PEEVER LAW #74

A DOG IS A MUCH BETTER COMPANION THAN MANY HUMANS. HE WON'T BITE YOU FOR NO GOOD REASON.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"DON'T LET KRUSTY'S DEATH GET YOU DOWN, BOY. PEOPLE DIE ALL THE TIME, JUST LIKE THAT. WHY, YOU COULD WAKE UP DEAD TOMORROW! WELL, GOODNIGHT."

Homer Simpson

RIGHT-WING CRITTERS

I DON'T TRUST GOING INTO ANY CHURCH THAT DISPLAYS AN AMERICAN FLAG. I THINK WE NEED TO KEEP THE CHURCH AND THE FLAG AS FAR AWAY FROM ONE ANOTHER AS POSSIBLE. BLENDING THEM TOGETHER SEEMS TO CREATE THESE SCARY LITTLE RIGHT-WING CHRISTIAN PESTS. I'M CALLING ORKIN.

Climate Catches 'Huge Break' as Shell Calls It Quits in the Arctic

Climate Catches 'Huge Break' as Shell Calls It Quits in the Arctic

BENEDICTION

I’VE WALKED OUT THESE DOORS A LOT OF TIMES.

I’VE ALWAYS COME BACK, SEARCHING, LONGING, WONDERING.

STILL, IT ALLUDES ME.

AS I WALK OUT THE DOOR, WAS TODAY THE DAY?

DID IT FINALLY SINK IN THAT IT IS ME WHO HAS TO CHANGE, NOT THE WORLD.

SUNDAY MORNING PRAYER: Beth Hart and Joe Bonamassa- Sinner's Prayer

SUNDAY MORNING LESSON

It's been 15 years since I almost bit the bullet, passed on, crossed over, croaked, bought the farm, kicked the bucket. We joke about it, until it stares us in the face. Death, that is. Then it's not so funny. You come face to face with being here one minute, gone the next. I sometimes wonder how things would have been had I died. You eventually come to a painful realization that things would have gone on without you. The most you can muster up is, you hope you would be remembered. Your only shot at immortality...being remembered. The question becomes, remembered for what?

PEEVER LAW #66

THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH MEDICINE WHEELS IN THE WORLD

'Foolish and Mean-Spirited': US House Votes to Defund Planned Parenthood

'Foolish and Mean-Spirited': US House Votes to Defund Planned Parenthood



MORE OF THE SAME STUPIDITY BY LEADERS WHO HAVEN'T GOT A CLUE. IT IS VERY DISCOURAGING.

TEN OF THE WEIRDEST PEOPLE I HAVE EVER SEEN. OR HEARD. OR SMELLED. NO TOUCHING, IT COULD BE CATCHING

1. Donald Trump
2. Chris Christie
3. Jeb Bush
4. Scott Walker
5. Ted Cruz
6. Mike Huckabee
7. Bobby Jindal
8. Rand Paul
9. Rick Santorum
10. Carly Fiorina

I THINK THEY ALL HAVE THE SAME MOTHER. UNFORTUNATELY, NOT FROM THIS PLANET, MAKING THEM ALL "ALIENS," AND INELIGIBLE TO BECOME PRESIDENT.

Trump: 'We're Gonna Be Looking Into' How We Can Get Rid of All the Muslims

Trump: 'We're Gonna Be Looking Into' How We Can Get Rid of All the Muslims



HE PLAYS ON PEOPLE'S FEARS WHEN HE SHOULD BE PLAYING WITH HIMSELF.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

“Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent”
Victor Hugo

PEEVER LAW #51

KILLING SOMEONE BECAUSE YOU DON'T LIKE THEM, OR BECAUSE THEY COMMITTED A CRIME, OR BECAUSE THEY ARE A DIFFERENT COLOR, OR A DIFFERENT RELIGION, OR SING A DIFFERENT SONG, OR WAVE A DIFFERENT FLAG, OR PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO A DIFFERENT IDEOLOGY, IS MURDER, ANY WAY YOU LOOK AT IT.

