Tag Archive: Pontius Pilate

Cover of "PILATE: A Brutal Bible Tale"

Cover of PILATE: A Brutal Bible Tale

He’s the deacon of the diabolical, the clergyman of carnage, the cardinal of chaos. Bizarro-horror writer (and ordained minister) The Grim Reverend Steven Rage joins “The Authors Speak” to chat about his latest book – The Place In Between – just released through LegumeMan Books. Call in and ask the Rage a question. 9/25/2010 9:00 am (Arizona time) 12:00 noon (Eastern) 1 hr.


By  D. Gorman “Crystalline Structure Moon” – See all my reviews
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This review is from: The Place In Between (Paperback)

Reading steven rage is a little like being a mother who ran out of diapers even though you’re locked in a room with a baby who has been living on nothing but 5-alarm texas chili. sure, there are times when you want to puke, but you can’t help loving the baby anyway. yes, rage is still gruesome, sickening, twisted, gross, horrific, morose, profane, disgusting, morbid, blasphemous, shocking and repugnant. but these are not the only compliments i can bestow upon this promising new author. but we’ll get to that bit later. the 3 short stories that comprise this book are pure rage. the first and last story bring us back to that familiar setting, the harbor. these stories have all the requisite characters and elements that you would expect if you’ve read steven’s earlier work. there are vampire drug lords, addicts, whores, demons that crawl out of people’s rectums, perverted sex and all the dregs of society in the darkest of dark settings and situations. they are well crafted extensions of his earlier work, and there is even an effort to tie some of the stories together. visiting this setting again was a blast! he really did have something to add that was compelling and kept the pages turning as often as it kept your stomach turning. he even threw in a few surprises like an artificially created chimp-man and a sexy chicken or two. the first story relies a lot on the modern street venacular again, while remaining intelligent and creatively devised. the last two stories were not so dependant on modern slang, as the lead characters were not the sort of (shall we say) ‘sludge’ that would need to speak that way. this allows a more clear visage of rage’s ability to exhibit a writing prowess that is more accessible to a wider audience. the harbor stories do give rage fans a lot to be thankful for in expanding the previous stories with bizarre, twisted putridness. yet, my favorite story by far was the title story in this book. that is because rage steps away from the harbor and explores a new setting with a whole new disturbing set of circumstances. i truly believe that if rage continues to grow and expand and explore new horizons (especially in new settings), he can reach his full potential as a great writer. much as before, there is an intelligence to this dude’s work. his gift as a storyteller is being more finely honed in this work. the fact that he has spent time working in a hospital is apparent, and it comes through in his stories. i can honestly say this is my favorite of anything i have read from him thus far. he’s getting dangerously close to getting a 5-star review from me…..and that’s not easy to do when writing something that is so far removed from ‘ordinary literature’. so to sum up…..yes, this has all the disturbing, grotesque, alarming, horrible elements that you’d want to see in 3 strories by rage…it also has all the fine storytelling…..and he is growing and improving as a writer. i recommend this collection of stories, but i also recommend that you (metaphorically) stock up on diapers first. if he keeps expanding his horizons, he will be a supurb voice and visionary for our dark, backward, malevolent times…even if he remains the pessimistic, ignoble saint and demented sick ticket that we all know and love.


The Authors Speak Live: Steven Rage (All You Need To Know)
There are very few writers who can thoroughly disgust you and simultaneously stimulate you intellectually.  Steven Rage is one of those writers, and with his latest book, “The Place In Between”, he’s hit his stride.  This is his style. 

I’m honored to have Rage as our first “live” guest.  We’ve been boasting it all week – the Authors Speak is going live.  There are many reasons for this, but the biggest is we really want the authors to speak to you directly.  It’s one thing to transcribe their words for you.  It’s one thing to recommend their books.  It’s one thing to discuss the validity of reading.  But, you’d rather hear it directly from their mouths, no?

Tomorrow at 12pm (EST), The Authors Speak launches its weekly interview series.  And it’s real simple to navigate.

Step One: Follow the link http://www.blogtalkradio.com/theauthorsspeakcom/2010/09/25/the-authors-speak-the-reverend-steven-rage

Step Two: Listen on your computer or your telephone.  And, if you have a question, simply call in (323) 693-3330 and ask us.

Step Three: If you’re unable to catch it at the time, just podcast the thing and rock n’ roll…there it is on your iPod.
So now you know the deal.  You’re set.  Oh, but you want to know more about the guest.  Okay.

Steven Rage is the author of 3 books: Pilate: A Brutal Bible Tale, You Morbid Westphal, and The Place In Between.  His fiction is horror fiction, but falls into the realm of bizarro.  And, his writing is not for the squeamish.
Tomorrow we’ll be giving out a copy of Rage’s newest book (courtesy of The Authors Speak), so if you’re not familiar with him, you soon shall be.  For everyone else, here’s the Rage Sampler (seen below).

Remember, the Authors Speak because you listen…and tomorrow you shall.  Join us at 12pm.If you’ve read any of Rev.Steven Rage’s fiction before, please chime in this Saturday – 9/25 – and share your thoughts with the diabolical deacon.  Rev. Steven Rage will join us LIVE at 9am (Arizona time) 12noon (EST) on our new blog talk radio show:


It will be a fun time, to be sure.

An Eric Mays (Host of ‘The Authors Speak’) review of The Place In Between, by The Grim Reverend Steven Rage

Sick?  Absolutely.  Genius?  Perhaps.  Rage?  All the way.

We have a certain adoration for Steven Rage at the Authors Speak.  He may be one of the sickest, most twisted writers writing today, but there’s a mad brilliance to his work.  Reading one of his texts is like growing wiser while simultaneously suppressing the urge to vomit.  And, there’s the funny, too.  Rage brings the funny in a big way.

I’m no fan of shorter fiction.  I’m not sure why, and I’m not sure why I feel the need to say that everytime I review a collection.  I guess I say that because it speaks worlds when I do like a collection.  “The Place in Between” is a brilliant collection of some of Rage’s best work to date.  And, if you’re going to do short fiction, at least tie it together.  Steven Rage does this flawlessly.

On the surface, the stories in “The Place in Between” are some classic noir pieces that we’ve heard before.  If you’ve read Rage’s previous works, well, you know the man has a few tricks up his sleeves.  Rage pulls out all the stops to showcase his twisted reality in which these tales take place.  The landscape itself becomes a character of his crazy brain, thus giving these somewhat familiar tales a whole new slant.

“The Place In Between” is the title of the strongest piece in the collection.  Imagine a Fasutian tale that were written and directed by John Waters and David Lynch and you start to gather a little of where Steven Rage’s mind is.  The book feels heavily influenced by both talents – the seedy, dark, weird spliced with the scatological.

Go ahead and order it, folks.  But be warned: this book is disgusting.  You’ll need a strong stomach to handle it.  But the reward and payoff is huge.  It’s not gross for the sake of gross.  It’s dark fiction at it’s finest.

Go ahead and give The Authors Speak LIVE! a listen. Maybe even give us a call and we’ll tawk….no big whoop!
‘click’ here to get yours! Through the sheer shock of his presentation, Rage forces readers to consider the alternatives, to look at the garbage in the streets, to see what is swept into the gutters at night right before all decent people awake to see another cleaned up version of the day.


bloody needle, somebody bleeding, gothic comment tag, sexy mess, sexy bleeding vampire pics

PRINT and KINDLE Editions!



