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Body of Christ

Body of Christ

‘The body is a unit, though composed of many parts. In fact, God has arranged the members of the body according to His design.’

Each part of the body, with its own nature.

Can the eye become a tongue? Can the hand become a foot?

Surely not. For each part of the body has its own unique way of observing the world.

We are what we are.

Old School Wrestling is a body, but which part of this body is worthy of wearing the crown?

Sigil is the foot. He walks on, leaving footprints about the wilderness of time, no matter the consequences. As the foot walks, it tiptoes carefully through sticky situations… and then tramples everything in its path. Friend or foe, none are safe from being stepped on. Feet are great climbers, and Sigil conquered the mountain to reach this point.

But a foot cannot wear the crown. It would simply trample it to get one more footstep ahead in its quest.

Simon is the bowels. The digestive system. Putrid and filthy, a truly treacherous part of the body. Just as Simon sets about plans to steal power from anybody that possesses it, the bowels seek to control the body. Often causes the body to feel ill, in biblical times the bowel was often used to refer to one’s feelings of distress.

When in reality, the bowel exists to process waste. It is in control of nothing but excrement, much like Simon is in control of nothing but the excrement of his Jet Set Radio. While he thinks of himself as the Taskmaster, at Ring King his plans will ultimately turn to crap.

And you, Deathnote… Are the hand.

Useful when following orders, being the hand that writ the fate of death… but useless to act on its own accord. Much as you follow the word of your book without question, you heed your father without possessing any true power of the throne of Death yourself.

But without orders, the hands lie idle, and ‘idle hands are the devil’s playground.’┬áThe hand is only good to place the crown, never to wear it. Just as you remain the Prince of Death, and will never truly sit on your father’s throne as King.

I am the head.

With ears to listen and respond to my calling. I have eyes to see the path to retribution, the light that must be followed to Yahweh’s return and mouth to rebuke the unbelievers. The head has the mind to follow wise teachings, unfaltering and unwavering from what must be done.

Only the head can wear the crown. All other parts of the body are not worthy of such honour.

Each can try to be the head, but the foot can only trample its chances. The hand can only write its own downfall and the bowels can only churn like troubled waters over needless plans.

At Ring King, the head takes its rightful place.

Yahweh designed it that way. I will simply see it to fruition.

The head wears the crown.