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I had a Bible once

I had a Bible once. In fact, I attended Bible study in the dreary basement of a missionary from Korea. His name was Workhard (seriously). It was during the times where I was uncertain about my life and uncertain about where I was headed, much like many occasions before and after that time. Workhard found me sitting alone at a table in the basement of the Student Life Centre at the University of Waterloo–home of the pink ties and the stinky Comfy Lounge. I think Workhard thought I appeared to be in need of being saved and to meet our Saviour, and I suppose that was partially true. He offered me Bible study and I accepted out of curiosity. It didn’t work well though. I got through most of Genesis and lost interest. The day I told Workhard that I no longer wanted to study the Bible he told me about a rock in Australia that has some markings on it that scientists can’t explain. He took that as proof that science is wrong–I told him that scientists don’t claim to know everything. So I left Bible study. Things slowly changed, as the Martin Institute of Mind Control was born–my mind, it appeared, changed quite a bit. I met some new friends, some new acquaintances, and some new enemies. With the birth of the Institute came a time of experimentation. I was in the group that believed we could be Gods. And not too recently I found this to be true as I discovered my face on a piece of home-made toast: