I was out cycling on July 4th 2006 in Topeka, KS, trying to find-out why they didn’t have a ‘Go Fourth’ at WU, and found a dead, baby doll with one arm on Mayberry Street, the other one was broken-off. I guess you could make TEN-thousand-one statements of what that symbolizes. I hung it up on a hook, which is how I wanna be martyred (hung, shot, guillotined, or pulled-apart by four-horses when a shotgun is fired. Guess you‘d call that ‘Quarter-Horsing-Around’ HawrHawr).
Nevertheless, my interpretation is this: America, in her infancy, has no bloody idea of how much we owe the King of Kings, God Almighty, for our well-being in this Land-of-the-Free; That also makes me realize, by her lying broken in the street, how flagrantly callous we are toward the slaughter of our babies, as the girls in short-shorts practically wanna. “Who the hell’s God? Do I even need Him?” they proclaim. There were monks, too, in the Middle Ages, even now, who have literal skulls on their desk to remind them they’re passing-away. Don’t know? Don’t even care? “SoBeIt,” saith the Trinity. “Let the Angel of Death descend.”
I'm very angry due to our happy, intoxicated society which replaces God with MSNBC.
IN HOC SIGNO + VINCES: Crux Sacre Sit Mihi Lux! Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam!!!
''A small spring of faith'' tracking the journey of Sparki, an atheist-turned evangelical-turned liturgical Christian-turned Catholic discovering the joys and mysteries of the Faith.
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I was out cycling on July 4th 2006 in Topeka, KS, trying to find-out why they didn’t have a ‘Go Fourth’ at WU, and found a dead, baby doll with one arm on Mayberry Street, the other one was broken-off. I guess you could make TEN-thousand-one statements of what that symbolizes. I hung it up on a hook, which is how I wanna be martyred (hung, shot, guillotined, or pulled-apart by four-horses when a shotgun is fired. Guess you‘d call that ‘Quarter-Horsing-Around’ HawrHawr).
Nevertheless, my interpretation is this: America, in her infancy, has no bloody idea of how much we owe the King of Kings, God Almighty, for our well-being in this Land-of-the-Free; That also makes me realize, by her lying broken in the street, how flagrantly callous we are toward the slaughter of our babies, as the girls in short-shorts practically wanna. “Who the hell’s God? Do I even need Him?” they proclaim. There were monks, too, in the Middle Ages, even now, who have literal skulls on their desk to remind them they’re passing-away. Don’t know? Don’t even care? “SoBeIt,” saith the Trinity. “Let the Angel of Death descend.”
I'm very angry due to our happy, intoxicated society which replaces God with MSNBC.
IN HOC SIGNO + VINCES: Crux Sacre Sit Mihi Lux! Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam!!!
By -blessed holy socks, the non-perishable-zealot, at 11:21 PM
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