Juan went back to the same dark shoddy bar, again. And, again, he went without Mary. She stayed away to tend to Bubblegum, keeping her stoned and happy. The comely coop-chick still thought they both had a sex crush on her. They let that cluck-fuck fantasy remain intact.
“I wanna shove it up her tiny stink-hole.”
Juan needed to find Pilate, this time, for a face-to-face meeting. Nobody knew the vampire, or where he cribbed or how to contact him. It didn’t matter, however. Juan wanted no one but his Mary and him in on this plan. The Harbor may be a post-industrialized ghetto shit hole, but they knew small town rules still applied. Everybody knew everybody’s business: who was zoomin’ who. It’s just like Mayberry, but with a much higher body count. Except in Mayberry, Andy and Barney wouldn’t let you get the skin flayed off your body while fucking a dead dog for a 5K NewRupee auto-deduct.   

Fuckin’ squares!”
They could tell no one; trust no one. One word of what they were planning and niggas might kill them simply because they hadn’t thought of approaching the vampire Plata dealer first.
Once again, Juan made his way through the drunk and fucked-up bar crowd. He was nervous as all hell. He’d been drinking more than he should, smoking super-strong ghetto weed constantly. Finally, after almost two weeks of this nerve-wracking shit, Mary pleasantly surprised him with a handful of muscle relaxing pills which he doled out to himself; one at a time. It helped a great deal as he trolled the same sleezy, sticky, loser filled bar, night after fucking night, waiting for Pilate. He was worried the blood-drinker wouldn’t show up and even more nervous that he might.
Juan did a perfunctory head check of the patrons, seeing no Pilate around, had to pee. With some growing dismay, he pushed back, deep into the bar, toward the back hallways, stairs and the toilets.
Juan split the curtains of human skin, replete with freckle, scar and mole stains, and pierces the confines of That. He entered the first hallway. Juan took the stairway down, following the signs to the bathrooms. Humans and Halflings alike were engaged in all manners of drug consumption and sexual congress. A young girl was tugging on folks, pleading with them all for the return of her hymen. Juan just shook his head. How the fuck should he knows where her freshness seal is? Shit.    

KINDLE Version!

Juan stepped down about six more feet before he came to the first body. The male was long dead, judging by the smell. But that didn’t give the old woman with a bald, spotted scalp the right to straddle his below the knee leg amputation. She periodically coughed up mucous from her blow hole onto her hand. The old woman used it to further lubricate the dead fuck’s stitched, blunted stump-cock. As Juan carefully and quietly passed her by, he noticed she was vaguely see-through.
“We gotta go through Hell’s Own asshole, just to take a piss?”
Ignoring Morbid patter; –“Hello?”– Juan kept working his way down in to the dark red smoke, until he finally reached the landing. There he saw a man with his hands secure-tied behind him. A taut, tight rope of aborted fetuses pulled up the man’s wrists. The babies were secured to each other by their own long, convoluted umbilical cords. A sulfur and sugar smelling pit-demon was feeding the rope of abortions through a dog skull pulley. The man’s mouth was buried on a firebrand. The acrid smoke curled from his burning mouth. The demon stared hard at Juan whilst he pulled on the rope. He dislocated the man’s shoulders and kept pulling. The man never made a sound. Only his tears bore witness to his True Pain.
“Can I go to school here? It looks like they got some Level 10 pain downtown, Bubbie!”
The restroom was filthy and crowded thick with men pissing. Trannies were sucking dick, their johns holding cash above their bobbing head as a promise. Drugs were being snorted, deals going down. Some nigga was desperate enough to tie his shit off in this horrid crapper in one of the door-less stalls, flicking up a vein, trying to feel for a bump to target his needle.
Juan went into one of these stalls. Some passed out fuck, pockets having already been turned out, slumped over to the side, head planted into the feces smeared wall. He considered trying to wake him or dragging him off the seat. Instead, it was most expedient to simply pull out his pecker and piss on the motherfucker. He wouldn’t care.
Juan was just shaking it and zipping up when he sensed someone. He looked up and right into the face of the old man with the big mass of dreadlocks again. The same polished slummin’ dude that was trying to holler at their Bubblegum. He smiled cruelly at Juan. His jumpy nerves made him cringe.
“You sure you want this, dear fellow?” asked mister fancy dreads.
“Want what?” Juan retorted, confused. The old guy is human, not a vampire, not a demon. That means dreadlocks teleported himself here. Other than the Indian Army, Juan had never meant anyone who could afford teleporting. He figured if someone teleports themselves into this shithole, Juan had better pay attention to what dreads was saying. At least dreads didn’t have to go back up through all that shit to get to the bar again. Juan would.   

