Praise the Lard to High Heaven
I had to get up early this morning; my g-damn shower is leaking and, of course, my landlord is too busy building $2000-a-month apartments out of these once-soiled rooms in this creepy, rat- and mice-filled, dump of an old hotel to repair the shower of an old tenant who's only paying piss-in-a-bucket compared to 2 grand a month. I can wait; so far I've waited 5 days; without a shower. Can you imagine the furor I would cause were I paying $2000 a month? Can you imagine how quick this pie-eyed landlord would be fixing my shower and kissing my ass at the same time were I one of those misty-eyed dopey Baby Boomer worthless kids who flock to this building to rent these renovated hell-holes. Surely the spirits of the thousands of wretches who have lived and died in this building for 156 years will haunt these money's-no-object fools into bedlam, though I know nothing like that will happen. I don't believe in a spirit. If there's a G-O-D, then he or she is of your own personal making; God is a reflection of your own hatred of yourself.
So I got up at 6 am to make sure my leaking shower hadn't spritzed out and flooded my bathroom floor. It hadn't. So I came back to bed but couldn't go back to sleep, so I flipped on the teevee. I had the dial set to one of the schlock channels and I'll be damn, I'd forgotten all about the little pest, there was one of my favorite trick-bag pastors, the Reverend Benny. He's known on legal documents as Benny Hinn, a true weirdo joker from Toronto, Canada, who at one time claimed he was Israeli though any fool can see he's Indian as hell--the Bombay type and not the Native American type.
This morning Benny was in Israel, he calls it the Holy Land, doing a talk show format on a bluff overlooking the Dead Sea and he was conversing with an old dude who looked like the late John Huston who was an expert on biblical prophecy. Of course, they were talking about the Second Coming, Jesus's coming back to earth after all Holy Hell has been set loose on the Plains of Armageddon with blood flowing up to the bellies of the horses--yes, Armageddon will be fought on horses. So sayeth the soothsayer. But what really blew my mind was when John Huston's double suddenly said, "Yes, Reverend Benny, I do believe these prophecies have all been fulfilled, like I say in my book there, Brother Benny, the one you are giving the folks for a $35 offering, plus shipping and handling--and we take all the credit cards, too, folks, Praise the Lard, and yes, Brother Benny, like I say in my book, all the signs are pointing toward the Russians and their allies coming out of the east to attack Israel...." Whoa, Nellie. What's this fool bellowing on this nationally broadcast teevee show, Russia is going to attack Israel? Why does Russia want to attack Israel? "...and, Brother Benny, who will come to Israel's defense? Well, Praise the Lard, it will be the three Young Lions, Reverend Benny...." Benny is shivering and raising his arms up a bit and whispering "Praise the Lard" all during this old crab's chomping at the madman's bit. "...and Benny, one of those Young Lions will be, yes, yes, yes, Brother Benny, Praise the Lard, the United States of Amurika. Yes, Praise the Lard, everything is according to God's Holy Plan, so, yes, Benny I believe I can almost say the Lard is coming any f-ing day now...Praise the Lard."
So there you go, folks. Look out. We're going to war against Russia and its allies, whoever they are. The reason these nut cases believe Russia is in the arms of the Devil and will "come against" Israel to thus cause the Battle of Armageddon is because old hallucinating nutcase, Saint John, the "beloved" disciple of Jesus himself, fled to Antioch, then under Greek control. The Greeks at Antioch exiled the beloved John to the wild Isle of Patmos in the Mediterrean. While out there, and in the midst of some super hallucinatory moments, John wrote the Book of Revelations (The Book of the Seven Seals) (I suppose the Greeks felt sorry for this crazy Jewish guy and provided him with plenty of paper and quills during his stay on Patmos). It's in that truly insane piece of writing that this crazed old Jewish friend of Jesus said that a Great Bear would come out of the east to "go against" Israel and that Israel would be defended by three young lions, one of which the US Christians interpret as being the US (I wonder if the Korean Christians who don't speak English know that one of those three young lions is the US?--Hell, they believe Reverend Moon is Jesus, so they'll believe any damn thing you tell them, like L. Ron Hubbard said as he writing his best science fiction ever). Holy Creepy Cripes. A hell of a lot of people believe this shit. Oh my head feels like it's splitting in two. I feel like yowling!
A little further jab at Reverend Benny. Benny's thing when he's in full swing, is a trick he calls "knocking people down with the force of the Holy Spirit," which is where Benny suddenly gets filled with the spirit, see, and suddenly he just shoots his left arm out, points a finger at your forehead and wham, you fall back into the arms of one of Benny's helpers, slammed out of your gourd by the Holy Spirit himself, cause when the helper lets you go you're supposed to buck and kick and moan Praise the Lard over and over and then Benny goes, "That's enough, pick her up," blah-blah-blah, and the show goes on until Benny comes on begging for money and bragging about what exotic or otherwise major city he'll be entertaining in in the coming months.
