Blessed are the Cheese-makers!
You know in your bones that more is going on than we can ever understand . . .and you know it’s not ALL good.
The anti-vaxx’rs and other science-deniers are rejecting the powers of empirical evidence and inquiry for the wrong reasons. They’re happy to spurn silly theories like gravity, evolution, climate change, and the germ concept of illness, preferring to take their info from a book written a few thousand years ago when the really big thinkers thought that if they could only build a tall enough ladder they could reach the moon; that or stuff they hear from their Facebook Worship groups. Science and god aren’t incompatible; knowledge and faith-belief-idiocy are. Whether and when god decides to blow-up the universe may eventually become clear via astronomy, and who the fuck wants to know that?
Ant-God to the Rescue
Hang on little guy, here I come...
In our pool, swimming, (if you wanna call the time I spend here just floating around, paddling a bit, “swimming,”) I see an ant near me, not drowned yet, paddling around in circles with zero chance of getting out of the pool and surviving.
I scoop him up and toss him onto the deck where, as is always the case when I do this, he freezes for a moment, jerking his little head from side to side in a “what the fuck” type of motion obviously unsure what just happened because two seconds before he was as soon-to-be dead and as certain to be a goner as a guy in the middle of the ocean after his boat has sunk.
This is exactly the way I wish God treated us. He doesn’t have to grow limbs back on us like a really great magician might do before a slightly drunk Vegas audience. But even if he’d just scoop up a drowning man and drop him onto the beach somewhere once in awhile so that the guy could shake his head and go on living a bit longer, I’d like that.
I know, I know, ants aren’t men and I’m not a god.
Still… I just wish life and god and the meaning of all this shit were a bit clearer along these lines. I think this to myself as I wade across the shallow end of the pool and grab my Corona from under the chair. I take a huge sip. And as I look around, oops, there’s another ant swimming in circles. So off I go. ant-god to the rescue.
And now it dawns on me this is exactly what’s happening whether to ants or humans or sunflowers or rag weeds or cute little bunnies or ugly little rats — we are each of us our own gods paying attention and worshiping life or not.
We are all drowning men, scooping ourselves up, dropped on a beach, shaking our heads, and living a bit longer.
My friend Mafioso Ralph...
A 50 year old teenager From an eastern seaboard Minor Mafioso family Told me that if he’d Had to jump from the Burning twin towers He’d have prayed during his Free fall to the pavement below For a miracle And he stated that what he’d want And be praying for Would be For God to catch him At the last second, Just before he hit, And set him gentle and safely On the sidewalk. I got quiet Thinking about Ralph, A CPA with a cool hotrod car And a MAGA hat, A true supporter of Donald Trump, Realizing that he was quite serious about this prayer. He believed that it would maybe work, maybe And that the laws of physics and gravity Could be violated and that The power of God almighty Could save him if he prayed hard enough And, I suppose, If God was in the mood … I’m not going to say more about Ralph Or God or Trump or prayers here- I’m going to leave this as it is And let you decide for yourself What you think.
Sometimes justice arrives late, but better late than never
So this former Speaker of the House, third in line for POTUS, is getting 6 months in prison for paying “hush money” to one of his former high school wrestlers from a kazillion years ago when Mr. Speaker was the boy’s coach.
Apparently the kid got grabbed in a double-ball-tickle- full-nelson- triple-axel-hump-drop move, or some such. The crime involved here appears to be the lies told by Mr. Speaker to the F-fuckin-B-I.
Wait, let me get this straight; this powerful politician fucked around with teenaged boys when he was their coach, a lifetime ago and now he’s getting nailed for not owning up to his much-deserved victimization via extortion 30 or 40 years later?
Here’s the deal: when you’re going to do something bad, Rule #1: Be sure it’s something you can live with if/when the news of it breaks and Rule #2: Get out in front of it and own it before the feds — and/or the New York Times — show up on your doorstep to have a little chat. Of course, these rules are far easier to obey when yer old and wrinkly — Like I am today — and yer life’s about over anyway: “I didn’t inhale.” “I have a wide stance.” “What hush money?” “Jesus has already forgiven me” (Sure he has!)
Life is equal measures Ridiculous and tragic. I think I’ll slip into my pink wrestling togs and my black tutu and do a few laps around the house. I sure hope nobody rings my doorbell.
And since we’re talkin’ donars and mulla, don’t forget What Rachel Hollis Lori Loughlin Olivia Jade Reveal About Capitalism or this little gem either Prosperity Gospel and Thou.