"After God deserted us, the doomed and damned crawled up from the Great Pit to live and breed with us."

 “Are you sure you want to meet the blood drinker?” he asked Juan.
“What’s it to you?” Juan wanted to know, getting wide with the cunt out of a deep-seeded need to not kowtow. It was ingrained and had gotten Juan into trouble many times.
“Don’t get smart with me, young man,” he admonished. “I am The Good Doctor,” he began. “I am Pilate’s sponsor and protector. You need to be sure of what you wish for.”
“Why’s that?” Juan asked, a bit more politely.
“Because it may just come true,” The Good Doctor stated. And then he winked out.
Just then a cold hand dropped solidly on to Juan’s shoulder from behind. It was strong. The talons growing out of the split fingertips dimpled Juan’s coat, punctured the cloth, and pressed into his flesh. Juan was surprised at how much it hurt. He sucked it up though and stood tall.
“When you wish upon a star…”
“You got balls hunting me,” the Nocturne told him. Pilate squeezed a little more and made Juan hurt a lot. “But do you have the heart?”
“Makes no nervermind who you be…”
“I’m not after you, we mean you no harm.”
“What do you want then?” 
“We wanted to meet you,” Juan told him.
“You and the girl you were with?”
“That’s right. I was hoping to speak with you.”
“And you are?” the vampire asked with a bit more pressure. It was getting bad, the pain, but Juan knew a test when he felt one. Juan told him their names and intentions. “Services?” he asked, “What services?”
“Whatever you need, you know, help,” said Juan, arm going numb, fingertips tingling unpleasantly.
“You two want to help me sell drugs?”
“Yes, exactly,” Juan replied
“And what, exactly,” Pilate mockingly replied, “makes you think I won’t kill your uninvited ass where you stand?”
“Because we would not dare to seek you out empty handed, Sire,” Juan told him.
“Stop the ass-licking sire shit, I don’t like it,” Pilate warned, “And it will not help to keep you, or your Mary alive.”   
“What shall we call you then?”
“Nothing yet,” he said. “What do you have for me?”
“We have an offering.”
“Offering? What kind of offering?”
“Blood,” Juan stated,” “A continuous stream of it.”
The Nocturne smiled then. “Yes,” he replied, “That might do.”
“I can take you to Mary, where she is being kept for you. And then we can bring her to where you stay.”
“And this token of your esteem is in hopes that you and Mary can work for me, with me? Is that right?”
“Yes, exactly,” Juan agreed. “We can be of great value and help. We can assist and protect you.”    
“What do you hope to gain and I expect the truth from you,” Pilate advised with one more, tiny squeeze, “Your life, where you stand, depends on it.”
Juan did not have to think, Mary and his motivations had never changed. “We want in,” he said simply, “And you are the way.”
“The Truth shall set you free.”
The vampire was silent as he removed his painfully frigid grip from Juan’s shoulder, blood seeping now from the talon punctures. Juan could feel him moving close to whisper in his ear.
“Well now, seeing as you two now work for me,” the vampire said, “I guess you should call me Pilate.”
We’re in, thought Juan.
We are!


Where to Turn When You Want to Make your Blood Boil and your chest Heave ...

Three cuts of bizarre hardcore horror from the macabre mind of the grim Reverend Rage. Three sordid tales of demons, revenge, botched suicide, organic narcotics, torture, halflings, freaks, vampires and a post apocalyptic society coming apart at its seams. Three trips to the dark side that'll leave you reeling... yet unable to look away.



Coming soon ...

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