THE TEN WEIRDEST THINGS I HAVE EVER SEEN

1. Rush Limbaugh
2. A klan rally
3. A squirrel riding on the back of an armadillo.
4. The Jim Rose Freak Show.
5. A group of priests protesting abortion, as though they would know anything about it.
6. I saw an alien once in the back yard who looked like George Bush, Jr.
7. I think I saw God on a piece of toast, but I can't be sure.
8. I thought I saw bigfoot walking down the path the other day, but it was just my friend, who is 6'8", 300lbs., dressed up for church.
9. Some things are scary weird, like our federal representative, who looks like Pee Wee Herman.
10. Not much happens that's very normal anymore. It's all pretty weird.

Jim Hightower | How to buy a president for only 30 bucks and change

Jim Hightower | How to buy a president for only 30 bucks and change

The Leap Manifesto: A Call for Caring for the Earth and One Another

The Leap Manifesto: A Call for Caring for the Earth and One Another

PEEVER LAW #63

REVENGE WILL NEVER MEND A BROKEN HEART.

SUNDAY MORNING SERMON

He walked into my office one day. I was still working as a family therapist. He was alone, which was

unusual. There was usually more than one. I remember my first impressions: He was old, obviously

worn down from all the living. His skin was fragile, transparent, like the slightest touch would draw

blood. His face was wrinkled, his brows wild and bushy. His muscles were gone, used up over all the

years. He was a bit slumped, giving him the appearance of having carried many burdens over his

lifetime. He walked with a slight limp, probably from falling on numerous misguided paths. Still, his

eyes were penetrating. He stared at me with a longing to find something, perhaps salvation, 

something I was not prepared to give him.

Everything had taken its toll on him, including the booze. Mainly whiskey. I don’t know what they

thought I could do. He talked and I listened. Stories of delight, hope, despair, betrayal, friendship,

love, hate, forgiveness and lack of forgiveness, all meshed into sixty-seven years of living. Back

from prison; homeless and living on Skid Row; married and divorced, at least three times; rejected

as a father by his son and daughter; lost jobs and bankruptcies until he was forced to beg; a bleeding

ulcer and pancreatitis and numerous broken bones from beatings. Back from promises broken and

nightmares turned real. Each time saved he was thankful, but not enough to quit drinking. Not for

very long. What could I do for him but listen, say thanks for sharing, help him from his chair, gently

squeeze his hand, touch him lightly on the shoulder, and hope, as I was showing him out, that I at

least made the slightest difference.

I woke up at 1a.m. I had been dreaming about meeting Christ. I shook my head to get the cobwebs

out. Suddenly it occurred to me:  I already had.

SUNDAY MORNING HYMN: Gary Clark Jr - The Healing (Official Audio)

SUNDAY MORNING PRAYER

We Are Takers

You are the giver of all good things.
All good things are sent from heaven above,
rain and sun,
day and night,
justice and righteousness,
bread to the eater and
seed to the sower,
peace to the old,
energy to the young,
joy to the babes.

We are takers, who take from you,
day by day, daily bread,
taking all we need as you supply,
taking in gratitude and wonder and joy.

And then taking more,
taking more than we need,
taking more than you give us,
taking from our sisters and brothers,
taking from the poor and the weak,
taking because we are frightened, and so greedy,
taking because we are anxious, and so fearful,
taking because we are driven, and so uncaring.

Give us peace beyond our fear, and so end our greed.
Give us well-being beyond our anxiety, and so end our fear.
Give us abundance beyond our drivenness,
and so end our uncaring.

Turn our taking into giving … since we are in your giving image:
Make us giving like you,
giving gladly and not taking,
giving in abundance, not taking,
giving in joy, not taking,
giving as he gave himself up for us all,
giving, never taking. Amen.

--Walter Brueggemann, from Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth: Prayers of Walter Brueggemann.

