There are people teaching tolerance—
They’re marching up the block—
I thought I ought to warn you
So you wouldn’t die of shock.
Their message of diversity,
Acceptance, and respect
Will likely reach our kids, if it’s
Allowed to spread unchecked.
We must protect the children
From equality, or worse!
I recommend you read to them
This welcome bible verse.
Our Christian moral values
Are enshrined within that book
There are people teaching tolerance…
You might not want to look.
Jesus came back from the dead tonight
(He said he had done it before)
He took to the streets in the Bible Belt
With the children in masks, door to door.
With pirates, and goblins, and heroes, and ghosts
Came the Savior, the true child of God
On the streets where the Christian majority lives
It was more than a little bit odd:
Wherever they stopped, the people would guess
(Cos that’s what the homeowner does)
Though Jesus was Jesus, and not in disguise
Not one of them knew who He was.
The Jesus they know is the one they created,
Who thinks like, and looks like, themselves
Whose stories they hear in their sermons, but not
In the bibles that sit on their shelves.
If Jesus existed, if Jesus was real,
If He died on the cross for our sins
He wouldn’t want gays to be punished for love
Or care if a Democrat wins.
He wouldn’t want lies taught to children in school;
He wouldn’t want homeless to freeze
The weakest and weariest crying for help
In a system that’s deaf to their pleas
I worry, you know, for the Christian Right—
And (of course) for the human race—
When Jesus himself goes from door to door
And no one knows his face
Hey, the power was out; I had to do something.
That’s how long the power was out. And I found out what happens if I don’t feed the dragon. People stop coming by to read!
And it’s particularly sad because Joan and Thinker have written some fantastic stuff in their comments here. I shall have to respond somehow.
But first, coffee. And a shower. As soon as the water heats up again.
When the Tea Party’s numbers are sagging
And support from within it is lagging
When you raise up your voice:
“I’m the Tea Party’s choice!”
It sounds more like complaining than bragging!
Headline: Bachmann: “I’m The Tea Party Candidate”
A fish connoisseur made paella with Mermaid;
He thought the aroma was nice.
With garnish of seaweed (his sycophants “oui-oui-ed”)
And saffron infusing the rice.
He clarified butter, and started to mutter
“It tastes like it’s really Mazola”
Then added blue cheeses: “the trick, if you please, is—
With Gorgon, you need gorgonzola!”
With minimum bluster, he gutted and trussed her;
You see, in his studies, he’d learned
That the delicate features of mermaid-like creatures,
If left unattended, get burned.
The succulent breast of (as well as the rest of)
The meal, would make proud its creator;
I was told that one bite would bring utter delight,
And I could not refuse… so I ate her.
Originally, I wrote this when I learned that there was a fatwa against eating mermaid. I shit you not. Today, I was simply reminded of the verse, because I am doing a bit of cooking, and an excellent Stilton got me thinking of blue cheeses. Besides, I can’t let Physioprof be the only one on FtB who posts about food.
They’ve scrubbed all the dirt from their website
The predictions that somehow went wrong
If a visitor didn’t know better
You’d think they’d been sane all along
They still believe Jesus is coming
They’re no longer predicting a date
They’re confused that they’re still here to wonder
But they’re putting it all down to fate
Somewhere, a lunatic’s howling
His freak-flag is proudly unfurled
But Harold has given up doomsdays
It’s the end of “the end of the world”
They used to say “Jesus is coming!”
They’d done so for fifty-odd years
“So send us your prayers and donations!”
There’s money in preying on fears
But they went to the well once too often
With a guaranteed rapture. Then two.
When the end didn’t come as predicted
Well, what’s an old con-man to do?
Somewhere, a lunatic’s howling
His banner is proudly unfurled
But Harold has given up doomsdays
It’s the end of “the end of the world”
For the Greeks, after weeks, we can say
There are reasons to party today
Which they will, even though
It’s a day to say “NO!”
On this «ΟΧΙ» day, time to say «ναι»
Headline: Ή με τους ήρωες του «ΟΧΙ» ή με τους φαύλους του «ναι σε όλα»
Today is the 71st anniversary of ΟΧΙ day–the day the Greeks refused to surrender to Mussolini. The dictator’s demands were responded to with a single word–ΟΧΙ, or “no”–and “no” has been a part of the national character ever since.
