Read This!!!

1 (A)God of my praise,

(B)Do not be silent!

2For they have opened the wicked and (C)deceitful mouth against me;

They have spoken against me with a (D)lying tongue.

3They have also surrounded me with words of hatred,

And fought against me (E)without cause.

4In return (F)for my love they act as my accusers;

But (G)I am in prayer.

5Thus they have (H)repaid me evil for good

And (I)hatred for my love.

6Appoint a wicked man over him,

And let an (J)accuser stand at his right hand.

7When he is judged, let him (K)come forth guilty,

And let his (L)prayer become sin.

8Let (M)his days be few;

Let (N)another take his office.

9Let his (O)children be fatherless

And his (P)wife a widow.

10Let his (Q)children wander about and beg;

And let them (R)seek sustenance far from their ruined homes. (NAS)

For the director of music. Of David. A psalm. (NIV)

1 O God, whom I praise, do not remain silent, 2 for wicked and deceitful men have opened their mouths against me; they have spoken against me with lying tongues. 3 With words of hatred they surround me; they attack me without cause. 4 In return for my friendship they accuse me, but I am a man of prayer. 5 They repay me evil for good, and hatred for my friendship. 6 Appoint an evil man to oppose him; let an accuser stand at his right hand. 7 When he is tried, let him be found guilty, and may his prayers condemn him. 8 May his days be few; may another take his place of leadership. 9 May his children be fatherless and his wife a widow. 10 May his children be wandering beggars; may they be driven from their ruined homes.

I thought we were done with your blatent ignorance, you self rightous, slanderous, pitiful excuses for humans and American citizens. How dare you use the bible, the word of God, to justify your own personal beliefs of ignorance and malace. To take the word of God out of context so that you can do nothing but breed hatred is morally wrong and I hope God sends you to the 7th circle for doing so. Look at the passage you (see the first and second lines)...ignorance does not make you appealing. Is that really what you want for the Obama family? see verse 10 (2 behind verse 8 sense you oh so easily looked over it the first time). Is that what you want for the Obama children? How about verse 4? In return of your friendship? again...your friendship? I think you are lying to yourselves if you think that you have offered friendship to the Obama famiy. Verse 5 mentions that friendship again. Not seeing it. OK...now...verses 2 and 3. Let me type them out for you..."2 for wicked and deceitful men have opened their mouths against me; they have spoken against me with lying tongues. 3 With words of hatred they surround me; they attack me without cause." So... I see it now...those cute little black girls with pig tails are deceitful men? They have opened their mouths against you? They have spoken against you with lying toungues? They have surrounded you with words of hatred? They attack you without cause? Now....add Michelle and President Obama to that instead of the two little girls. President Obama has opened his mouth against you? Spoken against you with lying toungues? Surrounded you with words of hatred? Attacked you without cause? I must say that the only thing I see that is anywhere near relavent to your (see line 1 and 2) would be the habitual use of the word "ME". OHHHHHH.....ME, I, ME, I, ME, ME, ME, ME, ME. Grow up! To take the word of God out of context to call upon the assassination of an American President or anyone for that matter is in my opinion, wrong. If you do it....you better make sure that that is what God is saying. Giving God credit for something that he didn't do or he doesn't want, is potentially more wrong than not giving him credit for something that he did do. EXAMPLEs: Hitler killing the Jews, Muslims killing Americans, 1930's - now, KU KLUX KLAN, THE CRUSADES!!!!!! Again....THE CRUSADES!!!!!!. What connects all of these??? Lets see....ummm....using God to back up your hatred.

Bye

To Whom Much is Owed

Something has been bothering me. It bothers me because if its true, then humanity is in trouble. A trouble that could potentially be unlike any other form of trouble we have ever seen. This idea will probably anger a few, annoy a few, and maybe enlighten a few. Although I don't think I am qualified to "enlighten", maybe the idea in which I speak can and will. My goal is not to enlighten, but to figure it out as well. But for me to figure this conundrum out, then I must figure out God and everything that is ambiguous throughout the religion of Christianity must therefor be explainable, understandable, and above all thorough in its explanation.

In April, a terrible storm hit the South. This storm destroyed the lives of many and will forever be remembered throughout the Gothic South. Everyone in the states of Alabama, Mississippi, and Georgia has a story of either loss, terror, love, or gratitude at its finest. Some might even tell stories including all four.

