Evangelicals, Help Me Out Here

This Eden story, I don’t get it—help
Me out here. It says beneficent god
Planted a really nifty garden, whelped
Adam there, and ribbed him a luscious bod

To help around the grounds—but with a catch.
The deal depended on their ignorance.
Not knowing right from wrong, they’d have no chance
To muck it up; but also have no sex,

Until that talking snake appeared and vexed
The guileless Eve; she then beguiled her man.
Alas! Our sorry history began—
Paradise lost and eons of distress.

So what’s the score? The serpent one—god,nil;
For us, the shriveled fruit—foul, bitter pill.
                              10/27/05

Posted in Religion

Boggles The Mind, It Does—The New Scholasticism

Convinced ambitious folks had nuclear dreams:
For our young nation’s century—a Rome
Reborn. “Ape strong! Who dares reject our schemes?
We’ll crush the nervous pipsqueaks, rush the doom

We visit on the Earth (for her own good).”
The thuggish roster’s long, but some stand out:
Rumsfeld, Cheney, Libby, and Rove (we could
Count witless Bush, except he has no clout

Among these heavyweights). But now they’re caught.
“Not me,” the weaseling begins. “Back stab-
bing is no crime!” “A lie or two we thought
Would sell this noble war—is that so bad?”

Mock truth. Split hairs. Resolved to duck the dread
Contempt, the mangled legions, and the dead.
                            10/25/05

Posted in Politics, War

For God’s Sake, What’s All the Fuss About?

How did it happen? How did a rosy
Nipple, an infant’s source of nourishment,
Become obscene, affront the dignity
Of decent folks demanding punishment?

That satanic snake feeds the “mortal fruit”
To Eve, who shares with Adam—then the fuss
Begins! And, abashed, Adam hides his glutes
From god, as if the sight of his pale tush

Contaminates divinity. “All right!”
God shouts, “If hidden genitalia
Is all you care about—out of my sight—
Leave the garden! Adopt regalia!

Thus Satan wins the day, makes god his foil—
While man, discretely clad, confronts his toil.
                            10/25/05

The snake you will, of course, remember from Genesis 3:1-5. As for “satanic,” well the book says only that “the serpent was more subtle than any other wild creature.” Actually, the unmistakable Satan (called by name) doesn’t enter upon the stage until much later—but for centuries, folks, finding the subtle serpent’s behavior inexplicable, have been assuming that Satan was there—lurking—why else would a simple (however subtle) snake cause such catastrophic mischief? The mortal fruit (words stolen from John Milton’s Paradise Lost), surely not an apple, not in sub-tropical Eden, is the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (perhaps a pomegranate). It is, finally, not knowledge, information, that doomed us, but knowing the difference between good and evil. Go figure!

Posted in Religion

The God of Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson, And A Handful of Concerned Imams Explains It All for You

Religious folks are certain; they believe
Snakes talk (and asses too); know, in a pinch,
I’d whistle up a nation from the East
To punish those convinced that life’s a cinch.

But with Amalekites in short supply,
I’m sometimes forced to improvise the means
To keep My folks in line. So, when they try
For independence, yearn for self-esteem,

I send earthquakes, tsunamis, raging storms—
(And, just to make My point, some avian flu)—
Bust up the roads, impede, multiply harm
‘Til Congregations understand My view.

I grin when parents, without irony,
For one child spared, cry out their thanks to Me.
                        10/23/05

Well, the famous talking serpent (who originally had legs, though it doesn’t say how many) appears in Genesis 3:1-5. Balaam’s less famous talking ass appears in Numbers 22:28-30, where she gets into a rather testy dispute with her owner. The Amalekites, you will remember turn up for the first time in Exodus 17:8—but they keep reappearing, and it’s always bad news for Israel. God used other tribes as well to punish his stiff-necked people—gave them into the hands of the Mesopotamians (modern Iraq, by the way), or the Midianites, or the Philistines, or, sometimes, just plain plunderers (it’s all in that old book, particularly in Judges).

Posted in Religion

Intelligent Design? Give Me a Break!

“Batter my heart, three-personed God” he said,
That god-drenched fellow, formerly the rake
Whose wit and charm teased women to his bed.
Which life was true—depraved—divine—which fake?

Suspicious late conversions mock the ears
Of moral vigilantes. Augustine
Himself confessed at Carthage fiery years
When hot unholy lust gripped like a fiend.

And W, that drunken debauchee,
Was born again? Come on! How can we tell?
Start wars and spoil for oil and by decree
Smut the air, cut forests, make Earth a Hell.

Intelligent design at work you say?
‘Twere better if he’d drink his life away.
                     10/21/05

John Donne (1572-1631) it was, who begged god to batter his heart in Holy Sonnet 14. But his lament occurred long after a misspent youth successfully chasing women (including the 17 year old (let’s give him credit for doing the right thing) he finally married). Further, the talented and tempestuous Donne had the misfortune to be born Catholic in a determinedly Protestant country. He did the only sensible thing—converted to Anglicanism and became a very great preacher indeed. And St. Augustine (the meter prefers Augustine rather than Augustine) (354-430), the celebrated Bishop of Hippo and author of one of the four seminal autobiographies in western literature, exhibited a youthful profligacy that provoked much concern among those who cared for him. In Book 3 of his Confessions he speaks of his student years: “To Carthage I came where a cauldron of unholy loves bubbled up all around me”—and he only seventeen at the time.

Posted in Greed, Politics, Religion

Clean Air? What’s It Good For?

(A Chamber of Commerce spokesman explains it all for you)

It’s not contamination—it’s a job—
And corporations are real heroes here!
One lousy plume of smoke—then foolish fear:
The air! The air! The wimps cry out, and rob

Us of the profits that we need to keep
This country great! And if some mercury
Should flavor fish, so what? Their pure fury
First interrupts our schemes; worse, costs a heap!

They just don’t get it—jobs: the bottom line—
How else can we compete with foes abroad?
The pay may not be great, but hey, a lot
Of folks would love the work and think it kind,
Applaud disease that, in return, affords
Thin dreams; we crave the cash—forget the rot!
                                        10/19/05

Posted in Greed, Politics