Of course, the sacrifice of those who backed up that “no” is honored mostly by lip service. Just as in the US, sacrifice isn’t what it used to be. Part of the current financial crisis, here and there, comes from being too willing to say “yes”.
The chaplains are ready to answer the call
In the guise of supporting our fitness
To breach and dismantle the church-and-state wall
And to act as a born-again witness
And the Head of the chaplains will smile and nod,
For God and for country (but mostly for God)
To protect and defend, you remember the oath,
So there’s no use in getting indignant
But I think I’ve detected a spiritual growth
And I’m worried it might be malignant
A chaplain, who shepherds the men in his squad
For God and for country (but mostly for God)
There’s no cause for worry, no need for alarm
It’s only the damn constitution
And the chaplain, who’s keeping your soul safe from harm
Is the problem, and not the solution
But they’ve been there so long it no longer seems odd
For God and for country (but mostly for God)
The problem is growing, of that there’s no doubt
And the bible does not hold the answer
The simple solution—you cut it right out
Cos that’s what you do with a cancer
It’s a cult, once you see past the shiny façade
For God and for country (but mostly for God)
Two things. Go here and read this. And even more importantly (US Citizens only), go here and sign this. As of this writing, only 376113 (update just after 9PM Eastern)87 (just after 10PM) signatures are needed. You do have to register, but it’s painless, takes only a minute or so, and damn is it a good cause.
I won’t wear a costume this JesusWeen eve—
The lord is my shepherd; I shall not deceive
This holiday’s different for folks who believe
For folks who have Christ as their savior
I won’t be a hero, cos Jesus comes first
I won’t be a villain, cos Satan’s the worst
I won’t ask for candy; the candy’s all cursed
(That’s typical godless behavior)
I’m giving out bibles to trick-or-treat kids
They’re looking for chocolates to quiet their ids
But self-satisfaction, God’s message forbids,
So candy bars surely are sinning
Though Satan is hiding, and wearing a mask,
The godly confront him and take him to task
So each trick-or-treater we simply must ask:
“Is Satan or Jesus Christ winning?”
This JesusWeen, children from all ‘round the block
Will visit our porch, ring the bell (or else knock),
And, getting a bible, will cry out in shock:
Hallelujah! Sing glory of glories!
Cos JesusWeen’s all about Jesus, and love
And gifts that are given by God up above
Cos candy these children are sick to death of…
And other such fictional stories.
See, I don’t want my prices to rise
But it’s worthless if nobody buys
As I calculate cost,
I’m admitting—I’m lost!
What’s the right rate to charge to tell lies?
Headline: This Way to the Séance
A strange story in the Wall Street Journal. Just another profile of a small business owner… in this case, though, the business is talking to the dead lying to people for money. A weekly group, Séance in the City, meets for fun, to test their psychic abilities, to mingle with one another, and to have Jesse Bravo give them a reading.
“I have a gift and I want to share that with as many people as possible without overcharging them. For two hours, it’s less than a movie ticket and popcorn,” Mr. Bravo said.
Which, of course, brings up the question in the limerick: What exactly is overcharging, when your service consists of lying to people?
In real life, he is a money manager and stock picker; he claims not to use his psychic powers to help him on the job. I believe that, of course. I also believe that if they were actually real, that’s pretty much all he’d use them for, and he wouldn’t advertise the fact for less than six figures. After all, he could make a cool million with Randi if he were really out for money. Convenient, then, that he’s so altruistic, meeting these dozen or so people for only $20 a head for the 2 hour session.
Aside from these meetings, life as a psychic can be a lonely gig. Mr. Bravo’s 88,000 Twitter followers and nearly 3,000 Facebook friends are relentless with their questions, but the friendships are one-sided.
“I get a friend invite and then I get a message with a question,” said Mr. Bravo. “I’m a human being, too. I like to chat and be friendly, and not just be used for my abilities.”
Some advice, then; if you want to make real friends, stop lying to them.