'Where to Invade Next': Michael Moore Fights US Empire with Progressive Solutions

'Where to Invade Next': Michael Moore Fights US Empire with Progressive Solutions

THE COMPANY STORE

My middle name is Henry. That was my grandfather’s name. He was a coal miner. It was a tough life, as he described it to me on a warm, muggy, August afternoon, in Southern Illinois. We sat in his backyard, in the shed. The shed was about a hundred feet from the house. On one end was the outdoor john, a vital part of the homestead, in the middle, a coal bin, for fueling the heating and cook stove, and on the opposite end from the outhouse, his hideaway, a small room used to seek shelter from a pretty demanding wife. A 20x50 feet garden was placed between the house and the shed, with a path going down the middle of it. Iris lined the path on both sides. Mainly purple.  He read books in his hideout, mostly  mysteries and cowboy novels; rolled cigarettes (Bugler Tobacco and rolling papers); plotted out next year’s garden; saved bits and pieces of everything (in old Bugler cans); and told me stories. The room was not what you would want to call neat, with a dirt floor, an old kitchen table, a couple of wood chairs, held together with rope, and home-made shelves lining the walls. There were plenty of spiders, mice, and cats lurking about. The room had an earthy sort of smell, particularly in the summer.  A floor fan was used for cooling.  Everything was held together by cobwebs. The shed held a lot of mysteries for a twelve year old boy.

He had all this time for me because he had been hurt in the mine. He broke his back in a mining accident, which he confided in me was probably not an accident. After that, he was not able to work at a regular job. For money, he would do various chores for people.

An underground coal mine was no picnic. My grandfather said he had the feeling that he was being buried alive whenever he would enter the mine. This one was the Southern #9 Coal Mine, located in New Baden, Illinois. It opened in 1899, and eventually got to a depth of three-hundred and twenty feet. The miners would go underground before the sun was up, and come out after sundown. This would go on for weeks at a time. Then, he said, all hell would break loose. Everyone would go on a two or three day bender. He never mentioned any details, but it seems clear now that he had done things during that time of being inebriated that he was not proud of. For a young boy, I didn’t pay any attention to any moral implications. I was fascinated by the excitement of the tales. My mother and grandmother never talked about this part of my grandfather’s past. I don’t think they wanted it to influence our relationship. Perhaps some of the memories hurt too much. Staying quiet about it was a German kind of thing. Anything stirring up emotions was not generally discussed.

They would drink at the company tavern, an extension of the company store.  He said they would drink whatever, and the bartender would “tab it up.” After a night of drinking, they had no idea what they had consumed, but they would get the tab at the end of the month. It all came out of their pay. Between the tavern, the actual company store, where groceries and other items were purchased, and the rent for living in a company home, he indicated there was not much left. Sometimes you owed them more than you had made, which further indebted you to the company.  Tennessee Ernie Ford sang about this in his song, Sixteen Tons: “You load sixteen tons, and what do you get. Another day older and deeper in debt. Saint Peter don’t you call me, ‘cause I can’t go. I owe my soul to the company store.”  Thinking of this today reminds me that not much has changed over the years for the worker. Millions of people still work for minimum wage, countless people working two jobs, in a desperate attempt to keep up with the economy, which has little regard for minimum wage and the poor. The company store was the corporation.  For a twelve year old boy, I would have had no notion of this. Today it haunts me. I have spent much of my time trying to help people caught in the minimum wage exploitation of their labor.

My grandfather was an early union organizer: The Progressive Mine Workers of America. They had broken away from John Lewis and the United Mine Workers, in an attempt to bring more democracy to the union. The competition between the two unions became a war. There were deaths, which he never elaborated on. It sounded plenty scary. The company didn’t want unions, much less two of them fighting against one another. He said the company would hire detectives, Pinkerton employees, who he referred to as goons, to stir up trouble and rough up some of the union leaders.  His back was broken when a cart broke loose while hauling coal out of the mine. He was sure it was one of the goons who let it loose, but the company claimed it was an accident.  My grandfather had to lay on a piece of plywood placed on a bed for six months. There were no high-tech solutions for a broken back at that time. You lie down and waited for it to heal. And no sooner did he get up from that plywood bed, he had a burst appendix, which nearly killed him. The “accident” definitely took its toll on him. As long as I knew him, he never weighed over one-hundred pounds.

