HOLYLAND
Our Father, who art in heaven
The simple definition of EVANGELISM: Those who know, telling those who don't.
Leith Anderson
WATCH THE HOLYLAND MUSIC VIDEO/REMIX - bottom
Our Father, who art in heaven
Ambivalence
The American narrative is ensconced in a pious, sanctimonious sermon that plays and replays ad nauseam. In churches, on TV - kids singing hymns on our computer screens. The message is loud & clear. The movement makes no apologies for being superior; having rights that others don't have. Even if they break laws, molest minors or violate the constitution. It's a new world, with new priorities. What goes on behind closed doors is none of my business AND if you knew what was good for you? You would just STFU and take it like a real man. Perks dude. Credit card. Whip that bitch out, NOW. Time to party! It’s what most American voters wanted. So shall they get.
Coming to terms with the inevitable is all part of growing up. First intimidated, then initiated then informed. Invisible, invincible, inebriated & infected. OK, speaking of; my Dad accused me of being a 'bleeding heart liberal' when I was 26 so I'm still a tad wound up about that. Isolated. Years in a rural in absentia just pickled my pastry. Chopped my cherry. Shattered my shimmer. Acquiring an informed yet informal coercion conversion, observation/opinion. My hapless homily. Food sucked.
Yep. The Last supper sucked ass. The buffet was botched. I need water.
Liver & Onions
I think not. I'll pass on that thank you Father. Long silence. ‘Fine. You'll go to bed, hungry again’. Eat or go hungry. Punishment actually works if you look at it from the punisher's POV. Like Dad's take on the American Negro was entertaining to say the least. Round & round it goes; where it stops nobody knows. Looking carefully at all prescriptions before deciding which one has the fewest side effects and the best buzz. We got 4 stations on our TV (on a good day). All fuzzy. Decent sound though.
Education for 20 please Bob.
I was a skinny little runt from the age of 5 - 15. Underfed for the most part, mostly because my meal plans were anything but. At least half of what I was fed was awful and there was never enough. Excusing myself from the table and taking my dirty plate to the sink and still being hungry was a daily duty. OK let’s be fair; all the water I could drink, (because it was free and came out of the tap). Sitting at the supper table was unsettling, at best. Right. Meat was ok but liver? Serious cringe. The smell alone made me want to vomit. A typical serving that resembled almost everything Dad tried to shove down my throat as a kid needing more and more space just to breathe.
When I suggested to him that blacks in Detroit getting arrested en masse in '83 might, just might be racism? First, came the 'what the actual fuck' glare. Followed by the condescending snicker, before giving me that quiet look of disgust. Looking back at him, some fear surfacing, admitting. Thinking. Strikes me as being a tad righteous there Dad. Listening ... anger/rage - resentment. Victim card? It's all too familiar. Thought I'd be used to it by now. Dealing with the humiliation hubris since I was 5 as compensation for his cowardice. Question being … how much did I absorb?
Who could have possibly predicted that stunted emotional maturity could become so popular? Malnourished mayhem becoming mainstream? You might think that my anxiety would have faded after 20 years but nope. Patience son. Pray for absolution and all you deserve shall come to you. Oh, and …
Bend over - yer gonna like this!
Worrying is praying for what you don't want.
Ever stop to think about why those who obsess over bad shit, are always the ones drowning in bad shit? We need a new messiah is what I'm thinking. A cryptic crony to remove the curse. Like maybe a populist 'for the people' politician like right now. You'll do. Dad used to love barking out orders - always followed by the word NOW! Do this, NOW ... Do that, NOW. Reminding me again and again that he was a drill sergeant in the army when in reality I think he made that up just to impress only it wasn't impressive at all. Defence mechanisms always in play growing up - out of necessity. You can never be too prepared for everything that is going to go wrong.
Bombastic battle plans always on the table ... escape routes & fire drills. What to do in emergencies and how to get out of jams - locked in my panic room, like the apocalypse is inevitable. Being ready is essential. What's most odd is that Dad was not a religious man. He actually despised it, having been forced by his parents to go to Pentecostal Sunday church as a kid and hating it. His Dad lashed him regularly with a belt buckle so I was told. I could easily tell you that he did the same to me but never the belt, not once. The faith card didn't really kick into a serious marketing platform until Ronald Reagan welcomed the church into his Presidential campaign in 1985, proving to be just the ticket yet again in 2016 and 2024. Stay focussed. Right.
Did you know that ...
Reagan invented the term ... Make America Great Again? Roger Stone took it and re-purposed it in 2015. Today, multiple contingencies are in place in the event of a breach and most of those who once elevated our veritable commander in chief (including Stone) have been kicked to the curb or thrown under the bus. I can promise you that almost all those devoted & loyal to him now? Will be gone in a year. Sacrifice.
Survival Tidbit
The fastest way to a man's heart is through his ribcage. The only science that lives here is the science of my suffering. I send in my $30 every month to Paula White even though I'm living in a trailer park eating Kraft macaroni dinner and chicken weiners every night from food stamps. Word is they're going to stop giving me those and that's ok. I'll go without if it moves me up the line to salvation. Repentance rules the resurrection. Sacrifice.
Ok, they say Paula is worth anywhere from $5M to $30M. I'd bet double that. Doesn't matter. Did you know that she is Trump's 'spiritual advisor'? That be all I need to know. Devoted. Loyal AND she's a frikkin’ hottie lol. I mean ya, I’d tap that. Changing the channel. Where's my smokes? (cracking a window open) …
It all leaves me with a parting thought, feeling the calm release of dopamine from my hypothalamus and into my bloodstream, filling my lungs with liquid longing; brandishing my blissful blessing ... when one enters the Holyland, they become one with God. Immersed in inclusion. Saved by our supreme saviour and welcomed into heaven. Praise be …
There is retribution in our revolt.
Appeasement in our surrender.
Justice in our resolve.
it’s all musical
for Francis.
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visit my website - link below …
jimlamarche.ca
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