The court jester up in arms.

“I’ll bring you precious contraband
And ancient tales from distant lands
Of conquerors and concubines and
Conjurers from darker times
Betrayal and conspiracy
Sacrilege and heresy

I got every thing you wont or need
Your darkest fear, your fondest dream
I ask you questions, tell you lies
Criticize and sympathize
Be careful what you wish for friend
Because I’ve been to hell and now I’m back again”

– Steve Earle –

Well ol’ hoss. This’ll be one of them stream of consciousness entries. I got no plan but a general idea for what I want to say.

First off. Goddamn the whole idea of faith, religion and dogma. I have come to see if I am to find my way to God it won’t be in any church. And it won’t be talking to some of the most intolerant people I have ever met. Let me qualify that by saying I have met some incredibly good and decent folk. But see here folks. I have never been wired to blind faith. And it seems to me religion and church is not open to questions. They say they do, they entertain the give and take. But in the end either you buy the boat they’re selling or you drown. Accept it or you are lacking (hey do me a favor and don’t email me or message me saying it’s just me. It ain’t. That’s a cop out).

My old man was one smart motherfucker, tough and hard. He broke me down hard but he built me up too. And he taught me, you never ever just accept what you are told at face value. And if a glad handing and big smiling man tries to sell you anything, then question it.

I questioned and have been told I am wrong for just not accepting. I have been told the holy version of “Because I said so”.

So I’m stepping away. It’s well enough. I’m better on my own two feet.

See when I sat in a hotel room with a crazy son of a bitch who had been doing intravenous cocaine for 12 days straight and he chambered a shell in the sawed off shotgun across his lap. It wasn’t God that played it right and got me out of there.It was me and the shit I learned on the street. It was my father’s good words and a swift right hand.

And when I can’t fucking go on, the weight of the bullshit and the politics of loneliness and loss are pushing me to try to figure out a reason to live. It ain’t Jesus or an angel (man I hate It’s a Wonderful Life) that is talking me from jumping. And man I have literally stood on a bridge rail. It was my own decision to step back and fucking hurt more and to go another long night.

When I have struggled and fought for every breath and step and I had some bad juju comn’ down on me. There was no God there. I’d like to shove a copy of Footprints up a few asses…Violently. I wasn’t carried man, I didn’t make it thanks to a miracle. I crawled through the fire on burned bloody knees.

But I will get told this again and again or I will get told again and again of some divine wisdom that I can’t comprehend.

Well it ain’t good enough for me.

No sir.
I fuck, fight then turn out the light on my own call. I live like I please or die trying.It’s me paying the price or reaping the reward. So I think I should have a say in how the play goes down.

I want to love like a madman, push back when I hit the wall and I want to fight to keep from falling. To hell with this waiting on some big ol’ Boss in the sky.

If I am wrong, oh well. It’s my gig. You don’t need to worry on nothing I do.

But if you want to come along. Then have at.

It’s a crazy ride.

“I told the priest, don’t count on any second coming.
God got his ass kicked the first time he came down here slumming.
He had the balls to come, the gall to die and then forgive us.
No, I don’t wonder why, I wonder what he thought it would get us.

Hey, hey, good bye.”

– Andy Prieboy –

Be well

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5 responses

  1. Amen brother!

    February 22, 2010 at 10:37 pm

  2. Elena

    They say religion feeds on the fear of the masses.
    You fear, you obviously fear, more so than most of us, or are you just more aware?
    Either way, it makes you ap rime case to fall into the traps of hope; hope for love, comprimise, forgiveness.
    This isn’t so much as an anti-religion rant, but a careful consideration of your relation to it.
    Why have you allowed yourself, forced yourself rather, to overlook the potential self reassurance that many people find in God?

    February 23, 2010 at 9:50 am

  3. Elena

    Nobody heard him, the dead man
    But still, he lay moaning.
    I was much farther out than you thought.

    Poor chap, he always loved larking
    and now he’s dead.
    It must have been too cold for him, his heart gave way.
    They said.

    Oh no no no, it was too cold always
    (Still the dead one lay moaning)
    I was much too far out all my life
    And not waving, but drowning.

    -Stevie Smith

    March 11, 2010 at 4:17 pm

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