The Holy Ghost, according to the Christians, is a big-time ethereal-type ghost who somehow got himself (I assume all these fabulous creatures are male) elected to a part of the Holy Godhead, the Trinity, consisting of Big Daddy, Jesus His Only Son, and this Holy Ghost dude. Even though the Holy Ghost (or Spirit/Santo Esprito) is artistically visualized as a dove, when Benny's Holy Ghost hits your ass, you go down. Benny's Holy Ghost hits you right between your eyes as though its an eagle and damn sure not a dove. I agree you might scat back a bit if a dove was coming straight at you, but if an eagle was coming at you, hell yes you would hit the deck and roll. You roll, by the way, because an eagle's concentration is in his/her claws just before contact with the prey, so you roll at just the right moment and miss those claws and that means he/she has to gain altitude and make another circle to set up another attack at you--see what you learn on The Daily Growler? Besides who amongst us can verify whether I'm right or not? Let's have a comment from any blogger or normal person who's ever been attacked by an eagle; or a dove, too, for that matter. I'm empirically interested in whether a dove's attack is vicious or not.
Let me throw in some Oral Roberts slop; the pig in me is hungry as a wolf. Unlike Benny and his eagle-like Holy Ghost, old hardtack Oral was a lazy controller of the power (and I emphasize the POW! in that power) of the Holy Ghost. Oral was definitely more dove-like than eagle-like in his healing. Oral professed he had the Holy Ghost in one of his hands, I'm sure it was his writing hand, God having made the writing hand knowing full well it would be the hand most of us automatically use to do things, like healing. Oral said he just felt it come into his hand one night when he was praying and God told him at the next show to just lay that hand on someone and, by God, they'd be HEEEEaled on the spot. Oral said the hand got hot as Hell that night and stayed hot ever since. So Oral didn't "slam" people down with his Holy Ghost, he simply put his hand all over you--"laying on of hands." But that doesn't mean Oral was gentle, hell no, I've seen him cuff a deaf kid like WHAP on his ears and then turn with his microphone off to one side away from the kid and whisper, "Hey, kid, ya hear me?" "Yes sir, Brother Or'l." "Praise the Lard and pass those buckets boys." And Oral and creepy Benny pass those buckets like madmen collecting all those tax-free bucks. Wow. Millions start rolling in. How tempting must that be? While the counters are busy counting up the Lard's take, Benny, Oral, Jimmy Swaggart, Popov, Old Lady Hickey out in Denver (I dig her daughter, a preacher, too) can just reach in an take a fistful or two of cash and go out and have a big roaring T-bone. I know what these preachers do. I grew up with a friend who became a Holy Roller television "evangelist" out in California. What they do is charge all their heavy expenses to God and they give themselves tiny little salaries where they aren't payin' one damn dime to the taxpayers who give them a free ride, why I'll never understand. That money don't float up to heaven you fool Yahoos who bend you otherwise proud heads to such a plastic and phony-ass redemer whose Wizard of Oz is back behind the Holy of Holies doin' one of the faithful's sons or daughters, or wife or husband. Yep, sex was the original sin, and as Philip Wylie said, we pay for sex with death, otherwise there would be no need to die if we didn't need sex to procreate.
Oral, Benny, Jimmy Strokeit (Swaggart), Old Lady Hickey out in Denver, Joyce "Hillbilly Queen" Meyer, Cowboy Ken Copeland and his Arkansas hillbilly wife/preacher, come out of the Four Square Gospel Church whose mother church is in Los Angeles and was founded by the wacky, though sexually alluring, Aimee Simple McPherson, one of my women heros, though, like Mary Baker Eddy, Joe Smith, Charles Jessup, and Saint John, she was truly off her rocker. Besides, I can't imagine Los Angeles as a holy city, though I guess it is; it was founded by Catholic priests, those holy of holiest of holy Fathers, the Padres--yeah, they so miss and lust for the sons they are not allowed to have they like to play with the altar boys and choir boys--you know Father-Son love--ooooooogah!--oh, yeah, some of these pious fakirs desire a daughter every now and then, too, especially Holy Roller priests, but they mostly want sons. Big Daddy himself preferred men to females, though even he knew he needed a vagina to pull off making Jesus. Ain't that weird; Christians believe the "Mother Mary Immaculate Conception" story without asking why did God need Mary to have a son? Couldn't he have simply just whipped it off and as it ejaculated, cried out, "Let this be my only sonnnnn...oooh, Jesus, that was good!" Seems to me that makes more Big Daddy sense than needing Mary. Of course, I know that old son of a bitch liked what Mary had and Joe didn't, that vagina.
