Babylon Bee: Progressive Church Allows Anyone To Interrupt Sermon With A Point Of Personal Privilege

“POINT OF PERSONAL PRIVILEGE: CAN WE PLEASE STOP MENTIONING THE GOSPEL? IT IS VERY TRIGGERING TO SOME OF US WITH AFFINITIES FOR SINFUL LIFESTYLES!” one man with bad hygiene suddenly shouted in the middle of the sermon this past Sunday. Wokestein assured him she had not mentioned the gospel per se, but just used the word gospel to refer to a book in the Bible.

The Fish

The Fish

Elizabeth Bishop – 1911-1979

I caught a tremendous fish
and held him beside the boat
half out of water, with my hook
fast in a corner of his mouth.
He didn’t fight.
He hadn’t fought at all.
He hung a grunting weight,
battered and venerable
and homely. Here and there
his brown skin hung in strips
like ancient wallpaper,
and its pattern of darker brown
was like wallpaper:
shapes like full-blown roses
stained and lost through age.
He was speckled with barnacles,
fine rosettes of lime,
and infested
with tiny white sea-lice,
and underneath two or three
rags of green weed hung down.
While his gills were breathing in
the terrible oxygen
—the frightening gills,
fresh and crisp with blood,
that can cut so badly—
I thought of the coarse white flesh
packed in like feathers,
the big bones and the little bones,
the dramatic reds and blacks
of his shiny entrails,
and the pink swim-bladder
like a big peony.
I looked into his eyes
which were far larger than mine
but shallower, and yellowed,
the irises backed and packed
with tarnished tinfoil
seen through the lenses
of old scratched isinglass.
They shifted a little, but not
to return my stare.
—It was more like the tipping
of an object toward the light.
I admired his sullen face,
the mechanism of his jaw,
and then I saw
that from his lower lip
—if you could call it a lip—
grim, wet, and weaponlike,
hung five old pieces of fish-line,
or four and a wire leader
with the swivel still attached,
with all their five big hooks
grown firmly in his mouth.
A green line, frayed at the end
where he broke it, two heavier lines,
and a fine black thread
still crimped from the strain and snap
when it broke and he got away.
Like medals with their ribbons
frayed and wavering,
a five-haired beard of wisdom
trailing from his aching jaw.
I stared and stared
and victory filled up
the little rented boat,
from the pool of bilge
where oil had spread a rainbow
around the rusted engine
to the bailer rusted orange,
the sun-cracked thwarts,
the oarlocks on their strings,
the gunnels—until everything
was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!
And I let the fish go.

Copyright © 2011 by Elizabeth Bishop. Reprinted from Poems with the permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

“The Fish” read by Elizabeth Bishop

William Barr’s Time for Choosing has Arrived

Is Bill Barr a man or a mouse?
The big question in all of this and so much more is, when will Attorney General William Barr do something real, something other than talking a good game, something to prove that he is a real AG and not just the second coming of Jeff Sessions? “

If Barr won’t prosecute criminals, find someone who will, Mr. Trump.

Name the Enemy

The Washington Times@WashTimes
Mosul — from 15,000 Christians to 40 –

“America, both overtly and subtly, has learned to tread carefully when it comes to discussing Islam-related matters. And it’s very difficult to win the war without naming the enemy.”

The Natural Man

1 Corinthians 2:14 KJV

But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.

God Questions Job

(Job 38:16, 39:13)

God Questions Job

The peacocks—did

You give them wings?

Have you gone in

The ocean’s springs?