In order for you to understand my fear or the conundrum in which I speak, I must tell my story:

3 days prior to this terrible day in Alabama, my mother called. She warned of bad weather coming our direction and said that it was like nothing the weathermen had ever seen. She told of deaths in Mississippi and future deaths in Alabama and Georgia. I ignored her. She is my Mother, she worries about me. On the 27th of April 2011, I awoke in my dorm room bed in Montevallo, Alabama to sunny skies and Tornado sirens. It wasn't raining, the wind wasn't blowing, and my afternoon job was on my mind. About 20 minutes later, still laying in bed, I received a call from my girlfriend who lives in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. Lauren lives on 15th Street. She started the conversation off with the statement, "Have you talked to your Mother today?" I was put off by the question, but nevertheless, said, "no, why?" Her voice wasn't normal in tone or cheerfulness so something was wrong. Lauren told me through the phone that day, that Guntersville, Alabama was beat up pretty bad that morning. My hometown, my summer job, and my family dwell in Guntersville, Alabama. After finishing the conversation, I tried throughout the course of the day to get in contact with my family. I didn't until 3 or 4 in the afternoon. They were all ok. While trying to get into contact with my family, I stayed in contact with Lauren. The weather was steadily getting worse and word of bad weather heading toward Tuscaloosa was getting out. While Lauren and I were talking, she said, "Baby, I'me scared." I took that as I needed to drive to Tuscaloosa and be with her for the remainder of the evening since she was alone. It only takes an hour and fifteen minutes to get to her apartment. I drive it frequently. I proceeded to put on my shoes and walk down the stairs towards the front entrance of Napier dorm. On the way out, I ran into two of my friends who asked me where I was going. I told them Tuscaloosa and they both immediately said, "No, your not. The weather is getting bad and you're not going." I listened and walked back up to my room. After telling Lauren that I wasn't coming, we continued to text for an hour until she sent a message that read, "Baby, I'me scared. It's getting bad." I replied, "Damnit, get in the closet or F****N bathroom. Quit being a punk" (That is my term of playful endearment for her). I didn't hear from her afterwards. I tried and tried to call. Stories of death on 15th street and destroyed apartment buildings flooded my Facebook and phone. "There is nothing left," a friend told me. "Wendy's is gone and so is Mike and Ed's." Her neighbor was the red headed Wendy herself and Mike and Ed's was across the street. After about 4 hours, she calls me. She was alive. Her car wasn't so lucky and neither was the twisted boat thrown in the parking lot from the lake across the street (a quarter of a mile away). Tuscaloosa was destroyed and hundreds lost their lives.

I have told this story over and over again and it's not different or like any other story I have heard in return. A kind lady looked at me and said, "God saved ya'll that day. Be thankful." She smiled and walked away. It was at this moment that this idea came to me: If God saved us that day and therefore we need to give Him credit for letting us live, then we also need to give Him credit for the death and destruction everywhere else. I do not necessarily believe this but I question. One question always leads to another and this wasn't any different. The next question came to me while watching the mall parking lot video on youtube: Looking at the sublime and utter terrifying beauty of the tornado, is the tornado indeed God himself or does God just allow Mother Nature to run her bitchy course? The problem with this, the problem that could lead to the trouble in which I previously spoke is this: God certainly has control over everything, but as it is sinful to not give God credit for something he has done then it is therefor just as sinful to give God credit for something he didn't do. I do believe that we do this quite often, misplace credit that is. As I am not sure whether or not God saved us that day or whether or not he killed the hundreds of other college students, mothers, brothers, sisters, and fathers, I am unsure if an American problem like the death of a dictator is of God. The American way is not loved by God anymore than the German way, the Iraq way, the Chinese way, or any other "way". We as the American population and the American Christian need to get that out of our heads and realize that the terms American and Christian are not synonymous. It is of American man to say the Pledge of Allegiance in Church, not of God, by God, through God, or most definitely not to God. It is directed towards the person sitting next to you.

Whether it is by God, by man, or God via man, I am not sure on these questions. I doubt you do as well, because we certainly can't answer why the good died and the horrible men that stole, raped, and murdered on the post-tornado streets of Tuscaloosa lived.