You know God made woman (Eve), according to the Christians, as an after thought. Adam, the Christians's first MAN, was watching the animals one time and it was that time of year, you know, when the frost was on the pumpkin vine, and the animals all started fornicating and carrying on something ferocious but at the same time damn exciting looking. I mean Adam got a "stirring up in his loins" from watching these beasts of the forest and field party hardy doing this doubled back beast thing. So Adam said to God, "Hey, Big Daddy, those male beasts they have those other beasts who look like them but aren't hung like them and wow what they do when that one with only a hole raises that thang up, Katie bar the door, those male beasts look like they are already in Heaven, Lard, if you'll forgive my sacrilege? Why can't I have one of those beasts with that hole?" God answered logically, "Because, you stupid prick, those beasts, I call them 'Woe-men,' which is all they are, dig? You see, my first man, all creatures are males, except some males--well, Hell, OK, I admit it, I screwed up in the laboratory. The process I used, you know, to grow that damn penis you got between your legs goofed somewhere in the chromosomal formula I used--borrowed it from Lucifer, so I should never'a trusted it, but that's all in the past now. Back to my story, those beasts with the holes have those holes because their penises got to the bud stage and just flat stopped growing. Damndest thing I ever saw--a little beginning of a penis down there but the rest just a hole that leads up into a second stomach, by God. Anyway, it's about 50-50 in the beast world now, you know, penises and holes. But I decided with you, Adam, to give you a Woe-man would lead to what I call doctrinally 'original sin'--F-ing, in 'out there' terms, because it leads to dirty conception. Ohhh, my God, you should see the filthy little shitty things that come popping out of those beast holes after nine months--Jesus, they're foul looking. So I decided I wanted to make a perfect hombre, in my image, just like me, and I have never had a Woe-man." "The beasts seem to want original sin most after they eat those tomato-looking apples that grow on that big tree overthere." "Yes, that's the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. You eat one of those and out the damn gate you go, you stupid ass, no more Eden, baby, nothing but wilderness. That's the price you pay to become a heterosexual!! Stay a man without a Woe-man and I guarantee you you can live here in my lovely little park forever, and I do mean ever." "And what about one of those beasts with the holes, some of those beasts you told me were called sheep that have the holes that look pretty damn tempting, Lard, so what if I boff one of them?" "Sodomy, sorry." "Sodomy?" "Legal name for beastiality. Forbidden under my park rules." A few days later, Adam was back. "God, sorry, pal, I love this place, but damn I'm lonely. How 'bout you give me a Woe-man and I not F her?" "It would work as long as you don't eat one of those tomato things off that big tree I told you about. Woe-mans are lollygaggers; they like laying around showing it off; but as long as you don't eat those tomatoes, it might work. I like what you're doing with my hedges, the one that looks like a mouse with big Disneyland ears is kind'a cute." "Thanks, God, now get busy and get me a Woe-man and I'll take me chances with them tomatoes." God thereby revealed in this little anecdote that what he called Woe-man was really an imperfect male. Heavy, right?
Oh God, the asides. But it's because of this particular NOW and how I feel life evolving faster and faster and these asides are essential to this urge to growl with the intent to bite. To bite ignorance by the neck and strangle it 'till it's fresh dead and then feed it to the gators and the crocs since they'll eat anything and they are old as Hades ten times.
How about one more Oral remembrance: Oral sat on a big high stool up on a big stage and as the suckers came up to be healed, he would lean down and ask them what was wrong. "Pastor Or'l, I has an awful lump on my mountain oysters, if you ketch my drift. It's f-ing up my luv life. Heh-heh, I think my old lady's gonna leave me with them 26 snot-nose kids I pumped into her--but now, Brother Or'l, I can't pump for shit." "Praise the Lard, my brother. Do you believe?" "Yas suh I believe." "Then...[WHAM--Oral knees the man in the groin]...by God, you're healed. How'er your balls now, brother?" "I don't know, Brother Or'l, I can't feel 'em at all anymore. And why's my voice gettin' higher?" "There ya go, God's worked another miracle! Next sucker."
Sorry about that, I got off the track, something I'm very capable of doing. A comment I got the other day slammed me for being confusing with my flashbacks--yep, I admit, I meander (one of my favorite streets in my hometown was Meander Lane, though it was many years later when I learned what "meander" meant). The fields are so ripe with pickings these days. I mean, look what's going on all around us--going-up-outrageously rents being one of the pickings; our lyin' crooked "president" and his silly ass solutions to very serious dilemmas is another of the pickings. But this morning's Benny Hinn melodrama was challenging. OK, let's see if this fool is right. Let's see if Russia attacks Israel. First of all, though, I'd still like to know why Russia would even think of attacking Israel? Ain't nothing there but dirty old crumbling churches or mosques from whoever conquered them last. We need a real Healer is what we need; we need a tough son of a bitch, ghost or what, who can take his or her hand and slam down this bunch of spoiled brat rich boys who are taking us to hell whether we wanna go or not.
for The Daily Growler
Just a Parting Note:
Mohammed said the fruit Adam and Eve ate was the Bayan or Indian fig. That sounds reasonable to the Growler conjoined heads.