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A more realistic vocation

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Governments all over the planet have the potential to achieve global unity, social equity and justice, and provide free chocolate for everyone. That they fail to do so is largely due to maladministration, abuse of executive power, and the various frailties of human nature.
The same might be said about organised religion. It must be comforting for all the round pegs who are prepared to fit through the inflexible round holes of scriptural faith, but the square pegs of the world need to find their own square holes in order to find peace and contentment.
As the following story illustrates;
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As a Methodist child during the 1950’s I was one of the scrawny little automatons singing in the front row of the Castlemaine Sunday School Choir. One of it’s favourite songs was “Jesus wants me for a sunbeam”… a delightful reminder that our ultimate purpose in life was to spread rays of joy and happiness wherever we went.

Despite my intentions being honourable, I’ve subsequently spent more than half a century leaving behind trails of disgruntlement made up almost entirely of previously cheerful people who’ve had the misfortune to become caught up in my backwash of misery, insouciance and sarcasm.

Not a single illuminating sunbeam has ever snuck it’s way out of any of my organs or orifices.

This failure, and my general attitude of resolute contrariness, was reported by some traitorous bastard to the Director of Omnipotent Affairs who, it turns out, is a very decent fellow. After a mock stoning using black jellybeans** He gave me a gentle admonishment before whacking a “refurbished” stamp on my forehead. (which should scrub off in a week or two using steel wool and kerosene) Then with a wink He gave me a much more suitable job. A position which also comes with it’s own anthem.
This time I’ll sing it with rhapsodic conviction knowing that I’m the right man for the job. And now I can stop the futile task of trying to manufacture sunbeams.

Jesus wants me for a Stoker,
To fuel the fires of Hell.
Gather up all the cadavers
And cook ’em till they’re done well.
I’ll wear my asbestos jumpsuit.
And work religiously.
Y’all grab the sinners and villains
Then sling ’em on down to me.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Quotation for the week;Β  You can’t make a Rolls Royce out of the Datsun 120Y parts you find in the wreckers yard. (GOF, 2014)
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** The ‘stoning’ didn’t really happen. I totally made that bit up.
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About GOF

"Life is like a sewer. What you get out of it, depends upon what you put into it." (Tom Lehrer)

37 responses »

  1. I dunno, GOF. Speaking as a person of deep (I hope) faith, I get a great deal of sunshine and uplift out of my encounters with you.

    Or maybe that’s just gas…

    Reply
  2. I agree with AuntieBellum, although, speaking as an ex-church-goer and disgruntled with organized religion, happily letting the Universe do “It’s Thang”, I , too, have found many stray sunbeams here from you.
    Or were those the Smotings? If so, carry on, you’re doing just fine!

    I converted from Sunbeam to Smoter long ago! Or maybe we are Sparklers!

    Reply
    • Thank you Lauri….my reputation of being sunbeamless is now slightly tarnished.
      There is not enough smiting in the world today. Too few people being smitten. Smiting should be introduced as an Olympic sport.

      Reply
  3. Wait……which ray of light is coming out of what round hole? I’m confused. Never mind. I think we square pegs make perfectly nice rays of sunshine. I am always nice after my coffee is served to me by mistreated and underpaid baristas. But I agree with the above enlightened ladies, your sunlight (and Inga’s for that matter) reaches me especially when I need extra loyalty and humor.

    Ps Get these published in a book, man.

    Reply
    • Thank you Emmy, you are very kind. Your vocation and blog shines a light of hope for the future of our planet.

      “Get these published in a book, man.”
      Whaaat! so they can be used as evidence against my sanity at some point in the future? πŸ™‚
      Thanks….appreciate the thought.

      Reply
    • D’aww ditto, chick!

      PS. Don’t encourage him.

      Reply
  4. LOL, what is it with black jellybeans? They really are the fruits of Satan πŸ˜› Or Satan’s sheep droppings or something. I’d hate to break it to you, you made a few sunbeams when you weren’t looking. Your post certainly brightened my day. And what’s wrong with the parts of a Datsun 120Y? They seem to be keep going forever, probably why there’s not enough to go around to put into a Rolls Royce body.

