another night of sleepless sleep, the teacher, the plumber, the waiter, the accountant, the housewife, the unemployed seeking work eke out a living. The more imaginative of us who pretend to be living under the semblance of a democracy write letters to the editor — a smidgen ever published — cast votes for Tweedledee or Tweedledum, and, for a lack of work, a few of the least educated of us join the country’s club of heroes, the military, to serve as cannon fodder for the needs and wants of the Empire.
the birds sing. Jesus loves us. life is good…
our greatest export to the world are the weapons of war, wrapped in our Constitution and an invoice, to be paid for by those populations whose poorest survive by eating the undigested oats from horse manure.
the birds sing. Jesus loves us. life is good…
our roads sink, our electrical grid rusts, our aged water pipes bring us fresh pollutants from our lakes and rivers, our jobs disappear, our children are educated at a level usually reserved for developing countries and our cities are riddled with crime. Hollywood’s cesspool fills our homes with overflowing sludge. Our borders are overrun by millions who are also looking for a way to feed their families.
the birds sing. Jesus loves us. life is good…
a friend of yesteryear, a lawyer, and a deacon in his church, lives atop a mountain in the lovely Arkansas Ozarks. His wife is also a lawyer and a former beauty queen. Their kids are grown and grandkids and great-grandkids are as plentiful as butterflies in the land of peaches and cream. And like the Von Trapp family, the hills are alive with the sound of music. They give to charity and tithe to the church and now and then he comes off the mountaintop to be reminded how others live.
the birds sing. Jesus loves us. life is good…
when the mood strikes he writes in response to my emails, where I complain a lot, like I have been known to do, about life in general amongst the unwashed masses. He reminds me that all we need is true faith to make things better. He may be right. I know many, more miserable than I, whose youthful faith has not left them. I would no longer know for such faith left me when I was a young man, for it served me not so well as advertised. Now that I am older by a great deal, I replaced such traditional wisdom with a less certain dogma, leaving me partial to Jesus and less disposed to a goodly number of his followers. I suppose it’s a test of sorts, from a God who also lives on a mountaintop. ‘Remember’, my friend reminds me, with words of encouragement
‘the birds sing. Jesus loves us. life is good…’
The author is a “Doubting Thomas Christian” who is partial to Jesus but less favorably inclined towards a goodly number of his followers…
Former president of GARON Inc, a computer consulting company, located in Virginia. In my earlier years I served as a VISTA Volunteer in Georgia, a community organizer and a Chief Probation Officer in Texas and last but not least a Epidemiologist in Houston.
