Old Folks Talk

Come all ye fair and tender old folks; take warning how you spend your time. Life is like the leaves in springtime. First life appears; then later it's gone. Oh but, "is there balm in Gilead?" you may ask; What's on the other side of this river of life? Quoth the raven, "nevermore" and furthermore, wise guy, what makes you so special, that you think you're exempt from this fate. . . this. . .cycle of life and death, and this ancient question. . . like, what's on the other side? Well here's the deal. Nobody knows; nobody knows, for sure, how the story ends, y'all. But we do know what the ole book says: "four score and ten" that's about it, and then that's all you need to know. "Oh yeah?" said the ole fellow. "Well I'm going for eighty or ninety" . . . as a newspaper blew through the grass and landed on his old brown shoe. "Good luck with that," came the repost. "It's not about luck, y'all; it's about faith. You gotta believe what Jesus said. He went through the whole damned thing and then lived to tell about it." "You believe that?" "Like I said, you gotta believe it, You gotta have faith." "Ah, whatever; that's an old wives's tale." "You can say whatever you want; that doesn't change anything. Jesus said be ready; for you know not the hour in which I come for you. Believe in His power; that's about all you have to do." "Whateva. Good luck with that." "It's not about luck, bro; it's about faith. Just believe that Jesus survived death itself, and that he has granted that power to you." When the smoky uncertainty of this life wafts up into thin air, what choice do you have? 

The holidays are over. You still got the rest of your life to deal with. I'm serious, y'all, just believe in His power over death; that's the deal; its as simple as that. And for safety's sake, you better not be naughty; but be nice. Smoke

Railroad Song Still on Tracks.

Gordon sang the story back in the day. . . "So they looked to the future, and what did they see? They saw an iron road running from the sea to the sea." His anthem filled in the gaps of railroad travel, Canadian style, but the story was the same on the southern side of that continental network. American restlessness sparked a 19th-century impulse to "go west, young man." Yankee ingenuity and gilded wealth launched American wanderlust onto a westbound track. Vanderbilt, Rockefeller and all their hired help laid down the tracks from Boston to Baltimore, Schenectady, Chicago, New Orleans, San Francisco and the the gold in them-there California streams. The US Army Corps of Engineering working out the mechanics and logistics along the way, onward, westward to Promontory Point, Utah, where the golden spike was driven into history and the gilded age glided into antiquity. A network of classic American folklore, story and song laid the groundwork for a treasure trove of railroad literature and song, from Mark Twain to Woody Guthrie, Casey Jones . . . Bill Anderson wrote the classic railroad ballad that sparked my generation's wanderlust: "500 miles". My memory hangs on Peter, Paul and Mary. But there were so many recordings of that song. . .Chet Atkins, Glen Campbell, Kingston Trio, probably 500 or more. Somewhere back in the tracks, Woody Guthrie had hopped on the line; his son Arlo made Steve Goodman's song, "Ridin' on the City of New Orleans" a classic. Dylan hammered his railed legacy into the eternal realm with his Slow Train Coming album, connecting the earthly track to the eternal, the divine track that lead to a heavenly destination that had been established 2000 years ago by Jesus, long before any man even thought about a railroad or an American legacy.

Back there in the caboose of technology, history and music, an  underground railroad rides again, and can be heard blowing smoke, song and trumpet into the eternal realm. King of Soul

The Thorn Bush Parable Update

Once upon an historical time, in an era long, long ago, in a land far, far away. . . our biblical correspondent, Judges Nine (number nion, number nion. . .) reported that, for whatever reason we know not, the trees of the field had said to the thorn bush, "You come and reign over us." Our correspondent Biblio reports, from Mount Gerizim: Judges 9:15: "And the thorny bush said to the trees, 'If, in good faith you are anointing me king over you then come and take refuge in my shade, but if not, let fire come out of the thorny bush and devour the cedars of Lebanon" ______________ Meanwhile, back at the tranche of history. . . Moses' great great great grand-cousin in the 21st century - Journal Izma, reports on the the bull moose party, that archaic GOP, (said to be) the party-of-Lincoln. . . you know - that slow-moving elephantine party - what used to be the Republican party. . . anyway. . . Journalizma continued his reporting, and his crusade to bring to justice the proud buoys and the three-perverters and the oathbleepers. . . (you remember) those insurrectionists on Capitol hill who mounted the janus-sixsix rebellion, (he said/she said blahblah). . . "If you have acted in good faith and integrity with US the People, then go ahead and go whacko with your marlogo hero." " But if not, let Our Rule of Law/Our Constitution fall heavily , because, back in the day, the days of long ago and far away, something like the thorn bush had said to the trees, "stand back and stand by" and 'If you are swearing me in as your main guy, then come and get hooked up to my artful Deal, but if not…

. . . let fire blaze down against those reps who are counting out the votes of US the people, and let fire come out from the leaders of the donkeys and from the old-school elephants, to strike Trumpimelech with the hammer of Justice. But Jotham and Gotham and Tom, Dick and Harry and Jezebel ran away in fear of Trumpimelech, Abimelech's descendant., because, as Simon had said, the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls, or Capitol halls, or something like that.  Stay tuned for news at the 11th hour . . . Glass half-Full

Pale Shade

We skip a light randango, turn carwheels across the world. We been feeling kinda badly… but the crowds call out for more. The nation's drumming harder, and Constitution's blowing away, when I noticed another blink from our patriots along the way. And now its getting later, as the maga tells his tale, and the climate space at first . . . just blows a whiter spade of heil. They said there is no reason, and the truth's not plain to see, as we wandered through our online shards. . . and would not let them be. . . the run of sixteen-year-old vestal virgins who were leaving maralago coast.

