WARS EPISODE IV, AJ FOYT WINS 4TH INDI 500, DEBUT OF APPLE II COMPUTERS, SPAIN HAS FIRST DEMOCRATIC ELECTIONS IN 41 YEARS, ROY SULLIVAN IS STRUCK BY LIGHTNING FOR THE 7TH TIME, 200,000 HOMOSEXUALS MARCH THROUGH SAN FRANCISCO, 25-HOUR BLACKOUT IN NEW YORK CITY, DENG XIAOPING IS RESTORED TO POWER, FIRST OIL THROUGH TRANS-ALASKA PIPELINE REACHES VALDEZ, SON OF SAM CAPTURED, TSUNAMI IN INDONESIA, LAST GUILLOTINE EXECUTION IN FRANCE, LAST REPORT OF SMALLPOX FOUND IN SOMALIA, THREE MEMBERS FROM LYNARD SKYNARD KILLED IN PLANE CRASH, FIRST ARAB DIPLOMAT TO VISIT ISREAL, POPULATION REACHES 4,231,400,000. STOP.

"Each problem that I solved became a rule which served afterwards to solve other problems."

-Rene Descartes, 1596-1650

I still can’t recall any personal events in my life as of yet and I certainly don’t remember any of the above events occurring around the world. But as snow fell in Miami, as the Muslims terrorized D.C., as Sara Dylan signed divorce papers, as scientists stained, scrutinized, and guessed, as The Clash screamed, as Luke Skywalker blew up the Death Star, as AJ crossed the finish line, first, once again, as the first Apple II booted up, as Sullivan shit his pants the seventh time, as the ostracized homosexuals marched through the streets, as a city fucked during a 25- hour blackout, as a dictator resumed power, as oil ran like blood through arteries across Alaska, as a madman lost his freedom, as a wave sent thousands swimming, as France cut heads, as the last bit of the smallpox was wiped from the Earth, as a great southern rock group died, and as an ass of a man visited the vain and self-righteous, the world waited patiently for my connection, understanding, and experience of the world around me. Or so I’d like to believe. But my delusions were yet to come. So the coyotes sat drooling, the sponge sat leaking, time continued racing