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the candlelight, and clouds of smoke from a thousand burning
incense sticks swirled aloft to the center of the cupola. A group
of drag queens stood in the vestibule giving each other head in
an orgy of mmm's and ahhh's and being looked at by a small band
of teenyboppers who were turning red in a flurry of giggles. Some
Frisco Hells Angels were in the back pews being entertained by a
beautiful woman dressed in a Carmelite nun's habit who kept
shouting for "More! More!" and they were giving it to
her. A black transvestite was on his knees screaming in
contrition for his sins, as he was lashed with a whip by a
grinning toothless albino. An old, white-haired, bearded man
announced he was god and loudly accused the overflow congregation
of having taken his name in vain. "You did!" "You
did!" he said, again and again. Some youngsters felt one
another's recent pubescence, pantsying in the balcony, while a
few naked bodies raced up and down the aisles, pedaling bicycles.
Two hookers walked in off the street with a horny john and gave
him some behind a statue of Christ with blood all over the front
of it from a dude who had just got his head cracked during a
scuffle.
It was like the set of an incredible Fellini wet-dream, and it
went on and on with the sights and sounds interlacing into
surreal harmony, and everyone moving, watching, seeing it all,
and no one afraid, but laughing joyfully, happy, and now and then
a scream followed by a hushed silence with everything still for a
moment until the person who screamed would laugh and give away
the joke, and it would all get back to normal again with the
music wailing, moaning for a lost soul, loud like tears, as the
faces bobbed up and down in a sensual parade of assumed freedom
taken, making it all one big happy prickly pussy crab-lice moment
of eternity.
The press got wind of the goings-on at the Invisible Circus,
of course, and showed up with photographers and television news
cameramen, but no one would talk with them and they just hung
around bug-eyed, ogling the activity with their mouths gaping.
The cops also came with several fire marshals who brought court
orders that ordered the building vacated immediately because of
an assortment of violated regulations which presented fire
dangers, such as the mountain of plastic in the basement.
Needless to say, the officials of Glide Church, who had been
hovering on the brink of cardiac arrest all night, were relieved
by the court orders which were announced throughout the building
over the PA system and in bulletins handed out by the John
Dillinger Computer Service around 4 or 5 A.M. that Saturday
morning. [end page 285]
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