    Reply
    • Thank you Judy. Black jellybeans are symbols of evil. If I were Prime Minister they would be banned along with tattoos and piercings.
      “what’s wrong with the parts of a Datsun 120Y?”
      Nothing much at all…..so long as all you need is paperweights and not something to drive. πŸ™‚
      Apologies…I’m merely perpetuating the rumour that Datsun 120Y’s were the tinniest piece of automotive rubbish to ever fall off the end of an assembly line. I should be ashamed of myself for not consulting with you prior to writing this piece. πŸ™‚

      Reply
    • Them ain’t black jelly beans, them’s rabbit droppings.

      Reply
  5. I have to make the sunbeam thing unanimous.
    Seems you just fail at disgruntlement.
    The peeps have spoken.

    Reply
  6. So, does you new appointment mean free chocolate is just around the corner?

    Reply
  7. Here’s some modern music for you (1989). I’ve loved it as a modern gospel song. Bear in mind, you may only want to do this from a cafe (with headphones) since it’s a 6 minute live performance. I think you’d enjoy the song as it’s decent music, although an obnoxious live show (drunks woohooing). I don’t believe this crap but I enjoy the fable (and he *does* say, ‘I had a dream.’)

    (copy-pasted from the net, not my spelling)

    Well, faith flies off the mountain everyday
    No parachute, and no crash to see
    Yes, my faith flies off a mountain everyday
    And there’s no parachute, no goddamn crash to see
    Fly the little monkey up a telegraph pole
    Sending out a signal to somebody, somebody
    Somebody, please somebody

    I want to hear a song that makes me believe in something
    I want to hear a song that makes me believe something
    I want to hear a song that makes me believe
    There’s something to believe in
    I want to hear a song that makes me believe

    Had a dream…

    I was riding on a train that wasn’t bound for glory
    Riding on a train, the train was bound for hell
    Riding on a train that wasn’t bound for glory, that’s for sure
    Riding on a train that’s bound for hell

    The engine with human blood was damp
    The headlight was her brimstone lamp
    And then for fuel I shoveled in bones
    and the furnace roared with a thousand groans

    The tank was filled with lager beer
    The devil himself was engineer
    The passengers were a mixed up crew
    The churchman in his battered suit

    The rich in broadcloth, poor in rags
    Handsome girls, wrinkled hags
    Black men, yellow, red and white
    Chained together, fearful sight

    The train was storming at full pace
    The sulfer fumes burned hands and face
    Wilder and wilder the country grew
    Faster and faster the engine flew

    Loud and terrible thunder crashed
    Whiter brighter lighing flash
    Hotter still the air became
    So clothes will burn from each shrinking frame

    There came a fearfull ear-splitting yell…
    Yell Satan: “dance, the next stop’s hell”
    Twas then the passengers shrieked with pain
    And begged the devil to stop the train
    Stop this train

    He shrieked and roared, and grinned with glee
    And mocked and laughed at their misery
    “My friends you’ve bought your seats on this road,
    I’ve got to get through with a complete load”

    You’ve bullied the weak, you’ve cheated the poor
    The starving tramp, you turned from the door
    You’ve laid up gold till your purses bust
    You’ve give a beastly lust

    You’ve mocked at god in your hellful pride
    You’ve killed and you’ve cheated, and plundered and lied
    You’ve double-crossed men and you’ve swore and you’ve stole
    Not a one in body and soul
    Body and soul

    So you’ve paid full fare and I’ll carry you through
    If there’s one
    And here’s a time when I ain’t no liar
    A land that will save you, a land of fire
    And your flesh will scorch in the flames that roar
    You’ll sizzle and burn from rind to core

    And I awake with a thrilling cry
    My were clothes were wet, my hair stood high
    And I prayed as I’ve never until that hour
    To be saved from hell and the devil’s power

    At present my vows were not in vain
    That I payed no fare on that hellbound train

    Reply
  8. Yikes!! I think black jelly beans would be my favourite colour, just like black jelly babies were years ago. πŸ™‚ That’s quite a parody on the old Sunday School song. πŸ™‚

    Reply
    • Black confectionery is attractive to kids……I seem to remember that black licorice straps were my staple food in Grades 6 and 7.

      Reply
  9. Silly GOF – it wasn’t your attitude that got you demoted, it was the fact that you spawned offspring so abundantly capable of filling the original position. 8)

    Reply

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