My grandfather died in 1967. My father had died a year earlier, from a heart attack.  After the funeral, my grandfather and I were out in the shed when he looked at me and said, “I wish I had died instead of your father.” Crap. I was eighteen then, but not prepared for that. What kind of man would give up his life to allow his grandson to have his father back? Maybe the kind of man who had given up his life years ago to fight for descent wages and to free himself and his fellow workers from the stranglehold the company store had on them.

MEDIA DARLING OF RIGHT-WING REPUBLICANS

I'M TIRED OF ALL THE KIM DAVIS NONSENSE. SHE IS AN ELECTED OFFICIAL WHO DECLINED TO PERFORM HER DUTIES AS COUNTY CLERK. SHE SHOULD BE REMOVED FROM OFFICE AND LOSE HER PENSION. AS LONG AS SHE DOESN'T WANT TO DO THAT, AND DOES NOT RESIGN OR BE REMOVED, SHE SHOULD REMAIN IN JAIL IN DEFIANCE OF THE SUPREME COURT. IT IS FITTING THAT SHE IS A RIGHT-WING REPUBLICAN HERO. SO IS SARAH PALIN AND ANN COULTER. HER NAME SHOULD NOT BE USED IN THE SAME SENTENCE WITH ROSA PARKS. SHE SEEMS TO BE A TWO-BIT HUSTLER LOOKING FOR PUBLICITY FOR ONE OF HER FAVORITE CAUSES: CASTING EVIL ON OTHER HUMAN BEINGS. SHE SHOULD WORK ON HER OWN LIFE, AND NOT WORRY ABOUT THE LIVES OF OTHERS. IF SHE CAN'T DO HER JOB BECAUSE OF WHATEVER REASON, QUIT. AND QUIT PRETENDING TO BE A CHRISTIAN, YOU MISSED THE POINT.

BENEDICTION

WHEN YOU COME TO THE END OF THE DAY, ASK YOURSELF WHAT YOU DID FOR SOMEONE ELSE TODAY? IF YOU COME UP WITH NOTHING, START OVER TOMORROW AND TRY HARDER TO DO SOMETHING FOR SOMEONE IN NEED OF COMPANY, OR NEEDING SOME FOOD, OR A RIDE, OR JUST TO TALK. IT WILL MAKE ALL THE DIFFERENCE IN THE WORLD TO YOUR LIFE.
AMEN

SUNDAY MORNING HYMN: Amos Lee - Jesus (Live)

SUNDAY MORNING BAPTISM

The preacher dunked
her head 3 times in
the basin and called out
for the demons to
leave & then she spit
water in his face.

So he extemporaneously
added a fourth & by
the time she came up
for air the demons
were considerably
more restrained.

Brian Andreas

SUNDAY MORNING WARNING

Ten Ways to Tell if You're a Right-Wing, Republican, Christian

      1. You picture God as a white, male, about 68 years old.
      2. You take everything in the bible literally, except the part about not killing
      3. If anyone suggests there might be other relevant religions, you turn homicidal.
      4. You get Moses and Charlton Heston confused.
      5. You think Rush Limbaugh is a prophet.
      6. You figure the American flag might well have been the original Shroud.
      7. Anyone who does not think like you is the enemy.
      8. Liberalism has this hopeful, compassionate, caring quality that you despise.
      9. You're good at maintaining a position of ignorance and close-mindedness.
     10. Look in a mirror. If it doesn't cast a reflection, don't say I didn't warn you.

In 'Win for Public Schools,' Wash. Supreme Court Rules Charter Schools Unconstitutional

In 'Win for Public Schools,' Wash. Supreme Court Rules Charter Schools Unconstitutional



IT'S ABOUT TIME.

PEEVER LAW #96

PICKING A CONGRESS IS A LOT LIKE PICKING YOUR NOSE: YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GOING TO GET, BUT IT'S LIKELY TO BE BAD.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

“He knows nothing; and he thinks he knows everything. That points clearly to a political career.”
George Bernard Shaw, Major Barbara

PEEVER LAW #94

IF YOU RUN OUT OF WORTHWHILE THINGS TO SAY, BECOME A POLITICIAN.