The American Dream

You've got your Hispanic mother driving 85 miles per hour in her Ford Mustang, headed nowhere else but Disney World. But guess what, the son of a bitch Ford Mustang was a 2001 and everyone knows that the 2001 Mustang was recalled due to a faulty piston or some crazy shit. Not to mention, the only reason you are going to Disney world in the first place is because your father passed away from a long bout with prostate cancer or your parents got divorced and your mother wants you to meet Jim, the 65 year old "buggy guy at Walmart". You see, the American Dream is bullshit. That is exactly what it is, The...American...Dream. It is a slot machine Jack pot and Oklahoma water in 1932. It is an old white man with a beard, pointing his finger at you saying, "hey dude, eat these Freedom Fries, get your nuts shot off at Normandy, and then...well...you will be a good American." I will tell you where the American Dream is, it lies somewhere on some interstate in Florida, beside your mother, the creepy buggy guy from walmart, and a busted up Ford Mustang. You might be saying to yourself, "Jay, you are an idiot. The American Dream does exist. The fact that there are Ford Mustangs, a Disney World, and your mother can screw the buggy guy at walmart is plenty proof." Well, no, the Church said that everyone shouldn't be able to get into Disney world in the mid 90's, Ford Mustangs get recalled, and buggy guys at walmart...well..yeah...buggy guys at Walmart are underpaid and they definitely need to get off your mama.

Jackie Gleason and an old Ford

They found my bones in an old Ford

a car

not a truck

in the trunk

I wasn't dead

I wasn't alive

I was dancing,

They found a hammer in that ol' trunk

a masons hammer

not a ball peen

rubber mallet

but a brick hammer

They put me on the show CSI

Alabama

not New York

Las Vegas

or Miami

Doug Heffernan played me

His southern accent was pretty shitty

not good

not bad

just shitty

They should have used Morgan Freeman,

or a fat Jackie Gleason.

What is good writing?

My question is elementary at best, but the reason I ask it is because subjectivity thrills me. People give that word hell, but I must admit that I have taken to its ring and underlying definition. It shows that we are human. It shows that we as humans all have our own opinions and certain ideas such as art, love, and good/bad writing cannot be given one pure definition.

Some of us like what I like to call Joycean writing. Joycean writing is very difficult to interpret a lot of the time and is filled with a stream of consciousness like prose style that makes me personally want to kill a tiny puppy. Some of us like simplicity accompanied with tears, while others like simplicity accompanied with sex. I like Vonnegut, Richard likes Lady Chatterley's Lover, and Jan likes Jeffry Eugenides. I like post-modernism, Dan likes modernism , and Donna likes romanticism.

I guess if I expect you to tell me what you like, I need to tell you what I like. I like Vonnegut :). I like Southern writing such as Fitzgerald, Rick Bragg, and Truman Capote. I also enjoy a few short story writers that also dwell below the Mason Dixon (Check out The Bear Bryant Funeral Train...its pretty good stuff). Tom Robbins is pretty cool also, along with Julian Barnes, Ferrol Sams, Raymond Chandler, Chuck P, and Charles Bukowski.

Now...my definition of good writing would definitely include tears, laughter, smiles, dead farm animals, and a glance into the past, present, and future.

What is your definition? Who do you like and why do you like them?

Website of the Week

http://southernlitreview.com/

This website gives a great overview of some of the South's greatest writers. Take a peek!

You will all be better off when you realize this. All of us are the same. We have our goals, our ideas, our opinions, and our destinations. Everyone wants to be recognized. Everyone wants for their art to be liked, their opinion to become everybody else's, and their destination to be the home of their future. Everyone has a blog with 3 followers and a painting sitting in a taped up box under their bed. We have our gardens in the summer and rotting vegetables in the winter. We all have our own recipe. We all want to be wanted, loved, and liked. We have a steel exterior that tells the world that what I'me saying isn't true, yet our pillows and the dark say different. No one wants to die alone with a smiling dog. They say an average person is remembered 50 years after their death. We all want at least 100. No one knows anyone in a Potter's Field. If you did, the person wouldn't be their. Everyone wants to be known and understood. We all want kids on our porch on Halloween, yet we want our kids to have the cutest costume. We all want our homes to be placed in Southern Living or for someone to tell us it could be. We all want the longest funeral processions, but we don't wanna die to get it. We also want everyone to pull over and take off their hats. When the funeral is long over, the cars are all in the garage, and another person is lying in the same hearse; we want the grass cut, the weeds pulled, and another person wanting to do it.