And although our eyes are open, they might as well be closed. And now it is much later, as the offender reads his mail, that Uncle Sam's face. . . at first just ghostly, turns a darker shade of pale. Glass Chimera

Glory glory

Mine eyes have discerned the glory of the workings of the Lord. He had rambled through the promised land where Moses struck the chord. He distributed His glory throughout the ages by His Word. His Word is traveling on. I have read Him in the morning; I have discerned Him in the night. History's carved out for him a legacy of replacing wrong with right. And even though the martyrs died, believers hung on tight. His Word is traveling on. His Word enlightened Christians who have lived from age to age. We have defeated cruel adversity through pagan hate and rage We've discerned the glorious will of God as we've read from page to page. His Word is traveling on.

In the mystery of holiness Christ was nailed onto a tree With salvation in His sacrifice that has saved both you and me.

As he rose to conquer death itself ; his Life has made us free His Word is traveling on! King of Soul

Yuletide Faith

The man, young, restless and just out university, left his home state and his family behind. He settled in a popular city, where old folks take life easy. Little did know at that time; he was being guided by a providential instinct. . . into a destiny through which the Lord would bless those who blessed him, and he would eventually join all the people of the earth who have lived a life well-lived. He traveled through the sunshine, through the rain, past the panhandle of florid comfort. Although he didn't know it at the time, he was being directed to a destiny far above the sandy beaches because life is not a beach. And so he turned northward, finding opportunity in blue ridge, where new horizons were opening for him. And he prospered, and he found rest in the buncombe. But he was confounded when once, upon a midnight dreary, while he pondered, weak and weary, the dark wings of fate landed upon him and spoke, "Nevermore!" And he wondered, what the hell? Say what? Is there balm in Gilead? And so he took his journey westward, leaving Ur of the cawcawbird and traveling to the land of promise, although he didn't know it at the time. And a whole reel of adventures unfurled after he had received help from Melchizedek, the prince of Peace. He saw glory coming out, but he didn't know how. I think I'll change direction, here and now.  And the Lord assured him: "Do not be afraid. I am your shield and your reward." And the man believed the Lord; so he was given credit for being on the right side of the great divide. And he looked up into the night sky, and he saw a star pointing toward Bethlehem, a place he had heard about early on, when he was a kid, at Christmas. And the Christmas story became for him. . . not just a yuletide feast or a santa clause surprise, but the beginning of a new way of life, a path that would reveal purpose and redemption birthed in the strife of this life. Then one night he happened by the Junction and he met the girl who who became his other half, who would present unto him, as the prophet Micah had foretold, a new way of life, and although it was a new way, it was an ancient way that had been established long ago, when Abraham had looked up at the stars and the Lord had said that his progeny would be as the stars in the heavens. Smile, you're on camel camera, if you're a wise man, or woman.  And the stars were nice and they twinkled. . . but at the appointed time and at the appointed place, the place that Micah had foretold, the star directed the man, as he directs all wise men, if they are humble and willing to be led by the star, to a new birth into eternity where, as I once heard from a saved widow whose hubby had died. . . she said that he said to her in a dream: "It's like Christmas morning up here, all the time." And in the distance, I saw a shimmering face. . . I decided to stop for my life, the rest of my life. . .

And if you believe that, we've got some real estate in eternity that you might be interested in. Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah and may the Holy Spirit fly up into your understanding of what this life is really all about. Christ-believer

To Shoot or to Vote

To vote, or to shoot: that is the question. . . whether 'tis nobler, in a swarm of political troubles, to suffer the slings and nooses of outrageous insurrection, or take action against a wave of magamaniae, and by opposing, transcend them. To vote no more , and by that lapse to end, the democracy and the thousand Constitutional rights that Americans are heir to; 'tis an Amendment sadly to be tossed out. To mail-in votes, or to shoot, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub: for in that Constitutional clash what dreams may come. . . when we have shuffled off this mortal MAGA mess - there's the rub that makes calamity of so long a Republic's life.

There's a second amendment and a fifteenth amendmentFor who would bear the guns and votes of time? the Jan6 throng, or the mail-in working democrats? 2nd amendment guns, or 15th amendment votes : that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler to lock and load our gun rights, or to allow mail-in ballots so working folk can vote on Tuesdays when they have to go to work . . . or both, to keep everybody happy. . . that is the question. I mean, if Jan6 insurrectionists can be pardoned for their violent attack against our Congress, then surely working folk can be pardoned, by Congressional law, from their jobs, for an hour, or perchance to vote by mail. . . to go to the polls on election day! To shoot, or to vote: that is the question. Glass half-full